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#and eventually has issues with Mum
vimbry · 2 years
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I'm so siiick. in that I'm cool but also I've had the flu
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the absolute ordeal i just went through trying to book tickets to the wembley production of Newsies.. you could not even imagine
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tsimvkas · 10 days
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come back home — mason mount
A/N: really sad to hear about the new injury so maybe this can distract u guys a bit. im ngl, this one is pretty personal to me so please take care of it. tbh this is a special fic for mi amore elisa, and i hope it matches her expectations. this story wouldn’t exist without you bestie 🫶🏻
word count: 8.5k | masterlist
content: reader has mommy issues, dad!mason, angsty and fluffy end
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When your mum called, you didn’t think twice.
She asked you to spend a week with her, and you accepted straight away, incapable of believing that your brother left her alone without warning you.
To be fair, you know you’re not on speaking terms with him, but it's your mother. How could he let her alone?
When you told Mason, you could see the insecurity on his face. Since you gave birth to your baby boy, you had never ever left the house without him, and leaving Manchester to go back to your mum’s in London was a big thing, but eventually he sighed and nodded.
“Just make sure you call me everyday” he kissed your forehead before kissing Leo. Just a week, you told him. In a week you would be back to your husband.
You met Mason at the Champions League final im the 20/21 season, and you like to say it was love at first sigh, the way your relationship instantly clicked is still surprising. You dated for a year before he asked you to be his wife, and you thinks you would’ve said yes another million times.
You’ve been together through the good enough season of 21/22, and all the shit of 22/23. You got pregnant in the middle of his last season for Chelsea, and Luke was born already in Manchester, in October.
Since Mason’s injury in November he’s been able to participate more, spending lots of time with his son as he doesn’t need to go to away games, and you know that this week away will make both of them sad.
You tried to tell yourself that since Mason is back at the regular training and ready to be back on the pitch, they would spend less time together anyway. It didn’t make the decision any easier.
When you packed for a week and got into the car, your husband helped to put Luke in the baby seat before kissing you lovely.
“Call me every night. Don’t let her be alone with Luke, please? And come back soon” he whispered against your lips, stroking your chin. “I love you”
“I love you” you kissed him, before reluctantly driving away from your husband.
Sundays are usually already sad and gray, but Mason is sure his just hit another level of depression.
It was already night when you got to your mum’s house, not talking much to her before settling on Matt’s old room and texting Mason.
You instantly found out that it would be a difficult week: it was the first time you were away from Mason since you gave birth, and the first time Luke had to sleep away from daddy.
The thing is that he couldn’t. You couldn’t put your baby to sleep, not even if your life depended on it. Luke kept loudly crying, tossing and squirming in your arms.
You tried your best to calm him, thinking it could have something bothering him like his current clothes or the weather difference, but not even breastfeeding calmed him down.
Mason tried to help you every time he FaceTimed you, and it was when Luke seemed to feel better but never lasted long.
You were feeling exhausted the whole week, but that didn’t stop your mother from asking you everything she could, like you were still fifteen years old with the responsibility of helping her to clean a house isn’t yours anymore.
Plus, she seemed incredibly bothered about Luke and the fact he wasn’t feeling well, dropping comments about him. You tried your best to ignore, because you know your mother isn’t the easiest person to live with, and since you were leaving soon you didn’t want to fight.
Wednesday night you were missing Mason like crazy, wanting nothing more than to be wrapped with him under the covers, and your heart twisted when his face showed up on your screen.
“Hi baby” Mason murmured, already tucked in bed and making your heart ache with the need of being there and snuggling with him.
“Hi Mase. How are you?”
“Training was fine, and I’m getting closer to come back” he smiled, and you instantly matched his expression.
“I can’t wait to watch you again, love”
You think that is adorable how Mason’s cheeks still got red when you show him affection.
“And how’s your week going?”
“It could’ve been better if I was with you. I miss you” you sighed. “But the week is almost over and I’ll be home soon”
“Good” he yawned, getting more comfortable. . “Show me my little man”
Luke was still wide awake and paying attention to what you were saying, and you showed Mason to him.
“Hi buddy, you’re being a good boy, yeah? Be good to mumma, please. I miss you”
When Luke babbled to him, Mason giggled before wishing you a good night and telling you he loved you.
When Saturday came your mother talked to you, saying Matt had some problem and he wouldn’t be back for another week, begging you to stay a little while. The hardest part was telling Mason about it.
“She needs me to stay for one more week, Masey” you murmured, feeling guilty. When Mason didn’t answer you tried again. “I’m sorry, baby. I’ll be home next Sunday”
“It’s okay. I was just hoping you’d be here for Liverpool’s game tomorrow, I think I’ll be subbed on. But it’s okay, you can travel to Brentford's game with Luke” he assured you. “I wish I could go see you during the international break, but they want me to stay in rehab”
“I’m really sorry baby, I tried to contact my brother but he’s being petty” you sighed.
“I understand, princess. I just miss you” he told you gently. “How’s my buddy going?”
“He’s good, he’s just so irritated lately, I think it’s his tooth” you sighed again, feeling tired. “He misses you”
“Poor bubba” Mason pouted, making you smile. “Give him a kiss yeah?”
“Sure” you smiled. “We’ll be back at the end of the week. I love you”
When the week unfolded, you weren’t sure about your decision anymore.
You choose to stay with your mother for one more week over living your husband’s comeback, and in gratitude she spent this time talking bad things about you.
It started with innocent comments. How she would never buy the clothes you were wearing. How you were raising a clingy kid by never letting him sleep alone. How you should breastfeed him less or your boobs would get flaccid.
You tried to shrug it off, like you did when you were younger. You used to believe that your mother was always right and that she was always the mature one, but you’re not so sure anymore.
During the second week you kept calling Mason every night, sharing about your day and showing him to Luke, who would try to grab the phone and put dads on his month. When, without a question if you could or wanted, the second week turned into a third, you could feel Mason losing his patience.
“It’s okay, you can still go to Brentford’s game this Saturday” he repeated, but it sounded like he was trying to convince himself instead. “You can bring Luke, Brentford is friendly. How is he doing?”
“He had a fever but he’s fine now” you showed Luke sleeping next to you, his face a little red.
“Let me know if something changes” Mason asked you, and his concerned look just proved you chose the right dad for your son.
You nodded to his image on the small screen, his adorable face almost hidden by the sheets, the bed looking incredibly big.
“Can we sleep on call?” you asked, missing him so much it was physically hurting you. Mason’s face softened and he nodded.
Some people might think that you could just go back home. If you really miss him you would do it, right?
But you know Mason understands your relationship with your mother, how you feel you owe her everything. She raised you, gave you everything you needed.
She was rough sometimes, yes. And there were days you didn’t feel loved at all, but she was still your mum, even when she couldn’t tell you she was proud, even when she couldn’t hug you during storms.
Even when she couldn’t believe you would be someone successful one day.
So you kept there, living your days boringly, washing the dishes and the clothes, playing with Luke, cooking breakfast, lunch and dinner. For her, so she would be happy and proud.
And you were losing your mind.
When Brentford's game came, you weren’t able to go. You apologised to him the day before, spending hours on the phone, and even though you could see the sad look in his eyes Mason was still comprehensive.
“She needs me to accompany her to the exam” you told him, and Mason himself could see you weren’t funny about your current situation; you just weren’t brave enough to hurt your mother the way she hurts you and leave.
You were able to watch the game when you came back from your mother’s exam and it wasn’t a surprise to you when Mason changed the whole game by being subbed on.
Luke was already sleeping, so you tried your best not to scream when your husband scored, tearing up to see he dedicated the goal to you by pointing to his ring finger.
You were able to talk with him only for a few minutes before he desperately needed to sleep, whispering that you was proud of him and the way his voice cracked when he told you he loved you made your heart hurt.
Following the week, you weren’t able to talk much with him. Only quick calls at night before he dozed off still holding his phone, feeling much more tired now that he’s back at attending games even though he doesn’t play the full match.
Your Wednesday started with Luke’s little sobs waking you up, and you were sure he wasn’t feeling well again. After breastfeeding and showering with him, you managed to get you both changed and ready to start the day.
When you got downstairs your mother was already in the kitchen, and you could hear her complaining that you were late.
“For what?” you surprised her, and despite being early in the morning she seemed grumpy already.
“For breakfast, what more could it be? I had to cook it myself” she snorted, and you took a deep breath before
“If you’re capable of it, I don’t see what’s wrong” you shrugged.
The truth is that you’re starting to wonder what he hell you’re doing there and why Matt hasn’t come back. What should be a week turned into a month and you was living her life instead of yours.
When you sat at the table for breakfast, after managing to cook your own meal with Luke in one of your arms, you had to take a deep breath as soon as she started to talk.
You’ve heard in silence when she talked about you and Luke, but never makes you more furious like when your mother decides to talk about Mason.
“He could spend more time in the gym” she told you, suddenly. “Your husband”
You were only capable of frowning at her, not understanding why she would brought this out of nowhere.
“What do you mean?”
“He could train more. Maybe some more muscles would make him prettier and better at football” she shrugged, making you laugh in disbelief.
“He’s already pretty and good at football”
“I don’t know, Y/N. I feel like he’s not the right man to you, and I want the best to my little girl”
Mason is the most caring and gentle man you’ve ever known, and you knew you couldn’t sit there and hear her talking shit about him day after day.
“Mum, you can’t be serious. He’s my husband. Not only this, but he’s Luke’s father. Don’t talk about him like that”
“Are you sure he doesn’t cheat on you?” she innocently asked, making you choke on your coffee.
“Mum!” you gasped, not believing what she was saying.
Luke’s eyes widened and you tried to recompose yourself so he wouldn’t cry out of fear
“I mean, he could have anyone… everyone. A skinny and tanned woman, with pretty features…”
There it was. The reason why you grew up so insecure, something that would annoy lots of men — but not Mason. Not your boy, who would reassure you every time and make you really believe that you’re pretty and loved.
Her words still stung though, but you shrugged them off.
“Mason loves me” was everything you told her before leaving the table with Luke.
You went out for a walk with your baby, trying to make the day pass faster and see if he’d feel better after some fresh air. When it started to get dark, you came back home and gave Luke a shower, laying in bed with him.
Later that night Mason called you like he always does, and you were happy to see his name shining on your screen.
“Hi baby” you whispered, but to your surprise he didn’t greet you back.
“How’s Luke?” Mason murmured, and you could sense the tiredness and loneliness in his voice. “Don’t you think you should bring him back home so we can get him to our doctor?”
“Yeah, that’s what I want to do. But I can’t leave my mum alone and Matt won’t answer the phone-”
But Mason had enough, and suddenly he lost his patience.
“And why, exactly, can’t you leave her alone, Y/N? Enlighten me, please. From what I can remember, she can do everything perfectly. She’s not sick, she’s not weak. She’s just using you”
Mason never liked your mother, much due to how she treats you, and you understand. It just hurts that you have so many good things to talk about his mother whilst yours is always giving him reasons to hate her.
“Mason… she’s my mother. Can we not talk about her like that?” you murmured, but you know he’s right.
On the other side, Mason did his best to not scream at you, something he swore he would never, even if it’s out of frustration.
“She’s your mother, yeah. And I’m your fucking husband. I know you never chose to have a narcissist as your mother, but you chose to marry me and I thought I would have an important spot in your life. I know family comes first but I thought that someday you’d start to prioritize the family you made”
You could feel how tired he was. How he needed you to understand his point.
“I’m trying, Mase” was the only thing you were capable of whispering.
“You say you are but you keep choosing her. You keep going when she calls even though you know she’s only going to hurt you. You keep choosing your mother over your husband and I don’t know if I can do this anymore”
“Mason…” your heart dropped. “Don’t say that”
“Do you have any idea of how much I miss my son? How much I’ve been missing my wife? It’s been a month, Y/N. And I feel like you’re not thinking about my feelings, at all”
“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, it was supposed to be just a week” you tried to defend yourself. “I don’t know what’s going on or why Matt isn’t back yet. It has been hard for me too, yeah? I miss you so much and I’m sorry”
“Well I think you should set your priorities” he murmured before turning the call off on your face.
You instantly felt the tears forming. He hasn’t said it was over, but it was obviously a warning that it wasn’t over just yet.
With a sick Luke in one of your arms, you started to clean the room you had been staying in. Cleaning always helps you, and you let your cry reach out to you during the process, feeling overwhelmed and tired.
You wanted your home and your husband, but as a daughter you feel like you need to take care of your mother. Like you’re supposed to give her everything she’s been giving you your whole life.
After tidying the room you went downstairs to prepare the dinner, and whilst you mixed the sauce something snapped. What were you doing there?
You should be cooking for Mason, so he would have a proper meal after his nap. Luke should be sitting in his baby chair whilst you were humming happy songs. Not there, where your mother can cook her own dinner and clean her own house.
It wasn’t your fault that she couldn’t understand that you have your own family now.
When you set the table for dinner your mother wasn't home yet, and you ate with Luke’s little screams, trying to smile at him. She finally arrived an hour later, and whilst she entered the house you decided that you had enough.
“I’m leaving tomorrow morning” you told her whilst she closed the door. “Mason will face Chelsea and I need to be there. And Luke is sick, so I’m heading back home after the game to take him to his doctor in Manchester”
“What are you talking about? He looks fine”
“I’m his mother. I know when he’s not doing well” you snapped at her. “And don’t come to me saying you don’t wanna be alone. You’re not alone, are you? Because I spent the day here to be with you whilst you’re walking around the city or going to your friend’s house” you tried not to snap. “And getting drunk every Saturday even tho I tell you how much I hate it. We’re leaving tomorrow, whether you like it or not”
Not leaving her time to answer, you went upstairs to sleep a bit. When Luke finally slept you debated whether or not you should send a message to Mason letting him know you would go back home after the game.
Deciding not to disturb him any more and imagining that he was still upset with you, you laid with your son and tried to sleep, but the shooting thoughts wouldn’t let you.
What if Mason had enough? What if he doesn’t want you anymore, what if you are too late?
When you woke up, you took Luke in your arms and started to pack. Since you were supposed to stay only for a week you didn’t have much to organise, and soon you were ready to go.
Your plans were to drive to Stamford Bridge and see Mason after the game before heading to Manchester whilst he came back home with the team.
But as soon as you checked beneath the pillow and under the bed, you realised your phone wasn’t anywhere.
Taking Luke downstairs and looking everywhere you could, you tried to ask your mother.
“Have you seen my phone? It’s not where it should be”
“You should take care of your stuff, Y/N. I thought I taught you that your things are your responsibility” she told you with a flat look and you stared at her for a few seconds, in disbelief.
After hours of searching for it, you gave up. There was only an hour left before the game and since you only started to drive recently the idea of driving around without following the GPS terrified you, so you had to make a choice.
Plus, you were tired from searching for it and all you wanted was to eat something and watch the game with Luke.
Deciding to bath with your baby and cook dinner, you sat on the couch to see the game, your stomach churning with the need to be there.
A few minutes into the first half, your mother looked at you from up the stairs.
“I thought you were going back home today?” she teased you, making you frown.
You chose not to answer, paying attention to the game instead. When Mason was finally subbed on you pointed at him, bouncing Luke in your thigh.
“Look at dada, Luke. We’ll see dada soon”
“Dada” he babbled, making you gasp.
“Yeah, dada. It’s your dada” you poked his waist, the teas already forming. Luke couldn’t stop calling for dada once he said it for the first time, and he kept repeating it until the game was over.
You were incredibly sad by the result, knowing you should be at home when Mason gets there so you could hold him and scratch his scalp after his warm bath.
Deciding to sleep early, you waited for your mother to go to her bedroom and carefully brought your bags downstairs before laying with Luke and forcing yourself to sleep, determined to leave the next morning — even if you had to drive like the old ones, asking for instructions and following the signs.
On the other hand, Mason was desperate. He knew from the moment he turned the call off that he needed to apologise for how he talked to you.
But he was angry, stressed and frustrated. He wanted you there, supporting him. Cuddling him after his tiring games, listening to him when he needs to. He wants you there talking about your day, warming the bed, bringing Luke to him after a shower so you can change into your pyjamas.
He wants his family and he can’t cope with the fact they’re not with him.
Mason can’t believe you and Luke weren’t there watching his first goal, and scoring felt bittersweet. He wanted nothing more than to share this moment with you.
Since he met you, Mason knows how hard your mother is. Narcissist, dramatic, always trying to make you feel sorry for hurting her — when you were only setting boundaries.
And he also knows how hard had been for you, not finding the courage to break the circle and move on from her. But in all this time he never had to deal with this, you and his son so far away from him because of a woman who doesn’t even respect her own children.
When he went to bed a few hours after the call, Mason started to worry and he knows you were mad when you didn’t text him before bed, but at the same time he wanted to apologise for the way he talked he still meant everything he said, so he took a deep breath and choose to wait until the next day so he could talk to you properly.
His heart hurt knowing he was going to bed without telling you he loves you, something none of you ever did, but Mason was sure you’d figure it out after the game since you promised you would go, so he did his best to sleep and rest.
He looked everywhere. He asked everyone.
You just weren’t there.
When the game ended, Mason just wanted to bring you and his son and tell you he needed you home when he got there. He needed someone he could cry to, someone he could tell how overwhelming being back felt.
All he wanted was to survive the bus drive with all his teammates feeling sorry — for the loss and for him. And then lay in your arms so you could reassure him he’s doing well and that he makes you proud, whilst Luke’s little fingers tried to make him bald.
But they told him you weren’t in the United box and soon he found out you never entered the stadium Mason’s heart twisted.
First he felt a shameful feeling of anger. Why the fuck couldn’t you do this little thing for him? Relationships are supposed to be about making sacrifices and he watched you put yourself first for an entire month, always being understanding. The only thing he expected in return was for you to be there.
And you couldn’t? You say love him so much, but still couldn’t be there?
Then, when he finally showered and changed into some trainers before heading to the bus, Mason was able to check his phone just to see you hadn’t answered his pre-game messages, and quickly his anger turned into worry.
He called you five times, but every call went to voicemail. Mason pondered if you were ignoring him — or if something bad had happened.
Knowing you for four years, he doesn’t think you would give up on your relationship like that. But the way he hung up on you the night before, and how he accused you of not caring about him… he just can’t help but overthink.
With his heart pounding, Mason opened his Instagram app and searched for the only person who could help him, whilst he was forced to come back to Manchester when all he wanted to do was come to you.
The sound of the doorbell ringing woke you up, and you checked the hours just to see it was just past 2am. Luke instantly started to cry, and you took him in your arms before rushing downstairs and opening the door to the person you never thought you would see there.
“What are you doing here?” you frowned to your brother.
“Mason called me. Where’s that freak you call your mother?” he said harshly. “Why don’t you answer your phone? Your husband is losing his mind. He thinks something bad happened”
“I’ve been looking for my phone since yesterday morning, I don’t know, it’s vanished” you explained, following him. “Matt! What’s happening?”
“She’s been lying to you, Y/N. She’s probably hiding your phone right now. These are yours?” he pointed to the things you’ve packed, and you nodded. “I was never meant to come back. I told her I was leaving, cause I was tired of the manipulation. I was tired of her telling me my girlfriend doesn’t deserve me or telling me I owe everything I am to her. I owe her nothing”
You could feel the lump already forming in your throat, and you wanted nothing more than to call Mason. Matt silently put your bags in the front door, and soon his girlfriend got out of the car to take them.
“I realised something was wrong” you told him. “And Luke has been feeling sick so I packed, but then the morning I told her I’d go to the game and then head back home I couldn’t find my phone anymore. What Mason told you?”
“Not gonna lie to you, he’s feeling awful. I think he’s been crying, too. He told me you were supposed to go to the game tonight?” he asked, and you nodded, your heart dropping. “He said he tried to call you before and when you ignored him he thought you were still angry, but now that you didn’t show up at Stamford he thinks you either were kidnapped or decided to leave him. There’s only these bags?”
“Yeah” you quickly nodded. “She asked me to spend just a week”
“Compulsive liar” Matt snorted. “Let’s go, get in the car. I’ll take you to my home and we can go to yours in the morning”
You nodded again, but before you could obey him you mother showed up in the stairs.
“What’s going on here?” your mother’s voice made you jump as you were still two kids doing something she wouldn’t approve of.
“Please, don’t. Just go back to your room, I’m taking Y/N’s home”
“You can’t do that!” she raised her voice, trying to show a mother authority she doesn’t have over him anymore.
“What do you mean I can’t do that, you psycho? Leave us alone. You used me for years, I’m not letting you do the same with her”
“Don’t be stupid, Matthew. All I ever asked you was for you to take care of me like I took care of you your whole life. All I ever expected was you both to love me like I loved my childs” she gestured, and you could feel your heart hurting. She’s your mother and you should be so tough with her…
“Why can’t you understand that we have our own family now?” Matt snorted, his big body trying to hide you from your hysterical mother. “Y/N is a mother. She has a child to take care of, she can’t look after you when you’re capable of looking after yourself”
When you realised Luke was about to cry from all the noise, you started to rock him back and forth, trying to protect his ears.
“I am your family. All those years I left my life in standby to raise you. I gave you two food, a home, a warm bed to sleep” your mother shouted, gesturing.
“And as a mother this was exactly what the world expected from you. You did nothing but your obligations. No one asked you to be a mother, so you can’t point your fingers and act like we should be grateful for the simple things you gave us. The minimal” Matt kept his tone low. “But you lacked the essential. The respect for your kids. The love, acceptance. You only love yourself. Now you say we’re not returning everything you did for us but guess what: this is what you did for us. You reap what you sow. You can not raise a child thinking about what they can bring you in the future”
“Everything I’ve done, everything I say is because I care! But go on, make me the villain, take her thy stupid footballer” she turned to face you. “Go back to him and raise this stupid child. Just don’t come back running to mummy when he changes you for a prettier and hotter girl, leaving you with only his clone to remind you of what you’ve lost!”
It was unconscious, the way you left the safe space Matt had created for you and advanced in her direction. You never believed you were capable until it was done, the echo of your hand meeting her cheek spreading in the silent room.
“Talk about me as much as you want. But do never, ever again talk about my husband or my son. Is not our fucking fault dad couldn’t handle your behaviour anymore, and is not our fucking fault he left you for a prettier and hotter woman” you pointed a finger to her face. “I’m done with you. I’m done with you forever, and if cutting you from my life is what I need to do so I won’t be the wife and mother you were, then I’m doing it right now”
“C’mon, Y/N” Matt put a hand on your shoulder, slowly bringing you closer to him. “Let’s go home”
You checked Luke on your arms afraid your impulsive action had hurt him, whilst Matt took you outside.
“She still has my phone-” you realised before you could enter your car.
“Leave it behind, yeah? Mason can buy you a new one. Look at it as a new beginning” he squeezed your shoulders, and it felt like having a brother again.
In that moment you understood that this was what had happened to him, too. That this was the reason he never replied to you anymore.
When Matt left his mother’s house in an attempt to be free, he had to leave everything behind, including you.
You think you won’t ever really understand what it cost him to come back there, but he did it.
He could never leave his little sister behind.
You took Luke out from the baby seat before following Alice inside. She came back driving Matt’s car whilst he drove yours, so you hadn’t had the chance to talk to her.
Once inside, Matt put you in the biggest guest room of his house, trying his best to make you comfortable. You used the sheets and the pillows to make a fort around Luke, and went downstairs to talk to your brother after so long.
After making you all tea, Alice sat besides him and you genuinely smiled seeing how they clearly completed each other.
You started by explaining to them what she told you in the first place, and how she was trying to keep you there for more and more days every time another week ended. When you told about your fight with Mason, Matt was quick to reassure you that he knows Mase will understand you, but you were still feeling reckless and seeing your husband was the only thing you wanted.
“I tried to contact you” Matt told you shyly. “It’s been months since I left her house, maybe six?”
“Around Luke’s birth” you whispered.
“But I left my phone too. It was a choice I had to make. Since you don’t have an Instagram, I tried Mason’s but-”
“He’s too famous to see your message” you giggled.
“I think he unfollowed me when he thought we weren’t on speaking terms- when you thought we weren’t. He’s a good one, you know?”
“He is” you smiled, thinking about your boy.
“I’ll get the car ready for the trip” he murmured, suddenly looking awkward.
As soon as he left, Alice saw you were still processing your feelings and came to sit near you. After a few seconds in silence, she started to talk.
“You don’t have to love her just because she’s your mother” she told you, holding your hand. “Mothers aren’t saints, Y/N. It’s okay to dislike our mothers when they act bad, when they hurt you. It’s okay to even hate a mother that does no good to her kids”
“But she’s my blood” you told her the same you’ve always told your brother, but as a woman your age Alice understands your feelings and is delicate to answer you.
“That doesn’t mean anything. Do you see Debbie? Matt told me about her, and how much she cares about you. She’s your blood? No. But she’s been treating you better than your blood has” she ran hiii her fingers through your hair. “I know it’s hard to make this decision, but a mother that hurts and lies, a mother that tries to get in the middle of your marriage isn’t a good mother. Just think if you’d ever do to Luke any of the stuff she did to you”
When you looked up your brother was by the door, and you know he’s the only one who actually shares this controversial feeling with you.
“I wanna go home” you sniffed. “To Mason”
“We’ll take you there” Matt assured you, stretching his arms out to you. “But give me a hug first”
“I’m so sorry she got between us” you murmured after hugging him, resting your face on his shoulder.
“Me too. But see? We’re free now, princess. Your big brother is here”
When he opened the door for you early in the morning, Mason’s heart dropped. With Matt and his girlfriend waiting in the car, he was sure you were there to pick your stuff and leave.
“Mase?” you called him nervously, since he wouldn’t move or make any indication of hugging you.
“Are you leaving? I- I didn’t mean it you know, I didn’t mean to be rude with you I was just so tired and angry and I came home after training and you weren’t here and I got so pissed off” his voice was shaky and he didn’t stop talking to breath. “And then I thought we could solve things after the game but you weren’t at the game and I tried to call you so many times and I swear I wanted to go there and talk to you but the gaffer told me I was supposed to come back with the team”
You quickly entered the house so your brother wouldn’t be worried. The last thing you needed was him and Alice wanting to stay — you needed to talk with Mason alone, your family needed this time together.
You circled his waist with one arm, the other holding Luke between you two, and waited for him to hug your shoulders. When Mason calmed down you pulled away just so you could look at him.
“What’s going on?” you asked him, a hand going straight to his cheek. “Are you having panic attacks again?”
Mason shook his head, calmer now that you were inside the house and Matt’s car was gone. Luke stretched out his tiny arms to Mason and you instantly passed him to your husband.
“I thought- I saw Matt’s car parked and I thought you were here to take your stuff” he shyly admitted, his cheeks blushing.
“Oh baby, I would never leave you” you ran your fingers through his hair and your heart tightened when he hugged Luke like his life depended on this.
A lonely tear went down his cheek and you brushed it.
“We’re not going anywhere big boy, you can relax. I think you’re close to suffocating him” you giggled, your heart hurting at how tight he was holding Luke.
“Am I?” Mason’s eyes widened as he pulled his son away, to be sure he wasn’t hurting him.
“Sorry, I was just kidding” you laid your head on your husband’s shoulder. “We missed you so much. I’m so sorry, Mase”
When Luke laid his head on daddy’s other shoulder, your eyes watered.
Since you gave him birth, since he grew inside you even, you could never understand how someone could hurt their own child. You would die and kill for him, and you know Mason feels the same way.
Being a mother like yours turned out to be your biggest fear since you saw the first positive test. Now, each day he grows more you’re sure you could never.
You could never treat him like his opinions and wishes aren’t valid. You could never tell him he can’t simply answer you his point of view no matter what, even when you’re wrong. You could never put yourself first when your son depends on you.
“Believe me, I missed you more. The bed was always cold, every night, and the house is so quiet without Luke, the food doesn’t taste the same, there’s not a single drawing in the bathroom wall and everything looks so lifeless” his voice cracked, and you looked at him to see uncountable tears spilling down his face. “Ever again. You’re not leaving my side ever again”
You nodded, trying to reassure him and ease the panic you could see in his eyes. Hugging his waist, you peppered kisses to his jaw, feeling the salty water on your lips.
“We’re not going anywhere, baby. I swear”
Mason’s sobs caught Luke’s attention, and he looked at his dad with the prettiest face you’ve ever seen, full of confusion.
Your words weren’t enough to stop Mason’s breakdown once he was feeling safe to show you how much the last month affected him and his body started to shake, so you guided him to the couch and sat with your back against the arm so he could lay between your legs.
With Luke sitting on one of your legs and Mason’s head resting on the other, you let your husband cry.
“It’s ok, Mase” you scratched his scalp, trying to soothe him. Your heart physically hurt when he clinged to you, hugging your waist tighter. “I’m here now”
“Sorry” he whispered when you started to brush his tears.
“Don’t feel sorry for being hurt, Masey. You can cry to me whenever you need to, I’m here to protect you too”
“You, protecting me?” he giggled, and you smiled at the sound of it. He got up from your lap and gave you a shy smile, stretching his hands out for Luke who immediately tried to go to him.
“Yeah, it’s your turn to be taken care of” you shrugged, giving your baby boy to him.
“Oh so you’ll take care of me?” Mason gave you a smirk and you rolled your eyes playfully before remembering what you wanted to show him the most.
“Daddy is being a naughty boy, Luke. Tell him to be better, uh? Tell dad to behave”
“Da” Luke babbled, and Mason pinched his chubby cheeks.
“One month alone with mum and you already forgot that I’m your partner in crime?”
“Da-dada” he kept going, and you wish you could get Mason’s reaction tattooed, the way he confused eyes looked at you.
“What the fu-“
“Don’t curse” you giggled, covering his mouth, but Mason could hear the sad tone on your voice. “He said if for the first time last night, we were watching the game and I told him we would see dada soon. He can’t stop anymore I guess”
Mason kissed Luke’s cheek, laughing between sobs when he squirmed, giving little screams.
“You have training today?” you whispered, afraid of ruining the moment but Mason shook his head.
“I’ll call the gaffer to explain” he brushed his fingers through Luke’s face.
“I’ll run his bath then” you told your husband before kissing his head and quickly going upstairs, trying to give them some time alone.
In reality, you feel so bad for separating father and son for an entire month. Seeing Mason’s cry made it hit you how bad your actions hurt him, even intentionally.
Imagining how you would feel if it was the opposite, your heart physically hurt with guilt, how hard this month apart was for Mason and you could feel a few hot tears spilling down your face. Now, you can only hope he won’t hold any grudge against you, despite what you did.
Less than ten minutes later, Mason was entering your shared room and walking straight to the en-suite so he could find you.
“Babe? You can’t leave your boys alone, we don’t know how to take care of ourse- ei, what’s wrong?” he cupped your cheek, and just the warmth of his hand was enough to make you feel better.
“Nothing” you shook your head, drying your face with the back of your hand. “Can you take off his clothes?”
“We’ll talk about it once he’s sleeping” Mason kissed your forehead, squeezing your waist. You nodded, letting him go and undress Luke whilst you chose some toys for your son.
You put the toys in the bath, checking again to be sure the water wasn’t too hot and turning around to Mason.
“Can you bathe him?” you asked him and he instantly nodded, holding your waist before you could leave.
“Go bath in the guest bathroom if you need some time alone, yeah?” he caressed your chin, and your heart pounded even more with how gentle he could be with you even though you hurt him.
Since he seems to know you more than you know yourself, you obeyed. Taking what you’d need, you headed to the guest bathroom and took a warm shower.
You wanted to cry. You wanted to let it all go when Mason and Luke weren't around, but you couldn’t. There was just a whole in your chest, but no tears.
After washing your hair in an attempt to feel freshened and lightened, you wrapped yourself in your robe and came back to your room. Mason wasn’t there, so you imagine he was at Luke’s room putting him to sleep, and not wanting to get in the middle of their father and son time you changed in your pyjamas and tucked in bed.
Half an hour ater you still weren’t able to close your eyes, staring the wall. You’ve heard when your husband entered the room and changed from his trainers, wanting to lay down with you.
“You can go to training if you’re not too late, Mase” you told him softly, not wanting him to get in trouble.
“No way” was his only groaned response, and you sighed when Mason cuddled you seconds later, his arm circling your waist.
Your eyes instantly teared up.
“Go on” Mason kissed your shoulder. “You don’t need to hold it, it’s just us”
“I can’t believe she did this” you tried to tell him without crying, but with every little kiss on your shoulder you could feel the breakdown coming. “Lying would’ve been bad enough but hiding my phone? Not caring that Luke was feeling sick- oh we need to take him to Dr. Linn”
“I’ll take care of it. Keep going” he encouraged you, and you couldn’t understand how he was the one left behind for a month but still so worried about you.
“I don’t know why she wanted me there. The entire month, every day she had something bad to say about me or you, or even Luke. Always leaving to see her friends or get drunk, so in the end I was alone most of the time. She hates me and my family, but she still wanted to keep me around for some reason” your eyes were burning at this point, and Mason’s soft skin against yours made you feel safe enough to finally let the tears spill. “I’m so sorry you had to live an entire month without him”
His hug tightened a bit when you sobbed.
“It’s not your fault. And I lived an entire month without you too, you know? You were missed just as badly”
“It is my fault, Mason. You said it yourself, I chose her over my family and I’m really sorry about it. I want you to spend more time with him, make up for lost time”
Mason pulled away just enough so he could helo turn your body to face his, his hand going straight to cup your chin.
“Y/N, what’s that? I don’t wanna spend hours alone with Luke, even though I love him more than anything. I wanna make up for lost time with my family, not only with half of it. I was angry that night, yeah? I was tired and missing you and I was so pissed you weren’t here when I got back home, I just snapped”
“You had every right to” you murmured, his thumbs never stopping with caressing your face.
“And then the next morning you weren’t answering my calls and when the time came you weren’t at the game like you said you would and I was so scared you had given up on us. So during the night I couldn’t sleep and I realised… I know you, I know you wouldn’t deprive me of my son even though you didn’t want to talk to me yourself, so I panicked. I’m sorry I called Matt, he was my only option”
“Matt and I were good” you smiled at him, and the way his eyebrows raised made you giggle. “I could never give up on us, silly. You’re my everything. Not going to bed with you every night, not making your breakfast every morning… it was the worst month of my life”
“That’s why I gotta give you my attention too, babe. You’re my girl, and Luke knows how to share, you know? He’s not selfish”
“Well, I don’t think I deserve your attention. Look what you had to go through for an entire month” you groaned, but Mason just sighed before placing his forehead against yours.
“You were manipulated, by someone you love a lot. You were worried and wanted nothing more than to help her, and I understand that staying away from me was a consequence of what you needed to do in your head, even tho in reality you didn’t have to do anything. I don’t really like your mum but I love mine, and I know the feeling of being able to do anything for her” he held you tighter. “You don’t need to feel guilty about it”
“Mason, you can’t pretend it’s alright. I lost the most important game of the season. I lost your fucking goal. I should’ve been there to support you and then I should’ve been here to comfort you” you chocked, the guilty feeling eating you alive.
“Babe-”
“It’s not ok! And I’d feel better if you just admit it, let me apologise and forgive me” you tried to breath and calm down. “You lost the first time he called for you and it’s my fault”
“We’ll, I’m listening now. And he can’t stop, isn't it adorable? The tiny human we made. With so much love” he kissed your forehead. “I missed you so much I think I feel like making another one any time”
“Mason!” you gasped, feeling your cheeks getting warm.
“What? The day we made Luke was so hot. A mess, but incredibly hot” he closed his eyes, licking his lips and you had to look away with flaming cheeks. You know exactly the day you got pregnant since it happened in a month you and Mason only got to sleep together once. Mason laid on his back and helped you lay half of your body on top of his. “Fine, baby. Let me hear your apologies”
“I’m really sorry for missing your first goal. You have no idea how awful I feel, because I should be there to celebrate it with you, to scream loud with the fans, to show how proud I was. And I’m sorry I lost the most important game for you. I hope you know I would never do that on purpose, and we wanted to be there for you. But I watched on TV and I’m so proud of you. You did so well with the time you had, and I’m sorry about the general result. You were so pretty though”
“Was I?”
“I’m starting to understand the hair now” you giggled. “It filled my tummy with butterflies”
“Are you sure you don’t wanna make another baby? Because you’re sounding like you do” he teased. “You’re forgiven, princess. And I don’t wanna you beating yourself about it, yeah? I already told you, I understand what happened and how stuck you were. It’s your family, after all”
“No” you shook your head, clinging even more against him. “You are my family. You and Luke”
“And the babygirl we’re gonna make soon?”
“Stop” you groaned, burying your face in his bare chest. “I want another one too”
“Really?” he pouted, and you could never say no to him.
“We could try your girl or start the Mason Mount FC” you hummed, content when he kissed you.
“Perfect” he murmured, lips brushing yours softly. You stared into his eyes, smiling when he raised his eyebrows. “Wanna start trying now? Cause I honestly missed you so much-”
“Shut up” you giggled, relaxing in his embrace. Brushing your nose against his neck, you inhaled the after shave smell and focused on how soft his neck is.
After a few minutes appreciating his warmth, you allowed yourself to sleep deeply, finally in your home. Where you are loved for who you are, not for what you can offer. Where you are wanted and your presence is valid. Where you feel safe.
Not your perfect three store white house, no. Your home. Mason Mount.
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embrosegraves · 4 months
Text
𝕎𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕀𝕥 𝔹𝕖 𝕆𝕜𝕒𝕪?
Arthur Leclerc x Reader In which after the reader has an unwanted interaction, Reader’s 6-year-old daughter has a serious talk with Arthur “Would it be okay if I called you dad?”
Warnings/Notes: Google Translated French and Italian. unnamed ex-boyfriend.
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You had never imagined ever becoming a teen mum. You hadn’t given any thought to getting pregnant with your boyfriend. There was no need to think about stuff like that, the two of you were only 16. That’s why you were so shocked to find out a month before you turned 17, that you would be having your first child. 
Of course, after you eventually got over the shock, you immediately told your boyfriend. H was less than pleased with the situation. He didn’t outright say that he didn’t want it, but the way he treated you afterwards made that pretty clear to you. He was not going to help you. You had sat him down the night before your birthday to talk about what you were going to do. That night, he said that didn’t want to be a parent. That he didn’t want to be your boyfriend any longer. 
Most people would become hysterical. Most people would start crying and begging for their partner to stay with them. That they could make it work. But not you. Your response to his words had stunned him. 
“If you don’t want to be with me, that’s fine. If you don’t want to be a father, that’s fine too. After today I don’t want you near me or my baby, so once they’re born I want you to sign your rights away.” You were stone-faced with anger when you spoke to him. “No matter what you say or do from here on out, I will have full custody of my child and you will have nothing to do with them. Am I clear?”
He looked almost angry at your words, but he gritted his teeth and agreed to your demands. That was the last night you ever saw him. Either his family had moved away, or he had suddenly stopped frequenting the places you used to go together but whatever the reason you were strangely satisfied that you never ran into him for the remainder of your surprise pregnancy. 
Your parents were your biggest supporters throughout the whole ordeal. You could still remember the day your parents found out you were pregnant. It was the day you yourself had found out. Your father had found you in the bathroom, sitting on the toilet lid in shock with tears streaming down your face. He rushed to you, worried out of his mind. Your father’s arms had wrapped around you protectively and your crying got louder as you tried to explain the news to him. 
Your mother had come up the stairs when she heard you sobbing hysterically, only to find you clutching to your father as if he had told you he was dying tomorrow. He never loosened his hold on you as he explained to your mother what the issue was. She was equal parts worried and elated. Your mother took no time to join you and your father in the embrace. It had taken you almost an hour to come to terms with what you were about to go through, but knowing that you had your parents’ support and assistance made it all that much easier to deal with. 
7 and a half months later, you had given birth to a daughter. That was the first and last day that your ex-boyfriend saw your daughter. You had texted him to come to hospital as you had the paperwork he needed to sign so that he could give his rights away. Being in no state to follow him and make sure that he signed what was necessary, your father had followed and stood opposite to him so he could make sure he wasn’t going to rip up the paperwork. 
At some point in your pregnancy, you had expressed to your parents that while he had agreed to sign them away, you were worried that he would try something when the day came. Your father said that he would need a witness in order for the papers to be legal anyway, so he would be there to make sure your ex couldn’t try anything nefarious. 
Despite countless nights sat with your parents on the couch in your living room, you still hadn’t come up with a name for your daughter. Your mother’s family hailed from France and your father’s family hailed from Italy, so you wanted something that had both ethnic backgrounds. 
As soon as you laid eyes on your baby, after hours of labour, you knew instantly what her name would be. 
Colette Vincenza L/n
You were always thankful that she was a well behaved baby, she had only really started acting like the stories you’d heard when she was teething. But once she had all her teeth, she was a kindhearted angel for you and your parents. That’s how she was, even as she continued growing. 
When Colette was just over a year old, you had met someone while going about your day in the French markets. The stroller was in front of you as you browsed the stalls. You had been so absorbed in your daughter that you had failed to notice someone walking the opposite direction and had accidentally bumped into them. Because of the impact, the man had spilled some of his hot drink in front of him, and consequently onto your daughter’s stroller. You quickly grabbed Colette out and started to sooth her, as she had been shocked and started to cry. Amidst you trying to sooth your daughter and double check that none of the hot liquid had fallen on her, the man had started apologising profusely. 
“It’s alright, really. I should have been more aware of the surroundings.” As you continued to rock Colette, you finally looked up at whoever you had bumped into. He was very handsome, looked to be around your age, and was clearly worried that he had unknowingly hurt the small baby with you. 
“No no, it’s my fault as well. I wasn’t paying attention at all. Please let me repay you, I would never forgive myself if I didn’t help you somehow.” He sounded so sincere you couldn’t help but take a bit of pity on him. 
“I promise you, you don’t need to do anything. But if it would make you feel better, and if you don’t have anywhere to be right now, you could tag along with me while I finish my shopping.” He didn’t hesitate to agree, feeling bad enough as it was. 
Noticing that Colette had calmed down now, you ran your hand down the back of her head and spoke to her as you put her back in the stroller. 
“Tu vas bien maintenant Lette, Maman t'a eu.” (You’re okay now, Lette. Mummy’s got you.)
“Tu parles français?”  (You speak French?)
You looked at him as you resumed walking through the markets. “Oui. En plus de l'italien et de l'anglais, j'ai parlé français toute ma vie.” (Yes. Along with Italian and English, I have spoken French all my life)
“Abbiamo già due cose in comune.” His smile when he spoke in his mother tongue was gorgeous, but it had nothing on his smile when he spoke Italian. You couldn’t help but grin back at him. (We already have two things in common)
You continued talking with each other and by the end of the day you had learnt two very important things about him. His name was Arthur Leclerc and he was a Formula 2 racing driver for Ferarri’s Driver Academy. Eventually you had noticed it was getting late so you exchanged phone numbers to keep in touch and went back home. 
That was almost five years ago and since then, Arthur had taken you on many dates, some alone and some with your daughter. He was there for almost all of her firsts. Her first words, first steps and even her first loose tooth. Eventually he asked if you wanted to be his girlfriend and, though you had hesitated at first, you had become official with him. 
Arthur was over at your place playing with Colette when you heard someone knock on your door. You looked at each other confused as you weren’t expecting anyone tonight, your parents would’ve called ahead if they were going to come by. Getting up from your seat, you gave Arthur a kiss and kissed Colette’s head before going to answer your door. 
The person standing behind it was very impatient as they kept knocking on the hardwood door. 
“Arrivo subito, calmati.” You called as you unlocked the door and opened it. Seeing who it was, you almost closed it straight away if he hadn’t put his foot in the way to stop it. (I’ll be right there, calm down.)
“Cosa stai facendo qui?” You tried to keep your anger in check as you looked at him expectantly. (What are you doing here?)
“You know I don’t speak Spanish.” 
“C'était italien, connard. What do you want?” Your patience was wearing thin. (That was Italian, asshole)
“I think you already know.” The bastard had the nerve to smirk when he spoke to you. 
“You have no right to her. You signed those damn papers. Even if you hadn’t, you had six years to see her. Why now?” 
“I was in the area. Thought I’d stop by.” 
“Well, you stopped. Now you can go.” You kicked his foot none too gently and closed the door before he could continue. Locking the door, you turned and walked back to where your boyfriend and daughter were still playing. Taking note of the time, you gently ushered Colette to bed before you and Arthur also began getting ready to sleep. 
There was no need to tell Arthur who was at your door, as your house was very open plan so he could hear the entire conversation from the living room. As you both laid down, he held you close and comforted you until you both fell asleep. 
The next morning, you woke up before Arthur, seeing as you had to begin working. You were glad that you had started a home business because it meant that you didn’t need to make the commute to work through morning traffic. All you had to do was get dressed and sit down in your home office so you could start answering emails from customers about their packages arriving damaged. 
Arthur had slept in a little that morning meaning that he was awoken by Colette climbing into your bed to lay next to him. When she saw he was awake, she nuzzled her face into his neck and he wrapped his arms around her gently.
“Can I talk to you?” She asked him. “Without Maman?” 
Arthur was a little worried about what she wanted to talk about, as she hadn’t ever come to speak with him alone. 
“But of course, Petit, what’s wrong?” 
“I heard Maman talking to that man yesterday, and I know I’m still little and that Maman doesn’t talk about my Papa, but I know that was him.” 
Arthur felt entirely out of his depth. He knew Colette was smart, he praised her constantly for it, but he hadn’t expected her to understand what happened the night before. 
“Did it bother you that he came here?” Arthur was ready to hunt him down and tell him to never even think about you or Colette ever again. 
“Not really. I know he helped Maman make me, but he’s not my real papa. It just made me think about something.” 
“And what did you think about, Petit?” 
“Would it be okay if I called you Papa? Je vois comment Grand-père rend Grand-mère heureuse, et tu rends Maman heureuse, alors je voulais te demander.” (I see how Grandpa makes Grandma happy, and you make Mummy happy, so I wanted to ask.)
Because the walls inside your home were very thin, you could hear the entire conversation between your daughter and your boyfriend. You were a little shocked at what she said but your heart swelled with more love than you thought possible when Arthur replied. 
“I would be honoured for you to call me Papa.”
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hehehehehehe I love this so much
The poll was VERY clear that people wanted this asap so here it is!
I hope you enjoyed reading!
likes, replies and reblogs are always appreciated <3
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blckbrrybasket · 2 months
Text
ᯓ★ 𝐒𝐨𝐚𝐩 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬
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MDNI
SFW
- Soap listens to The Northern Boys religiously.
- Soap is a firm believer in gold star stickers. He can and will be bribed with them.
- Soap has the coldest feet known to mankind and constantly puts them on everyone. No one is safe.
- Soap will do something dumb or cheeky and grin at someone until they notice what he did. (Ghost is usually the victim of this)
- Soap jumps up and smacks the door frame even when he can just reach up to tap it. He stumbles more times than not when he does this. (Ghost comes behind him and just raises his arm to hit the frame)
- Soap is an avid apple juice lover, but NEVER eats whole apples. He’ll strictly eat apple slices or drink apple juice.
- Soap mindlessly does the angry mom lips when he’s focused on something or spacing out. He also sticks the tip of his tongue out the corner of his mouth but accidentally bites it.
- At night Soap stretches and sticks his feet out of the blankets then jerks them back because ‘something might touch grab in the night.’ When he was a kid he refused to get off the bed at night so the ‘bed monster’ wouldn’t get him. He stills shuts the lights off and runs to his room.
- Soap turns around all the stuffed animals you own when you’re going to have sex. He also covers their eyes, or where their ears would be, at anything he deems to be unholy. Most the time its when you’re playfully cursing at him.
- Sprawls out on any surface; floor, bed, couch, you name it and his entire body is covering it. Even you. He’s a big guy, perfect to be your blanket! (Please let him be your blanket he gets so happy when you do)
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SFW (serious)
- Soap was catholic for a long time as a kid. He had a hard time sitting still during services which led to him getting into trouble often. Nowadays he still labels himself as Catholic but he doesn’t actively practice anymore. He isn’t sure if he can after what he’s done in the battlefield. If Soap took the time to sit down he’d realize he isn’t very religious, but he still wears a cross necklace. He feels like he needs to.
- While he likes keeping things lighthearted he understands the importance of being serious. If you have a problem he jumps on trying to fix it immediately, slipping a joke or two to lighten the mood, but he never undermines your feelings.
- When he gets home from being deployed he needs to take the first day to be near you. If you’re on the bed or couch you will not be getting up for hours. When you do he has his arms around your waist and shuffles after you. Soap is a lot quieter, but is usually closer back to normal the next day. He needs to grow back into being himself at home.
- Soap enjoys being the funny friend but when he slowly realizes to some people that’s all he’ll ever be he hates it. He so badly wants to be seen as a multilayered human being, but he feels that he’ll only be seen as the “funny/impulsive one.” Soap isn’t proud of his impulse issues. It reminds him of his dad.
- Soap is a huge family man. Lots of sisters, close to his mum, yet when his dad left he wasn’t too torn up. There were too many mixed feelings to navigate it. Some nights when he was younger he laid awake loathing his dad for leaving. Other nights he wanted the ideal version of his dad that had once been in his head to be real. No one took the absence easy, but if he said it didn’t bother him still, he’d be lying.
- ADHD. He was undiagnosed as a kid and got into trouble frequently, but when it didn’t go away it became a problem. Eventually he was diagnosed with ADHD and it explained some of it. Soap has trouble navigating with it. He can be too upfront sometimes and has scared off a few people by not picking up on social cues. Soap truly doesn’t mean to and it becomes one of those memories he thinks of late at night, filled with regret. On those nights he longs to be ‘normal’ or adjacent to.
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NSFW
- Soap is the easiest to get hard out of 141. He has a high sex drive, but not to the point its overbearing. You want to fuck? He’s always down.
- He’s also the most open to new things. Soap tends to get rough sometimes, but he always knows the line. Anytime he wants to be rough he walks through whats good and not. It’s honestly funny seeing him clasp his hands on his lap all serious like when he asks if he can fuck you rough.
- He craves to hit it raw. This man is the definition of “doggy style, sideways, frontwards, upwards, backwards, upside down, tilted, 69, from the back, 360 degrees no condoms, skin on skin.”
- Give him an inch and he’s running a mile. You mention a toy you want or a kink you want to try out? He’s on it!
- Soap does have a small secret though…and if you request for him to dress up in a pretty lingerie set you’d discover it. The delicate lace straining against his bulging muscles as he squirms to not rip or tear it. Chefs. Kiss. It’s one of the quickest ways to get him to sub. He’s so pretty he doesn’t want to go to waste!
- He’s lowkey nasty - in the way that if your makeup or hair isn’t wrecked he hasn’t done a good enough job. Soap doesn’t care how ‘messy’ you look in his eyes you are as beautiful as ever. When tears of pleasure collect in your eyes he could cum from that alone.
- Have I mentioned yet that he can cum untouched? It’s happened multiple times where you’ve talked a big game only to end up in bed with him shooting ropes of cum across the sheets at you kissing his neck. Don’t worry though, he recovers quickly and has stamina for days. He would never leave you hanging.
- He does aftercare, there’s no way would he wouldn’t, but he also is quick to fall asleep. Once he’s set you up and made sure you’re doing the best you can he’s out. If you turn away for one second you’ll hear snores coming from your side, where he lays on the bed.
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axelsagewrites · 8 months
Text
Jamie Tartt*Prick
Pairing: Jamie x f!reader
Word count: 2744
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Warnings: swearing, Jamie having daddy issues and insecurities, sad Jamie, drinking, Roy being Roy
Summary: after seeing how upset Jamie gets at Roys treatment of him reader decides to take a stand. set in season one but a timeline where Jamie is still a prick but not quite as prickish as the show
Inspired by a post by @if-i-look-straight-look-again (hope you don’t mind me tagging you)
Masterlist Here
“Hey baby how was your day?” you called out from where you lay on the sofa as you heard Jamie dragging himself in from practise.
all you had to do was look at him to see how it had been. the way he dumped his bag and let his jacket slump from his shoulders onto the floor before he trudged towards the sofa. you held your arms out for him to fall into as he curled up beside you on the couch. “Fucking shit,” he mumbled, his hand moving to grab yours to pull your arm over his tense frame till you were spooning him.
your hand shot to his hair, running slow strokes through his sweaty mane but that was an issue for later. when Jamie got in his own head, he’d often turn to you for comfort, needing to be held without having to ask. “You wanna talk about it?” you asked, kissing his temple.
“Roy was just being so mean,” he grumbled, his eyes closing shut as he settled into place, “And for no reason right. like I get I can be a prick but like I was no being that bad the day. then he was just shouting at me like I was stupid and I was no being stupid like,” Jamie sighed, almost sinking further into the couch.
usually, you and Jamie would tease and rile each other up but you knew now was not the time, “I know baby,” you said, kissing him again as he began to relax. “I know its sucky baby but maybe eventually he’ll tone it down,”
“Doubt it,” Jamie mumbled as he began to trace circles onto your hand resting over his chest. “Just sucks you know. I thought I was gonna train with some great footballer, but it turns out he’s just a has been,” you sighed but you didn’t want to provoke him further so the two of you fell into silence.
you remember the day Jamie found out he was going to Richmond. you had only just started dating then but he wanted to celebrate the news with you. he was weirdly excited about the whole thing which shocked you since he’d always talk about if he went to man city or Chelsea but there he was bouncing around like an excited schoolboy when he got the news.
he ended up inviting you to join him, his mum, and stepdad out to dinner to celebrate. it was the first time you’d met her, and you had to say she was an absolutely wonderful woman and you understood instantly why Jamie loved her. she had insisted it was far too late for you to go home after you’d spent the whole evening playing monopoly with the family. she had insisted you stay the night, and you ended up squished beside Jamie on his childhood bed for the night.
it wasn’t till you were about to fall asleep you noticed the poster on his wall, “Doesn’t Roy Kent play for Richmond?” you asked, disturbing a tipsy Jamie from his almost slumber.
“Yup,” he grinned as he pulled you into his arms even tighter, “Im gonna be playing with the Roy Kent,”
“You gonna get him to sign your poster?” you teased, leaning your nose in to rub against his making him laugh. Jamie had spent the rest of the night telling you about the highlights of Roy’s career before eventually you both fell asleep.
cut to his first day at Richmond he called you to say how the only thing Roy said to him was in the form of a grunt. you’d insisted that it would get better, maybe he was just shy, but here you were now with him curled up on the couch pouting over Roy. you knew better than anyone else Jamie could be a bit of a cocky prick. you loved it about him, most of the time, but you knew why he was the way he was.
you knew he craved the attention and praise he’d desperately tried to get from his father and then suddenly from his old hero. you remember Jamie’s calls after practise where he was absolutely exhausted from going full out when he didn’t have to. he had to move when he transferred to Richmond, and you had been unable to move with him at first. he’d tried to hide his disappointment over the phone, but you knew it was there.
you ended moving down after his first season and threw a housewarming party that he invited the whole team to. the party was swimming with footballers, even Higgins came, but no Roy. Jamie was all smiles and perky the whole night, showing you and the house off to all his friends, but once everyone left you could see the sadness in his eyes. despite that now seeming like so long ago you knew deep down it still bothered him.
“Do you think he’ll ever like me?” Jamie mumbled in the voice you knew meant he was on the verge of sleep.
“It doesn’t matter if he likes you baby,” you murmured, kissing the back of his neck, “it just matters that you like you,”
it was a couple of days later while you were getting ready for the day you noticed Jamie’s phone still sitting on the nightstand. this was especially odd since Jamie never left the house without his phone and practise was supposed to be starting right now. it wasn’t uncommon for Jamie to wake up a bit late so you grabbed his phone, figuring he must’ve forgot it so you would be generous and drop it off for him.
it was as you were about to drive off you got a phone call from a front desk lady at Richmond saying Jamie had asked you to bring it in. you laughed at the predictability of your boyfriend before heading off to the club. you were able to get in no problem and insisted on dropping it off to Jamie yourself to not create more work for the receptionist.
you headed to the pitch, knowing the club like the back of your hand by this point. they were all practising what you thought was dribbling when Jamie suddenly noticed you. he paused mid dribble and waved with a goofy smile before running over to you.
“You’re a life saver princess,” he said as he took the phone off of you to stash in his hoodie he’d left at the side of the pitch.
“You need your girlfriend to teach you how to play Tartt?” a gruff voice barked from behind.
you span around to see the culprit of your boyfriends upset storming over, “Calm down grandad,” Jamie scoffed as he stood back up, “Was just getting meh phone alright?”
Roy stared your boyfriend down as he said a quick goodbye to you, kissing your cheek, before jogging back over to the rest of the boys. you could see Jamie’s new coach walking towards you in the corner of your eye, Ted you think Jamie had said, but your eyes were glued on Roy as you folded you arms as he began to walk away, “What is your problem?”
your words shocked the whole team into stunned silence as they stopped their drills, “Excuse me?” Roy asked, his eyes wide as he turned around.
“Do you need the attitude to play or is it just an added bonus?” you glared right at him, not caring how loud he chose to yell at you.
“Your boyfriend the one with the fucking attitude,”
“At least my boyfriend can still kick a ball,” you spat back making the boys behind Roy gasp and a vein pop in the captain’s neck, “What kind of captain just grunts orders and expects their players to play well?”
“This one fucking does,” Roy said.
At this point the new coach decided to step in, getting between you and Roy, “Well howdy there im Ted,” he said, holding out his hand for you to shake which you did while still glaring at Roy, “Is everything all hunky dory here?” he asked, looking between you both like an actual fight might break out.
“Everything’s perfect,” you smiled, your eyes locked on Roy’s.
“Fucking peachy,” he grunted back, his eyes not leaving yours either leaving Ted in an uncomfortable silence, “I’ve got training to do,” Roy said, eventually backing down from the challenge and stomping back to the team, waving off anyone who tried to speak to him.
you glared after him before turning back to Ted. instantly a smile spread across your face as you reached out your hand to shake his, “Nice to meet you Ted, I’m Jamie’s girlfriend,” you smiled as you introduced yourself and you could see the confusion written in teds face as he tried to figure out what was happening.
he snapped out of it as he shook your hand, a smile spreading to his own face, “Well nice to meet you, I think,” Ted said, and you spoke to him for a minute or so before finally leaving.
you wondered for the rest of the afternoon if you had went to far as you waited for Jamie to get home but when the door slammed shut and a loud, “I’m home,” rang out across the house you knew it had been a good practise, “Babe I gotta tell you that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” he praised as he found you in the kitchen and pulled you in for a kiss.
you laughed against your lips before pulling back and turning your attention back to dinner, “Well im glad you had fun,”
“We should have even more fun,” Jamie said as he wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing your shoulder making you giggle as he wiggled his eyebrows.
“Later,” you said, hitting him in on the shoulder with a wooden spoon before turning back to attempt to finish making dinner, “Also I think we should have another team night. invite everyone round,”
“Why?” Jamie said as he settled to hug you from behind as you cooked.
you shrugged as you stirred the pasta, “Be a nice way to welcome Ted to the team I suppose,” you said. it did not take much Jamie much convincing to have a night of casual drinking with his team mates even if that meant inviting the new coach round.
the boys of course were more than thrilled at the idea since apparently the last couple movie nights had ended up in hour long fights over which film to watch. they all began to pour into your house on Thursday evening. Collin and Sam were the first to arrive, Sam even bring you a bottle of wine as a thank you gift, but it wasn’t long till your house was filled with footie obsessed boys who had brought lots of vanilla vodka and beer bottles.
Ted seemed a tad overwhelmed when he arrived, but you made sure to get him settled in, which was made much easier when the other coach, beard you think, arrived. everything was actually going pretty well until the room suddenly got silent.
you glanced up from where you sat on the back of the couch to see Roy Kent standing in your doorway. he walked in slowly, not bothering to say hello as all eyes were on him. “Roy,” you said, slowly getting off the couch as you tried not to step on Issac or Jamie.
he grunted in response before finally adding, “Hey,” he said before looking around, “What’s everyone staring at?”
everyone’s eyes darted away as they tried to pretend to be in conversations, “Kitchens over there if you wanna stick that in some ice,” you said, motioning to the drinks he had brought. Roy nodded before walking off to the kitchen.
before you could walk to follow him, Jamie grabbed your wrist, pulling you down so he could whisper in your ear, “Roy Kents at my party!” he drunkenly grinned in your ear.
“Yes, he is baby,” you whispered back, no where near as buzzed as Jamie, before kissing his cheek and standing back up, “I’ll be two seconds alright?”
you quickly went to join Roy in the kitchen who was opening his beer bottle on your countertop but now did not feel like the time for arguments. he looked up silently as you walked in but as you walked over, he held out the bottle for you which you gladly accepted as he opened one for himself. “Suppose this is when I say sorry for being a dick,” you said before taking a sip out the bottle.
“Are you gonna?”
“Nope,” you said, popping your p with a grin.
Roy laughed, well chuckled slightly, but still, “Good. couldn’t respect you if you did,”
you both fell into a somewhat comfortable silence as you sipped your beers. You decided you couldn’t take it anymore though and decided to break it, “Why are you so hard on Jamie?”
“Your boyfriends a prick,” Roy grunted, and you laughed a little, “Which im guessing you already know,”
“Obviously,” you said before hopping up to sit on the counter, “Just don’t know why it bothers you so much,”
Roy sighed as he downed the rest of his beer, “Because I was the prick,” he said as he began to open another bottle, drinking half of it in one go like a pro, “When I started, I was just as irritating as that shit, if not worse,”
“So, because you sucked you have to take it out on him?” you asked.
“He’s not gonna get anywhere by having everyone kiss his ass,” Roy spat right back leaving you in a far tenser silence than before which was only broken by a regretful sigh from Roy, “He’s good alright. really fucking good. but he needs to fix his fucking attitude,” he said making you raise an eyebrow with a slight laugh, “Alright I get the irony,” Roy said as he sat his beer down.
you hoped off the counter and held your hand out to him, “Truce?” you asked and silently he shook your hand, and you wondered if he had deliberately made his grip extra strong, “Lets just try have a good night. socialising is fun,” you teased as you took another drink making Roy roll his eyes.
almost as if on cue Jamie walked in the room, stumbling slightly, “There you are,” he grinned, quickly moving to your side and wrapping an arm round your shoulder before placing a wet kiss to your cheek, “Whatcha talkin about?” he asked with a drunken grin.
“You,” Roy deadpanned making Jamie’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, “Your girlfriends…nice,” he finally said before walking out the room, his third beer in his hand. you wondered if drunk Roy would be more fun and contemplated switching his beer for vodka given the chance.
Jamie turned to you, his jaw hanging open as he began to hold you tighter, “Roy Kent likes my girlfriend,”
“Roy Kent likes you too dummy,” you giggled as you turned to try escape Jamie’s grip to no avail.
Jamie gripped your wrist, his eyes going wide, “He said that?”
You didn’t want to lie but you knew how much this moment meant to Jamie, “He said, and I quote, ‘really fucking good’ and that you reminded him of himself,” you said, leaving out the insults so Jamie could have his win.
Jamie jumped up and down on the spot, doing a silent cheer as he grabbed your hands, “No fucking way,” he whispers shouted and you wondered how on earth drunk Jamie was quieter than sober Jamie, “Man that’s so cool,” Jamie gushed as if he was still twelve, “Except im prettier than him, obviously,” he said bringing out that cocky side you secretly adored.
you took his face in your hands, giving him a swift peck on the lips, “Much prettier. now should we get you back to your party?”
Jamie grinned as he pulled back before sticking his hand out dramatically for you to take which you gladly did. he pulled your arm, spinning you around the kitchen making you laugh loudly before finally leading you back into the living room. even if Roy was sitting silently in an armchair watching the team make a full of himself you swore you saw a smile at the edge of his lips. the ice was finally melting.
a/n: writing this feels very ironic for me since i started the show as a roy lover and jamie hater but now im a die hard jamie defender (still love roy just as much tho if not more than when i started)
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manicrouge · 3 months
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Christmas Comfort
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[ꜱɪᴍᴏɴ ʀɪʟᴇʏ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]
[ᴅᴀᴛᴇ ᴘᴏꜱᴛᴇᴅ]: 25/12/23 (REPOSTED: 09/02/24)
[ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ]: After Johnny's death and a failed mission, Simon returns home to his girlfriend.
[ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ]: 3.3k
[ᴛᴡ]: hurt/comfort, angst, a somewhat happy ending (it will never be fully happy without soap I am sorry) possible mw3 spoilers (if you have been living under a rock please avoid)
[ᴀ/ɴ]: THIS IS A REPOST !! I've had few issues with shadowbans and have moved accounts a few times (tumblr thought I was a bot). I want all of my stories to be on the same blog so I apologise for the repost.
ANYWAY !! ENJOY !!
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Christmas this year is going to be tough.
You know it from when you open the door to him on Christmas Eve. 
Time has passed, he hasn’t been home for months and you were starting to convince yourself that it’s going to be years before you ever see him again.
When you were talking on the phone earlier, sometime during the middle of November, he had made a comment that he wasn’t going to come back home until he had made sure he had the pleasure of declaring that the enemy that had murdered his best friend was officially gone for good. While your chest tightened at his comment, you had nodded along and assured him that they would catch Makarov eventually; there were only so many places one man could hide before he’d revert back to familiar ground. 
You feared the same for Simon at that moment. In fact, even with him home safe, you still do.  
Of course, you would never say that to his face.
Despite his capability in combat, however, you often find yourself awake at night wondering just how capable he was when it came to processing and dealing with loss. Had he done what you assume he has done, he was most likely going to run from it instead of addressing it. Problems will build up and up until they came tumbling down. It’s a simple thought to construct during the late nights you have been spending alone since the news of what had happened to Johnny had found its way to you. Just as such a thought is easy to construct, you find that another one comes to you quicker than the former: where would Simon be when the building he’d constructed over the years fell to pieces? 
There were only so many places he man could hide before he’d refer back to familiar ground. Even if said ground was crumbling around him. Maybe in his misery, he would find solace in falling to his doom with the chunks of shattered earth surrounding him.
If that assessment is wrong, it doesn't matter; your brain has decided it before your heart even gets a say.
You have very little to go off of concerning with how he dealt with loss, the occasional comment about his mum was enough for you to know that he wasn’t the type to completely forget about a loved one. 
He's vague about his past. The less said about it the better. 
‘You keep pawing an’ clawing at my brain like a damn puppy,’ he said, trailing his hands through your hair. You were guilty, for sure you were. Curiosity was sure to be the death of you in that regard. He’d let small facts slip on occasion, although, you knew his accidental slip ups were most definitely intention. 
Of course, Simon Riley was no fool.
’Just tell me something,’ you begged, ‘like… I don’t know, what was your favourite food to eat at Christmas when you were younger? Ooo, I bet it was something like liquorice. You’d so make your nan pissed by robbing all the good shit out of the sweet tin.’ You laughed at the thought of a tiny Simon Riley climbing on top of a chair, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he attempted to snatch the sweet, sweet treat of liquorice. 
‘Are you fuckin’ kidding me?’ he scoffed, ‘actin’ like I’m an old man doll,’ he snorted, ‘stop tryin’ to pester me f’r memories you have no business viewing.’
‘Is it illegal to be curious now?’ you asked with a playful smile. It was silent for a moment, and you lifted your head in an attempt to find his eyes in the darkness.
‘Yes, it is,’ he said, ‘you don’t wanna know me from the past, love,’ he huffed, ‘doesn’t matter now.’
‘You won’t even tell me what your favourite food was during Christmas?’ 
‘No,’ he reverted back to the same Simon you had seen when Johnny had been talking his ear off during the rare nights out you had had with 141. ’Now go t’ sleep, gonna be tired in the morning if you keep rambling on. My ears are burning with ya, doll,’ he teased, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you firmly against his chest. 
Despite everything telling you to pull away from him, you maintained your closeness, the warmth of him far too appetising to refuse. Exhaling deeply, you rested your head against the pillow, staring straight at the wall in front of you. Your heart hurt at the very thought that he cared so little about his past that he fought to keep everything from his earlier life away from you. Even the smallest things. Of course, you would never had pried him, only the few passing comments in hopes for him to slip up as he had done a few times before. 
Another hard sigh escaped you as you close your eyes. He shifted behind you, resting his head against your shoulder. You thought nothing of his sudden movement; it wasn’t uncommon for him to do so while you were sharing a bed together. Only, he turned his head, his breath ghosting your ear. Inhaling, he swallowed hard. ‘Mum used to make us roast dinners,’ he whispered, ‘used to always slap my hand away whenever she was cooking cause I used to always rob the pigs-in-blankets while she was still getting dinner ready.’
A small laugh passed your lips as you turned in his hold, placing your hand against his cheek with a cheeky grin. He stares back, blue gaze gutting through the darkness, slicing your soul to pieces.  ‘Now, will y’ stop huffin’ and puffing and just go to sleep?’ He asked, placing his hand over yours. 
‘Soundly, Lt.’
Even behind the mask, you could sense the sadness, the loss. A flurry of emotions hits you when you first see him after what has happened. What can you say to him? Anything other than I’m sorry seems to be an insult to him and to the memory of the man that is sure to haunt him.
The mask hides his face, but it never hid his eyes, his tired and war-weary eyes. It's a brutal sight to see the man who had put the fear of God through you when you had first met reduced to this crushed soul. 
‘Simon,’ you say after a while of the pair of you just standing there, staring at each other. For a brief moment, it felt as though you had opened the door to a stranger instead of your boyfriend. Lifting his head, his Adams apple bobs beneath his balaclava as he steps forward. You take a step back, letting go of the edge of the door. Still, he doesn't speak, only standing there, observing you. ‘I thought you said you weren’t coming home until—‘
‘Don’t wanna talk about it,’ he answers, closing the door behind him.
His clothes are branded with the stench of war, and you take note of his bloodshot eyes. Has he been crying? You thought it impossible for such to be the case, he’d do no such thing. But, when he shakily inhales, grabbing the edge of his balaclava, your stomach dropped.
‘Place looks nice,’ he says, though his eyes don't leave you, ripping his mask from off of his face, shoving it into of his cargo pants. His words were shaky despite the stoic expression on his face. ‘You been alright?’
You look at him with wide eyes. ‘I- uh- yeah, yeah, just sorting out last minute things for Christmas,’ you answer, ‘how about you go and get a shower, get changed into some fresh clothes? I’ll make you something to eat—‘
‘Not hungry,’ he answers frankly, ‘appreciate the offer, doll, but I think I’m just gonna go straight to bed,’ he says. All the moisture in your mouth disappears and you’re forced to swallow a dry mouthful of air as you look up at him. 
‘Right,’ you nod, ‘I- I’ll be up right after you, just gonna turn everything off down here,’ you say.
He doesn’t answer you after that, dropping his duffle bag down on the ground by the front door as he traipses up the wooden steps of your home. The garland wrapped around the bannister winks at you as you watch Simon walk up the stairs, almost mocking you for ever think it was a good idea to decorate.
The entirety of your house is wrapped like a Christmas present, reds, greens, colourful lights- everything. Whether it was the right thing to decorate or not, you choose not to focus on it too much as you rush around the house, switching off the decorations and the lights, leaving the washing you had been doing on the counter in the kitchen. 
All of it can wait. But he can’t. 
So, with such a thought in mind, you busy yourself with your plan. What is included in that plan can be decided as you’re walking through the house, back to the staircase you have just seen your poor boyfriend walking up.
Jogging up each step, you decide that ultimately, everything that has happened in the past few months with be something he will not be willing to discuss with you; he made it clear when he walked through the door. Don’t push him on it.
When your foot hits the last step, you nod to yourself as you consider what you would do if he did want to talk to you about it. If he wants to talk to you about it, then you rejoice in his openness. But it isn’t necessary for him to have your undying support. No matter what he decides, ultimately, your heart is never going to fail on him. 
Before heading into your bedroom, you gulp when you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. Pulling it out of your pocket, your eyes scan over the message, a shallow exhale escaping your lips. 
Mum &lt;3: Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. made sure to grab extra pigs-in-blankets incase Simon decides to appear sometime. Love you xx
Begrudgingly, you stare down at the message before looking at the bedroom door. From beyond it, you can hear the running water in the shower and all you can think about is him. So, with a deep breath, you look back down at your phone and begin to type. 
From ‘me’: Slight change of plans but I don’t think we’re going to be able to make it there tomorrow. Simon’s just got home and he’s not good. Don’t think socialising is what he needs right now. Sorry, I love you xx
Choosing has never been easy, yet, when you pushed open the bedroom door and saw his clothes sitting on the bed the pair of you share, you decide that that choice was the easiest one you have ever made in your life. It isn’t a sacrifice when it is necessary. At least, not when it comes to Simon at least. 
--
‘I’m not going home tomorrow,’ you tell him when he walks out of the bathroom. Part of you feels bad for bombarding him with something as soon as he walks out, but the affirming text from your mother causes your heart to swell, and when you see him again, it bursts. His hair is damp and he pulls his face out of the towel with a surprised look. His scarred cheeks are branded with a subtle red tinge from the heat exuding from the bathroom. The heat works well to melt his features just enough for him to mould them into a dissatisfied sneer. ‘I don’t wanna fight you on this, Si.’
‘You can’t cancel on your family,’ he says, approaching his dresser. ‘Not right. I don’t want you to do that for me,’ he continues, grabbing a t-shirt, pulling it over his head. ‘Go spend time with them, am fine here.’ 
‘I already told my mum,’ you say, ‘she’s fine with it,’ you quickly reassure, far too aware that he very well may be a ticking time bomb.
Oddly, you request of not fighting on it seemingly works as he looks over his shoulder at you. There is simply no fight left in Simon Riley anymore, you conclude it from the way he shrinks as he exhales, padding up to the bed. It was as though he had left the house as a grenade left the hands of a soldier. Upon his return, the body of what made him him: his danger, his determination, and his strength had all been lost and you find he has been reduced to the pin pulled from the grenade. 
Looking up at him, you find that it is up to you if you’re going to discard it or keep it as a keepsake.
Pulling the edge of the duvet, you pat the side of the mattress, ‘c’mon,’ you say gently. He doesn’t wait to climb into bed beside you, resting his weary head against the pillow. It’s as though someone is pressing down on his chest as he heaves a sound unlike anything you have ever heard. Exhaustion was clear, but grief was easier to identify in his eyes. Leaning over, you turn the lamp on your beside off, trying your attention to him, lying on his side. 
There’s nothing to say. Not to him, not for him, not for yourself. You just lay there and stare at him hoping something will come to you. Anything said will be a bittersweet lullaby, you’re convinced. Nothing is going to put him to sleep. ‘Your minds running; faster than mine, sweetheart,’ he says. His eyes are closed when you look at his face. ‘Don’t want you doin’ stupid things ‘cause of me.’
‘Nothing is stupid when it comes to you, Si’,’ you weakly state.
At this point, you heart is racing, your tongue tangled as you contemplate every single word on the edge of your tongue. ‘Mum said she’ll bring us dinner tomorrow,’ you say with a weak smile, debating on whether or not you should spoil the surprise. ‘We can eat it and watch something… if you want to.’
‘What’s she bringing,’ he asks.
‘A roast,’ you answer, ‘it is Christmas after all.’
He’s quiet for a while, almost as though he doesn’t even want to think about what day it is. December 24th. Christmas Eve. You’re unsure how exactly the holidays work in 141, only noting that he had been away a few times during Christmas. Oddly, this is one of the first ones he’s home with you. His second Christmas since knowing Johnny that he isn’t with him. Your heart weakens at the realisation, your brain cursing you with the knowledge of something so agonising.
They had spent Christmas together.
And now they won’t and never will and it isn’t just because of the distance between Manchester and Scotland.
Rather, it’s because of the distance between this life and the next.
Your eyes well with tears and you close them. Your heart hurts for the man lying in front of you, and when you hear him clear his throat, you find it difficult to contain your own sorrow. ‘Doesn’t feel like Christmas,’ he tells you, his voice trembling as he does. ‘Haven’t slept at all since ‘cause I can’t stop thinking about him just… lyin’ there,’ his throat tightens and his tone grows pitchy as he inhales deeply, swallowing hard. ‘I shoulda done something, I should’ve been there f’r him.’ 
He’s crying at that point, but not sobbing. In fact, you only know he's crying because, when you place your hand against his cheek and the pad of your thumb wiped away a tear that falls past his eye. ‘You were,’ you choke out, ‘even in death, you were loyal to him, Si’, don’t you dare go cursing your own name for something you were not responsible for,’ you demand. ‘You’ll get him.’
‘We’re fallin’ apart without him,’ Simon sniffles, ‘bet he’s sitting up there pissin’ himself seeing me like this,’ he utters. The pair of you share a laugh at the thought and you move close to him. ‘I just… I told myself after everything that happened to mum and Tommy, I wouldn’t feel anything ‘cause that fucked me up, but then I met Johnny a- and I met you.’
You hold your breath. 
‘Simon—‘
‘And what if I can’t keep you safe? I’ve failed at it so much and that fucking pricks got me doubting myself now—‘
‘Shut up,’ you firmly say, ‘I don’t wanna hear it, Si’,’ you utter, ‘and neither would Johnny.’
You press your thumb against his cheek, ‘doubt is a killer, and it’s not me who you’re not gonna be able to protect if you keep thinking the way you are, it’s yourself,’ you continue, licking your dry lips, ‘and… and if you die, then who’s gonna steal the pigs-and-blankets on Christmas Day?’ 
Whether it was time for humour or not, you’re unsure. But, as you thinking for a moment, you recall the tales told to you by Simon during his time away, particularly his time with the Shadows. 
Two goldfish are in a tank… 
‘You still remember that?’ he asks eventually. You feel the muscles contort in his face as he smiles at you. 
‘Always,’ you respond, ‘mums got them with the dinner tomorrow ‘cause I asked her too… said she got extra incase you planned on robbing any of them.’ You feel bad telling him such information knowing that you had chosen to cancel the holiday. If anything, you’re worried about the guilt you’re causing him by rambling on about the stupid fucking pigs-in-blankets. ‘My point is Si’,’ you take a deep breath, ‘I need you here with me so you can fulfil your duty.’
He shifts and pulls you closer, wrapping his arm around your waist, pressing his face into the nape of your neck. Your hand brushes through his hair, melting in his arms as his hot breath fans against your neck. ‘Wanna see your family tomorrow,’ he says, ‘I’ll go with you.’
‘Are you sure—‘
‘’Ave been stuck in my mind for nearly two months,’ he confesses, pulling away from your neck. ‘Fighting with myself over everything, I’ve hardly spoken to Price or Gaz,' he says. You press your lips together, the thought of him being alone nauseating. ‘Be a waste of money as well if I didn’t try pinching the food your mums made, wouldn’t it?’ 
You feel him smile as he presses his face back against your neck, his grip on you so tight its almost painful. But you relent, allowing him to have the comfort he so deserves. Resting your head above his, you close your. Whatever awaited you in the future can wait, you conclude.
‘I'm proud of you,’ you whisper, pressing a kiss onto his head. 'Never gonna let you doubt yourself ever again, not on my watch,' you continue, 'now sleep. We can talk more when you're ready.'
He smiles again.
'I know I can sleep soundly now,' he utters against your skin, 'got you beside me.'
With that, the pair of you fall into silence. You don't sleep, not until you feel his breathing steady against you skin, the subtle rise of his chest as he keeps his arms around you. You keep running you fingers through his hair before eventually, you find your eyes growing heavy and you drift off.
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ghcstao3 · 5 months
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Hello! 👋 Hope you're having a fantastic day 💖 Could we maybe get a part two of that sweet Soap's mum's house story? Perhaps with some there is only one bed on the side when 141 retire for the night and Soap and Ghost have to share his tiny childhood bed?
i hope you’re well & ty for the ask!! writing this out i realize i’ve never actually written the only one bed trope before so! something new:)
(part 1)
-
Of course, as all rest and recuperation must go, there comes a point in their stay with Mrs. MacTavish where they all need to get some sleep.
Gaz is smart to take the couch, Ghost thinks. Price and Nik attempt to be discrete about sharing the one guest room available, and Ghost gets no choice in being dragged into Soap's childhood bedroom with the claim that there'll be an air mattress to blow up.
There is not.
Soap at least has the decency to look sheepish when he returns to the room after going to inquire with his mother.
"Ma said one of my sister's bairns made a hole in it last time they were up here," Soap explains. "So..."
They both slowly turn to face the twin bed shoved up against the wall, a mattress of which would certainly not fit two men of their size all that comfortably.
"No," is all Ghost says.
"C'mon, LT." Soap punches Ghost's shoulder. "We've managed with worse."
"I'll take my chances on the floor," Ghost grumbles. At least it's carpeted, he thinks.
Soap shakes his head. "And grouch about your back for the rest of the week? Not happening. Here."
The sergeant seizes Ghost's wrist and drags him toward the foot of the bed. He points to the mattress. "Sit."
Ghost reluctantly does as asked, watching silently as Soap digs through his drawers for pyjamas, presumably, but finds nothing that still fits. So instead he figures just to strip off his clothes, save for his boxers, as if his lieutenant isn't just sitting there.
Granted, they've seen each other naked before—they're soldiers, for crying out loud—but there's something... different about this. More intimate.
Soap climbs onto the bed, crowding himself as close to the wall as possible before patting the comforter.
"Your turn," he says.
"I'm not getting undressed."
Soap rolls his eyes. "Not that part, you dafty. Lay down."
Ghost huffs before awkwardly moving into place beside Soap. He lays stiff as a board, keeping as much to the edge of the mattress as he can manage without falling off—but even then, he's still inevitably pressed up against Soap in some capacity.
"Can you turn off the lamp?" Soap mumbles. Cleary he has no issue with this arrangement.
Ghost complies.
It isn't much of a surprise to him when Soap's soft breathing turns into snores in a short few minutes, all the while Ghost doesn't know if he's even so much as closed his eyes once, let alone taken a full breath. Being out in the middle of nowhere, it's hard to not be conscious of Soap beside him, when there's nothing else to turn his mind to.
Eventually, though, exhaustion does reach him. At some point Ghost feels the need to pull off his mask and at least attempt to fall asleep, because Soap was right—they have managed with worse.
He doesn't know when, but Ghost does end up sleeping.
And if Mrs. MacTavish finds the two of them curled up together the next morning, then she'll keep that to herself.
(And, of course, to the photo she takes to send to Soap's sister of her younger brother's face smushed into the back of the lieutenant he talks so much about. It's about time something happened, even if it's only this.)
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angelicglib · 4 months
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‧₊✩ Christmas Comfort ✩₊‧
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[ꜱɪᴍᴏɴ ʀɪʟᴇʏ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]
[ᴅᴀᴛᴇ ᴘᴏꜱᴛᴇᴅ]: 25/12/23 (REPOSTED: 28/12/23)
[ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ]: After Johnny's death and a failed mission, Simon returns home to his girlfriend.
[ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ]: 3,252
[ᴛᴡ]: hurt/comfort, angst, a somewhat happy ending (it will never be fully happy without soap I am sorry) possible mw3 spoilers (if you have been living under a rock please avoid)
[ᴀ/ɴ]: This is my first story here, please be kind I beg <3 also very sorry for this but I had the idea and thought it would be quite a bittersweet story for the holiday season !!
THIS IS A REPOST !! I've had few issues with shadowbans and have moved accounts a few times (tumblr thought I was a bot) so, if you would like more stories from me, my new blog is @manicrouge !!
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Christmas this year is going to be tough.
You know it from when you open the door to him on Christmas Eve. 
Time has passed, he hasn’t been home for months and you were starting to convince yourself that it’s going to be years before you ever see him again.
When you were talking on the phone earlier, sometime during the middle of November, he had made a comment that he wasn’t going to come back home until he had made sure he had the pleasure of declaring that the enemy that had murdered his best friend was officially gone for good. While your chest tightened at his comment, you had nodded along and assured him that they would catch Makarov eventually; there were only so many places one man could hide before he’d revert back to familiar ground. 
You feared the same for Simon at that moment. In fact, even with him home safe, you still do.  
Of course, you would never say that to his face.
Despite his capability in combat, however, you often find yourself awake at night wondering just how capable he was when it came to processing and dealing with loss. Had he done what you assume he has done, he was most likely going to run from it instead of addressing it. Problems will build up and up until they came tumbling down. It’s a simple thought to construct during the late nights you have been spending alone since the news of what had happened to Johnny had found its way to you. Just as such a thought is easy to construct, you find that another one comes to you quicker than the former: where would Simon be when the building he’d constructed over the years fell to pieces? 
There were only so many places he man could hide before he’d refer back to familiar ground. Even if said ground was crumbling around him. Maybe in his misery, he would find solace in falling to his doom with the chunks of shattered earth surrounding him.
If that assessment is wrong, it doesn't matter; your brain has decided it before your heart even gets a say.
You have very little to go off of concerning with how he dealt with loss, the occasional comment about his mum was enough for you to know that he wasn’t the type to completely forget about a loved one. 
He's vague about his past. The less said about it the better. 
‘You keep pawing an’ clawing at my brain like a damn puppy,’ he said, trailing his hands through your hair. You were guilty, for sure you were. Curiosity was sure to be the death of you in that regard. He’d let small facts slip on occasion, although, you knew his accidental slip ups were most definitely intention. 
Of course, Simon Riley was no fool.
’Just tell me something,’ you begged, ‘like… I don’t know, what was your favourite food to eat at Christmas when you were younger? Ooo, I bet it was something like liquorice. You’d so make your nan pissed by robbing all the good shit out of the sweet tin.’ You laughed at the thought of a tiny Simon Riley climbing on top of a chair, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he attempted to snatch the sweet, sweet treat of liquorice. 
‘Are you fuckin’ kidding me?’ he scoffed, ‘actin’ like I’m an old man doll,’ he snorted, ‘stop tryin’ to pester me f’r memories you have no business viewing.’
‘Is it illegal to be curious now?’ you asked with a playful smile. It was silent for a moment, and you lifted your head in an attempt to find his eyes in the darkness.
‘Yes, it is,’ he said, ‘you don’t wanna know me from the past, love,’ he huffed, ‘doesn’t matter now.’
‘You won’t even tell me what your favourite food was during Christmas?’ 
‘No,’ he reverted back to the same Simon you had seen when Johnny had been talking his ear off during the rare nights out you had had with 141. ’Now go t’ sleep, gonna be tired in the morning if you keep rambling on. My ears are burning with ya, doll,’ he teased, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you firmly against his chest. 
Despite everything telling you to pull away from him, you maintained your closeness, the warmth of him far too appetising to refuse. Exhaling deeply, you rested your head against the pillow, staring straight at the wall in front of you. Your heart hurt at the very thought that he cared so little about his past that he fought to keep everything from his earlier life away from you. Even the smallest things. Of course, you would never had pried him, only the few passing comments in hopes for him to slip up as he had done a few times before. 
Another hard sigh escaped you as you close your eyes. He shifted behind you, resting his head against your shoulder. You thought nothing of his sudden movement; it wasn’t uncommon for him to do so while you were sharing a bed together. Only, he turned his head, his breath ghosting your ear. Inhaling, he swallowed hard. ‘Mum used to make us roast dinners,’ he whispered, ‘used to always slap my hand away whenever she was cooking cause I used to always rob the pigs-in-blankets while she was still getting dinner ready.’
A small laugh passed your lips as you turned in his hold, placing your hand against his cheek with a cheeky grin. He stares back, blue gaze gutting through the darkness, slicing your soul to pieces.  ‘Now, will y’ stop huffin’ and puffing and just go to sleep?’ He asked, placing his hand over yours. 
‘Soundly, Lt.’
Even behind the mask, you could sense the sadness, the loss. A flurry of emotions hits you when you first see him after what has happened. What can you say to him? Anything other than I’m sorry seems to be an insult to him and to the memory of the man that is sure to haunt him.
The mask hides his face, but it never hid his eyes, his tired and war-weary eyes. It's a brutal sight to see the man who had put the fear of God through you when you had first met reduced to this crushed soul. 
‘Simon,’ you say after a while of the pair of you just standing there, staring at each other. For a brief moment, it felt as though you had opened the door to a stranger instead of your boyfriend. Lifting his head, his Adams apple bobs beneath his balaclava as he steps forward. You take a step back, letting go of the edge of the door. Still, he doesn't speak, only standing there, observing you. ‘I thought you said you weren’t coming home until—‘
‘Don’t wanna talk about it,’ he answers, closing the door behind him.
His clothes are branded with the stench of war, and you take note of his bloodshot eyes. Has he been crying? You thought it impossible for such to be the case, he’d do no such thing. But, when he shakily inhales, grabbing the edge of his balaclava, your stomach dropped.
‘Place looks nice,’ he says, though his eyes don't leave you, ripping his mask from off of his face, shoving it into of his cargo pants. His words were shaky despite the stoic expression on his face. ‘You been alright?’
You look at him with wide eyes. ‘I- uh- yeah, yeah, just sorting out last minute things for Christmas,’ you answer, ‘how about you go and get a shower, get changed into some fresh clothes? I’ll make you something to eat—‘
‘Not hungry,’ he answers frankly, ‘appreciate the offer, doll, but I think I’m just gonna go straight to bed,’ he says. All the moisture in your mouth disappears and you’re forced to swallow a dry mouthful of air as you look up at him. 
‘Right,’ you nod, ‘I- I’ll be up right after you, just gonna turn everything off down here,’ you say.
He doesn’t answer you after that, dropping his duffle bag down on the ground by the front door as he traipses up the wooden steps of your home. The garland wrapped around the bannister winks at you as you watch Simon walk up the stairs, almost mocking you for ever think it was a good idea to decorate.
The entirety of your house is wrapped like a Christmas present, reds, greens, colourful lights- everything. Whether it was the right thing to decorate or not, you choose not to focus on it too much as you rush around the house, switching off the decorations and the lights, leaving the washing you had been doing on the counter in the kitchen. 
All of it can wait. But he can’t. 
So, with such a thought in mind, you busy yourself with your plan. What is included in that plan can be decided as you’re walking through the house, back to the staircase you have just seen your poor boyfriend walking up.
Jogging up each step, you decide that ultimately, everything that has happened in the past few months with be something he will not be willing to discuss with you; he made it clear when he walked through the door. Don’t push him on it.
When your foot hits the last step, you nod to yourself as you consider what you would do if he did want to talk to you about it. If he wants to talk to you about it, then you rejoice in his openness. But it isn’t necessary for him to have your undying support. No matter what he decides, ultimately, your heart is never going to fail on him. 
Before heading into your bedroom, you gulp when you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. Pulling it out of your pocket, your eyes scan over the message, a shallow exhale escaping your lips. 
Mum &lt;3: Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. made sure to grab extra pigs-in-blankets incase Simon decides to appear sometime. Love you xx
Begrudgingly, you stare down at the message before looking at the bedroom door. From beyond it, you can hear the running water in the shower and all you can think about is him. So, with a deep breath, you look back down at your phone and begin to type. 
From ‘me’: Slight change of plans but I don’t think we’re going to be able to make it there tomorrow. Simon’s just got home and he’s not good. Don’t think socialising is what he needs right now. Sorry, I love you xx
Choosing has never been easy, yet, when you pushed open the bedroom door and saw his clothes sitting on the bed the pair of you share, you decide that that choice was the easiest one you have ever made in your life. It isn’t a sacrifice when it is necessary. At least, not when it comes to Simon at least. 
--
‘I’m not going home tomorrow,’ you tell him when he walks out of the bathroom. Part of you feels bad for bombarding him with something as soon as he walks out, but the affirming text from your mother causes your heart to swell, and when you see him again, it bursts. His hair is damp and he pulls his face out of the towel with a surprised look. His scarred cheeks are branded with a subtle red tinge from the heat exuding from the bathroom. The heat works well to melt his features just enough for him to mould them into a dissatisfied sneer. ‘I don’t wanna fight you on this, Si.’
‘You can’t cancel on your family,’ he says, approaching his dresser. ‘Not right. I don’t want you to do that for me,’ he continues, grabbing a t-shirt, pulling it over his head. ‘Go spend time with them, am fine here.’ 
‘I already told my mum,’ you say, ‘she’s fine with it,’ you quickly reassure, far too aware that he very well may be a ticking time bomb.
Oddly, you request of not fighting on it seemingly works as he looks over his shoulder at you. There is simply no fight left in Simon Riley anymore, you conclude it from the way he shrinks as he exhales, padding up to the bed. It was as though he had left the house as a grenade left the hands of a soldier. Upon his return, the body of what made him him: his danger, his determination, and his strength had all been lost and you find he has been reduced to the pin pulled from the grenade. 
Looking up at him, you find that it is up to you if you’re going to discard it or keep it as a keepsake.
Pulling the edge of the duvet, you pat the side of the mattress, ‘c’mon,’ you say gently. He doesn’t wait to climb into bed beside you, resting his weary head against the pillow. It’s as though someone is pressing down on his chest as he heaves a sound unlike anything you have ever heard. Exhaustion was clear, but grief was easier to identify in his eyes. Leaning over, you turn the lamp on your beside off, trying your attention to him, lying on his side. 
There’s nothing to say. Not to him, not for him, not for yourself. You just lay there and stare at him hoping something will come to you. Anything said will be a bittersweet lullaby, you’re convinced. Nothing is going to put him to sleep. ‘Your minds running; faster than mine, sweetheart,’ he says. His eyes are closed when you look at his face. ‘Don’t want you doin’ stupid things ‘cause of me.’
‘Nothing is stupid when it comes to you, Si’,’ you weakly state.
At this point, you heart is racing, your tongue tangled as you contemplate every single word on the edge of your tongue. ‘Mum said she’ll bring us dinner tomorrow,’ you say with a weak smile, debating on whether or not you should spoil the surprise. ‘We can eat it and watch something… if you want to.’
‘What’s she bringing,’ he asks.
‘A roast,’ you answer, ‘it is Christmas after all.’
He’s quiet for a while, almost as though he doesn’t even want to think about what day it is. December 24th. Christmas Eve. You’re unsure how exactly the holidays work in 141, only noting that he had been away a few times during Christmas. Oddly, this is one of the first ones he’s home with you. His second Christmas since knowing Johnny that he isn’t with him. Your heart weakens at the realisation, your brain cursing you with the knowledge of something so agonising.
They had spent Christmas together.
And now they won’t and never will and it isn’t just because of the distance between Manchester and Scotland.
Rather, it’s because of the distance between this life and the next.
Your eyes well with tears and you close them. Your heart hurts for the man lying in front of you, and when you hear him clear his throat, you find it difficult to contain your own sorrow. ‘Doesn’t feel like Christmas,’ he tells you, his voice trembling as he does. ‘Haven’t slept at all since ‘cause I can’t stop thinking about him just… lyin’ there,’ his throat tightens and his tone grows pitchy as he inhales deeply, swallowing hard. ‘I shoulda done something, I should’ve been there f’r him.’ 
He’s crying at that point, but not sobbing. In fact, you only know he's crying because, when you place your hand against his cheek and the pad of your thumb wiped away a tear that falls past his eye. ‘You were,’ you choke out, ‘even in death, you were loyal to him, Si’, don’t you dare go cursing your own name for something you were not responsible for,’ you demand. ‘You’ll get him.’
‘We’re fallin’ apart without him,’ Simon sniffles, ‘bet he’s sitting up there pissin’ himself seeing me like this,’ he utters. The pair of you share a laugh at the thought and you move close to him. ‘I just… I told myself after everything that happened to mum and Tommy, I wouldn’t feel anything ‘cause that fucked me up, but then I met Johnny a- and I met you.’
You hold your breath. 
‘Simon—‘
‘And what if I can’t keep you safe? I’ve failed at it so much and that fucking pricks got me doubting myself now—‘
‘Shut up,’ you firmly say, ‘I don’t wanna hear it, Si’,’ you utter, ‘and neither would Johnny.’
You press your thumb against his cheek, ‘doubt is a killer, and it’s not me who you’re not gonna be able to protect if you keep thinking the way you are, it’s yourself,’ you continue, licking your dry lips, ‘and… and if you die, then who’s gonna steal the pigs-and-blankets on Christmas Day?’ 
Whether it was time for humour or not, you’re unsure. But, as you thinking for a moment, you recall the tales told to you by Simon during his time away, particularly his time with the Shadows. 
Two goldfish are in a tank… 
‘You still remember that?’ he asks eventually. You feel the muscles contort in his face as he smiles at you. 
‘Always,’ you respond, ‘mums got them with the dinner tomorrow ‘cause I asked her too… said she got extra incase you planned on robbing any of them.’ You feel bad telling him such information knowing that you had chosen to cancel the holiday. If anything, you’re worried about the guilt you’re causing him by rambling on about the stupid fucking pigs-in-blankets. ‘My point is Si’,’ you take a deep breath, ‘I need you here with me so you can fulfil your duty.’
He shifts and pulls you closer, wrapping his arm around your waist, pressing his face into the nape of your neck. Your hand brushes through his hair, melting in his arms as his hot breath fans against your neck. ‘Wanna see your family tomorrow,’ he says, ‘I’ll go with you.’
‘Are you sure—‘
‘’Ave been stuck in my mind for nearly two months,’ he confesses, pulling away from your neck. ‘Fighting with myself over everything, I’ve hardly spoken to Price or Gaz,' he says. You press your lips together, the thought of him being alone nauseating. ‘Be a waste of money as well if I didn’t try pinching the food your mums made, wouldn’t it?’ 
You feel him smile as he presses his face back against your neck, his grip on you so tight its almost painful. But you relent, allowing him to have the comfort he so deserves. Resting your head above his, you close your. Whatever awaited you in the future can wait, you conclude.
‘I proud of you,’ you whisper, pressing a kiss onto his head. 'Never gonna let you doubt yourself ever again, not on my watch,' you continue, 'now sleep. We can talk more when you're ready.'
He smiles again.
'I know I can sleep soundly now,' he utters against your skin, 'got you beside me.'
With that, the pair of you fall into silence. You don't sleep, not until you feel his breathing steady against you skin, the subtle rise of his chest as he keeps his arms around you. You keep running you fingers through his hair before eventually, you find your eyes growing heavy and you drift off.
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bayothemayo · 1 month
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ORAAAAAA!!!!!!! ⊂( ´ ▽ ` )⊃ GUESS WHOS BACK FOR ROUND 3 BBYYYY HEHEHE ~ ☆ (hope it's okay, if not then SHHH KEEP THIS REQ STASHED SOMEWHERE) but I'd like to req: Akira Kurusu x Motherly!Reader, where they first met cos Reader was worried about him during his time in Shujin, and stuck around him during his first few days there (kind of like Ryuji/Morgana in a way during the first arc of the game (?)). Fun and simple idea of Reader being the mum friend to the whole PTs group after (or when) she finds out about them and their identities, while also being completely oblivious to her own well being IF she ever became part of the group. I'd also like it if the HC starts off Platonic and slowly turns to Romantic? Where Akira realizes his feelings and tries confessing to Reader BUT Reader still viewed him in a platonic way?? branch whatever ideas you can come up with for this idm AND AGAIN TYTTT AND SLAY AS ALWAYSSSS !!!!!!!!! ☆⌒(≧▽​° )
Guardian of the Phantom Thieves (Akira Kurusu x Motherly! Reader)
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Even before you met Kurusu and the rest Phantom Thieves, you were respected in the school.
Teachers and students respect you for helping them out and tutoring them.
When Kurusu joined the school you got worried about him, due to people being afraid of him due to his background. You offered to help him with whatever he needed and gave him a tour around the school. You stayed by his side for around a week or two due to his situation.
Kurusu always comes to you if he needs help with his work or advice.
When you are not busy, either it being with helping people out or dealing with homework, you two hang out. It is mostly a chill type of hangout.
It took you some time to find out that your friends were the Phantom Thieves. When you found out, you were mostly worried about them. Yeah, they are THE Phantom Thieves...but you were worried about them. Worried that they can get too hurt or overwork themselves. After they send out a Calling Card, you text them after a little bit (you don't want to stress them out before them doing something big) asking if they are doing okay, if they are seriously injured, if they need any help with something, etc.
Something that you do after they finish a big job is that you make them treats. They have no say in the matter other than what treats they want.
With all these things that you do for Kurusu and the other Phantom Thieves, he appreciates you. A lot. Maybe too much for it to be platonic.
When he realizes that he has developed feelings for you, he starts to think to himself about how this is going to affect you two's relationship. After some hard thinking, and maybe asking for advice from Ann or maybe even Morgana, he decides to confess to you.
If you reject him and want to keep the relationship platonic, he would be heartbroken but he would understand how you feel and is still happy to keep the friendship.
If you accept his confession, he will be over the moon. Once you two become a couple, there is going to be a whole lot of comfort, snuggles, and more tasty treats involved.
~ When You Become A Phantom Thief ~
You most likely be more of a support member of the team like Morgana. Yeah, you have some attacks, but your main skill is the buffs and healing.
You were excited to be in the Phantom Thieves since you get to be more involved and help out more directly.
Since you found out that snacks can heal your teammates, you make some more snacks and find better ingredients for better results.
Sometimes you overwork yourself, you can't help it . Akira notices this and, caringly, scolds you. It took some time but eventually, you got the issue fix. If it didn't it would definitely end up bad in one way or another.
You are a supportive member of the Phantom Thieves and you couldn't be more proud.
But you are more proud of your friends. 😊
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wibta if i went behind my dad’s back and contacted my disowned brother?
so i (23m) had an older brother we’ll call J. i have quite vague memories of him, going to visit him at his house, him giving me gifts. i still have two gifts i got from him as a very little kid - a little disco ball that lights up your room with coloured lights, and a similar little nightlight thing that changes colours and looks like a firework. he got them for me because i was terrified of the dark.
i don’t remember him being disowned. i didn’t find out why until years later. i knew he was gay, and that my dad was massively homophobic back then (he accepts me being gay, but he still makes stupid comments about it, and he does Not like me being trans) so it was kinda implied to me that he was disowned for being gay especially because i was told about massive fights they’d had about it
when i was a little older i found out he’d been addicted to drugs. unsure what kind but it was pretty serious and he was getting into trouble with dealers in our area so he had to keep skipping town. eventually he developed drug-induced psychosis. the way my dad tells it he became convinced that people were hunting him down to kill him, that he was an important figure in some underground crime ring and he owned half the town, that the government was silencing him because they were scared of him etc it was causing some severe problems
he did go through psychiatric facilities a few times but nothing seemed to help him, he wouldn’t take medication, he didn’t want help. my dad eventually cut him off because in his words he couldn’t take it anymore, and my brother essentially disappeared from my life.
he reappeared in a way twice since then. when i was about 9 i got a phone call and i just remember him saying “[name]? it’s J. your brother” and i was so shocked and happy, passed the phone to my parents and him and my dad briefly reconnected and went out to lunch together a few times. however it didn’t seem to last long and my dad froze him out again, never said why.
then when i was about 13 he contacted me on facebook. it was under a fake name because since he left he’s changed his identity like a jillion times (which is why it’s hard to find him) because presumably he’s still running into issues with the law. he asked me how my dad was treating me and i can’t really remember what i said but i was probably pretty honest, at the time my dad was enormously abusive both verbally and physically and was for most of my childhood (not anymore). he said some weird things like that he’d always protect me, our dad was scared of him because he could beat him up, if i ever needed help just tell him and he’d “deal with” dad for me, etc. next thing i know cops are at my house saying they got a report i was being abused and they needed to ask some questions, but my mum was hovering over my shoulder the entire time and i was scared to get my dad in trouble so i froze up and said it wasn’t true and they left. after that my dad called my brother and basically told him to never come back and to never contact me again.
and he hasn’t. it’s been a decade since the last time i heard from him. for the most part i haven’t thought much about it, but for the last few months i’ve had constant dreams about him. it tears me up not knowing if he’s okay, if he still cares about me, if he Wants to come back and he’s just waiting for my dad to be gone, if he’s in love or married, if he’s gotten clean and medicated, if hes worse, i don’t know Anything. i’ve tried to find him as best i can, but because hes changed his name and i know nothing about where he lives or even solidly how old he is anymore i can’t even begin properly. i know my sisters are up for finding him too and have made posts on websites about reconnecting with relatives etc but with no luck. all the numbers i had for him are disconnected. i don’t even know what he looks like.
i asked my dad if he has any pictures of him, because i Know hes showed me some before, and he blew up at me. he said that J is violent and dangerous and that he doesn’t ever want to hear about me contacting him because it’s not fair to bring him back into his life (which is fair but also he’s become somewhat Toxic Self-Care the last few years like he literally let me become briefly homeless even though he is a landlord with empty houses because “helping you would stress me out i’m looking after myself” like sir WHAT) so i’ve never mentioned it to him again.
but i just. want to know how my brother is so bad. i think all the time about how different it could’ve been to grow up with a gay brother as a gay kid! to grow up with someone dealing with mental health when i started to and didn’t know what to do! to have someone understand my dad abusing me! to have someone who wanted to protect me!
part of me is scared of him showing up because i’m getting told about how violent he is and how he hates people so intensely for nothing and how far he’ll go to hurt them. but part of me is like - i don’t know how much of that is true! you guys originally told me he was cut off for being gay!
i’ve been doing little things like making all of my facebook posts public instead of friends only so if he’s looking he can see how i’m doing and what i look like. my family thinks he does look because sometimes they’ll get anonymous messages like after my parents divorced my mum would get messages acknowledging it and asking how she was doing and why it happened and she very strongly felt it was J kind of angling for Dirt On Dad™️. my dad thinks he reacted to one of his posts with an emoji once? it was like a laughing emoji on one of my dad’s wedding pictures LMAO so dude definitely still hates my dad.
but idk like. i’m not hidden yknow. he could’ve reached out. but maybe he thinks he’s not wanted because of my dad being there. raaargh.
i’ve been thinking about taking a dna test and seeing if he shows up. if he’s in the legal system he should be right?? but i don’t know how much that will help me with figuring out where he is now. like do i just. wait for my dad to pass away before i try to avoid crossing his boundaries 😭 he’s 73
tl;dr wibta if i went behind my dad’s back to try to find my potentially dangerous brother who seems to really want to put my dad in a paper shredder
What are these acronyms?
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wooawi · 1 month
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Nino helps Adrien realise his father is abusive but not on purpose. It’s little things here and there.
After Adrien eats dinner with Nino’s family one time, Nino’s mother sends Nino to school from henceforth with an extra lunch. When Adrien is met with this and asks Nino why, well, Nino just shrugs and says he doesn’t think it’s healthy to eat so little.
Adrien’s locked up in his room again, nothing out of the ordinary. Then he gets a text from Nino asking where he is and explains the whole thing to the boy.
Nino replies with “Dude. That’s shitty. You should be able to hang out with your friends if you want to,” before the two spend the rest of the day texting back and forth.
Adrien drops an offhand comment about how he doesn’t really like his extra activities. They’re all too competition based and he’d much rather do them for fun, as a way to connect with others because he wants to, not because he has to. Nino asks him why he doesn’t just quit then and Adrien says because his father won’t let him.
Nino shakes his head. “My uncle loves football. He put me in this youth group for it when I was younger but I hated it. Felt like a chore to be honest. Told him about it and he let me quit and focus on what I wanted to do instead. Wish your dad was the same.”
Adrien shares that he doesn’t know what he wants to do when he grows up. That he doesn’t think he has a choice in the matter. It doesn’t matter anyway, he’s never thought about it before and he just won’t think about it now. Nino raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything.
Later on, Adrien gets a list of careers and hobbies from Nino he could look at, complete with notes and comments about what each one entails. Adrien shows interest in video games and writing. Nino mentions he could set up a meeting with his mum, a developer.
When Adrien wonders why he’s not planning to be a developer too, Nino replies, “Well, maman knows I’m not much for video games. That’s more Marinette’s thing.”
Eventually, Adrien gets the idea that a parent is supposed to be more like Nino’s mother and uncle rather than his father. It’s subconscious, but it’s there, and it helps Adrien realise a lot more serious issues within his own family.
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squirmhoney · 1 year
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Dependency Issues - Part Seven
A/N: so I did use the surname Velaryon in this but to me I would still have Laenor as the person as the primary dad figure even if he isn’t their biological dad. So still up to you decide with that one. Warnings: Dark. Non Con. Dub Con. Somnophilia. Incest. Manipulation. Coercive behaviour (at times) Full on smut. Dependency Issues. (like reader has some serious issues when it comes to Aegon) Unhealthy relationship. Mean and aggressive Aegon. Angst ( A lot in this chapter). 18+ Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x Niece!Reader (Rhaeneyra mother and non specified father) Word Count: 4K
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Master list Part Six Part Eight
Thing hadn't gotten any better.
Eventually you realised it wasn't just Aegon and your feelings for him, there was something wrong with you. And a trip to a doctors put everything into perspective.
"I've just sent the tests off," Dr. Heyward came back into the room, taking a seat opposite you. "And I did have some more questions to ask while the nurse finalises everything, is that okay?"
You gave her a small smile and nodded. "Of course."
"When was your last period?" She asked.
"Ummm," you started, taken a back by the question. You tried to rack your brain but all you did was stumble on your words. "I don't remember honestly."
"Right," she gave you a reassuring smile, her voice calm and gentle as she continued. "And you were experiencing mood swings."
"Yes." You were nodding again, fingers fiddling with each other in your lap.
"Have you been having any unprotected sex lately?"
A tear slipped down your face, realisation hitting you finally. You let out a deep sigh, "Yes, I have."
There was a moment where you felt trapped in your head, unable to communicate how you were feeling. You didn't even hear the nurse come in or what she said to the doctor, too lost in the thoughts swarming around your head.
"Miss Velaryon?" The doctor asked, grabbing your attention.
"Yeah."
You looked up only to see the knowing look in her eye.
"The tests have come back and you're pregnant," she told you, moving her chair to sit closer to you. Her hand rested on top of yours, bringing you out of your thoughts. "You're still young and I know this can be scary for some. But there are options available."
"Right."
"But from the symptoms you're showing, I think you might be in or hitting your second trimester already..."
You felt yourself flushed, not taking anything in as she bombarded you with information. By the time you had gotten out of there you had a handbag full of leaflets that you ended dumping out into the first bin you saw.
You were in complete denial, trying to push this to the back of your mind. But it was real and it was happening, meaning you needed to do something about it.
You just didn’t know what yet.
-
"How was it?" Your mother asked as soon as you got through the front door.
"Turns out I have a stomach infection," you told her, sounding relieved. "I got prescribed some anti biotics and I've just been told to rest for the rest of the week."
"That's good to hear," she gave you a small smile, placing a soft kiss on your cheek. "How about you go up to bed and I'll make you something to eat?"
"That would be great," you said, biting down to keep your emotions at bay. "Thanks, mum."
You could barely look at her when you walked up the stairs, biting on your lip so hard you drew blood.
Once you reached your room, you collapsed onto your bed. You didn't even know how you had the energy to cry still, that's all you had been doing over the last few weeks. But now everything was starting to make sense, like the pieces had finally been pushed back together again.
Your mood swings constantly being whack, the sickness you had been feeling all the time and the fact some of your tighter clothes weren't fitting anymore. You were sure if you looked in the mirror you'd notice your stomach had formed into a small bump, you could feel it under your hands as you laid down on your back. But you just didn't think you could face that fact at the moment.
All you could think was how could you have been so wreckless, so thoughtless in all this. With everything that went on between you and Aegon neither of you even took a moment to think about the risks of what you were doing. How it could all lead to this.
You wanted to blame Aegon, how you were so lost in your emotions with him you hadn’t even thought about the risks. You hadn’t even taken a second to contemplate them. But you had a piece to play in this and it wouldn’t be fair for you take it all out on him.
You didn't know what to do. All you did know was you wanted it to be you that decided what happened.
If you told your mother, you knew how she would feel. A lot would have to come out that you weren't ready for. Also with the way she had been acting recently you couldn't promise yourself that she wouldn't force you to terminate your pregnancy.
You didn't want to think that but with her so bound to keep you away from Aegon, you knew there might be lines she was willing to cross.
And at the end of the day you didn't know what you wanted. You love kids, you always have but did you want one at nineteen?
Before you knew your hand reached for your phone, searching through your contacts. As the phone rang, you tried to steady your breathing, hoping that the other person would pick up.
"Hello," a soft voice spoke through the phone.
"Hi, it's me," you rambled, voice strained as you spoke. "You probably don't know why I'm calling. It's just I didn't know who else to call."
"Actually I think I do know why you're calling," the voice replied.
"You do?" You pushed your lips together, trying to force the tears away.
"Yes and it's okay. Of course I’ll help you."
-
You felt terrible as you stepped out of your house in the late hours, taking a suitcase packed with as much stuff as you could. Luckily everyone was asleep by the time you left the doors, making it easier for you to sneak out unnoticed.
A car was parked around the corner, the engine still running meaning you knew it was for you.
But when the door opened, you didn't expect Aemond to walk out ready to help you with your suitcase.
"Where's your mum?" You instantly asked, face dropping at the sight of him.
Aemond put his hands up in defence, offering you a small smile. "All she told me was to come and get you and to say nothing about it to anyone."
"You know that means you can't tell Jace or Luke," you told him, handing him your suitcase.
"I won't tell them," Aemond stated, placing your stuff in the boot of the car. "Don't worry."
"Thanks," you replied, feeling slightly more at ease.
The drive was filled with music, radio noise to fill the awkward air. You could tell Aemond was dying to ask a question but you really weren't in the mood to tell him. There was someone you needed to build the courage to tell first before you could tell anyone else.
"Does Aegon know you're staying with us?" Aemond asked, eyes peering over to you for a second.
"Why would he?" You retorted back, crossing your arms over your chest.
"Well if not for the fact that you and Aegon have been the closest people in the family since I can remember," he said, making you feel slightly stupid. "Then maybe because of what's been going on between you two."
"Right," you whispered, not wanting to think about that right now.
Did everyone seriously see what was going on?
"I'm guessing Jace told you." You couldn't look at him, only staring out the window as you spoke.
"No," Aemond was shaking his head, a smirk dancing on his lips. "I think anyone can see it in the way Aegon looks at you. Completely obsessed with you."
"It's not like that."
"You don't have to lie to me," Aemond chuckled, finally parking up in the drive way. "But I do think it's different for you and Aegon. While you seem sweet and kind to him, he seems like someone that would pressure you into things. His obsession is twisted, he's always been a sick man."
"You shouldn't talk about your brother like that," you were quick to say, hopping out of the car on first chance. You went to the boot, being followed by Aemond.
"Eager to defend him as always," Aemond tutted, stepping round the car. He passed you your suitcase, hand lingering a little too long for what felt comfortable for you. "He's not in the house at the moment so you don't have to worry about that."
"Spare room made up for me, right?" You asked, stepping away from the house.
"Yeah," Aemond nodded, following you to the door. "Mum is asleep but I'm sure she'll come see you in the morning."
"Of course."
You were quick to drag your suitcase up the stairs, being as quiet as you could as you made it to the spare room.
The sheets were all made up and there was a pack of your favourite cookies on the bed side table. You smiled at that before finally changing into some pyjamas.
Underneath the sheets, you didn't find as much comfort as you hoped. You wriggled around for what felt too long and you couldn't help but rub your hand across your stomach. Every time you felt the bump, your stomach stirred with unease but a bit of something else too. Something you couldn't quite pin point.
It wasn't long before you found yourself sneaking into Aegon's room, knowing the route like the back of your hand. You were glad he was out, grabbing a t-shirt of his without a thought. And by the time you crept back into your room, his top in your hand, you heard the front door opening again.
You could hear his heavy foot steps, your breath catching in your throat as you heard him stumble up the stairs. You knew it wasn't a good idea to let him see you, knowing that he was probably wasted out of his mind.
But you wanted to see him so bad.
Your phone rang and you weren't surprised to see Aegon's face light up the screen. What you were surprised about was how quickly you answered it.
"Hello," you whispered, not wanting him to hear you from the other room.
"Y/N," Aegon let out between a chocked cry, not expecting for you to answer either.
"Hey," it's all you could think of to say, knowing what you wanted to say wouldn't be good for him now.
"I need to see you," he sobbed, making your heart twist at the confession. "Like I really need to see you."
"I know-"
"No, you don't get it," he was a mess on the phone, hardly making sense as he spoke.
"How about I see you tomorrow?" You asked, trying to calm him down. "If I promise to see you tomorrow, will that make you feel better."
"But will you really see me tomorrow?"
"If that's what you need."
He let out a harsh breath, contemplating what you were saying.
"Breathe Aegon, I'll be there," you promised, tears brimming you eyes now. "Just breath for me."
And that's all he needed to hear the softness of your angelic voice to lull him to sleep.
-
The kitchen felt stuffy, not making your morning sickness any better. You didn't know if it was the cooking or the cold stare you felt digging into your back as Aemond walked into the room. But it was making you feel flushed and even Helaena's warm embrace from behind didn't make you feel any better.
You could feel his eyes digging into you as he drank his morning coffee, eyeing you up as if he was trying to study you. Your presence felt not unwelcome but rather like it was unsettling for the house. And you had yet to see Aegon.
"How long will you be staying with us?" Aemond asked, finally breaking his gaze.
"Until she wants to leave," Alicent quickly saved you, stepping into the kitchen. Her hand landed on your back, giving your shoulder a little squeeze.
After your conversation with her this morning, you felt more ease, even supported. You knew this whole situation wouldn't be easy but to feel like you had someone in your corner, ready to support you in any decision you made, made everything ten times better. And you think your over emotional reaction really showed her that last night.
"Good morning."
The voice hit the back of your neck, hairs standing up as heavy footsteps walked into the room. Your head turned, the air catching in your throat when your eyes fell upon Aegon.
"We should talk," you said, jumping of the chair you were on.
You didn't give him a second to think and by the look on his face, so taken back by your presence, he probably wasn't doing much thinking. Your hand grabbed his, pulling him to follow you out of the room.
Of course, Aegon takes the opportunity to link your fingers with his, getting more comfortable than you wanted to allow him. You almost felt bad when you took your hand from his, putting distance between you as you reached the living room.
"How do you feel?" You asked, taking a seat on the couch.
"Better that your here," he said, taking a seat next to you. His hands tried to take yours but you pushed them away.
"Aegon." You put your hands up, taking them away from Aegon.
If anyone could read you, it was Aegon. He could see the strain in your face and the tension in your jaw. The shallow breaths you were taking, you were on edge and he believed it to be his fault.
"I'm sorry," Aegon said, voice cracking. "All I can do is show you that I'm sorry." His face was deflated, eyes becoming watery.
A fuse went off at the sight of him, anger flaring at your stomach at how he easily he could bring the water works on. If anyone should be upset, it should be you.
But for now you'd push your anger aside, ignoring the feelings you had for him.
"It's not that," you told him, shaking your head. You fiddled with your hands in your lap, nail digging into the skin there.
"I hate us not being together, it's eating me inside," he started to ramble, not really listening to what you were trying to say. "And I feel like I get mixed signals with you..."
You thought you could tell him you were pregnant and he still wouldn't hear you, too lost in his own emotions.
"Im pregnant."
The silence that followed the statement was painful. Your voice was barely above a whisper and you really hadn't even expected him to hear you above what he was saying. Your stomach felt tense and you could barely look at him, knowing that it needed to come out sooner rather than later.
But like that?
"I'm at least twelve weeks," you let out in a shaky breath, a hand reaching over your stomach. "And I'm not sure what I want to do yet. But all I know is I want it to be my decision."
Aegon reached for you again but you moved back, finally looking up at him.
"Don't," you snapped, covering your face with your hands. You could feel the tears hitting the back of your throat. "I'm staying here for the time being but that doesn't mean we are okay. It just means-" you took a second to catch your breath "It just means that I can't go back to my house until I'm certain on what I want to do and-"
His arms wrapped around you, pulling your face towards his chest and as much as you knew you should pull away, you couldn't bring yourself to do it. This is what you had wanted for weeks, the comfort of his arms and his soft voice telling you everything would be okay. There just wasn't any piece of you that wanted to push him away, instead you sunk further into his touch.
"I need you to support me on this," you words were choked up, slightly muffled into his chest.
"It's okay baby," he cooed, hand rubbing your back as you clung to him.
You eventually pulled away from him, emotions calming down finally. While your breathing was still shallow, you felt like you could speak and that's all you really needed to do.
"We need to set some boundaries," you whispered not honestly sure how he would take it. "I will be staying in the spare room and we can't- you know what I mean."
His fingers wiped at your cheeks, giving you a small nod as if he was listening to you.
"I also have a scan today and I'd like you to come."
"I'll be there," he was quick to tell you, head leaning into rest against yours.
"This is not happening," you pushed him away, trying to put that distance back there. "Boundaries."
"Boundaries," he repeated, "Got it."
-
Aegon didn't know boundaries when it came to you.
His arm wrapped around you as he guided you through the maternity ward, hand rubbing your sides. While you wanted to push him away and remind him of your previous conversation, you really didn't want to make a scene. And with Alicent taking a step back, letting Aegon step up, it meant she wasn't there to stop him either.
Honestly you couldn't deny how good it felt, people smiling at you as if you were a couple. You felt some what free, an almost blissful feeling as Aegon held your hand in the patient's room.
"And right there that's the baby," the midwife said, pointing at the monitor. She rolled the probe and you could hear a sudden study thump. "And that's the heartbeat."
A wide smell spread on your face, eyes becoming glassy as you stared. You couldn't take your eyes off the monitor, a little bit of realisation dawning on you that there was a baby growing inside of you.
"It looks to me like you have one healthy baby," the midwife's voice was enthusiastic, filling you with a certain joy that you weren't sure that Aegon shared. "And from what I can see you are thirteen weeks along."
You felt Aegon squeeze your hand and your attention was brought back to him. He gave you a soft smile, reaching down to press a peck to your lips. You kissed back, for a second, allowing yourself to bask in the happy moment instead of shy away from it.
When Aegon leaned back, you both knew you had made your decision and to reassure you, he pressed his lips to the back of your hand.
"It's okay," he muttered into your skin, "We will be okay."
-
Your mother had came by during your scan and luck finally being on your side, Alicent was able to convince her you weren't there. But that didn't mean you'd be able to hide from her forever. Because as much as you had you had tried to convince her over the phone that you needed space, you knew she'd be still searching the ends of the world to find you. That's the type of mother she was.
You were just glad to be away from it all, finding peace for once.
Sleep was easier to find you that night, after having what felt like a good day, and being wrapped up in Aegon's top underneath your sheets, you found peace.
As much as you wanted to stay in Aegon's arms forever, you had set the boundaries for a reason, knowing you and him had serious issues to work on. Not only that but your relationship still may not even be able to workout, seeing as you were still related. That issue wasn’t ever going to go away. But he was still surprised to find you pushing him away at the end of the night, reminding him of that one word, boundaries.
Boundaries, the word ran through Aegon's head hours into the night.
While he was shocked to see you push him away before bed, he had still been anticipating it. And if Aegon knew one thing from that day it was to take precautions when you needed it.
And he had slipped the best precaution of all into your drink an hour earlier, making sure you'd be passed out for the rest of the night. Aegon wasn't stupid, he had checked to see how safe it was for pregnant women, knowing he couldn't risk anything with you in your condition. While Aegon never really wanted children, definitely not at his age, he could see how it had all worked in his favour. And with the way he planned to fuck you in the future, he was sure you'd be having a house filled with children before you both hit thirty.
He also couldn't deny the way his cock twitched at the thought of you swelling with his child. He just knew it was going to be impossible to hide his desires for you over the next few months and if he couldn't convince you to let him fuck you, he'd figure other ways to take what he wanted- what he needed from you. He'd convince you eventually, he knew that.
But for now he was happy to creep into your room in the middle of the night, taking what he believed was rightfully his.
Your chest rose slowly up and down with your even breaths, drawing attention to the way his top clung to your growing breasts. He knew there'd be a time where they wouldn't fit you and not having the comfort of his clothes would mean you'd be crawling back to him in no time.
The door was locked behind him as he entered and the bed side light turned on so he could admire your beautiful form. You were a sight to be hold as he lifted his top off your body, gaze falling on the slight roundness of your stomach. He couldn't help but grin against your skin as he leaned down, pressing soft kisses to your stomach. A swell of pride filled his stomach, knowing that he was the one that had got you this way.
"My pretty fucking girl," he hummed, kissing a trail up your stomach. He noted the way your nipples pebbled in the cool air, fingers pinching at them gently. If there was one thing about Aegon, was the fact he knew what made you squirm during sex even in your sleep he knew how to make you wet. "All mine."
His hand reached down between your thighs, pushing them apart as his hand found it's way underneath your underwear. There was a pool there, his fingers slipping easily inside of you making him groan.
"How can you tell me you don't want this?" Aegon whispered even though he knew you couldn't hear him. His fingers continued to massage your walls, chuckling as your hips bucked up slightly. "Even needy for me when you're passed out."
Aegon was growing impatient, his cock straining in his pants at the thought of being inside you. It was a primal need for him and he couldn't help himself as he tore the underwear off your body, shoving his own to his knees. He pushed himself in you with one thrust, grinding down on his teeth to bite back the moan at the back of his throat.
His hips rolled up into yours as he rutted into you, trying to keep a slow pace. He wanted to saviour the moment, just enjoying how your walls engulfed him with complete acceptance but as soon as a breathy moan escaped your lips, he lost all control, snapping his hips hard into yours.
"It's like you were made for me." Aegon pressed the most gentlest of kisses to your lips before folding your legs in-between you. He wished you were awake to tell you these things, for you to know how much he adored you but for now this would have to do.
-
Aegon hadn't expected to have anyone up at this hour but of course one of his younger brothers had to be lurking around, catching him leaving your room.
He had made sure to clean you up once he was done, making sure to learn from his past mistakes of not leaving his mark all over you. Even though he really wanted to. But he didn't need you suspecting him of anything, especially when he really needed to work into your good books. So his younger brother being the one to catch him leaving your room, wasn't a good thing.
Aegon rolled his eyes at Aemond's presence, closing your door softly behind him.
"I thought she set boundaries with you?" Aemond asked, tilting his head to the side. "Or was I just hearing wrong?"
"I think you should keep your nose out of my business," Aegon scoffed, glaring at his brother.
"I think she's too good for you."
"Everyone thinks that," Aegon chuckled humourlessly, "It doesn't change the fact that she's carrying my baby."
-
Tag list: @leia-isabell @ophelialaufey @okfashionista @sydneyyyya @minami97 @winxschester @blccdofthedragoncn @horcruxion @fullmoonworshipper @elliotgrihaultgf
Bold is people I couldn't tag. If people want to be tagged in this series I'm happy to take 5 more people just reply to this.
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loganlermanstanaccount · 10 months
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I love your most recent Miguel fic! I do have a question tho for my hearts sake? Is Miguel actually fucking all those girls? Idk why but I don’t think I could ever look past someone doing that in my vicinity and then seeing potential romantic relationships with them… like I wouldn’t be able to look past how infatuated he seems with all of them in the moment and it would be hard not to compre myself to the tule of girl he brings in, my trust issues would be BUZZZIN lol.
If so, could I ask what made you characterize him as such? Was it like more a trope that caught your attention so you decided to explore it? Or does he really seem like the type to you? All are very genuine and curious questions by the way I love love your writing it’s incredible💕
Hey, happy to answer the question, so I'll spoil under the cut!
short answer: yes and no
long answer: he has a history of sleeping around, but isn't actively sleeping with them.
I do think this version of Miguel (combo of film and comics) sleeps around but not necessarily for the sake of it. his daughter died 3 years ago, a daughter he had young already, so he is emotionally stunted, and unable to deal with his loss. he's searching for intimacy and unable to commit due to both his grief and family history. I'm writing him loosely along the lines of comic Miguel's backstory: abusive (non-bio) dad, conchata's (his mum) behaviour towards that etc, etc - and how he's felt duty to take care of the people around him, and failed twice, in his eyes (his family, and then gabi).
it's more of a ploy to get reader riled up and potentially out of the house. I've attempted to set up that reader is very passive and avoidant, even when things go wrong around the house, so he is essentially escalating to see when she'll snap and react - bro is a scientist and is experimenting lmfao. the people he's faking sleeping around with he has slept with in the past / has a friendship with so they kinda go along with it cuz a) they think it's harmless and b) let him get away with it cuz he's had a rough few years. Reader is also an unreliable narrator: a lot of aggression and situations are exaggerated / perceived wrong; which also infuriates Miguel to no end, hence why he keeps escalating. this is still kind of insane, but it's a fic so who cares lmfao
I'm also trying to establish a reluctance to commit with reader due to last relationships - which us why they will (eventually) fall into a fwb situation. and then all the emotions and insecurity (on both ends) as y'all pretend the relationship is surface level.
anyways this is a long ass way to say people grieve in different ways, he hasn't really worked through his baggage, and it's affecting how he interacts with other people. I understand the emotional implications and there's no way in hell that I personally cld be with a straight up fuckboy - which is why I'm writing him more complicated than that.
thank you for the question anon and i hope this isn't too boring 😭
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33max · 6 months
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just a turkey dinosaurs halloween mini fic, 1409 words
Daniel is not usually the most organised person, actually, he’s pretty sure nobody would ever use that word to describe him. He forgets to send birthday cards to his sister sometimes. Only remembers on her actual birthday and then it’s too late to send a card all the way to Perth.
But he is organised for Halloween this year.
It’s the first Halloween that Max will be regressed for. They’ve planned it out and Daniel can tell that Max is excited for his younger self to have this experience.
Daniel doesn’t know if Max really celebrated Halloween as a child, if he was allowed to dress up, eat too much candy, or even answer the door to trick or treaters. Max has never really said much about it, the only stories Max tells him about Halloween are the drunken shenanigans that he and Martin got up to at parties back in Amsterdam.
Anyway, Daniel wants to make little Max’s first Halloween very special.
It’s absolutely no surprise to Daniel when Max tells him he wants to be a dinosaur. Really, he shouldn’t have expected anything else.
“What kind of dinosaur?” Daniel had asked, determined to get Max a costume he loves.
“Big leafy boy, like Soup!” Max had blurted out with such excitement that his hands started flapping. It makes Daniel’s heart swell when Max is this happy about something. Soup is one of Max’s favourite plushies, he’s a large blue brontosaurus with an apparently mischievous personality and loves eating their house plants.
The problem Daniel has is that Max is fussy with clothes. He doesn’t like scratchy things. He doesn’t like when the clothes touch him wrong. So Daniel needs to find the perfect Brontosaurus costume that is very soft and doesn’t trigger Max’s sensory issues.
It’s a good job he is organised because it turns out that is quite a feat.
He doesn’t think Max will tolerate an inflatable costume, so he rules that out straight away. Even though Max would look adorable in it.
He looks through what feels like thousands of dinosaur costumes for adults determined to find the best one.
Eventually, he narrows it down to five and buys them all. Max can have options.
—————-
To Michael Italiano Staliano & Bradley Scanes PT Are you guys busy on halloween?
From Bradley Scanes PT I’m free, little one is at her mums
From Michael Italiano Staliano I can be free, you having a party?
To Michael Italiano Staliano & Bradley Scanes PT Not a party but doing something for the little guy. You in?
From Bradley Scanes PT Sounds good I’ll be there mate
From Michael Italiano Staliano I’m in. Looking for a costume already lol
To Michael Italiano Staliano & Bradley Scanes PT No zombies pls lol he’s scared of them
From Bradley Scanes PT
Is that why he never plays zombies on COD 😂😂😂😂
—————
Max drops voluntarily on Halloween morning so he can spend the whole day doing Halloween activities with Daniel.
They bake cookies, watch what Max thinks are really scary movies, carve a pumpkin, and even decorate the apartment.
Eventually, when it’s getting later in the afternoon and the sun is beginning to set they try on the many costumes that Daniel had bought.
The first one is an instant no as the head hole is too tight around Max’s ears and he doesn’t like it. He pulls it off so quickly that he almost falls, Daniel having to steady him.
The second and third are declared scratchy, which means Max doesn’t like the way they feel against his skin. That’s not too surprising really, Max is very particular with how his clothes feel.
The fourth is apparently not the right colour so Max refuses to try it on, insisting that Soup is blue and not green so Max must also be a blue dinosaur. Fair enough, Daniel supposes.
“How is that?” Daniel asks Max, tugging the tail of the last Brontosaurus costume into position. “Does that feel comfortable?”
Max’s face is flushed and peeking out from the base of the long necked dinosaur. The hood of this costume is like a plushie, a pillow filled dinosaur neck and head standing tall on Max’s head. It’s so tall that Max is going to have to duck through the doorways in their apartment, but Max has assured Daniel that an actual dinosaur would have to duck too. Obviously.
Max wiggles from side to side, unsure. This is the fifth costume he has tried on and Daniel can see he is getting a little bit frazzled and flustered with it all. He just hopes this last one will be okay for Max.
He’s got a soft t-shirt on underneath the costume to hopefully stop any sensory issues with it touching his shoulders and chest.
“It’s okay,” Max says, and Daniel isn’t one hundred percent sure if Max is just saying that because he desperately wants to be a dinosaur, or if it is actually okay. But he does trust that Max will tell him if it gets too much.
“Alright,” Daniel says, if Max gets half way through the night and needs to take it off that is fine. Daniel bought plenty of spooky pyjamas from a brand he knows Max likes and they can always swap to those. “Give me a roar then!”
“Grrrrrrr,” Max says so softly, it’s not intimidating at all. It’s actually one of the cutest things Daniel has ever heard.
———
There is a knock on the door at around 6pm. Max has his dinosaur costume on and Daniel is dressed up as Alan Grant from Jurassic Park, hat and all. He wanted to match his boy somehow and he figured he had half of the things for this outfit anyway.
“I wonder who that is,” Daniel says to Maxy, “Do you want to answer?”
Max shakes his head, suddenly nervous. “Together?”
Daniel holds Max’s hand as they walk to the door, giving it a gentle reassuring squeeze as Max pulls on the handle to open it.
“Trick or treat!!” Michael shouts. He’s wearing one of the most ridiculous costumes that Daniel has ever seen.
“Mikey!” Max is looking up at him in awe. “You’re a turkey dinosaur!”
“Just don’t eat me, Maxy!” Michael says as he makes his way into the apartment. His bizarre costume only just making it through the door. Daniel is going to have to ask him where on earth he bought it later.
“I won’t,” Max tells him solemnly, “I only eat leaves don’t worry.”
Daniel can’t help the laughter that bursts out of him, Max is so unintentionally funny. He doesn’t even realise it.
Max takes Michael’s hand and leads him towards the kitchen, chatting away about the cookies that he made and the pumpkin that he carved. Desperate to show Michael his creations.
Daniel makes to follow them, but then the door knocks again.
“Daddy get it!” Max shouts from the kitchen. “I’m showing Mikey my pumpkin!”
When Daniel swings the door open Captain America is stood on the other side. Brad looks quite the part, holding his shield in a power pose.
“What are you supposed to be?” Brad asks him when he realises that it’s Daniel opening the door and not Max.
“I’m Alan Grant,” Daniel says, and then adds “My dinosaur is in the kitchen.”
“Is the dinosaur having a good Halloween?” Brad asks as he makes his way into the apartment.
Before Daniel can answer Max comes charging through from the kitchen, tail wiggling from left to right as he runs. He almost barrels into Brad who only just moves his shield out of the way in time to wrap Max in a hug.
“Brad!” He squeaks, “you’re here!”
The evening goes much better than Daniel could have even imagined. He is so glad that he invited Michael and Brad, it’s important that Max gets to spend time with people who love him for who he authentically is.
Max even gets to do some trick or treating when Michael and Brad stand behind some of the doors in the apartment and hand out candy. It’s a little ridiculous, but Max loves it. The sound of his happy giggle filling their apartment makes Daniel’s heart swell with love.
Seeing a huge smile on Max’s face will always make Daniel’s day, but today in particular he’s so glad he could give Max a happy Halloween with his favourite people around.
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halfadoginatank · 5 months
Text
Simon and his father take a trip to the Scottish highlands for the summer, he knows only one of them will leave.
Johnny is a boy obsessed with filming explosions from fireworks he's not supposed to have.
Los Vaqueros are a group of Mexican teens derailed from their field trip waiting for teachers that might not come back.
Huge lore and plot dump below.
Mild tw for Simons father
Simons father has always taken him on hunting trips, sometimes he hated them, some times he liked them. But he'd never taken him this far from manchester. There are weapons in the cabin they rent, his father is eerily sober, one of them is going to die out here. Simon can only hope that Tommy won't be next.
Johnny meets him when he strays too far from his father. Part of it on purpose, he would never be on equal footing, more so when his father had the rifle and not him. He's in the tree's, at first simon thinks its prey, but there's a camera lense staring right at his scope.
Los Vaqueros come later, the leader arguing with a girl with choppy hair, Valeria and Alejandro trade glares while Rodolfo tries to mediate. Their bus broke down, leaving them stuck in town desperately renting a cabin near but far from the one simon is in.
It's the most interesting thing thats happened to johnny, and in the makeshift bonfire Valeria corners him and Simon. Her gaze is snakelike and a ring clinks on the bottle she's holding
"You say that he's an asshole yes? Your padre. Mine was the same, en mi opinión? It is kill or be killed."
Valeria nods at Alejandro, she tells them of a faceless force where she's from. The person sponsoring the trip for them, 'good will'. The five of them band together, the rest of the Vaqueros utterly ignorant.
Simon will save his family, Alejandro will get them home, and johnny? He's going to make the best home video.
-
Yeah so thats the whole plot, originally it was just going to be ghoap but somehow the Vaqueros fell into place. It kind of made more sense to have Valeria give them the idea? She doesnt have a whole bunch of canon lore so I figured she'd have an in with the cartel via her father, who was awful. And when Valeria killed him the nameless helped her cover it up and she got her own little spot.
Alejandro broke off their relationship after that, it's why they're on bad terms. He formed the Vaqueros as a funny joke that he started to take seriously when kids around Las Almas genuinely needed help that wasnt someway connected to the cartel, adults had that with rudys mother, so Ale and his childhood friend Rudy decided to help people their age in a way that doesn't rely on adults too much.
Everyone here is about 16-18. Soap is 17, ghost is as well but a few months older. Rudy Alejandro and Valeria are 18. And the youngest cowboy is 16.
Im trying to fit Gaz and Alex in? Im thinking that they both live in Texas, Gazs parents had a falling out since mum was from Texas hes there. Their school is on the same trip in the same bus a sort of cross trip to help the shitty american public school get a better name, as well as the cartels big PR move with having a class from one of Las Almas' schools.
Johnny is a bit weird here, but his motivation is he's suffering from extreme middle kid issues. Loves his family but since he's almost invisible is able to just kinda run off as long as hes back home eventually. He has a camera he uses to film any of his mishaps with, its essentially just jackass. As well as a video diary. Dont be fooled, its also an excuse for me to write some of it in script like format.
Simon is almost exactly the same as he is in the 09 comics, obviously a bit different. But childhood is the same.
I wanted farah to be here so bad but her childhood is literally a warzone and theres no way I can get her and her brother in Scotland. Because im trying so hard to make this somewhat believable, like yes its is a summer mystery horror au. But god I just really need things to make a little sense otherwise I cant do it. Same with Price Nik and Laswell. Like I could group Laswell in with Alex and gaz, and maybe I could pair her with Valeria for funsies. However Nikolai is in russia so... oopsie, and price? Like... how do you turn price into a teenager, he'd be what 19 or 20? Theres no reason he'd be in school, I dont think he'd be held back.
Also you may wonder, why is graves not here? Uh.... because I dont care, he wouldn't have a place here. The antagonist is Simons father, and honestly man? I just dont care that much for his character.
Man theres... theres so much I have here dude, I want to throw roach in there, and I THINK I could squeeze him in as one of ghosts school mates but the point is the first act has Simon completely isolated.
Anyway thats it. Bye.
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