#screamed and cried into my room at midnight | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sadnymi · 15 days

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「 ✦ Loml ✦ 」

[Mattheo riddle × reader] [TTPD Masterlist]

Summary: You and Mattheo share a legendary love, the kind that makes you leave everything behind without regrets—your life, your friends, even your family. You're dead to them now, because how dare you be with the son of Voldemort? Everything seemed perfect until last night, when Mattheo didn't come home. When he finally did, you knew something terrible was about to happen.

Warnings: Angst , Angst , Angst ( you have been warned), smut , unprotected sex, strong language.

Words:4k

Mattheo didn’t come home last night, and I was losing my mind, worried sick about him. The hours dragged on, each minute a relentless torture of anxiety and fear. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. Every creak of the house made my heart leap with hope, only to be disappointed each time. Where was he? What had happened?

It was well past midnight when I finally heard the front door creak open. my heart leaped into my throat. Relief washed over me, followed swiftly by a wave of emotions—anger, concern, love. Before I could say anything, he was there, his lips crashing onto mine in a desperate, hungry kiss.

“Mattheo,” I whispered against his mouth, but he silenced me with another kiss, more demanding this time. His hands roamed my body, pulling me closer as if he needed to reassure himself that I was real, that I was here.

"Mattheo, what's going on?" I tried to ask, but he silenced me with another fierce kiss, his fingers gripping my hips tightly.

"Mattheo," I whispered, cupping his cheek. "Talk to me. What's wrong?"

He shook his head slightly, his expression pained but determined. "Just let me have this." he said softly, his voice cracking.

I nodded and opened my mouth trying to ask him what was bothering him but my words were cut off as he bent me over, his fingers curling around the waistband of my pants, yanking them down. His breath was hot against my neck

He thrust into me hard and fast, the intensity of his movements leaving me breathless. I could tell something was off, but the way he was taking me left no room for questions. He was usually vocal, but now, he was almost eerily silent, his focus solely on the act itself.

“Did something happen baby?” I managed to gasp out between thrusts, my hands gripping the sheets.

He didn’t answer, just increased his pace, the sound of our bodies colliding filling the room. The roughness of his touch, the ferocity of his rhythm—it was as if he was trying to drown out whatever was haunting him.

I could feel my orgasm building, the pressure inside me reaching a breaking point. “Mattheo, I’m gonna—”

My scream echoed through the room as I came, my body trembling with the force of it. He followed moments later, his release silent but powerful, his grip on me tightening as he shuddered against my back.

He pulled out and turned me around, lifting me onto the bed with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with the roughness from before. His eyes were dark, filled with something I couldn’t quite place.

He kissed me softly, trailing down my body until his mouth was between my thighs. He licked and sucked, his tongue working magic as he brought me to another orgasm, my cries of pleasure mingling with his soft kisses.

When he was done, he moved back up, his lips brushing against every inch of my skin, his hands caressing me as if committing every curve to memory. He entered me again, this time slow and gentle, his eyes locked onto mine.

He held my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had formed. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“I love you too,” I replied, my heart aching with the intensity of my feelings.

He moved within me with deliberate slowness, each thrust a silent promise. I wrapped my arms around him, clinging to him as if he might disappear at any moment. We reached our climax together, the wave of pleasure washing over us in perfect sync.

“Are you okay?” I asked softly when we were done, my head resting on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. He didn’t answer, just held me tighter, his arms a protective cocoon around me. There was something in his silence, something heavy and unspoken.

“Mattheo,” I whispered again, but he simply kissed my forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than usual.

I wanted to push, to demand answers, but exhaustion overtook me. I fell asleep in his arms, my last conscious thought a prayer that whatever was haunting him, we would face it together.

The next morning, I woke up to find the space beside me empty. My heart sank, the unease from the night before creeping back in. I slipped out of bed and padded across the room, spotting Mattheo on the balcony. He was leaning against the railing, a cigarette in his hand, the early morning light casting a soft glow on his features.

I walked up to him, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. "Good morning," I murmured, wrapping my arms around him from behind and resting my head on his back. He didn't respond, just took another drag of his cigarette, the smoke curling upwards into the crisp air.

"Mattheo," I started, my voice tentative, "please talk to me. What's going on?"

Silence.

I tightened my arms around him slightly, trying to convey my concern and love through the embrace. "You were so distant last night. You scared me. I need to know what's bothering you."

Still, no answer.

"Is it something I did? Something that happened? Please, Mattheo, just tell me. We can face it together."

He remained quiet, staring out into the distance, his body tense against mine.

"Mattheo, please don't shut me out."

He took another slow drag, exhaling the smoke with a sigh, but said nothing. I could feel the wall between us, thicker than ever, and it broke my heart.

"Do you not trust me?" I asked, my voice cracking with emotion. "You said you love me, and I believe you. But if you don't let me in, how can fix whatever is bothering you now?"

He flicked the cigarette butt over the railing, watching it fall before finally turning to face me. His eyes were dark, filled with a turmoil I couldn't decipher. I reached up to touch his face, but he caught my hand, holding it tightly in his own.

His grip on my hand was firm as he turned away from the balcony, leading us back into the room. He sank into the couch. I stood there, watching him, my heart aching with the weight of his silence.

Memories flooded my mind, moments that defined us, that showcased the depth of our connection. I remembered the first time I saw him, standing in the shadows of Hogwarts' library. His eyes, dark and intense, met mine and I felt an inexplicable pull towards him. Despite his infamous last name, there was something in him that I couldn't ignore.

The wizarding world saw him in two extremes: as a legacy of power or as a monster. To me, he was neither. He was Mattheo, the boy who found solace in the pages of old books, who laughed freely with me by the Black Lake, and who kissed me tenderly in hidden corridors.

I remembered the night we decided to leave it all behind. The weight of his family's name haunted him, the expectations and fears others placed on him were suffocating. We chose love over legacy, escaping to a place where he wasn't seen as the heir to a dark throne, but simply as a man in love.

I remembered the first time he had said, **"You're the love of my life,"** when we were just kids. His words had been simple, but they had held a promise that resonated through the years and since then he won’t stop to remind me of it every chance he gets. We left the grandeur of wizarding society for a small, quiet life in the countryside. It was a decision that felt right, a decision I'd make a million times over without regret.

I moved to sit beside him on the couch. "Hey," I said softly, trying to catch his eye. "Baby, please, what is bothering you?"

He remained a statue, his body rigid, his gaze fixed on a spot on the floor far beyond me. It was like staring into a stranger's eyes, devoid of the warmth and affection that used to light them up whenever he looked at me.

"Okay," I tried again, my voice cracking under the strain. "So... what about we go to that place you like tonight?Remember, we were talking about—"

"We are not going anywhere," he cut me off, his voice flat, devoid of any emotion. It sent a fresh wave of ice crashing through my veins.

Panic clawed at my throat. "Okay, we can stay home," I stammered, desperately searching for anything to break the suffocating silence, "make some ________ "

He stood up abruptly, his movement so sudden it startled me. My breath hitched in my throat as his towering figure loomed over me. The playful glint in his eyes, the one that used to make my heart skip a beat, was replaced with a cold,hard glint of something far more sinister.

The words died in my mouth when I saw the look on his face. It was a mix of anger, frustration, and something else I couldn't quite place – a flicker of regret, maybe? But it was quickly overshadowed by the other emotions, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

"Don't you get it?" he spat, his voice laced with a bitterness I'd never heard before. "This was never supposed to be serious. It was fun, a distraction, but nothing more."

My breath hitched. Distraction?

"But... but I..." I stammered, the words catching in my throat.

"You what, Y/N?" He scoffed, the sound harsh and unforgiving. "Did you think being with me was some grand fairytale? You know who I am, Y/N. There's a legacy to uphold, a family to consider. Did you think you, with your… your ordinary life, could ever fit into that?"

His words, each one laced with disdain, ripped through me like a knife. Ordinary. Was that all I was to him?

"But…" I stammered, my voice choked with unshed tears. "We… we built a beautiful life together. We talked about our future we__"

He scoffed, a harsh, humorless sound. "Future? Y/N, you left your life for me. Your family, your friends, everything. Did you really think I'd just abandon everything I have, my legacy, for… for you?"

"I… I never asked you to abandon anything," I whispered, tears blurring my vision. My voice was barely audible, a broken plea lost in the suffocating silence of the room.

"But you did," he countered, his voice growing colder with every word. "You disrupted the plan. You made me question everything."

"But I love you," I whispered, the words fragile and broken. "I gave up everything for you."

His answer was a cruel laugh. "Love? Don't be ridiculous. You were just young and naive, Y/N. You thought escaping your family drama meant finding some happily ever after. This isn't some storybook”

The pain was a physical entity now, a vise tightening around my chest, squeezing the air out of my lungs.

"Did you ever loved me, Mattheo? Or was it just another lie?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. The question hung heavy in the air, a desperate plea for a shred of hope in the midst of this crushing despair.

He met my gaze, his eyes devoid of warmth, devoid of anything resembling the love I had seen reflected there countless times before. "No," he said, the word sharp and final. "I liked you, Y/N. I enjoyed the… distraction. But this? This isn't love."

I looked up at him, searching his eyes for a flicker of the warmth we once shared. I sank onto the couch, my tears falling uncontrollably.

He took a step back, his eyes holding a flicker of something that looked suspiciously like guilt. But it was quickly replaced by a cold indifference that sent a fresh wave of pain crashing over me.

"I'll leave," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "You can stay here."

He grabbed his phone and keys from the coffee table, his movements mechanical, devoid of the warmth that used to characterize even his most mundane actions.

I sat there, numb, watching him walk towards the door. The sound of the door slamming shut echoed in the room, each reverberation a physical blow to my heart. It was then, as the final echo died down, that the dam broke.

A sob escaped my lips, a raw, primal sound that tore through the silence. I crumpled onto the couch, my body racked with sobs. The pain felt like a physical entity, a crushing weight in my chest, stealing my breath and blurring the world around me.

We almost had it all. Almost.

The space beside me in the bed remained stubbornly empty, a constant reminder of the gaping hole Mattheo's absence had ripped in my life. The night after he left, I lay there, a hollow shell staring at the ceiling. My body ached with a dull throb,the aftermath of the storm that had raged within me. Sleep was a distant dream, replaced by a relentless torrent of tears that threatened to drown me.

Days blurred into one another. I became a prisoner in my own apartment, trapped in the agonizing limbo of grief. Getting out of bed felt like a herculean task, the simple act of breathing a burden. Time stretched before me, an endless expanse of grey, devoid of colour or joy.

The silence in the apartment was deafening, broken only by the occasional choked sob that escaped my lips. The remnants of our life together mocked me - a half-finished puzzle on the coffee table, his abandoned toothbrush in the bathroom, the scent of his cologne that clung stubbornly to his favourite armchair.

Grief twisted within me, manifesting in a kaleidoscope of emotions. Rage surged through me in hot waves, followed by crushing despair that left me weak and breathless. I'd scream into pillows, the sound muffled and distorted, a hollow echo of the pain tearing at me.

In a fit of blind fury, I hurled a picture frame across the room, the glass shattering into a million pieces on impact. The sound was almost satisfying, a momentary release from the suffocating silence within. But even the destruction brought no solace. The room, once a symbol of our love, now mirrored the fractured state of my heart.

Exhaustion eventually claimed me, pulling me into a restless sleep. Dreams offered no solace, only a cruel twist of reality.I dreamt of Mattheo, his eyes filled with regret, his lips brushing against mine as he whispered apologies, promises that he didn't mean it, that he loved me.

Then, with a jolt, I woke up. The stark reality of the empty bed, the chilling silence, slammed back into me. It was a dream, a cruel mirage in the desert of my grief. Tears welled up again, hot and stinging, as the realization settled in - he wasn't coming back.

The sting of the hot water had done little to soothe the raw ache in my chest. Stepping out of the shower, I wrapped myself in a towel, the reflection in the mirror a stranger staring back. My eyes, once sparkling with life, were bloodshot and puffy from days of relentless crying. My skin, usually vibrant with a healthy glow, was pale and drawn. I barely recognized myself.

Back in the bedroom, the emptiness hit me with renewed force. Each creak of the floorboard, each tick of the clock echoed the hollowness within. My gaze fell on a crumpled piece of paper lying innocuously on my bed. A surge of confusion washed over me. I hadn't placed anything there.

Frantic, I searched the room, the silence broken only by the ragged gasps escaping my lips. There was no one here; Mattheo was gone. A bitter laugh escaped me, the irony laced with a fresh wave of tears. He'd warned me – never trust anyone. But where was he now, the one person I'd trusted with my entire heart?

Picking up the paper, I unfolded it, hands trembling. The words scrawled across the page were written in an ancient language, one I recognized from my dusty spellbooks. But what caught my eye was the line at the top – "From a friend." A friend? In the wreckage of my world, the concept felt alien.

The spell itself was simple, its purpose clear – to numb the pain. It promised a temporary reprieve from the agonizing ache that threatened to consume me. But a tiny voice whispered a warning deep within. Magic always came with a price and this spell must be forbidden for a reason.

Tears blurred my vision as I stared at the parchment. What was the worst that could happen?

Numbness. That's what I craved. It seemed like a small price to pay when compared to the excruciating pain that gnawed at my very core. Didn't I deserve some peace, even if it was temporary?

With a shaky hand, I reached for my wand. The familiar weight in my palm felt foreign, a stark reminder of the life I used to lead – a life filled with laughter, love, and magic. Now, it held the potential for oblivion, a desperate escape from the unbearable reality.

Taking a deep breath, I whispered the incantation, the ancient words tasting bitter on my tongue. A faint blue light emanated from the tip of my wand, engulfing me in a cool embrace. For a moment, there was nothing – no pain, no sorrow, just an emotionless void.

The first few days were a blur. I spent them curled up in bed, staring listlessly at the ceiling, the world fading into a muted backdrop. The spell wore off after a few hours, but the return of pain was a stronger than ever. So, I cast it again.

Then again.

And again.

What started as an occasional escape became a daily ritual. The once faint blue light became a familiar glow, casting an eerie light on my deteriorating world. Soon, once a day wasn't enough. Twice became the norm, then three, then a constant hum of magic thrummed in the air around me, a desperate attempt to outrun the pain.

A metallic tang filled my mouth, jolting me awake. Blood. My nose was bleeding, a crimson stain blooming down the front of my nightgown. Panic clawed at my throat, a sharp contrast to the dull ache that had become my constant companion.

This wasn't normal. The numbness, the shield I had built around my heart, it was slipping. The raw, agonizing grief threatened to consume me once more. But the familiar blue light, once my solace, refused to respond. My wand trembled in my hand, the incantation stumbling on my tongue, the ancient words feeling foreign and hollow.

A strange dizziness washed over me, the room tilting at an alarming angle. My vision blurred, the edges of the room dissolving into swirling colors. A wave of nausea hit me, bile rising in my throat. This wasn't just the pain returning; this was something different, something terrifyingly new.

My body, once numb to all sensation, ignited in protest. A dull ache that had become my baseline morphed into a searing pain that radiated from my core. My limbs grew heavy, a strange tingling sensation creeping up my extremities. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat echoing the fear coursing through me.

Tears, long forgotten, welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision even further. I stumbled out of bed, my legs shaky and uncoordinated. The world swam before me, the once-familiar room morphing into a maze of threatening shadows.

The next day dawned, bringing no relief. The symptoms, once a terrifying novelty, became a relentless onslaught. My body wracked with chills one moment, then burning with an internal fever the next. Blood, not just from my nose but also from my mouth, stained everything I touched, a grotesque reminder of my deteriorating state.

Weakness, crippling and pervasive, enveloped me. As I tried to rise from my bed, the world tilted violently, and my vision swam with black spots. A scream ripped from my throat, a scream, desperate plea for help that echoed unanswered in the empty apartment.

Then, darkness threatened to consume me. I felt myself falling, the floor rushing up to meet me. But just before the sweet oblivion of unconsciousness claimed me, a strong pair of hands gripped my body, arresting my fall.

Disoriented and delirious, I blinked, my vision blurry. Through the haze, a familiar face materialized.

"Y/N?Can you hear me love?" A voice, urgent and laced with panic, called my name. It sounded distant, muffled, as if filtered through water. But the warmth of the hand holding me, the metallic scent of my blood staining his fingers, these were real.

This wasn't a dream. It was him.

"What have you done, love?" Mattheo's voice, ragged with worry, reached me through the haze of pain engulfing my body. I wanted to answer, to tell him everything, but the words wouldn't form. The pain that had been a constant ache in my heart had become a monstrous beast clawing at every inch of me.

"It hurt so much," I managed to gasp, tears mixing with the blood trickling down my nose.

His hands were gentle but firm, cradling me, wiping away the blood and the tears with a tenderness that brought a flicker of warmth to the icy grip of fear that had taken hold. "I know, baby, I know," he murmured, desperation lacing his voice. "Just tell me, please, what have you done?"

"I just wanted it to stop," I rasped, pointing weakly at my heart, its every beat a thrumming ache. “ it hurt so much.”

My gaze drifted beyond his shoulder, and a flicker of disbelief sparked through the fog clouding my mind. There, in the doorway, stood the man whose name had only been whispered in hushed tones – the man who controlled Mattheo's destiny, his father.

"He… he's back?" My voice was a rasp, barely audible, the metallic tang of blood filling my mouth.

"Shh, love, don't try to talk," Mattheo soothed, his grip tightening protectively around me.

"What have you done to her?" He turned to his father, his voice sharp as a knife.

"Just showed her a way to numb the pain," the man replied with chilling indifference. In that moment, the fear I felt transcended human comprehension.

He looked exactly like the villains from my childhood fairytales, the embodiment of pure evil.

So this was the reason behind the shift in Mattheo, the darkness that had threatened to consume him.

Fear clawed at me, but I managed to reach for Mattheo's hand, finding strength in his warm touch. His other hand stroking my hair grounded me.

"Don't be afraid, love," he murmured into my hair.

"It wasn't the deal!" Mattheo said, his voice laced with a fury I'd never witnessed before. "I told you I would leave her, I would leave everything, but you just had to leave her out of it!"

"I'm helping you, child," the man said, his voice devoid of emotion. "You pushed her away, but you love her. That cannot happen. You need to get rid of your weakness."

"Shut up!" Mattheo snarled, his eyes blazing. "Shut the fuck up. You leave her out of this!"

I choked on a fresh wave of blood, the world spinning wildly. This was too much, far too much. A terrible realization dawned on me – I was dying.

But at least I was dying in Mattheo's arms, and in that moment, I knew he didn't mean the cruel words he'd spoken. He was just trying to protect me.

"You're not dying," Mattheo whispered fiercely, as if reading my mind. "You're not dying, baby. I won't allow it."

"It's okay," I rasped, my voice barely audible.

"It's not!" he argued, his voice thick with desperation. I reached out, my trembling hand finding his. He squeezed it back, his touch a beacon of strength in the storm.

"Can you say it like you used to ? can you tell me that you love me?" My voice was barely a whisper. "I want to hear you say it one last time."

"No, because you are not dying," he insisted, turning his blazing gaze back to his father. "Save her, do something and save her or I swear, I won't just leave you. I will make sure to ruin you, ruin everything you built, kill you for good this time."

Another cough, another surge of blood. My vision blurred at the edges.

"Mattheo," I whispered, my voice weak but determined.

He looked down at me, his face etched with agony. "You're not dying," he repeated, his voice a desperate plea.

"Look at me, love," he pleaded, his voice cracking. "Keep your eyes on me. Keep those beautiful eyes on me, baby."

With a final surge of strength, I mustered a smile. "I love you," I whispered. "I love you so much."

He cupped my face, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. "You're the love of my life, and I love you more than life itself," he declared, his voice thick with emotion.

A weak smile touched my lips. Before darkness threatened to claim me, a single thought brought a sliver of peace. He loved me. That was all that mattered.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Do you think she will survive? 🙄

#slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x you #mattheo riddle masterlist #mattheo riddle angst #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheoriddle #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo smut #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle imagines #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle scenarios #mattheo riddle series

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kairiscorner · 5 months

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❝𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐒 . . .❞

kento nanami x wife!reader imagine . . . 💭

✒️ word count: 424 💭 summary: your little darlings caught their mommy kissing santa claus... ~ 🍥 author's note: it's pretty suggestive bc it's nanami fucking kento 💝 🎧 song inspo: i saw mommy kissing santa claus by the jackson 5

the sound of your daughter squealing and pointing at you and the red jacket clad man dressed up as the jolliest man on earth alerted your young son to come into the living room, who squealed in return.

their mommy was kissing santa claus in the living room last night.

your eyes widened and you immediately pulled away from him, involuntarily smiling as you see his flustered face. you always insisted a beard suited your dear husband, though he never thought putting on the snow white beard and wearing a santa costume the two of you scraped together to surprise your children would really make them believe santa arrived tonight to leave their pretty mother with a gift for all her nice (and naughty) deeds this year.

"santa's kissing mommy!" your little girl cried out, with your little boy covering her eyes and screaming, "mommy's kissing santa claus!" you chuckled under your breath as your husband sighed and muttered under his breath how the plan to surprise them at midnight with santa's arrival was now ruined. "i knew we should've saved the fun for later..." he mumbled, with you placing your hands on the opposite sides of his face with a soft and sly smile on your face.

"well, at least santa spoiled me with a reward for being the sweetest mother ever, no?" you giggled out, making nanami blush at your boldness, with him easing against your touch, making your children squeal again and cry out how their mommy was kissing santa, it's true! they saw it with their own eyes!

as they rushed to get their daddy and tell him all about how mommy's gonna make santa their new daddy... you pulled your husband closer and pecked his lips gently, treating him for his sweetness and devotion to you and your children, to this little family you both call yours. "you always deserve a reward for being my beautiful and perfect wife, darling." he reminds you with a low chuckle of his own, pulling the beard down and kissing you passionately, warming you up better than the fireplace and the burn of alcohol did.

with the sound of your children's cries and giggles at having caught their pretty mommy kissing santa claus filled the whole house, they'd never let you live it down... guess your dearest husband's going to have to remind you who you really love once he comes back. but tonight... you'll be showing santa baby over here just how much you've been a good girl for him this year.

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facefullofsadness · 3 months

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poly!aespa comforting you

gf!aespa x reader, university!au

fluff, 1.6k wc

quite frankly, I've had a terrible ass fucking day and honestly, the thought of just collapsing into the arms of my 4 gfs is such a pleasant thing to think ab. small warning for mentions of deteriorating mental health. enjoy (I love them so much).

your classes today span from 7 am to 7 pm, coming back home, however, just before midnight, having had to work on extra assignments or what not. you were so fucking exhausted, you didn't even get good sleep last night and had to wake up early too. your girlfriends were already home, aeri and minjeong in the kitchen while yizhuo and rina cleaned the house, all of them waiting for you to come home.

you'd usually be back by 8 or 9 during these 7-7 days, but once the clock hit 10, your girls started to worry. winselle had already been done a while ago with the food and ningrina had finished cleaning by the time they all realized you hadn't come home yet. jeong immediately texted you, asking if you were okay, a worried expression on her face. the unnies felt their heart drop to their stomach imagining the worst, the two of them exchanging a look of worry. ningyi was borderline hysterical, verbalizing everything wrong that could've happened to you, which ranged from rambling ab if your phone had died or lost signal to if you had gotten into an accident on the way home or someone had taken you.

her hysteria didn't help at all and just made all of them worry even more. rina tried to be level-headed about it and give rational explanations, to which everyone agreed. but the worry didn't subside once it turned 11. they all started becoming paranoid as fuck. and so, rina texted you, aeri called you, jeongie dm'd your socials, and yizhuo contacted all your friends. they had to figure out where you were and most importantly, if you were okay.

when honestly in reality, you just had ur phone on silent, not touching it, just trying to power through all the fucking piles of work you had to finish. when you finally did, you packed your shit and booked it, not even glancing at your phone and b-lining home, wanting to feel the warm embrace of your gfs. you finally made it to the door of your shared apartment, leaning your forehead against the hardwood and sighing. your temples throbbed and eyes heavy with exhaustion, your body barely able to move atp. but you gathered enough energy to dig for your keys and unlock the door.

the girls perked up when they heard the locks rattle. ning raced for the door and swung it open before you could unlock it, colliding her body with yours and burying her face into your winter coat.

"where have you been?!" she would exclaim, voice muffled by your clothes.

"ningie, that's enough, at least let her come in," rina said behind her, pulling both of you inside and closing the door.

she pulled away, and the four girls crowded around you, their eyes full of worry but relief as well. you ignore their gazes and rid of your outerwear, removing your shoes, taking off your bag, and slipping out of your coat. they followed you as you dragged yourself to the living room and collapsed on the couch face first. they all jumped a little when you suddenly screamed into the armrest, letting out your stress and pent up exhaustion.

aeri was the first to reapproach you, pulling your limp body up to face her, her kneeling down beside you on the couch.

"you okay baby?" her voice gentle but lined with so much concern.

you closed your eyes at the feeling of her fingers brushing your hair, suddenly feeling tears well up in your eyes. no, you wanted to say, I'm so overwhelmed and stressed and today fucking sucked. but the sheer amount of exhaustion and dread washed over you, making u unable to respond and also start sobbing softly.

ur quiet cries didn't go unheard, the three other girls standing around you on the couch feeling their heart break at the sight of you, just absolutely shattered. aeri's jaw clenched and her eyebrows dropped, immediately pulling you up against her body, you shoving ur face into her neck. the other girls joined just as fast, feeling minjeong move under you so u sat on her lap, your back being hugged by ning, aeri letting you cry into her.

rina crouched down in front of you and rested her chin on your thigh, holding one of your hands with her own, using her free hand to caress your cheek and brush the hair out of your face. the five of you cuddled in silence, your sweet gfs just letting you release all your pent up emotions, feeling emotional themselves watching you so broken.

you were in such a devastated state, crying and aching, feeling so tired and wanting to sleep but being so fucking hungry that your stomach hurt. but even in this moment, despite barely able to breathe thru ur clogged nostrils, the only thing you're able to hear is white noise and the sound of your hiccups, shaking against gigi's sweater, jeongie's lap, yizhuo's hold, and jimin's hands, god, you felt so loved.

you felt so cared for, so adored, so safe, so comforted, so warm. rina leaving the gentlest kisses on ur leg and hands, aeri placing small pecks on ur forehead and hair, minjeong caressing your skin under your shirt, and ning holding you in the most comforting embrace, mumbling to herself against your back ("oh my sweet sweet girl, I'm so sorry you feel so broken, I love you so much :((("). they felt so good, so sweet, like home.

sitting there for minutes to hours, just holding onto you like their precious baby (you are), never leaving your side for a second, making sure every inch of your body was paid attention to. it made you melt further and further into them, something u needed desperately in this moment (it's also cold as fuck outside). u stopped crying on your own, feeling the tears stain ur cheeks as they slowly stopped falling from your eyes, sniffling to recollect yourself (and not leave gross remnants on ur gf's givenchy sweater).

the sound of ur soft giggle made all of them look at u. you sniffle once, twice, hiccup, before mumbling loud enough onto giselle's skin, "fuck."

they all let out an amused chuckle or sigh, rubbing at your skin, your back, patting your head or hair, anything, anywhere, just touching you and making sure you feel their love and affection for you.

"I hate to ruin your designer aeri..." you pull back slightly away from her neck, bringing a hand up to brush at your nose.

"don't even worry your pretty little head about it my love, are you kidding? I don't care about this, especially not when I have the most precious thing in the world right here," she states so sweetly, kissing ur stained cheeks.

"I wet it..." u hiccup.

"it's not like it's the first time you've cried into this sweater. except, it was for other reasons," aeri snickers next to your ear.

karina scowls, winter grimaces, and ningning bellows with laughter. you playfully hit her shoulder and roll your tired eyes as she smiles at you with that adorable and sweet :] shaped grin of hers. jimin taps your thigh and you look down at her, "tough day?"

you nod your head with a heavy sigh, the two younger girls following it up with rubbing your body caringly.

"you should rest princess, let's get you relaxed, okay?" yizhuo behind you rests her chin on your shoulder and says against your ear, the other girls nodding in agreement.

you let out a silent but audible okay before your girlfriends get to work. helping you get cleaned up and out of your clothes you've been in all day, getting you water and electrolytes to replenish the amount of tears you shed, feeding you dinner, getting you ready to sleep in your bed. they all do this in such blissful and comfortable silence, putting your mind at ease and peace as to not stimulate your overwhelmed form any further. they were so calm and patient with you, speaking softly and treating you gently, making sure you were okay with every little simple yet thoughtful thing they did to and for you.

as the girls discussed silently with one another who would stay with you for the night, your weak voice raised from behind them, immediately grabbing their attention.

"please, I need all of you with me tonight. please stay with me?"

the desperation and sorrow in your voice made their hearts ache. they love you so much, like so fucking much. so of course, they did. all of you cuddled up together in karina's big bed, you snuggled up nice, tight, and warm in the center. the soft noises the girls around you made as they slumbered, making sure they had some part of their body touching yours, never wanting to feel you apart from them.

"sleep baby," minjeong's soft cute voice emerges from the dark, her face digging into your neck and placing the sweetest kisses against your skin, "you deserve every bit of rest in the universe."

a smile creeps onto your face hearing her genuine adoring words towards you. you hum contentedly in acknowledgement, shifting closer to the sleepy girl next to you. drifting off to sleep with an exhausted figure, droopy eyes with dark bags, aching heart, overwhelmed mind, but the bestest girls loving you, right by your side, all yours, all theirs.

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fayes-fics · 3 months

Text

When The World Is Free: Chapter 12 - Je T'ai Dans La Peau

MASTERPOST PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, WW2 AU.

Warnings: Teen-rated... non-graphic references to sex/sexual situations.

Word Count: 2.7k

Author’s Note: Multi-chapter fic based on a request by the lovely @amillcitygirl. Please see the masterpost for a synopsis of this story. Our couple are sneaking around Aubrey Hall, trying to get time alone together, but it was always going to be noticed by a certain eagle-eyed mama. Sorry this has taken a while, life got very busy. Thanks as always to @colettebronte for beta reading. Enjoy!

Aubrey Hall, UK, September/October 1939

It's the early hours when you finally get a moment alone with Benedict.

Throughout the evening, including a raucous but entertaining family dinner, your attempts are stymied at every turn. At the end of the evening, Eloise shows you to your guest room and lingers long after you have gotten ready for bed, waxing lyrical about Phillip, her plans to get a place in London (“Come with me!”) and her ambitions to get a job at the British Library.

You listen as intently as you can, but your eyes droop as you climb under the covers, the bed so plush, promising her you are still listening even when you settle into the pillows. At some point, you drift off, maybe her as well, but when you awaken, your wristwatch says it is after midnight, and she is gone from your room.

Just as you are drifting again, there is a soft knock at your door. You wonder if you heard correctly at first, but when it happens again, you sleepily alight from your bed. Upon opening, the sight before you has you wide awake - Benedict, looking cosy but dashing in navy blue silk pyjamas. After a quick check that the corridor is clear, you grab his arm and haul him into your room, closing and locking the door behind you.

You look at each other, breathing heavily for a beat, then crash into each other, him grabbing you and hauling you off the ground into his arm, your legs winding instantly around his hips as you kiss greedily, hungrily. He groans, cupping your jaw and kissing you more, always kissing, until you are breathless for air. Your need for him is like an eternal flame, burning slowly all the time, but the second he touches you, it roars, awakening something primal, a physical need that burns your lungs and aches deep inside.

“Can we?”

“Can we what…?” He replies, lips sliding to your neck.

“Have sex?”

“Oh god…I didn't bring protection,” Benedict rues, sinking his forehead onto your shoulder.

“Benedict!” you whine, a touch petulant.

“I’m sorry… I will go get it…” he offers apologetically.

“Don't you dare leave me again so soon,” you growl, winding yourself tighter around him.

He chuckles. “Then perhaps maybe we can just find pleasure in other ways…” his promise dusky as he lowers you onto the bed.

Half an hour later, you are staring at the ceiling, panting, utterly sated as he once again used his mouth to bring you to a shaking pinnacle, your cries muffled into a pillow.

“We must find somewhere private,” he sighs, his face resting on your belly as you card your fingers through his thick hair. “I like to hear you scream…” his wistful, cheeky addition makes you gasp and swat him gently on the shoulder. He laughs heartily and crawls up over you on all fours. “We can steal away somewhere on the grounds where no one would find us,” he assures, eyes shining in the low lamplight.

“I shall keep you to that promise, Mr Bridgerton,” you threaten softly, pushing his shoulders until he lies on his back, you hovering over him now. “Do you think you are capable of being as quiet as I was?”

“Why do you ask?” a flicker of confusion over his face, until your hand slides down his flat stomach and lands upon the warm bulge in his pyjamas.

“I would like to return the favour…” you offer, as his breath hitches beautifully. “I have never used my mouth as such, but you will teach me, won't you? Tell me what you like?”

His groan is like music as you shuffle lower, looking up at him with fluttering eyelashes as he stares down at you with utter devotion.

—

Bright sunlight slices through a gap in the heavy velvet curtains when you stir, sad to be alone. Benedict said he would leave at some point in the night but insisted you fall asleep in his arms.

As you descend the main staircase, Eloise catches up to you, looping your arm in hers and dragging you to breakfast. It's a far cry from your trips to the boulangerie together for croissants. It is a full buffet with gleaming silver chafing dishes lined up on a sideboard.

“Is your life here always like this?” your mind boggles as you help yourself to scrambled eggs and some bacon.

“Yeah, pretty much. Boring, right?” She pulls a face.

“Your idea of boring is so very different to mine…” you respond drolly, pouring a cup of coffee and taking a seat at the ornate, long dining table.

No one else appears to be taking breakfast now, but as Eloise natters away, you always have one eye on the doorway, hopeful Benedict will come in. But he doesn't, so you agree to a post-breakfast walk around the estate with her to enjoy the unseasonably warm, early autumn day.

However, as you head to the door, Violet appears as if from nowhere.

“Eloise dearest, I hope you did not forget our plans today…?”

You watch Eloise turn around in slow motion, a pained expression on her face. “Surely that can wait?” she appeals before tilting her head back towards you. “Mother is under the impression that now I am back home, I wish to join the Woman’s Institute,”

“We only meet once a month, and today is that day,” Violet attests, looking at her expectantly. “You have been abroad for the best part of a year, my dear; I would appreciate this quality time with you.”

It's the most loving, motherly manipulation, and you can tell by the way Eloises’s shoulders slump that she cannot argue that point.

“Come with me?” she appeals brightly, tugging your arm.

“Only members are allowed, my dear.” Violet cuts in calmly. “Next month, I can petition for y/n here to join, but she would have to wait until then.”

As you observe their back-and-forth, Benedict appears, wandering down the main staircase, dressed casually in a collarless shirt and brown trousers. He looks so good that you are tongue-tied, wanting to run to him and jump into his arms. You realise you are staring and have to tear your eyes away quickly, but it's too late. You can feel Violet’s watchful eye, made worse by knowing you have a darkening blush over your cheeks.

“Good morning, ladies,” he breezes, doffing an imaginary cap that makes his wedding ring catch the sunlight.

“Benedict dear, Eloise and I are off to Canterbury today. But perhaps you could show y/n around the estate grounds while we are out?” Violet breezes, fixing her son with a winning smile.

His eyes shoot to you and yours to his, a warm flicker behind your ribs at the thought you get a few hours alone together.

“Yes, no problem,” he smiles, attempting nonchalance.

“Don't do anything I wouldn't do…” is her parting shot as she gently drags Eloise towards the car outside.

“That covers a lot of ground; she's surprisingly daring,” Benedict states drolly as you watch them pile into the vehicle.

“Do you think she suspects something?” you ask faintly as you both stand in the doorway waving.

“Perhaps…” he concedes, not looking at you. “I suspect this was at least partially engineered. Not that I am complaining,” he adds hurriedly as the car pulls away.

“Same…” you offer quietly, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

—

You are staring at the wispy clouds puffing gently over the sky, the long grass lush under your back, the midday early autumnal sun warm on your skin as you lay naked, entwined together in post-coital bliss on a remote hillside of the estate.

“You kept your promise, Mr Bridgerton, to find us a secluded spot together.”

His crooked smile is boyish, and his eyes dance in the sunlight. “Indeed, I did. And I greatly enjoyed your screams,” he teases with a wink.

“Stop it,” you demure, burying your face into his armpit, enjoying the scent of his skin there.

“Don't be bashful now,” he chuckles, rearranging your bodies so you are under him, his head resting upon your chest. “I would keep any promise I made to you,” he continues after a pause. His tone sincere, his breath dusting warm over your nipple, and his ear pressed to the skin on your sternum as if listening to your heartbeat.

“And I to you,” you confess, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, fingers mapping a constellation of freckles near his shoulder blade.

“Will you be wanting a divorce?” his question is almost hesitant—like he is torn between wanting to know and not know all at once.

“Would you want one?” you volley back, knowing it’s cowardly to answer his question with another.

“I see no reason to,” his words are quiet as he tilts his chin to look at you. “I do not plan to marry another,” he adds pointedly.

“Me neither…” you answer, meeting his gaze imploringly, wanting him to believe it. The last thing you want to do is go back to America now. You want to stay here with him—for as long as he will permit.

“You will stay here?” There is a hopeful lilt in his voice, his left hand lacing with yours, wedding rings pressed together.

“I have my freedom to remain in this country. I wish to be nowhere else but here…” Your answer is so dangerously close to a confession of what you genuinely feel, but you hold back, even as you know your heart is now thudding hard under his ear.

“Here with me?” he flips up onto all fours and climbs over you, that beguiling smile seeming to capture his whole face.

“Yes, with you, if you’ll have me…” you smile back at him as he looms above, his face in shadow, his hair a riotous halo around his head, backlit by the sun.

“Oh, I will have you plenty of times…” his promise dusky as his lips land on yours.

“That sounds like a promise, Mr Bridgerton…” you join in the banter between kisses.

“And you know I keep my promises,” he smirks before grasping both of your hands in his and stretching them into the tangle of wildflowers above your heads as you get lost in each other's bodies again.

—

And so it continues, night after night, days becoming weeks. Stealing away precious moments together whenever possible, knowing the risk you are running but unable to resist any opportunity, physical longing takes over, falling into each other, desperate and yearning. As if a part of you lives under each other's skin. Every night, he comes to your room long after the house is asleep, and every night, you fracture around him, your ecstatic cries muffled into his dewy skin.

The clandestine nature is partly not wanting to confess to Eloise but also to keep it a secret from the world—a precious, rare thing, just a fledgling you want to shelter. Give it time to breathe and grow. Although, on some level, you know that Violet knows. Her glances at you both, when you are in the same room, feigning nothing untoward, are too pointed. Yet she says nothing outright.

It's two weeks since you settled into Aubrey Hall when Eloise is in a sour mood one morning. She had just received a phone call from Phillip, and you suspect their London rendezvous has been delayed again.

“Why the hell are you still wearing that?” she grouses uncharitably, pointing at your wedding ring.

“It means a lot to me; it’s a symbol of our escape,” your answer is a partial truth.

Eloise can’t seem to find fault with that, so swings her attention elsewhere. “So what's your excuse?” she gruffs to Benedict, who is reading the paper on the opposite sofa.

Across the room, you sense Violet's pause in her jigsaw puzzle.

“Why does the jewellery I wear bother you so much, sister?” he evades, crumpling down his newspaper to shoot her a withering glance. “I’ve never heard you comment upon my signet ring.”

“That's completely different, and you know it,” Eloise decries. “That's a ring you inherited from Dad. Also, where were you last night?” She abruptly changes the subject.

“What do you mean?” he bristles slightly.

“I went to your room late to borrow the Agatha Christie book you stole,” she pauses to pull a pointed face. “And you weren't there. Your bed didn't even look like it had been slept in.”

“Are you my mother now?” he rebuffs airily. “If you must know, I couldn't sleep either; I was out.”

“Your car was here…”

“Out as in outside,” he shoots back, “walking the grounds by moonlight.”

He's not lying. He is, however, omitting the fact that you were with him. The summer house by the lake has become your new clandestine spot, fashioning a comfortable bed of towels and pool lounger cushions. You can make love passionately in secret without fear of interruption or being overheard, falling asleep wrapped in each other as you stare out of the French doors at the blanket of stars reflecting on the still water.

Eloise gives him a lingering side-eye but returns to the book—Agatha Christie’s Death on the Nile. Once she is distracted, your eyes dart to Benedict, and he gives you a reassuring smile that you can't help but mirror, even as Violet peers at you mutely once again.

—

Later that day, you are perusing books in Anthony’s office when a painting of a man who looks remarkably like Benedict makes you stop short. Violet seems to materialise beside you.

“My husband, Edmund,” she explains, her voice wistful and evocative of the ache of lost love, undulled by the passage of time. “True love is a wondrous thing; never let it slip through your fingers, and treasure every moment,” she counsels, twisting to look at your face.

“I would never,” you answer quietly, even as you steadfastly refuse to do the same, staring at the painting, heart speeding up.

“That's a good thing, my dear, and don’t worry about the judgement of others, especially those who are spirited and headstrong.” She can only be referring to Eloise: “They all come around eventually, believe me.”

At that, you have to look at her askance, unable to hide the nerves on your face. “You know?” unable to resist any longer.

“I know my children better than they know themselves,” she responds lightly, “and I certainly know when they are hiding something,” she adds softly, saying but not saying so much.

It feels like a weight is lifted from your heart, the undeniable urge to confess to someone - unable to do so to your usual companion.

“I have no idea how to tell Eloise,” you rush out. “This was never my plan, not what I intended to happen,” you clarify. “Benedict sacrificed his future to give me my freedom.”

“You sacrificed yours too…” she gently interrupts.

“But I never wanted mine,” you admit, your eyes drifting back up to the handsome man in the painting as if admitting it to Benedict’s dad as much as his mum at your side. “At least, not once I met your son…. I thought I knew what I wanted in life. But I was a fool. And now… I….” you trail off, unable to finish.

“You love him, don't you?” It's a delicate, comforting inflexion.

“I can barely believe it myself; it's been such a short period of time. But yes…” you admit sotto voce, hanging your head as a tear wells in the corner of your eye.

“As I said, I know my children better than they know themselves,” she repeats, wrapping an arm around your back, “and I know when one of them is hopelessly in love.”

Your head jerks up in surprise, and you finally look into her kindly gaze, your heart a kaleidoscope.

“Yes, my dear. It may take him a while to say it,” she qualifies, “but it's no less true.”

That tear escapes your eye as she pulls you into a motherly hug. Already knowing this will be a secret you keep between you, for now at least.

“Welcome to the family, y/n.”

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lowkeyremi · 5 months

Note

Um. Hello. I've never done an ask but here I am anyways cuz I got an idea reading the drabble of Katsuki taking care of his gaggle of kids while reader is at the gym.

Katsuki, who no matter how many kids he's had before, always panics when his wife goes into labor. Like, she'll be chill, but he'll be freaking out (mostly internally since he isn't a scaredy cat. Obviously.)

But still, he always is extremely worried and stressed even if everything turns out ok he doesn't leave her side during the whole process because he's worried about his lovely wife and his new kid.

So uh. Enjoy this little midnight idea I got :)

No for real!! He's pacing the room while thinking of every possible outcome, good and bad. He gets so caught up in his thoughts he doesn't even here you calling him.

"-tsuki. Katsuki!" You'd yell and he whips his head around so fast.

"Yeah?" He asks walking over to your bed checking your pillows to make sure they're fluffed just right and making sure you have enough water.

"You're doing it again." He rolls his eyes, and tries to pretend he's got it all under control.

"Doin' what? I ain't afraid of nothin'." The glare you give is enough to make that prideful resolve melt for a second.

"Worrying. Quit it, everything's gonna be fine. You act like you're delivering this baby." The bed isn't the most comfortable but it's alright. You lay back a little bit.

"I might as well be." He jokes to lighten the mood a little.

Lowkey he's by the nurses side and they're like "Sir can you please go sit down and let us do our jobs"

He does, but when he hears the first little cries he's up again a slightly worried look on his face. You don't scream as much as the first baby, but you are gripping the bed railings.

"Is there anything I can do to help??" As if on queue Mitsuki arrives and takes him down to get some stuff from her car.

"Quit worrying that woman Katsuki, this is her fourth brat." He's carrying all the baby stuff his mom bought.

"Oh shut up hag. I'll do what I want."

"You're just like your dad. He hovered over me the whole time, talking me through the pain." Katsuki grimaces at the idea of his mother giving birth.

When he answers his mother with silence is prompts her to continue, "She's stronger than she's given credit for I'll tell you that. Two of your children have a big head just like you. I couldn't bear child birth again after I had to push out a head as big as yours. She's brave." Mitsuki explains as they walk back into the hospital.

"Oi, my head isn't big." He argues.

"You didn't have to give birth to you, you wouldn't know."

The two argue all the way back up to the room.

#ik he's soft on the inside i'm not listening to anyone else #he just wants u to be ok #bnha #mha #katsuki bakugo #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader

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babydollmarauders · 10 months

Text

FIGHT — JACK HUGHES

part of the el!hughes au

summary: y/n (lovie) and jack get into their biggest fight yet

warnings: fighting, mention of bad parents (lovie’s)

my head slumps on the back of the couch as Eleanor’s cries pierce my eardrums.

“El, baby, c’mon.” i groan out.

my recently turned one year old is sprawled out on the apartment floor, throwing a fit over something of which i have no idea.

i tried to pick her up, but she just kept pushing my hands away, screaming ��mama! no! mama, no! no, mama!’

it’s been two weeks of this, and i have a sneaking suspicion that her constant sour mood has been all because of the particular absence of her favorite person. Jack.

it’s been two weeks of early wake-ups and late nights. two weeks of El having meltdowns if i mess up even one thing, like giving her cheetos in a bowl instead of her snack cup, or suggesting Moana instead of watching Lilo & Stitch for the billionth time, or reading her the wrong book at bed time. it’s been two weeks of sleep regression, no naps, and her throwing her food every chance she gets. two weeks of her screaming if i try and leave the room, but screaming if i try and pick her up as well. two weeks of bags under my eyes, messy buns because my hair is horribly greasy, and surviving purely on coffee.

i’m tired. my feet hurt because every time i sit, El screams at me. my head hurts from her screaming. and now my stomach cramps because i, of course, both started my period, and have not had a moment to eat all day. i’ve broken down in tears nearly every night once i finally get El to sleep, because i don’t know how much more of this i can take.

tears well up in my eyes at this very moment, and it takes everything in me to hold back my own screams. not necessarily directed at my daughter, but just in frustration. i can’t think clearly. it’s nearing midnight and i’ve tried everything to get her to sleep, but she just keeps fighting it.

i know she’s tired, just like i am. she’s been up since five in the morning, which means so have i.

“i give up.” i cry out, burying my face in my hands, weeping into them in frustration and exhaustion. “i get it, El. you want your father. i know. please, i know.”

El’s cries pause and i peek through my fingers to see her watching me with a tilted head, before she bursts back into tears.

i steel my spine, wiping my own tears, and strengthening myself. i rise from the couch, scooping my daughter up, despite her smacks to my chest and pulls on my now-falling-out bun, and shuffle towards her bedroom.

going for the last ditch effort, i grab the hidden pacifier in her top dresser drawer, and pop it into her mouth before turning on the white noise machine in the corner and placing her in her crib.

i gaze down at her, watching as she yawns, tears still slipping from her eyes. her eyelids flutter closed before she pries them back open and stares back at me.

“Eleanor Elizabeth Hughes, you have to sleep.” i scold in a whisper.

retreating from the room, closing the door and listening for her wails; i nearly cry in relief when nothing comes. nothing but silence and the sound of the white noise.

my feet pad across the wooden floors as i walk to the kitchen, keeping an ear out for El’s possible whines. too drained to make myself anything sustainable, i settle for a yogurt cup and a cheese stick. bringing my snacks with me into Jack and i’s bedroom, i settle under the blankets.

i have no energy to put into paying attention to a show or movie, and not nearly enough to read a book; so i sit in silence, staring at the wall as i eat.

placing the now empty yogurt cup on my nightstand, i pick at the cheese stick, lost in thought.

i’m struggling.

i feel like a single parent half the time.

i’m not sure how actual single parents do it. the ones who have to work and take care of their children. because parenting in and of itself is a full time job.

i know it’s not fair of me to think so little of myself, but i can’t help feeling like a horrible mother. she never wants me anymore; only ever yearning for Jack.

and i get it. i yearn for him too when he’s gone.

but can’t she be happy with me?

i miss the sound of the front door shutting; too deep in my own head. too far gone in my own thoughts.

but i do hear the not-so-hushed whispers of my husband and his brother as they venture farther into the apartment.

i hear the ‘goodnight.’ from Luke before his bedroom door shuts. i hear the nursery door opening, the white noise from the room getting louder. and then a few minutes later, i hear the nursery door click shut and the sound of my husbands footsteps getting closer down the hall before our bedroom door opens.

my cheese stick is long gone, and my fingers now settle for playing with each other. my nails picking at the others as i still sit in a catatonic state of exhaustion; staring at the wall in front of me.

Jack lets out a breath of surprise when he notices i’m awake in the dim lighting of the bedside lamp.

“hey, lovie.” he leans down, his fists pressing down on the mattress top, and lays a swift kiss on my cheek before rising back up to his full height.

i glance over as he throws Eleanor’s pacifier onto his nightstand.

“i thought we agreed no more pacifiers when she turned one? she hasn’t had one in the past month.” he huffs, stripping his shirt off and throwing it towards the hamper in the corner of the bedroom, narrowly missing by an inch. he eyes the shirt for a millisecond before shrugging and repeating the process with his pants, this time making it in the hamper.

“yeah, well, you weren’t here to attend to her screams and i was.” i retort.

“so you resorted to the paci?” he questions, pulling a pair of flannel pajama pants out of his dresser drawer.

“stop mom-shaming me.” i snap, scooting down and flopping onto my side, my back facing Jack.

“lovie.” he sighs. the bed dips as he sits behind me. “that’s not what i was doing.”

“yes. you were.” i accuse. “you’re saying i’m a bad mom for giving my daughter what she needed in order to fall asleep.”

i turn in the bed to look up at him and he parts his lips to speak, but i keep going.

“but you weren’t here, Jack. you didn’t hear her cries, or have to try every trick in the book to calm her down. you weren’t awake with her for nineteen hours with no nap only to still have her fight bed time. so, yes, i resorted to the pacifier. and ya know what? it worked.”

“i get that you’re in a bad mood, but why are you taking it out on me? i wasn’t even here for you to get angry at me.” he remarks.

“i’m not.” i deny, closing my eyes and hoping he’ll take it as a sign to just let me sleep.

“you are.” he grunts. “and it makes me feel like i’m the bad guy for doing my job.”

“well, i wouldn't have to do this all alone if it weren't for your fucking job.” i know as soon as i say it that my words were uncalled for. but, before i can take them back, Jack stands from the bed, making my eyes fly open to look at him.

“do i not help when i’m home? i’m so sorry that me providing for our family is so hard for you.” he sneers. his sarcasm is not appreciated, and i sit up in the bed in anger. “i’m so sorry that you have to be a mother, while i’m gone making money so that you don’t have to work.”

i shuffle onto my knees on the bed, glaring daggers at my husband.

“when have i ever complained about being a mother? and when have i ever said that i don’t want to work? i never asked to stay at home! but it’s what i do, because not both of us can work without putting El in daycare. which you said you didn’t want to do.”

my finger juts at my chest before poking his. my words harsh in delivery, but quiet in attempt to not disturb the sleeping baby down the hall.

“i never once complained about being a mother. i love her.” i continue.

“are you implying that i don’t love her?” Jack fumes.

“i never said that!” i cry. “you’re putting words into my mouth!”

“i’m just trying to provide for us!” our attempted quiet is long forgotten now, and i can only hope that the white noise in El’s room is enough to mask our argument.

“you think i don’t know that?” i exclaim, he opens his mouth but i don’t let him get a word in. “i’m just saying that you don’t understand how exhausting it is being a single parent half the fucking hockey season! you leave and play games and go out to fucking bars to celebrate wins and i stay here and take care of our daughter, who for the past two weeks, only wanted you!”

Jack throws his hands up in the air, huffing in anger.

“well, i can’t help that! i get that it’s hard, but you’d think you’d be a bit more grateful. it’s part of my job to leave, y/n!”

of everything he’s said, it’s those words that cut me the deepest. and what hurts the most, as small as it may seem, is that within all of our fights, big or small, throughout our entire six years together, never once has he called me by my name while we fought.

it’s always ‘lovie’.

but suddenly, i’m ‘y/n’.

i lower myself onto my butt on the mattress. tears are streaming down my cheeks and i try to wipe them away before Jack can see them.

“now you’re gonna cry?” he lowers himself onto the bed and i push myself off of it in order to gain distance, now standing a couple feet away.

“i quit.” my voice is quiet and surrendered, my words sheltered. i watch as his face drops, lips parting in shock.

“what?” he mumbles, his eyes softening.

i shake my head, letting my tears flow freely now as i round the bed and i head toward the cracked open door.

“where are you going?” he questions, his tone still holding a dash of anger.

“to sleep in Luke’s room.” i reply. he calls after me but his words fall on deaf ears.

i need space.

i don’t bother knocking on Luke’s door, opening it to find him just now sitting down in bed, his hair wet and leftover steam drifting from his en-suite bathroom.

his head snaps over to the door as i close it, and at the sight of my tears, he pats the bed beside him.

a sob racks my chest as i crawl into bed with the boy i look at as a brother. he pulls me into his side, no words spoken between us as he rubs a hand over my hair, letting me cry into his chest and soak his plain white t-shirt.

a muffled cry escapes my lips and he squeezes me tighter, pressing a kiss to my scalp. nothing needs to be said, no words needed to be shared, just quiet shushes and his hand rubbing up and down my back, the other still holding my head tight to his chest in grounding.

i’m not sure how long passes before i cry myself to sleep, Jack’s words echoing on a loop inside my head.

‘you’d think you’d be a bit more grateful.’

***

i’m unsure what time it is when i awake, but Luke is gone from the bed, and the sun peeks through the bedroom window.

i know Luke and Jack have the day off, so if Luke is already up, then i must have slept in later than i usually do.

despite the apparent long sleep, i don’t feel as well rested as i should. my eyes flutter shut for a few moments, but at the sound of the familiar squeal of excitement from my daughter, drifting in through the crack in the door, my eyes fly back open.

i kick my legs free from the tangle of blankets and throw them over the side of the bed, peeling my tired body up off the mattress. i rub my eyes as i walk over to Luke’s bathroom, ignoring the mess amongst the counter and looking in the mirror.

my eyes are still red and puffy from crying, and i turn on the faucet, cupping my hands under the cold running water and splashing it on my face before drying it with the hand towel that’s thrown haphazardly on the counter.

exiting the bathroom and bedroom, i’m immediately met with the sight of El’s smiling face bounding down the hall. her chubby little legs wobble as she runs.

“mama! dada!” she squeals, motioning behind her. a grin overtakes my lips at her excitement.

“yeah? is dada home?” i ask with a laugh as she runs smack into my legs, reaching up with grabby hands.

my heart melts in my chest. for the first time in two weeks, she wants me.

“mama! dada!” she repeats as i hoist her up, lifting her above my head and rejoicing in her giggles.

my eyes are all too soon drawn to my husband at the end of the hall. he stands leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, a faint smile on his lips while my own falls at the sight of him.

our fight replays in my mind; flashes of his red face and his defensive stance. echoes of his harsh tone and his cruel words.

Jack approaches us, leaning down to press a kiss to my lips, but i shift my face, his lips landing on my cheek instead. pulling back, his face falls, hurt shining in his eyes. it hurts me to see him upset, but i can’t bring myself to feel too bad, as i, too, am hurting.

i maneuver around him, padding down the hallway with El in my arms, making my way to the open layout of the living room and kitchen.

Luke is sat on the couch, eyes on his phone while Lilo & Stitch plays on the tv, and i flop down beside him. El crawls into his lap, pushing his phone out of the way and pushing her smiling face into his line of sight. i watch his eyes light up, sliding his phone into his pocket and tickling her sides.

a laugh escapes my lips as he lifts El upside down in front of his face, making her giggle contagiously. but once again, my lips fall back straight as Jack enters the room again.

the day continues like this, living amicably with Jack, but not happily. as the day goes on, the more i reflect on our fight the night prior, and the worse i feel. i was in the wrong. i knew that last night and i know it now.

i know leaving El is hard for him, just as taking care of her without him is hard for me. but my guilt doesn’t erase his words.

i know he didn’t mean it, just as he knows that i didn’t mean mine, but it still hurts. he cut deep. he accused me of being ungrateful, the very same thing he knows my parents called me when i told them i was moving out.

‘you’re so ungrateful. we offered you to keep living with us even after your graduation, and you’d rather move out with your unstable little boyfriend than live with the people who raised you. well, don’t come crawling back to us, we don’t take ungrateful children.’

a lump grows in my throat as i compare the fights. it’s nine at night and Jack is in El’s room, putting her to sleep, Luke long having retired to his own bedroom, leaving me alone on the couch. my knees are pulled up to my chest, my arms hugging them tight, as tears stream down my cheeks.

a small part of me tells me i should apologize. i know if i do, he will too. he already seems to want to move past it.

but the larger part of me says to wait. to let him apologize to me. to make him acknowledge that we fought. instead of brushing past it like it never happened.

Jack strides into the living room, child free, and it’s the first time we’ve really been alone together all day.

i avoid his gaze, rather wiping my tears and averting my eyes to the television, which still plays the credits of The Little Mermaid from our before bedtime movie.

he sighs, taking a seat on the opposite side of the couch. his hand reaches out to graze my leg and i flinch at the soft touch. the larger part of me wins and i rise from the couch, stalking off to our bedroom and away from him.

i quickly change into my pajamas, hoping to be out of the bedroom before he comes in, but i’m not so lucky.

he enters the room as i’m pulling my t-shirt over my head. my t-shirt. not his. he notices this change quickly and shakes his head.

he stands silently, his back leaning against the now closed door as i pull on sweatpants, watching my every move.

i move to the en-suite bathroom when i’m done. making quick work of washing my face and brushing my teeth. when i finally finish with my nightly routine, i head back out to the still blocked bedroom door.

Jack eyes me up and down, and a quick wetting of his lips tells me he’s horny, but i laugh inside at the thought.

does me angry and upset, turn him on? does he really think he has any chance of getting lucky tonight when he hasn’t even apologized?

“can you move?” i huff, crossing my arms.

“where are you going now?” he questions, shaking his head.

“Luke’s room. again.”

“you know we have a bed, right? the one you were in last night before you left me alone in here.” his words twist my heart, but i stand my ground.

“oh, you mean the same bed i was sitting in when you implied that i’m ungrateful and selfish?” i mock, tilting my head.

“lovie.” his tone is defensive enough to let me know that he doesn’t plan on apologizing tonight, so rather than waiting and hoping for Jack to move, i push him aside lightly with my shoulder and slip through the door.

i knock lightly on Luke’s door and it doesn’t take long for him to open it, letting me slip through into the room.

“you guys are still fighting?” Luke asks, shutting the door and walking over to sit on his bed.

“i promise, this is the last time i’ll sleep in your room. if we’re still fighting tomorrow night, i’ll sleep on the couch.” i assure him, crawling up the bed and laying on my side, facing him.

“i don’t have a problem with you sleeping in here, lovie.” he sighs, laying down on his side so that we lay face to face. “i’ve just never seen you guys fight like this, ya know? you guys are usually so in love, it just scares me to see you fight. i want the best for both of you.”

my eyes soften and i raise my hand, running it softly through Luke’s unruly curls.

“Lukey, i’m still madly in love with your brother. one fight isn’t gonna change that.” i tell him. “he said some things that hurt me. i said things that i’m sure hurt him too. but we’ll get through this. we love each other.”

i speak with assurance, but at this point, i’m not sure if i’m reassuring Luke, or myself.

“you should go to sleep, bubs. you have practice in the morning.” i press a kiss to Luke’s forehead before he turns his bedside lamp off and flops down on his side, his back now facing me.

i follow suit, my back facing Luke as i close my eyes and let myself drift to sleep.

***

i’m woken up by little hands smacking my cheeks, immediately followed by the sound of my husbands whispers.

“oh no, El, we don’t smack mommy. we’re gentle.” he tells her softly, and soon after, i feel her open mouth press against my cheek; her version of a kiss.

my eyes flutter open and i’m met by the smiling face of my daughter. she’s held hovering above me by Jack, who seems worried for my reaction.

“hi, baby!” i coo, a smile stretching over my lips as i take her from him. “good morning, beautiful!”

“mama!” she cheers, followed by a steady stream of babbling.

“she woke up a couple hours ago. she was looking for you.” Jack tells me. “i just changed her diaper, and she already ate breakfast, but i noticed she’s been chewing on everything this morning, so i threw a couple of her teething toys in the freezer and she’ll probably want a popsicle soon to sooth her gums.”

i look up at him and nod, acknowledging that i heard him, before i sit up and lay El down on the bed, tickling her tummy and listening to her joyous giggles fill the room.

“Luke and i are off to practice, we’re running late.” he runs his hand over El’s hair, leaning down and kissing her forehead before turning to look at me again. “Luke said he wants to take El to the park after we get back. he said for me to ask you if you can have her dressed and her diaper bag ready for when he and i get back.”

“yeah, i can do that.” i reply and he nods, pushing off the bed and laying a kiss on my own forehead before he leaves the room.

i heave out a sigh, looking down at El, who’s already looking up at me.

“you wanna go take a shower with mommy?” i baby talk, pasting a smile back on my face. she smiles right back, grabbing at my shirt. “yeah, you do. you love showers, don’t you? my little water baby.”

El is all dressed and ready to go when Jack and Luke arrive home, while i stick the last snack into her diaper bag.

“hey, lovie.” Luke chimes, throwing an arm around my shoulder and squeezing my head into his chest. “she ready?”

“mhm! she should be good to go.” i confirm as i push out of his hold, stuffing the bag into his arms instead. “you have the stroller, right?”

“yeah, i’m taking Jack’s car and it’s already in the trunk.” he confirms, slinging the diaper bag over his shoulder and scooping his niece up from where she was already staring up at him by his legs.

“alright, say bye-bye to mommy and daddy!” Luke sings out, waving to us. El copies him, waving her entire arm about in order to wave goodbye, and with that, they’re out the door; leaving Jack and i in silence.

i busy myself by picking up the toys strewn about the living room floor, while Jack unloads the dishwasher. but tension lingers in the air.

maybe i should just apologize.

i hate this feeling.

i hate not being cuddled up with him right now.

we usually spend any El free hours curled up in our bed. napping, watching a movie, talking, or just taking part in general bedroom activities.

but instead, we’re across the room from each other, doing daily household chores and trying hard to avoid the screaming silence between us.

i drop a barbie into the toy box and stand up straight, looking towards my husband, who’s already staring at me with gentle eyes.

“i’m sorry.” i sigh, squeezing my eyes shut, holding my hands to my face. “i hate fighting.”

his hurried footsteps click against the wooden floors, stopping when he gets in front of me. his hands come up to mine, delicately pulling them away from my face before his arms encircle my waist.

“i hate it too.” he whispers, and i know his words hold a double meaning. he hates fighting and he hates leaving.

“i shouldn’t have said the things that i did. i shouldn’t have taken my bad mood out on you.” i let my head bob forward, my forehead laying against his chest. “i was tired, and i was angry at the situation, but not at you. never at you. you’re providing for our family, and i’m so glad that you get to do that by doing something you love.”

he kisses the top of my head, his lips lingering on my scalp.

“i’m sorry too.” he mumbles against me.

“i’m sorry for making it seem like i was mom-shaming you, i should’ve chosen my words more carefully. i’m sorry for making you feel bad. i’m sorry for accusing you of saying i don’t love her, i know that’s not what you were saying. and most of all, i’m sorry for implying that you were ungrateful. you’re not. i know you’re not. i should’ve never implied that you were.

“you’re an amazing mom, lovie. the best i could’ve ever hoped for El. i should’ve been more understanding about how hard it is for you to take care of her alone while i’m gone.”

i peer up at him, my chin still resting on his chest, and give him a pointed look.

“and i’m sorry for not calling you ‘lovie’.” he huffs out through a laugh. the corners of my mouth quirk up and i pull his head down to push our lips together.

my whole body melts even further into his, finally at peace for the first time in over two weeks.

#el!hughes au #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #nhl fic #nhl blurb #nhl imagine #faithlynn’s writings <3

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its-vannah · 2 years

Text

The Great War | Jacaerys x Reader

A/N: Y'all, I'm a member of the Rhaenyra support club and I'm not afraid to show it. She's such a good mother-in-law in this one.

Warnings: Childbirth, pregnancy, war

Midnights Masterlist

Jace had been gone for nearly three months defending his mother's right to the throne. And as much as you admired his determination to defeat the greens and secure Rhaenyra's crown, you couldn't help but feel left behind.

Say a solemn prayer, place a poppy in my hair

You were anxiously awaiting his return, running your hand over your swollen stomach, praying to the Gods that he'd be back for the babe's birth.

That was the night I nearly lost you

He had already escaped capture once, narrowly making it out of the palace with his life. When you had heard the news that he had almost died trying to escape, your heart dropped. No part of this war was safe, none of it easy.

There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair

As much as you knew Jace was doing the right thing at the forefront of the war, you selfishly wished that he would just come home.

Always remember

After pacing your chambers for what felt like eternity, you sat on the edge of the mattress, staring a hole into Jace's side of bed. If you looked hard enough, you could still see the imprint his body made from sleeping there for so long.

I vowed not to cry anymore

Blinking away the tears, you took a deep breath. The Maester had told you to take it easy, especially with all the stress you were ensuring as of late. He warned you that if you weren't more careful, you could lose the babe.

Spineless in my tomb of silence

Sitting in silence, you pressed your hand onto your stomach. Your eyes fluttered shut, and a small smile came to your face. He'll be home soon, you told yourself, He has to.

Uh-huh, sweet dream was over

But when you opened your eyes, you felt more alone than ever.

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

When you woke up a few days later with intenss pain in your abdomen, you knew something was wrong.

Broken and blue, so I called off the troops

You winced as you sat up in bed, clutching your stomach as you screamed for the Maester.

Screamin' from the crypt

It didn't take long for one of your handmaiden's to hear your cries for help, dragging the Maester in behind her as fast as she could.

He took one look at you and knew: you had gone into labor.

The Maester gave you a knowing look, an apologetic smile on his face. Looking up at him, you shook your head, "I can't, not without him."

"You must, Princess," He said, "Your life depends on it."

Your face fell, tears beginning to form in your eyes as your voice cracked, "I can't do this alone."

It was in that moment that the door opened, a woman with long silver hair stepping into your chambers, searching the room until she spotted you.

"My Queen," The Maester bowed in between grabbing towels and linnens to prepare for the birth, "I'm not sure this is the best time to see the Princess."

Rhaenyra turned to face him, continuing to make her way to your side, "I'm here in my son's place, if Princess Y/N will have me."

Maybe it was her

Your heart melted open seeing her, and you nodded, "Stay, please."

Flashes of the battle come back to me in a blur

She sat down beside you, brushing the hair out of your face, "I came as soon as I heard, Y/N. I know what it's like to be alone during birth. I don't wish the feeling upon anyone."

Nodding, you grit your teeth, crying out in pain.

The Queen took your hand, "Take deep breaths, my dear. It'll all be over soon."

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

My knuckles were bruised like violets

The labor lasted forever. Or, that's how it felt to you. Once you stared pushing, you were gripping the headboard so hard, you felt your fingers going numb.

My hand was the one you reached for

But nothing had prepared you for the pain you'd experience when you began pushing. Beads of sweat were running down your face as you squeezed Rhaenyra's hand.

To that bloodshed, crimson clover

Nearly an hour and a half later, you gave one last final push.

Uh-huh, the worst was over

Falling back onto the pillows, your chest heaved as you struggled to catch your breath. But all of that went away when your newborn babe was placed upon your chest, it's soft cries echoing throughout your chambers.

"It's a boy, my princess," The Maester said as he began cleaning you up, "The Prince will most certainly be happy."

I would always be yours

Looking down at your son, you couldn't help but smile, noticing the similarities between him and your husband. They had the same eyes and nose, same lips. In an instant, you realized you loved him more than anything.

Rhaenyra gazed down at her grandson, stroking his small hand with one of her fingers, "He really Jace, doesn't he?"

You nodded, "He does, your grace."

"I'm so proud of you, Y/N. Truly," She said, "I hope he'll return to Dragonstone soon. He has plenty of reason to, after all."

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

After three days, you received word that Jace had defeated the greens in the northern region—a great win for the blacks.

In honor of his victory, he flew home immediately, not wanting to wait another second to meet his son.

Uh-huh, the burning embers

As soon as your chamber doors opened and you saw him step inside, your heart leapt.

I really thought I lost you

Even though you knew he had survived the battle, a small part of you still prepared for the worst. You had toyed with the idea that you had been misinformed, or that he could be hurt on the flight back.

You said I have to trust more freely

But your constant thoughts and questions were put to rest when you saw him.

You lay in bed, your son asleep on your chest after a feeding.

Jace crossed the room, a wide smile on his face as he leaned over the bed, pressing a kiss to your lips.

Pulling away, he pressed another kiss to your temple, "I'm sorry I missed it, my love. I would've done anything to have been here."

'Cause we survived the Great War

You gave him a reassuring smile, "You're here now, that's all that matters. You survived like you promised."

He nodded, looking down at his son, "He favors you, you know?"

"Really?" You questioned, "I believe he looks more like you."

Jace tilt his head, "He has your skin tone, the color of your hair, and the shape of your face."

Looking down at your son, you nodded your head, "Yes, but he has your eyes, nose, and mouth."

With a sigh, Jace agreed, "I suppose he looks like the both of us. But it seems he got my brother's hair."

A soft smile spread across your face upon thinking about Lucerys, "He'll be honored to share something of his Uncle's."

"So, does he have a name?"

You shook your head, "I was waiting for you to return."

Jace bit his bottom lip, "I had an idea, if you're up for it."

"Of course."

"I've had three father figures in my life, as you know. My father, Laenor, my mother's husband, Daemon, and the late Harwin Strong," He explained, "I wanted to honor each of them."

"So what name do you propose?"

He sighed, "That's the problem. I'm not sure how to do it."

So I justified it

"Well, you could take a bit from each of their names," You suggested, "It doesn't have to be their first name. But their last, too."

Jace contemplated it, "Vaemin?"

And maybe it was ego swinging

"You want to name your son Vaemin Velaryon?" You quirked a brow.

He shook his head, "Shall we think of something else?"

It turned into something bigger

"I like Saenor," You said, "It takes the S from the Strong name, the ae from Daemon, and the final three letters from Laenor."

"Saenor Velaryon," Jace repeated, "I believe our son has a name."

You gazed down at your sleeping son, adjusting yourself so you could gently pass him to Jace to hold.

Looked up at me with honor and truth

He took him in his arms, "Saenor Velaryon, first of his name, the future King of Westeros."

The love Jace already had for his son was beyond measurable, as was your love for the two of them. A twinkle in his eye as he rocked Saenor slowly in his arms, you caught his gaze.

I vowed I would always be yours

Smiling up at him, you leaned against his side. For the first time in months, your family was together again.

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 2 years

Note

Hi, can I request an aemond one shot with “bigger than the whole sky” from midnights by Taylor Swift?

The reader is Rhaenys and Corlys’ youngest daughter (same age as Aemond) and Alys Rivers was her maid until she gives the reader moon tea disguising it by putting it in wine or something (knowing the reader is pregnant) and it causes the reader to go into prem labour and Aemond feeds Alys to Vhagar and there’s a happy ending with reader falling pregnant again?

keep sending requests!!

Warning: miscarriage

‘’Aemond!’’ you screamed between grunts of pain from the contractions, hands cradling your slightly swollen stomach. ‘’Aem-Ow! Aemond!’’

You had been perfectly fine all morning up until lunch. You and Haelena had been walking to the gardens for afternoon tea when you felt an excruciating pain in your stomach that had you bending in half. Sweet Haelena tried to get you to sit down, but you felt something dripping down your thigh – blood.

This was your first pregnancy, but you had been by your sister Laena's side when was pregnant with the twins and knew this was a sign you were going into labor.

‘’That is impossible,’’ the maestre said to the midwife. Their backs were to you, but you could hear them clearly. ‘’Your term is far from complete, Lady Y/N. This shouldn't be happening-’’

‘’It’s fucking happening,’’ you snapped at them, then was hit by another contraction. ‘’Can someone get Aemond? Where in hells is my-’’

Aemond had been in the courtyard training for the tourney with Ser Criston when a handmaid came and warned him of you going into premature labor. Forgetting about his training, the prince had put away his sword and ran inside the castle to get to your side. As much as he loved to swing his sword and joust, you were of higher importance to his eyes than the tourney.

‘’Where is she?’’ Aemond was frantic, rushing through the corridors to get to his lady wife.

Just as he walked into your shared bedchamber, another scream of pain left your lips accompanied by a rush of blood coming out between your legs, pushing out clots of blood along with a lump.

A chorus of horrified gasps of the midwives was heard, realizing what had happened. What could have been, would have been, should have been your child, now laid on the floor in a puddle of blood.

Suddenly, you couldn’t breathe. You felt yourself losing any senses of consciousness, in a complete state of shock. You didn’t hear the maester leaving the room to alert the queen of the incident nor acknowledged Aemond coming to your side and wrapping his arms around you.

It was all over now. The baby – fetus, at this stage of the pregnancy – was already dead when it slipped from between your legs and to the stone floor with a rush of blood.

Aemond kneeled on the soiled floor, not caring that there would be blood on his clothes. The handmaids will clean them. Just like you, he was completely defeated and heartbroken. He never felt so beaten as he felt now. He wanted to scream, but what was the use?

Salty tears streamed from your eyes at the sight of the floor.

The following days were the darkest and saddest you had ever lived. You had cried so much tears that there was none left to spill. Your sorrow and pain were inconsolable.

One afternoon, a handmaid other than Alys brought you tea. You were confused why Alys wasn’t the one bringing the tea to your chamber, but you assumed she was busy elsewhere.

You kindly thanked her and took a sip. ‘’This tea tastes different from the one Alys brings to me. Has Maester Orwyle administered a new tea?’’

The handmaiden shook her head. ‘’No, Lady Y/N. This is regular rose tea,’’ she said, not understanding what could be different with the tea. ‘’Should I bring you a new teapot? Perhaps this one hasn’t been made correctly.’’

‘’Rose tea? Alys’s tea tastes of mint and licorice-’’ You interrupted yourself, your stomach churning as you remembered which tea tasted of mint and licorice. Tears filled your eyes. ‘’Could you fetch me Prince Aemond? I need to speak to him about a serious matter.’’

‘’Yes, my lady.’’

The accusation was of grave matter and only based on your suspicions, but you had to tell Aemond. Alys was your personal handmaid. If your suspicion of her poisoning you by giving you moon tea and lying about it being a special brew from the maester turned out to be true, she could be sentenced for treason and murder.

Aemon’s jaw was clenched. ‘’Are you certain?’’

You nodded. ‘’Yes, my love. I’ve been given moon tea before, I know what it tastes like. We can ask Maester Orwyle to be more certain-’’

He believed you. You weren’t malicious enough to be inventing bad things about your handmaids just to get them in trouble.

‘’That won’t be necessary.’’ Rage filled Aemond’s eye.

All he wanted to do was give the traitorous bitch to Vhagar for dinner.

‘’We should tell the queen,’’ you said, making a move to get up only to be guided back against the pillows.

‘’You, rest. I will inform Mother of Alys’s doing.’’

Taglist: @taylordaughter @gillybear17 @liltimmyst @eos-princess @Kaitieskidmore1 @instabull

House of the Dragon/Game of Thrones taglist: @anastasiaxsworld @lollypopcrazylover @fin-never @dkathl @ayamenimthiriel @nerdy4itall @rraindrops @glors3 @beelanie @hc-geralt-23 @sweetybuzz25 @uniquenightsheep @kaywsworld @i-yam-awesome @caspianobsessed @kelssssxd @dilfsarebetterthanyou @missyviolet123 @leakycauldrns @brezzybfan @khaleesihavilliard @vexedvalerie @lollaa-puff @my-dark-prince @chevelledahuman @caspianobsessed @ayamenimthiriel @yor72 @mirandastuckinthe80s @newtsniffles @cleverzonkwombatsludge @justaproudslytherpuff @ren-ni @green-lxght @anginoguera @bubblebuttwade @comicsol1999 @rockerchick05 @baelavelaryonwp @tnu-ree @beccawinter @alexisabirdie @persage @hayleighloatx @kindaslightlyacidic @perdynerd @elsyyie @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen @naty-1001 @xannybabyxx @katiepie67 @kjones375 @moshpot24x @hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler @saturn-sas @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag @wondxrgurl @queenofshinigamis @aerangi @strmborns @astridyoo15 @Wehi02 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @cayleecook38 @yoyopolloobamadaddy @hayleighloatx @vane1999-blog @smptxx @fairyfolkloresposts @yassi-world @todaywasafairytale07 @ESobilal @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @khaleesihavilliard @domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine

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blueicequeen19 · 1 year

Note

Alright I’m in a feral for JJ mood and also in a total domination type of mood.

How about JJ gets back from being stranded, comes home to you sleeping, and wakes you up with his face buried in your pussy 🙈

Maybe some overstimulation because he missed seeing you cum so much he’s determined to make you do it over and over again

Snack Time

Warnings: Somno, oral, rough unprotected sex, over stimulation

All I wanted after a shit fucking day was my girl. I wanted to hold her and fuck her and hold her some more. She’d said she wanted to stay up until I got home but as soon as I pulled into the driveway and saw all the lights off, I knew she was already in bed. Who could blame her? Midnight was too late. It wouldn’t stop me though. I was hard as a rock as I quickly showered off the dirt and grime from the day, my dick already weeping precum just at the thought of her withering beneath me.

I’m barely dried off when I slip under the blanket at the foot of the bed and gently crawl up her body. Her heat washed over me as I trailed my lips and tongue up her thighs until my nose brushed her panties. I press my nose against her slit, tonguing her over her panties. I could smell her arousal as I tug her panties to the side and lap up his clit. She stirs, murmuring softly in her sleep as her legs start to tense up.

I can’t help but grow greedier as I feast on her pussy. I wanted her to wake up. I wanted her sounds and I wanted her to scream my fucking name. I quickly slide two fingers inside her glistening pussy, curling upwards as I suck her clit into my mouth. I hear a muffled breathy moan then the blanket is thrown back as she attempts to sit up.

“What the fuck, J? Is it snack time?” She pants, tugging hard on my hair as I keep sucking her sensitive bud and work my fingers harder. I keep my eyes on hers as she trembles, her bottom lip quivering until her pussy gushes like a flood and she curses loudly.

“That’s one.” I move up her body, slamming my mouth down over hers while she convulses beneath me. My cock nudges against her entrance like a magnet, begging to be buried inside her tight heat.

“Baby.” She pants, threading her fingers through my hair as she spreads her legs wide.

“I had a bad day.” I whisper, guiding my cock inside her and causing us both to moan loudly as she sucks me in deep. I can feel her walls fluttering around me, gripping my dick hard. Her head tips back as she surrenders to me, letting me use her pussy to erase a shitty day. The sloppy wet sounds of our fucking echos in the room mixed with our heavy breathing and groans. I slip her legs over my shoulders, hammering into her harder as she cums again and again. Until we’re both sweating and breathless. My thighs burn but I’m not even close to stopping.

I growl when she plants her hands against my chest, pushing against me as her pussy gets too sensitive.

“JJ, please, I can’t.” She cries, tightening like a steel band on my cock.

“I’m not done.” I thrust harder, faster as her cries turn to sobs. “I’m not done.”

#smutwarning #outer banks smut #jj maybank smut #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #obx2 #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x you #jj obx #rudy pankow

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spicyyy-muffin · 2 years

Text

Emberred Dreams

Warnings Death, torture, blood, gore, she has a nightmare disorder, talks of ptsd and other mental disorders, smoking cigarettes, friends with untold feelings arch.

Ghost x F!Reader

Reader has night terrors, and ghost likes midnight cigarette breaks.

Having night terrors every night wasn't anything new. This life wasn't easy, but it was the one I chose. Not every mission was successful and those ones especially had a hard time leaving my subconscious.

After my first failed mission I learned quickly I couldn't sleep in the same room as my team. The nights I didn't wake myself up screaming, others did.

There was no mental health advocate patting me on the back after witnessing hundreds of innocent's bloody death. And if there was, I probably would have nothing to do with them.

Being vulnerable was a sign of weakness, and everyday was an example that weakness got you killed.

The other guys in 141 were very stoic, never talking about their feelings, never shedding a tear. It was an unspoken rule.

But getting stuck in a warehouse 20 miles from base, meant we were forced to lay low. And that we all had to camp out in the biggest room, one of us staying awake to watch.

Soap laid an extra shirt on the old wooden floors. "I can go first, give you guys the chance to rest."

I spat my sunflower seeds in an empty tin can. "Nah its cool, I can take first watch Soap." Ghost's eyes met mine across the room. With three other highly intelligent men in this room how long would it take before they figured me out?

"Okay."

Ghost, Soap and James lay still on the ground. Even with the constant checks, and knowing we were safe. My thoughts were running at a pace I couldn't peel back.

There was only so long I could stay awake. And the last time I fell asleep around someone, I ended up in the clinic the next morning with an evaluation on whether or not I was capable of being in the field.

There was no way I was going to be sent home because of my stupid nightmares.

Three hours.

I was surveilling the front yard through a small break in the curtain when a hand brushed my shoulder.

"I can take over, get some sleep."

I shook my head at the masked man. "No I'm okay, go back to bed."

His eyes shot between mine and the makeshift bed on the floor. "We have to be awake in a few hours, don't try and be tough, get some sleep sergeant."

I huffed out a quick breath, "I said I'm fine ghost. Go back to bed."

"I wasn't asking."

I propped the rifle against the wall not making eye contact with the stubborn man and turning towards the place he just laid sleeping.

I couldn't put something in my mouth that would be weird. Covering my face wouldn't help. Sleeping on my stomach didn't mask the noise either.

But the exhaustion seeping through my blood wasn't enough to make me stand for the next four hours.

I laid down, putting my mouth in the crook of my elbow. I could feel his eyes burning into me, but I knew he wouldn't ask.

I woke up to cold metal gliding across my thigh. Opening my eyes a man with a dark beard and familiar eyes met me. "Goodmorning sunshine." His mouth moved into a sly grin.

Bringing my arms up to my chest to grab a hidden knife, I noticed the rough rope holding them together. My eyes darted across the room, and the sight made me instantly nauseous.

Soap's throat was ripped out, esophagus on the other side of the room. And ghost.. The man with whom I never told.

Why did I never tell him? A sob was ripped from my chest, "Simon?"

"Dead." The man stood from crouched knees but my eyes didn't leave the blood stained mask of the man I loved.

"It's a shame really. But maybe if you weren't so pathetic and fell asleep they would still be alive."

My vision blurred, tears tickling down my face in their wake.

"He asked me to spare you, take him instead. How heroic?"

He slammed his jagged knife into the plush of my thigh. I cried out. For the physical pain or emotional I wasn't sure.

Ghost's body moved. Eyes blinking open, immidiently my assailant's eyes shot to him.

"Well what do we have here?" He ripped the knife out of me walking over to him.

"Y/n?" Ghost blinked his eyes open, bloodshot using a free hand to grab his head.

"Tch tch tch, young love. How cute." His gun lifted ghost's head up further.

"What a shame it must end."

He cocked his gun pointing it at his temple, my scream's bursting my ear drums.

My body shook. Someone's hands on me pulling me back and forth. "No! Please-" I sobbed thrashing around trying to pull my hands free.

"Ghost! NO! Ghost please-"I shook my head squeezing my eyes shut forcing more tears down my cheeks.

"Wake up darling, please open your eyes."

My eyes shot open, I flew up gripping my knees looking around the room at the three men staring at me with guns in hands ready to attack.

Ghost was the closest, bent over, arms still out. He was the one who woke me up.

I shook my head, grabbing a pack of smokes and a lighter. Fuck I needed some air.

The cold air spoke wonders for wiping the guilt from my conscious.

The wooden stairs creaked under my weight, and again when a second body joined.

We sat in silence for a few minutes until he broke it. "Wanna talk about it?"

I passed the cigarette to him.

"How much did you hear?" He inhaled.

"Not a lot."

I shot my glance to him but he stayed staring at the frosted embers.

"You're so full of shit." My mouth spread into a tiny smile as his shoulders shook from silent laughter.

"Don't report me please." His eyes shot to mine.

"You're dense aren't you sergant?"

He dropped the cigarette to the ground stepping on it before crouching down to my sat figure.

He stared at me before placing his cold hands on my cheeks wiping fresh tears I didn't know were there.

"What's the matter baby?"

I took his wrists in my hands.

"I have feelings for you, I have have feelings for you I need you to know that. Please, I just-" I shook my head, "I just need you to know that I'm so scared-" His lips paused my rambling his other hand sliding through the strands of my hair.

He pulled away resting his masked forehead on mine, I realized he must of pulled it up when I was word vomiting.

"I'm not going anywhere, and Im not gonna let anything happen to you."

We sat in silence for a couple of minutes, kissing me every once in a while. It wasn't until the sun met the horizon and I realized the lap I was curled up in just how long we had been outside.

He mouth was rested next to my ear, hands running down my arms. He took a shaky breath, "I can't say the words I want to. But I feel deeply for you, and I'm not sure anything can change that."

I turned my head placing my lips on his.

"I feel deeply for you too."

He smiled in the crown of my head.

"And if your lips are that pretty I'm not ready to see the rest of your face."

He peppered kisses along my cheek.

"You're cute but when this moment is over, you are gonna tell who that motherfucker was so I can put his severed hands in a display case."

Lmk what you think!

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selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs · 8 months

Text

Midnight call

Self-Aware! BSD Characters x GN! Reader

Description: Because now you are more interested in spending time with BSD Cast in real world, and out of respect to your new friends, you decide to 'left' BSD Fandom or, at least, be very passive in fandom.

Unfortunately, one of your cousin is in a Fandom. And she watched the season 5 finale. And she needs to discuss it with someone.

Set between Sick Day and We will protect you

About Library Incident, mentioned in that post.

Warning: Spoilers for BSD Season 5 finale. OOC. Semi-Crack. English is my second language.

_______

The last few days were hard for you. You need to finish university project. And, because of that, you had some sleepless nights. But, finally, the project was done, and you can finally have your well deserved sleep.

You're curled under the softest blankets. You snuggle against your cuddle partner and drift to sleep.

_______

You were surrounded by a bunch of cats. Fluffy cats were purring, trying to make you pet them. You reach your hand to the black kitten. And then....

RING!!!!!!! RING!!!! RING!!!!

_________

You shove a person, who was cuddling with you, fell down on the floor, jumped up from the floor and, while crashing into anyone and anything possible, ran to the library.

Emergency phone was ringing.

_________

Different people react differently to being suddenly woke up in the middle of the night.

Someone screamed, someone start cursing whoever were calling, someone start running.

The sleeping house became a house of madness in a single moment.

When residents became at least somehow aware of their surroundings, they start moving to the room, where a special emergency phone was.

Soon, house library were full of sleepy people in their pajamas.

You were there first. You, still half asleep, picked up the phone.

"Hello?!"

You were worried. If someone calls in the middle of the night, it either means something bad has happened. Or someone gave birth.

You heard the voice of your cousin. She was sobbing.

"[Y/N]! It is terrible! It's horrible!"

Your cousin was hysterical. You feel chills running down your spine. What happened to cause this reaction?

"[C/N]? What happened? Please, tell me! Are you hurt? Did something happen with your parents? Don't stay silent!"

Your cousin cried.

"FYODOR AND FUKUCHI ARE DEAD!!! AND SIGMA IS IN A COMA!"

You drop the phone. It fell on the table.

You take a step back.

Fyodor and Fukuchi are dead... Sigma is in a coma...

You feel like the world around you shuttered.

Dead...

You lost two friends... Maybe three, if Yosano's ability won't work on Sigma...

This time, forever...

BSD Cast can't go back to their world. This time, you can't bring him back by pulling their cards in Scout.

You were on a verge of a breakdown... You heard someone's steps... This someone hugged you. This someone murmur. This someone sound sleepy.

"Don't cry, Myshonok. I don't know, what happened, but everything is going to be fine..."

Second person carefully squeeze your hand.

"Little Guiding Light, don't cry. Please, tell us, what happened."

...

Wait a second... Myshonok? Little Guiding Light?

You shake your head and looked up. Fyodor was hugging you.

You looked at the person, who was holding your hand.

Fukuchi.

You blinked. Then again. And again.

Sigma... You are cuddling with him tonight...

After a minute search, you noticed Sigma in the crowd.

You looked at the phone.

Then back at Fyodor.

Then at Fukuchi.

Then at Sigma.

Then at the phone again.

You slowly walked towards the table and pick up the phone.

You breathe in and out. Your voice sounded as sweet as honey.

"[C/N]... Darling, care to repeat the last sentence?"

She sobs.

"Fyodor and Fukuchi... are dead! And Sigma is in a coma!"

Your eyes twitch. You stand still.

"[C/N], gave me few minutes. Stay on the phone, please!"

You make sure, that she won't hear your next words and turned to the BSD Cast.

"Quick question. Does anyone from my family knew your true identities?"

Few 'no' were your answer. You glance at the clock.

01:00 am. And you fall asleep after the midnight...

You put the phone on the table and walked closer to Fyodor. You start checking his pulse.

"Um... [Y/N], what are you doing?" Fyodor looked at you, puzzled by your actions.

Your eye twitch. You barely had an hour of sleep, you were sleep-deprived and angry.

"According to my cousin, you and Fukuchi are dead. I am checking if it's true. So far, you are alive and not a hallucination."

A sound of flat collective "what" filled the room. You ignored it.

Fyodor Dostoevsky had pulse.

You grin. Your grin looked a little bit off. You looked a little bit off. Like you were ready to attack.

You suddenly pet Fyodor's cheek and plant a kiss on his chin.

"Good... You are alive."

You finished with Fyodor and moved to Fukuchi. Ouchi was staring at you. He put his hand on your forehead.

"[Y/N], you look... strange. Like you are ready to combust."

You didn't answer, only start checking Fukuchi's pulse.

"And you are alive. Good..."

You booped Fukuchi's nose and kissed him on the cheek. And moved to Sigma.

You stared at him. Check his pulse. Then nodded.

"And you looked alive and not in a coma. Good... Great..."

You rub your face on Sigma's chest and kiss his nose. You walked towards the bookshelves.

You pick up one book and carry it to the table. Then you walked in the different part of the library.

When you were far away, Sigma spoke.

"Has anyone understand, what happened right now?"

Yosano, who opened her phone, answered.

"Season 5 finale of our show aired a few hours ago. It seems, that Fyodor, Fukuchi, and, maybe, Sigma died at the end."

BSD Gang looked at each other. Atsushi spoke.

"I have a proposition. Let's not held it against [Y/N], if they called us fictional. In that situation, they would be right."

A choir of 'yes' was his answer.

You were back. You were carrying a heavy bronze bust of this world Fyodor Dostoevsky.

You got a big collection of writers bust from your uncle as a present. They were a nice decoration for a library.

You put bronze Dostoevsky on the table. Then you growl.

"Guys.... I am sleep-deprived and angry. I apologize in advance for my next actions or words."

You didn't wait for their answer and pick up the phone. You accidentally put it on a speaker.

"[C/N], you are a slowpoke."

"What?!" her voice sounded squeaky.

You opened the book.

"Fukuchi Ouchi was born 182 years ago... People don't live for that long... As for Fyodor Dostoevsky..."

You check a date on the bottom of the bronze bust.

"He was born 202 years ago. People don't live for that long, either."

You breathe in and out.

"You kind of missed the news for a few years."

[C/N] sounds offended.

"[Y/N], I was talking about BSD..."

You lean on Bronze Dostoevsky.

"[C/N], when I gave you this phone number, I did this, so you can call me in case of an emergency. Yes... Death is an emergency... But... You should call only if the person who died is someone close to our family, we need to identify the body, go to the hospital, or need to pay for the funeral."

[C/N] whine.

"B-but... Fyodor... Sigma... Fukuchi..."

You try your best not to shout.

"[C/N], what do you want me to do? Call the police? Or an ambulance?"

"I... I..."

You sighed.

"[C/N]... I get it, you are upset. But, please, don't call me in the middle of the night without reason. You could discuss last episode online."

The phone was silent. Then [C/N] spoke again.

"You are right. I am sorry, [Y/N]. Good night."

The call ended.

You yawn and start walking to your room. You were too tired to move the Bronze Dostoevsky back to its place and decide to left it on the table.

"Sorry everyone and good night."

Slowly all of you go to your rooms. The house was quiet again.

______

You were on the beach. The sun was shining, the sea was warm. You and BSD gang were having fun. You were ready to dive into the sea...

RING!!!!!!! RING!!!! RING!!!!

_____

You almost ripped the Library door off its hinders.

The library once again were swarmed by everyone, who lived in the house.

You pick up the phone, accidentally putting it on speaker.

"What?!"

It was [C/N] again.

"[Y/N], mom said that I should call you and apologize for waking you up..."

You lost consciousness for a few seconds... You feel like you grabbed something and hit the table with this something with all your might.

You heard the loud crack.

You shake your head. You were holding Dostoevsky's bust. There was a crack on the table. And the speaker button on the phone was stuck.

BSD Characters took a step back from you. They looked worried.

[C/N] whined.

"What..."

"Dostoevsky's bronze bust. Now I need a new table." You sounded dead. "By the way. I knew where you live, and I have a car."

You breathe in.

"If you call me in the middle of the night again. I will go to your house. Then I will lobotomize you with my fingernails."

[C/N] gulped.

"I... I... Good Night."

The call ended. The room was quiet.

You put Bronze Dostoevsky back on the table. You unplug the phone.

"Should have done it earlier. The broken table and phone will add character to the room."

You left the room on wobbly legs.

You make few steps outside the library and fell down on the floor and start snoring.

______

This day, BSD Gang learn an important lesson. Sleep-deprived, you are a force to recon with.

They decide not to replace the table and phone. They do add character to the library.

#self-awareau #self-awarebsd #bungou stray dogs au #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd anime #bsd x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader

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hiddenwritingsintheworld · 10 months

Text

Cruel Summer Chapter 1 (Chris Evans x Actress/Singer!Reader)

(Okay, So Ive been away for a hot minute. And I've been through quite a bit. But I got inspired to write this and I hope yall love it!! Couple of things. 1.) Taylor Swift doesnt exist in this series, the reader is like taylor swift! 2) dont come for me, I've been chewing on this idea for a few months now lol. 3.) Im almost done with chapter 1 of My Alpha, I know I've gotten some messages about that!! Also, half way through chapter 2 of Midnight rain ;) Enjoy! Let me know your thoughts on this!! love you guys!!!)

Thoughts? Suggestions? General opinion wanted here!!!!!

You’d be delusional to think that he wanted anything more than hookups with you. Being a movie star was hard enough to make a “normal” life ...falling in love with your co-star though...that made everything even worse. That’s what led you to becoming a world famous pop star, releasing smash hit after smash hit. Your smile; when up on that stage, tens of thousands of fans screaming your songs as you sang them, standing ovations, tears of happiness, excitement, thrill, it all made that heartache ease just a little bit. But not all the way.

“Tonight is a HUGE night, I can’t believe you’re going to announce another album. I’m in awe, really I am.” Your mom said, grabbing your shoulders and looking at you in the mirror of the room you were currently using backstage. “Mom, thanks so much for traveling with me during this tour. It means so much to me.” you smiled softly at her, “especially after everything I’ve been through recently. Wanna know the surprise songs tonight? Or just be surprised like everyone else?” you asked with a soft laugh.

Your mom and dad were your biggest and best fans you could have ever asked for. Even during the worst time of your life, you’d had your parents support when changing careers. “Awe, let me be surprised like everyone else dear. Your cue is up….come on,” she gave you a big hug and kissed your cheek. “You’re going to be amazing, just like every other night” she beamed before walking out of your dressing room.

You stared in the mirror, touching up your red lipstick before turning around and walking out. Your bejeweled bodysuit in the colors of your most favorite album you’d put out, pinks and blues. You smiled at the stage crew and everyone working behind the scenes as you walked with your assistant. “Another great sold out crowd out there, the VIP tent is dead center, lots of celebrities are here tonight too.” She smiled before you walked away standing on your mark.

Listening to the entrance music you’d had custom made, caused the memories to flood your mind.

You looked over at him grinning as you both reached for a piece of popcorn. “Soooo I thought you wanted to do something else when you asked me to come to your hotel room 10:30 at night.” you smirked as he laughed, throwing his head back. “While yes, I’d love to do that too….I figured it would be nice to watch a movie or two, enjoy a snack and relax together too. I ordered some wine and chocolate covered strawberries too.” he said leaning closer to you, as you bit your lip leaning into him, letting his lips brush yours. The next thing you knew, he had you pinned to the bed, popcorn littering the floor as he kissed down your neck, slowly pushing your shirt off and attacking your chest.

“Ready? Have fun!!” Your assistant shouted over the music and screaming fans as the platform started to bring you up from under the stage. You plastered a grin on your lips and got in your stance with your mic.

The moment your back up dancers pulled back the large fabric fans to reveal you, you began to sing one of your songs. The roar of screams, cheers and cries erupted throughout the entire stadium as you came into sight for everyone. The platform continued to rise as you sang, smiling at everyone.

“It's you and me, that's my whole world

They whisper in the hallway, "She's a bad, bad girl"

Oh, I just thought you should know (you should know)

It's you and me, there's nothing like this (like this)

Miss Americana and The Heartbreak Prince (okay)

We're so sad, we paint the town blue (paint it blue)

Voted most likely to run away with you.”

The music ended as everyone cheered even louder and you laughed softly, the platform lowering back to the mainstage level; you grinned as the next song began instantly. You loved performing for a crowd, they never made you feel like you weren’t worth the love and attention. You strut toward the front of the stage, beginning to sing the bridge, along with the crowd, when a sight almost threw you off your performance. He stood there in the VIP tent with a cold beer in one hand, his other arm around the shoulders of a petite brunette.

“I'm drunk in the back of the car

And I cried like a baby coming home from the bar (oh)

Said, "I'm fine, " but it wasn't true

I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you

And I snuck in through the garden gate

Every night that summer just to seal my fate (oh)

And I screamed for whatever it's worth

"I love you, " ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?

He looks up grinning like a devil”

You belt out the bridge, the crowd screaming louder toward the end. You tried to not to look at the VIP tent, the urge to see him again, standing there happy with some other girl, you danced around, happily grinning at the crowd, encouraging them to sing along. You finally took a break, smiling wide as everyone clapped and cheered. “Hi!” you said cheerfully. “My name is Y/N and welcome to The Eras Tour,” you grinned as the stadium erupted again.

“I just want to say thank you to everyone who is here tonight and I hope that I don’t disappoint. I usually perform only two surprise songs a night, however, I’m feeling…fun tonight, so I want to add another song to the list for you all. It’s one that I don't usually perform live. But, I hope you enjoy it.” you smiled as the platform rose and you looked around, the soft jazz music starting as loud cheers erupted. You couldn't stop the smile that landed on your face as you began to sing.

“We were crazy to think

Crazy to think that this could work

Remember how I said I'd die for you?

We were stupid to jump

In the ocean separating us

Remember how I'd fly to you?

And I can't talk to you when you're like this

Staring out the window like I'm not your favorite town

I'm New York City

I still do it for you, babe

They all warned us about times like this

They say the road gets hard and you get lost when you're led by blind faith

Blind faith”

You smiled looking around, your eyes landed on him again, he had a look in his eyes, just like how he used to look at you, hunger and desperation for your touch. You put your lips back up to the microphone and made eye contact with him again.

“But we might just get away with it

Religion's in your lips

Even if it's a false god

We'd still worship

We might just get away with it

The altar is my hips

Even if it's a false god

We'd still worship this love

I know heaven's a thing

I go there when you touch me

Honey hell is when I fight with you”

You didn’t mean to stare for so long, but the way he looked at you, watching your body move. You wanted to jump off stage and run into his arms again, kissing him, telling him how in love with him you still were, even after the three years that had passed. You felt a tightness in your chest when the girl turned and kissed his neck, and began to dance with him.

You finished the song not soon after and took a small bow as everyone screamed out. You stood still smiling as the platform began to lower, before diving off to get changed. “I need a minute,” you said as your assistant came up to you. She looked slightly confused as they began to help you into your next outfit. How were you going to continue this concert with him staring at you? You didn’t think you could do it honestly.

“I can’t believe you changed the set list, We’re going to have to cut one of the surprise songs.” You looked at her. “No we can’t but we are changing them tonight.” you said as they did up the back of your dress. “What?! Why!” she gasped. “Chris is here,” you said looking at her as her face fell. “With some girl.” she sighed putting a hand on her head “Jesus fucking Christ……okay. Tell me what you need.” you looked at her again as tears filled your eyes. “I need a fucking minute.” you grabbed the new mic rushing off.

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kimhargreeves · 9 months

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Always Back-William Afton x Reader

Summary: You are looking for another job after struggling financially. You find a help wanted sign to a once famous pizzeria. You set up a meeting with the manager of the place who seems to know you somehow.

(A/N: lately I've been too damn excited for the Fnaf movie and wanted to write something on Matthew Lillard's William Afton character. So be warned on some topics written here. I'll also be writing on Josh Hutchinson's' character of Mike.)

12:00 am

The loud sound of an alarm clock could be heard throughout the house. It's Midnight. My eyes were adjusted from being in the dark room, I remained silent, scared, could feel my heart beating faster every passing minute. Chills ran down my spine when the clock sounded for one last time…

Quietly I stepped out of my bed while holding onto my favorite stuffed plushie, passing through the closet just a few inches away from the front of my bed, immediately I stopped trying to listen for anything, trying to ignore the quiet ticking of the clock above my head.

Slowly I began to make my way over to the door and stopped once more. I hear something, maybe down the hall?

I pressed my ear against it, listening closely. After a couple of seconds I heard something loud. Curiosity got the best of me, quietly I opened the door and tried to see if I could spot anything through the dark hall.

Wait… Something's coming…

I jumped back and pull the door with me as I locked it and pressed my ear against the door again.

I could hear someone coming closer, until it stopped. I began to pant and felt my heart beating faster when I heard a scream coming from down the hall, the cries of a woman, my mother..and the shouting of a man.

Too scared to look again I slowly began to walk backwards while my eyes remained on the door when I could hear footsteps coming down the hall once more.

I jumped but made no sound when the door knob began to move, but it wouldn't open. I looked between my bed and the white closet closest to me. Sliding it open I hid myself inside and quietly closed it back, it was dark making it almost impossible to see now.

Carefully I made my way past a few boxes and draped a blanket over it and myself. I hugged my legs together and held onto my stuffed Foxy plush. I closed my eyes as I began to shake and I cowered myself closer to the corner when I heard the door to my room being unlocked.

The sound of my alarm clock began to blare and without looking at it, I grabbed it and slammed it against the floor making it shatter but the sound wouldn't stop. I groaned as I opened my eyes again and had to turn the thing off.

Once I did, I sat down in bed and began to push my hair away from my face and tried to calm my breathing. It's that same nightmare again.

I got out of my bed and went to get myself ready for the day, making sure to have my shower cold today.

I tied my hair with a few strands falling down my face and got into my car to head to my work for the day.

"Excuse me, where's the horror section?" A woman came over to ask me when she saw me organizing a few dvds and shelves. I pointed out the section and glanced to see the lady looking at a few movies.

Working at a movie store doesn't earn much, but it's the only job I could find. Besides, it was the only job where I could be accepted as well, I used to dye my hair regularly but decided against it since some working places weren't fond of it, the into thing I had were a few ear piercings and one on my eyebrow.

Other than that, I get the boring jobs and have been struggling financially for a while now along with a friend, well, I consider the person a friend since he sometimes comes around with his little sister.

I believe I've heard his name is Mike and the little girl is Abigail.

I wonder if it's just the two of them living together. It must be nice to have a sibling or a family member to look after.

My thoughts were interrupted when the same lady from earlier came over to rent a movie. Who even rents movies anymore? People might ask and I do at certain times, but I do miss a few things I got to experience in my childhood..like…

I turned my head and saw a flier taped against the shops window. I looked around and saw there were no customers, it wasn't here early when I came in. I walked up the window read what was displayed on it

"Help Wanted. Security guard to work at Freddy's Pizzeria. No background check needed. For more information call this number…"

I furrowed my eyebrows looking at the paper, I grabbed it off from the window and took it back with me inside.

Freddy's Pizzeria. Now that's a name I haven't heard in over ten years.

Would it hurt to take another side job. Being a security guard isn't that hard after all, just losing a few hours of sleep and being alone for the night. I grabbed the work phone and began to dial the number on the paper sheet.

While the phone continued to ring I had my eyes on the pizzerias mascots, until finally the phone was picked up

"Hello? I'm calling about the night security guard. I'd like to apply for the job."

Right after my shift ended from work I immediately drove up to the pizzeria. It was almost in the middle of nowhere, the family friendly restaurant wad almost abandoned now.

I stepped out of my car and saw the pizzerias sign wasn't even over the restaurant anymore, but on the floor almost in ruin.

"Wow..this place became a shit hole." I mutter under my breathe and placed my keys inside my pockets.

Slowly I began to take steps closer to the building and saw how chipped the walls seemed and I remembered this place being so bright and full of life.

"Hello?" I knocked on the door and waited a couple of minutes but no one responded. I sighed loudly and began to pull onto the door until it opened and I stepped inside.

"Let's all sing happy birthday to the special birthday girl!"

Confetti rainbow colored filled the room with tons of party hats, balloons and presents. All the kids cheered including myself when the animatronics appeared onstage.

Freddy, Chica, and Bonnie. Including Foxy who was on pirate cove.

Everyone in my class was invited to my party, not that I was close to any of them. All of them were too young to understand the bruises on my face or arms so they made fun of me for that.

"So (Y/N), are you liking the day so far?" My mother asked.

I looked up at her and ignored her bruised eye, I nodded my head. "I am."

Of course I was, but I wondered how she got the money to save up and be able to do this birthday for me, since every few times I've come here, the pizzeria doesn't have an open slot for a birthday to be done in here.

I had been playing by myself and with a few kids late on, by the time I returned to my seat I found a single present with my name on it. My mother said that it wasn't from her.

Looking back to my left I remembered the memories of my birthday and the exact spot I was seated. All my mother ever told me was that my birthday here was already paid, it was probably paid by each parent in my class.

Next I stared at the stage in front of me. It was covered by a curtain and I really wanted to see what was on the other side.

I began to slowly step forward until I heard footsteps behind me and I screamed and held onto my chest and saw a man in front of me. He quickly stepped back and held his hands ups.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you." The man laughed.

He was older than me that's for sure. Maybe early 50's, he seemed attractive for his age. Though the Dahmer glasses weren't something I was expecting.

"Are you (Y/N) (L/N)?" he asked fixing his glasses and stand up straight.

"Yes! Sorry, yes I am. And you're?"

"Steve Raglan. I'm the manager at Freddy's Pizzeria. Please let's step into my office do I can further explain things to you."

I did as told and began to follow the man. We made it to his office and I could see his name written on the desk as well when he went to sit on the other side.

We each took our seats and I saw him take out a notebook and began to write on it. "Alright, (Y/N). Tell me a bit about yourself, why do you want the job?"

"I thought the paper said there was no need of a background check." I joked and saw that he wasn't smiling.

"I'm aware of that but I'm just making sure that you'll be perfect for the job without any sort of problems. We can't let any stranger in here, what if I were to hire a murderer?" Steve chuckled once and tapped his pen again.

"Right..umm. I'm just interested in the money if I'm honest. Are you planning on reopening the restaurant soon?"

Steve seemed to think about it for a few seconds. "Of course. I would love to see the place filled with joy again and the laughter of children most of all."

"You are right. Thinking hard about it, it would be nice for a new generation of kids to experience Freddy's Pizzeria."

This seemed to interest Steve. "You would come here often?"

"Not that much, only whenever a classmate of mine would decide to spend their birthday here. I really enjoyed it here and seeing the animatronics. Foxy was my favorite." I tell him.

He hums and continues to take notes. "You do seem like a Foxy fanatic to me." He jokes and I smirk back.

"What would yours be? Freddy?

Steve shakes his head a bit. "Something like that. Let's say it's a rabbit…" He says smiling a bit. He places the pen down and folds his hands together now looking back at me.

"I think I've seen you at the mall. You work at a movie store, correct?"

"So now you're a stalker." I question feeling just a bit weirded out by it.

"I'm a busy man to be doing such things. I've just visited the place once and if I'm not mistaken, you look like one of the girls working there."

I nod my head once and crossed my arms over my chest. "I'm not quite hard to miss either. Yes I do work there. If I'm able to get this second job, I'll surely move into a nicer place."

He raised an eyebrow. "Second one? Don't your parents help you out?"

"My mom only cares to contact with me if I have money to help her out. And about my dad, well I never met the man. I did have a stepdad but he's not important." I simply tell him not to say anymore or remember the past.

Steve Raglan looked at his wrist watch and then back at me. "Miss (Y/N). I can't say you're hired right away since there's another person who contacted me right when you came in. Let's make this fun. You and this other person will stay for the night and we'll see which one can handle it."

"Which one can survive the night." He smiled.

"I'm willing to work extra hours if it means that I'll have the job." I said standing up and he did the same.

He held his hand out for a handshake. "Then I'm looking forward to see who wins. Now, follow me I'll be handing out your uniform."

I smiled at Steve and began to follow him over to the storage area. I sniffed the air and it wasn't a quite pleasant smell, but I decided not to comment on it. It was kinda dark but I could see a Bonnie head on the far corner and a few other items.

"I want you here at 12 o'clock sharp. No delays." Steve said handing me my uniform and a few more things.

Looking up at the man I nodded my head again and smiled. "Of course, Sir." I tell him and could've sworn I saw his expression change a bit.

"Great. I hope you and your partner will get along. I look forward to seeing your progress." Steve said guiding back to the main entrance. With a quick goodbye, Steve closed the doors behind him leaving me alone outside.

I started going back into my car and looked at Freddy's Pizzeria. My new job. Let's see what's do complicated about this job.

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #blumhouse #five nights at freddy's x reader #matthew lillard #william afton #fnaf movie #steve raglan #springtrap

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alchemax-genetics-division · 11 months

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The Parenting Habits of one Miguel O'Hara

Continuation of Sleeping Habits || Peter B Parker x Miguel O'Hara || Gen

This is for my beloved wife @virgo-dream, who begged me to write Daddy!Miguel (no, not like that, get your mind out of the gutter). Beloved, I hope you enjoy this when you wake up (and if I don't get the chance to tell you before you read this, I hope you had a wonderful night's sleep)! I love you, my dear, and I hope this lives up to your expectations! For everyone else, I also hope you enjoy this continuation!

Peter had, perhaps innocently, perhaps idiotically, assumed that he had learned everything there was to learn about Miguel O'Hara. It had been months since he had unearthed (and kept) the secret of his sleeping habits, animalistic and clingy as they were, and they had fallen into somewhat of a routine since then. More often than not, Peter would crash at HQ, falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, only woken by the cries of his daughter or his boyfriend falling into bed on top of him. The latter was far more easily rectified than the former; indeed, the latter required no rectification at all, simply a pair of arms to wrap Miguel in and the work of a moment to slip back into unconsciousness.

Mayday's midnight screaming, however, was more difficult to deal with. MJ had always been better at quieting their daughter back down; it was almost magic the way she could weave a calming story within moments, leaving a soundly-sleeping Mayday in her crib mere minutes later. Peter had never had such luck. He tried singing (badly, which seemed to do more harm than good), reading stories (including the voices, which delighted Mayday, but didn't exactly put her in a sleeping mood), and pacing the tiny length of his living quarters, rocking her futilely (which only served to make her cry harder). It had gotten to the point where, on nights when May was taking up residence in the crib that had been installed in Peter's HQ quarters specifically for her, Peter expected to be woken up by her plaintive cries at least once, sometimes more.

Which was why confusion and panic descended, one after the other in lightning-fast succession, when he woke up one night to complete silence.

At first, his sleep-starved brain struggled to find a reason for his sudden bout of wakefulness. The apartment was still dark, the only light coming from a small nightlight next to Mayday's crib. A quick sweep of the room revealed nothing amiss; his and Miguel's spider-suits slung over the back of the single chair, right where they had left them; the door's deadbolt still locked in place, a lock that had no doubt been picked by Miguel when he had joined Peter and Mayday in their tiny sanctuary hours ago.

Miguel.

Miguel was missing.

As soon as he noticed it, he kicked himself for not noticing sooner. Miguel was conspicuously absent and Peter suddenly felt chillingly bereft. Adrenaline flooded his veins and he threw off his blanket, still warm from the radiator he called his boyfriend, and sprung out of bed. His racing heart was thunder in the quiet apartment, punctuated only by the rasp of his breath echoing in his own head.

"Shhh."

The hushing sound, long and low and oddly ominous, cut through the noise and Peter honed in on the dark shape looming in the corner next to Mayday's crib.

The dark shape looming in the corner holding his daughter.

The figure's legs were cast in subtle blue light courtesy of the nightlight, and Peter could make out a pair of arms cradling Mayday's tiny body. The figure was staring down at her, head tilted just so, angled so that Peter couldn't see any defining features. Immediately, his heart kicked up again, every paternal instinct woven through his very being screaming to rescue his daughter from the arms of the intruder. He took two bounding steps, web slingers at the ready to restrain the stranger in his bedroom, his muscles bunching in anticipation of a fight.

And then the stranger turned, lifting his head, and Peter found himself face to face with Miguel.

"Peter?"

"Miguel," Peter breathed, lightheaded with relief and the knowledge that he had been mere milliseconds away from attacking his own boyfriend.

"What's wrong, Peter?"

"Nothing," he said, "I just thought-"

His gaze flicked down to Mayday as she twisted in Miguel's arms, undoubtedly seeking out the same warmth that Peter himself gravitated towards and Miguel's eyes followed the movement. His nostrils flared, no doubt smelling the adrenaline and panic that was washing off of Peter in waves and realization dawned on his face, his softly glowing eyes widening in alarm at the implications.

They both opened their mouths at the same time, quick to attempt to clarify the situation.

"Mig, I'm so sorry, I didn't-"

"No, it's okay, Pete, I shouldn't have-"

Silence descended and Peter sank into the chair, exhaustion suddenly catching up to him. He relaxed infinitesimally at the warm, heavy hand that came to a rest on his shoulder. He glanced up into the soft face of his boyfriend, a love-swathed expression that always made him weak at the knees. Few had ever seen Miguel so tender, so warm, and Peter was always achingly aware of the fact that Miguel's trust wasn't easily earned.

"I'm sorry," he said, because he still felt horrible for nearly jumping his own boyfriend in an instinct-driven panic, but Miguel shook his head slightly, a lock of hair falling across his forehead at the movement.

"Peter, I was once a father too. I understand. God knows what I would've done if I had ever seen a large figure standing over Gabriella's bed in the middle of the night. Even my own brother wouldn't have survived it."

"Hey, I like your large figure," Peter protested half-heartedly, picking at the easiest thread. Miguel only snorted softly in response. By now, he was used to Peter's humor-laced avoidance.

"What happened?" Peter asked, after a beat. His pulse and breathing were slowly calming, gentled by the quiet peace that suffused through the room and Miguel's solid, pacifying presence.

"She started to fuss, a couple of hours after I got here," Miguel said softly. "I didn't want her to wake you up, so I got up to-"

At that moment, Mayday wriggled in the crook of Miguel's arm, scrunched up her eyes and puffy cheeks, opened her tiny mouth, and let out a piercing wail.

"Fuck," Peter swore without heat. "I have a bottle around here somewhere-"

"She's already been fed," Miguel said. "I think she wants you."

He held her out, his massive hands cradling her body as gently as a live landmine, and Peter's heart flipped in his chest.

"No," he protested, "I've never been good at quieting her, MJ's always the one who gets her back to sleep. If you give her to me, we'll all be up for hours."

"Hours?" Miguel exclaimed. "She settled down right away earlier."

"Well, keep doing whatever you were doing, Magic Mike."

"I was just singing," he said, tucking Mayday back against his chest.

"Then she likes your singing a lot better than mine," Peter chuckled, "because my singing only makes her cry harder."

Miguel shot Peter a disbelieving look before returning his attention to the child in his arms. He dwarfed her, and the size difference between them would've been comical if not for the adoration on Miguel's face as he gazed down at her. Then, he opened his mouth, and Peter was suddenly very glad to be sitting down, because the sound that dropped from Miguel's lips would've brought him to his knees.

Miguel's singing voice was one of the most gorgeous things Peter had ever heard. It was at once so similar and yet so different from his normal speaking voice, soft and throaty, and Peter's heart spasmed in his chest, as if it were trying to escape the bone bars of his ribs, trying to get as close to the love of his life as possible. He watched as Miguel started swaying from side to side, still crooning in subdued Spanish. Mayday quieted almost immediately, which would've allowed Peter to pick out the words if he had spoken a lick of Spanish. Instead, he simply admired the way his boyfriend's lips curled around the unfamiliar syllables, the way his boyfriend's eyes softened impossibly as he gazed down at his daughter, the way his boyfriend's hand cupped Mayday's head of wild curls in his palm, as gentle as morning light.

Dos oruguitas enamoradas Pasan sus noches y madrugadas Llenas de hambre Siguen andando y navegando un mundo Que cambia y sigue cambiando Navegando un mundo Que cambia y sigue cambiando

By the end of the third stanza, Mayday had fallen back into silence and by the sixth, she had fallen back into deep sleep. Peter, too, had nodded off several times during Miguel's quiet performance and when he tapered off, letting his voice ease back to quietude, Peter blinked up at him with sleepy, half-lidded eyes. He watched Miguel place Mayday back into her crib, impossibly delicate.

"You always were," he whispered, nearly a soundless breath. Miguel set an adorable confused gaze on him, exhaustion pulling at his features. "You said you had been a father once," Peter clarified. "But you always were. And as long as you stick around, you'll always be Mayday's dad."

Miguel's face cracked open in shock, his lips parting and his eyebrows raising of their own accord. Peter wordlessly raised an arm, an invitation, or maybe a demand. Either way, he got what he wanted, because Miguel took his hand and pulled him out of the chair and towards their bed, instantaneously wrapping him in a vice grip.

"What was the song about?" Peter used precious breath to ask.

"Us," Miguel mumbled, reverently, into the crook of his neck, and the remaining air in Peter's lungs left in a whoosh. Even as Miguel relaxed against him, his breath evening into the rhythm of sleep, Peter stayed awake, his mind racing, his chest fit to burst with the love contained within the confines of his ribs.

He had, perhaps innocently, perhaps idiotically, assumed that he had learned everything there was to learn about Miguel O'Hara. But as he ran his hand along his sleeping boyfriend's spine, rucking up his shirt, making him snuggle impossibly closer, he knew that Miguel had a lifetime of surprises, and Peter would gladly spend the rest of his lifetime discovering them.

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Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!

Just as before, if you would like to show your support via kudos/comments, this chapter is posted on AO3 here!

#across the spiderverse #spider-verse #spiderdads #miguel o'hara #peter b parker #peter b parker x miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x peter b parker #spiderman 2099 #fluff #domestic fluff #Miguel O'Hara is a good dad #Peter B Parker is a good dad #just a couple of spidermen being good dads #mayday parker #coparenting #probably out of character but i don’t care #slightly canon compliant

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