#i am rocking back and forth wailing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

strayingawayy · 4 months ago

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midnight melodies

...where a droopy eyed jisung lulls his crying baby girl to sleep

it was 3 am, and han jisung was starting to lose his grip on reality. in his arms, their newborn daughter was wailing at the top of her tiny lungs, and he, half-asleep, was desperate for anything to calm her down.

“okay... okay,” he muttered, bouncing her gently. “you’re just... hungry, right? yeah, that’s it.”

she screamed louder in protest.

“alright, alright,” he said, rocking back and forth. “no food. no bottle. what do you want, sweet girl?”

she stared up at him, her tiny fists clenched, as if mocking him.

jisung took a deep breath, glancing around the nursery like it held all the answers. he spotted her han quokka plushie on the shelf and grabbed it. “okay, quokka, let’s try you.”

he held it up to her, but she screamed even louder.

"aish. so you're rejecting daddy and daddy in animal form too huh?," he said with a tired laugh. "huh ...maybe something... softer."

his mind was a blur. but then, it hit him. a song. he could sing her to sleep. he was han jisung, after all. how hard could it be?

taking a deep breath, he started softly, his voice still a little hoarse from lack of sleep.

“you are my sunshine, my only sunshine…” he sang, his tone gentle and shaky and accent prominent but soft.

the baby hiccupped mid-cry and paused for a brief moment, staring up at him with wide eyes.

“you make me happy when skies are grey,” he continued, growing more confident.

her cries had slowed down, and her tiny hand reached up as if to feel the vibrations of his voice.

“you’ll never know dear, how much i love you...” jisung crooned, his voice growing softer as his exhaustion began to catch up to him.

the baby’s eyes fluttered, her little face calming.

jisung grinned, his sleepiness fading as he realized his voice was finally working. "see? told you i was a pro," he whispered to her, though he could barely keep his eyes open.

just then, you walked in, rubbing your eyes and stifling a yawn. "you’re still at it?" you asked, glancing at your daughter, who was now dozing peacefully in jisung’s arms.

jisung, eyes half-closed, smiled triumphantly. “i’m a lullaby legend, love .”

you raised an eyebrow. “uh-huh. you sure it wasn’t just that song?”

jisung blinked, the reality of the situation sinking in. “i mean... yeah. probably.”

you chuckled softly and, feeling the need for a quick snack, went to the kitchen. but when you returned a few minutes later, the sight you saw made you pause in the doorway.

there was jisung, curled up in the crib with their baby girl, both fast asleep. he’d somehow managed to fit himself in the small space, one arm around her, his head resting gently on the edge of the crib. his breathing was slow and peaceful, a contented smile on his face. the baby, snug in his arms, had the faintest of smiles on her face as well.

you stepped closer, careful not to wake them, and stood there for a moment, completely taken by the warmth of the scene. the man you loved, the one who had been so anxious earlier, was now completely at ease, his little girl in his arms as if they’d been doing this forever.

you couldn’t help but smile. "well, i guess you are her sunshine too, sweetheart," you whispered to yourself, a soft laugh escaping your lips.

you carefully adjusted the blanket over them and kissed both jisung and your daughter’s foreheads, your heart full of love. then, you whispered, "sleep tight, you two."

and as you left the room, the soft glow of the night and the gentle hum of peace filled the air, your little family finally at rest.

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hazelira · 2 months ago

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moonlight lullabies

♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡

The first cry shattered the quiet night.

You stirred slightly, blinking blearily at the clock—3:12 AM. The baby monitor glowed softly beside the bed, echoing Han’s tiny, hiccuping wails.

Before you could even shift to get up, Heeseung was already moving.

"Go back to sleep, babe," he murmured, voice thick with sleep, pressing a warm kiss to your forehead. "I got him."

You let your eyes flutter shut again, feeling the weight of exhaustion pulling you down, but not before seeing Heeseung’s broad back disappearing into the hallway, his steps quiet but sure.

Heeseung sighed, rubbing his eyes as he pushed open the nursery door.

Han’s tiny face was scrunched in frustration, his little fists curled tightly, legs kicking against the crib mattress.

"Shhh, Han-ah," Heeseung whispered, already scooping his son up with practiced ease. Han’s cries stuttered for a moment, then picked up again in weak little whimpers as Heeseung cradled him close.

"Okay, okay," he soothed, bouncing him gently. "I know, baby. You’re not happy right now, huh?"

Han only responded with a sniffly little hiccup, nuzzling into his dad’s chest, his tiny fingers clutching the fabric of Heeseung’s sleep shirt.

Heeseung sighed, exhaustion clinging to his limbs, but the moment he felt that small weight against him, something deep in his chest melted.

"Guess we’re staying up together now, huh?"

Instead of heading back to bed, Heeseung made his way into the living room, his arms tightening around Han as he rocked him back and forth. The moonlight filtered softly through the curtains, casting a silver glow across the hardwood floor.

Then, without thinking, Heeseung began to hum.

At first, it was a tune without a name—something gentle, soft, almost instinctual—a melody born from a place of pure love and exhaustion. But then, the notes started forming into something familiar.

I wanna hold you, just for a minute…

The lyrics of "Polaroid Love" slipped past his lips in a whisper. His voice was low and tender as he slowly danced in the empty living room, his bare feet gliding across the cool floor.

Han sniffled against his shoulder, still fussy, but his cries had begun to fade into sleepy murmurs.

"You like that one, huh?" Heeseung chuckled softly, adjusting his grip so that Han’s tiny head rested perfectly against his chest. His palm rubbed soothing circles along his son’s back, matching the gentle sway of their movement.

The baby let out a deep sigh, his fingers slowly uncurling from Heeseung’s shirt.

Heeseung smiled.

"I used to sing this song all the time," he murmured, even though Han was too little to understand. "I didn’t know I’d ever sing it to you like this."

He turned in slow, easy steps, letting the soft glow of the streetlights outside bathe them in warmth.

"You know, Han-ah," he whispered, resting his cheek against the top of his son’s head, breathing him in, "one day, when you’re older, I’m gonna teach you how to dance. You’ll be the best little dancer, and all the girls at school will love you."

Han gave a tiny, contented sigh, completely relaxed in his father’s arms now, eyelashes fluttering against his chubby cheeks.

Heeseung smiled, pressing a delicate kiss to his baby’s forehead. His heart swelled with something so big and so overwhelmingly soft that he thought he might burst from it.

"Yeah," he whispered. "But no rush. Right now, you’re still my little baby."

And so, Heeseung kept rocking him under the moonlight, humming softly, dancing like they had all the time in the world.

The warmth of Heeseung’s arms, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and the softness of his quiet humming were enough to lull Han into a deep sleep. His little fingers twitched against his dad’s chest, his breaths coming in slow, even puffs.

Heeseung sighed in relief, shifting his weight slightly so he wouldn’t disturb the peaceful baby nestled in his arms.

"You finally knocked out, huh?" he whispered, smiling as he gently brushed a stray wisp of hair from Han’s forehead.

He turned his head slightly, only to find you standing in the hallway, watching them with a sleepy smile.

"You’re supposed to be sleeping, babe," he murmured, his voice still hushed.

"So are you," you teased, padding toward him. You reached out, gently running your fingers through Han’s soft hair before pressing a kiss to your husband’s shoulder.

Heeseung let out a soft chuckle, his free hand pulling you closer by the waist. "I tried putting him down," he admitted, his lips grazing your temple, "but you know how he is. Stubborn, just like his mama."

You huffed a quiet laugh, shaking your head. "He’s stubborn like you."

"Okay, maybe it’s a little bit of both of us," he conceded with a lazy smirk.

You leaned into him, resting your head against his arm as you both gazed down at Han, so tiny and peaceful in Heeseung’s hold.

"He loves you," you whispered after a moment.

Heeseung felt something tighten in his chest at your words.

It wasn’t like he didn’t already know it—Han had been attached to him from the second he was born, always clinging to his shirt, gripping his fingers, seeking out his warmth before anyone else’s.

But hearing you say it like that—soft, full of love—made it hit even deeper.

He pressed a lingering kiss to Han’s forehead, then another to the top of your head.

"I love him more," he murmured.

You smiled, nudging your nose against his shoulder. "I know you do."

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, wrapped in the quiet hum of the night, a family tucked into each other’s warmth.

Then Heeseung exhaled, tilting his head toward you with a soft grin.

"So, think we should risk putting him down?"

You glanced up at him, amused. "Oh, absolutely not. He’s gonna wake up the second you try."

Heeseung sighed dramatically, adjusting Han’s weight against his chest. "Guess I’m sleeping like this, then."

You giggled, placing your palm over his heart. "You say you wouldn’t hold him forever if you could."

Heeseung’s gaze softened. "You’re right," he admitted, rocking the baby gently. "I would."

And just like that, Han let out a tiny little sigh, his small hand uncurling to rest against Heeseung’s chest.

Your heart melted instantly.

Heeseung smirked. "See? He knows his daddy loves him."

You rolled your eyes playfully, though your smile never left your face. "C’mon, let’s go back to bed. You can keep holding him—I won’t even judge you."

"Wasn’t asking for permission," Heeseung teased, already making his way toward the bedroom, Han cradled securely in his arms.

And as the three of you curled up together beneath the warm covers, you realized something—

Midnight wake-ups, tired eyes, sore arms… none of it mattered.

Because this was home.

Right here, wrapped in Heeseung’s warmth, your son sleeping peacefully between you—

This was precisely where you were meant to be.

The soft glow of the nightlight cast warm shadows across your bedroom walls. The only sound in the room was the quiet rustling of sheets as you and Heeseung climbed into bed—Han still nestled securely in his father’s arms.

Your gaze flickered to the bassinet beside your bed, its plush interior untouched.

"You know," you murmured, barely holding back a smile, "we bought that so he could sleep in it."

Heeseung glanced down at Han, his tiny body still curled into his chest, then back at you with a lazy smirk.

"Yeah, but look at him," he whispered, rubbing slow circles along Han’s back. "He’s comfortable like this. Right, baby?"

Han let out a soft sigh in his sleep as if agreeing, his tiny fingers gripping Heeseung’s shirt tighter.

You shook your head, laughing under your breath. "You’re such a pushover."

"And you’re not?" Heeseung shot back, quirking a brow. "You act like you weren’t just about to let him sleep on you if I hadn’t gotten up first."

You sighed in defeat, rolling onto your side to face them. "Maybe."

Heeseung chuckled, shifting carefully to lean back against the pillows. Han’s little body adjusted instinctively, his chubby cheek pressing against his dad’s chest, warm and safe.

You reached out, running your fingers through Han’s soft hair. "We should at least try putting him in the bassinet," you suggested, even though your heart was already screaming no.

Heeseung scoffed. "Yeah, and have him wake up the second I move?" He shook his head. "Not happening."

You bit back a giggle, watching as Heeseung tilted his head to press a slow, gentle kiss to Han’s forehead.

"Besides," he murmured, "he’s only this little once."

Something in his voice made your heart clench.

Because he was right.

Han would outgrow this phase—these late-night cuddles, how he fit so perfectly in Heeseung’s arms, and how he clung to his daddy like he was in the safest place in the world.

One day, he’d be too big for this.

But right now?

Right now, he was still your tiny baby boy.

You sighed, pressing yourself closer to Heeseung, your hand resting over his as it gently cradled Han.

"Fine," you whispered, smiling as your husband kissed your temple. "He wins tonight."

Heeseung chuckled softly. "He wins every night."

And with that, the three of you drifted off together, wrapped in warmth, love, and peace that only existed in moments like this.

The bassinet would have to wait another night.

requested by: @hecseungx

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berritart · 4 months ago

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thinking abt phone sex with abbyyyy #plz

abby could hear your hitched breathing through the phone, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth.

you were a mess, and she wish she could see how you were right now. the bottom hem of your nightgown held high up by your teeth, your fingers tracing over your clit through your panties. it was definitely a sight.

"need you abby..." you whined through the phone, wanting nothing more than to have your girlfriend between your legs. it was definitely ovulation time for you. you're usually horny but you would always handle it yourself. you never got to the point where you would have to call your girlfriend to get off, especially this early in the morning. it was only 10 am.

"what do you need me to do baby?" she asked, closing her journal. she got up from her desk and got in bed. she wanted all her attention on you, deciding to cut her study session short.

"just talk to me." you slip your hand under your panties, your cold fingers causing you to whimper in your phone. your noises were fucking with abby already. she wishes she was tongue deep in your cunt right now, making her girl feel good. unfortunately the snow gotten worse overnight and the roads unsafe to drive on. the weather was keeping a barrier between you two.

"what's going on in that pretty little head of yours right now?" abby whispers, unbuttoning her jeans. she began playing with the waistband of her boxers, craving a response from you. she waited, only hearing whines full of need. "c'mon baby tell me."

"t-thinking about your fingers..." you draw circles against your clit, jolting from the contact. "how thick they a-are..." you could literally hear abby grinning on the other side of the phone, enjoying every second of your phone call.

abby felt the warmth in the pit of her stomach get worse. she was so close to becoming the state you're in but it's all about you right now. she could hold off for a bit longer but her sweet thing can't. "and what else angel?" you mewl at the pet name, plus the feeling of your finger slipping inside your pussy. it was too much to handle, your teeth basically chewing off your bottom lip. you needed your girlfriend bad.

you lean the phone against your ear, your hand now groping on your tits through the fabric. "mmm... 'n h-how they reach all the right spots..." you gasp, your pointer and thumb pinching your sensitive nipple. "s'much better than mines."

"you wanna know what i'm thinking?" abby says lowly as she palms herself through her boxers. "'m s-so close baby." you borderline wail, your movements getting sloppier and sloppier. "im thinking about having that pretty pussy rocking back and forth on my tongue." abby's hand picks up the pace, her mouth holding back a whimper. "then when she's ready, when i think she's ready, i'll fuck her nice and slow on my strap. how's that sound sweet girl?"

"s-so so good- fuckfuckfuck i'm cumming." your fingers curl in your sopping cunt before pulling out. your climax washes over you violently, your moans and abby's name being suffocated by your pillow.

"there we go...good girl." abby praises, pulling her hand from her boxers and jeans. you try and catch your breath, hard breathing traveling through to the other line. "miss you so bad abby..."

abby checks the state outside, the sun slowly but surely coming out to melt the thick inches of snow. it was definitely going to take a while for all the snow to melt but for abby? at this rate?

"don't worry baby i'll be there soon."

#abby anderson #abby smut #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x reader #abby x you

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pukefactory · 7 days ago

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•☽────✧˖°˖ BRIGHT LIVING ˖°˖✧────☾•

(COMMISSION)

★ Summary: A Compilation Of Headcanons Featuring Salesperson ENA Finding A Ditto

★ Commissioner: @namosaga

★ Character(s): Salesperson ENA (ENA: Dream BBQ), Ditto (Pokémon)

★ Genre: Headcanons, SFW

★ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

★ Image Credits: @ManlyBadassHero on YouTube & @JoelG

☆ It’s discovered in a crack in the structure of a building. ENA kneels beside it, claw slowly reaching for the gelatinous thing blinking up at her like a lost cough drop. “Product sample?” Salesperson ENA chirps, intrigued. “IT’S WET! WHY IS IT WET?!” Meanie side screams, recoiling. The Ditto wiggles. It becomes a triangle. Then a blob. Then ENA. Then two ENAs. The second ENA sticks out its tongue and deflates like a balloon. “I am NOT that squishy.” ENA lies.

☆ Ditto imprints on ENA like a duckling. It refuses to leave her side. No, literally. It turns into her shoe. Her hat. Her shadow. Her conscience. “Excuse me! That’s MINE! I EARNED THAT HAT IN A DEAL WITH A STATUE,” ENA wails. “Great. Now we’re being legally absorbed,” she grumbles, stomping into the desert while Ditto rides her shoulder like a smug, lilac parrot.

☆ They start a business together. “Shapeshifting services!” ENA declares, standing atop a crate. Ditto turns into a blender. A toaster. A suspiciously buff version of ENA holding a tax form. The customers are either terrified or enchanted. “This is a scalable model,” says Salesperson ENA, handing out cards that read “Squish-Based Solutions Inc.” “STOP TURNING INTO THE BOSS. YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING!!” Meanie yells suddenly.

☆ Ditto accidentally morphs into Theodora. ENA panics. “NO! NO-NO-NO! THIS IS SACRED! YOU CAN’T TURN INTO THE GENIE!!” ENA shoves it into a shoebox and duct-tapes it shut. She opens it five minutes later out of guilt. They agree, diplomatically, that Ditto may only become obscure metaphors from now on. Ditto obliges. It becomes “loneliness.” It looks like a half-deflated party balloon with eyes. ENA applauds. “Perfect. Business-ready.”

☆ They bond over shared shapeshifting woes. “I too don’t know who I am half the time,” ENA confesses. Ditto morphs into a cracked mirror and offers itself up like a therapy couch. She lays across it dramatically, whispering about the fractured nature of selfhood and how her hat feels heavier during emotional weather. Ditto, taking this very seriously, becomes a small cloud and rains directly on her.

☆ Ditto mimics ENA’s “salesperson” side a little too well. It begins barking motivational phrases like “Let’s optimize your profit funnel!” and “BLESS YOU FOR YOUR BUSINESS.” The real ENA stares, red side twitching. “…Did it just close a deal?” Meanieis not amused. “YOU DON’T GET TO BE BOTH. PICK A MORAL ALIGNMENT, YOU GOO.”

☆ They play chess. Ditto turns into the chessboard. Then the pieces. Then ENA. Then ENA’s opponent. She loses 12 times in a row. “I HAVE NEVER LOST TO MYSELF!” she shrieks, flipping the board, only to realize she just sent herself flying across the room. Ditto lands in a soft heap, smug. ENA gets revenge by stuffing it in a novelty juice box and drinking loudly next to it. It turns into a lemon.

☆ Ditto tries to mimic ENA’s “green cracked” form once. It instantly regrets it. The fake blood leaks too fast. Its fake mouth won’t stop screaming in reverse. ENA tackles it to the ground and shoves a blanket over its head. “NO! YOU ARE TOO INNOCENT FOR THIS!” She rocks it back and forth, whispering, “This side isn’t for fun. This side is for when you forget how to breathe without apologizing.”

☆ They take a nap together. ENA curls up in the crook of a broken tree, muttering about deadlines and capitalism. Ditto shifts into a weighted blanket with her face on it. She wakes up screaming. “WHO THE HELL IS TOUCHING MY SOUL?!” Ditto blushes (somehow). ENA lets it stay. “…Fine. But don’t mimic my dreams. They’re union-locked.”

☆ When ENA inevitably ends up crying in a telephone booth because she forgot what she was supposed to do and the mannequins won’t stop humming, Ditto doesn’t shapeshift. It just sits beside her. A little pink blob with stubby arms and a smile that doesn’t judge. She looks at it with eyes full of static and says, “You…you remember me when I’m nothing, don’t you?” Ditto blinks. Morphs into a heart. It melts into her lap. She doesn’t push it away.

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amyzworldds · 1 month ago

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hi how are you? I would like to ask if you could write about svt x 14th member like she after an accident (for example) fell into a coma and came to her senses after some time and no one knew about it except for a few people and during the opening of the world tour she effectively appears on stage during the performance of her part and like this surprised the whole world? and the members themselves on stage

I hope I wrote everything clearly (I just used a translator)

Title: Shattered Roads

Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3

Y/N’s solo debut prep silences Seventeen’s dorm, the boys clinging to her cardboard cutout—until a devastating car accident lands her in a coma. Torn between tour duties and despair, they rally for her recovery. Pairing: Seventeen x 14th member Genre: Fluff, Humor

Seventeen had been a ghost town without Y/N. She was still their wild 14th member, but lately, she’d been swallowed by her solo debut prep—a five-song album with one music videos, a whirlwind of late-night recording sessions and choreography plotting. She’d been gone from the dorm for months, only popping in past midnight, a blurry shadow crashing into her room before anyone could catch her. The last song was in the can, and tomorrow, she’d start filming her first MV. But at the dorm? Chaos was on life support without her.

The living room was a scene straight out of a melodrama. DK sat cross-legged beside Y/N’s life-sized cardboard standee—still sporting its smug photoshoot grin—clutching a tissue and fake-sobbing like he’d lost his soulmate. “Hyung, now I get it!” he wailed, throwing an arm around the cutout. “She got this thing so we wouldn’t miss her, but I miss her so much it hurts! Look at me, talking to cardboard like a loser!” Tears (mostly imaginary) streamed down his face as he hugged the standee, rocking back and forth.

Hoshi stumbled in, eyes red from his own fake crying, and dove onto DK, wrapping him in a bear hug. “She’s gone, DK! Gone forever!” he howled, shaking DK like they were in a tragic K-drama. “All we’ve got is this flat Y/N! She’s not even 3D anymore! I can’t hear her yelling at me for leaving my socks on the couch—or see her jumping around like a deranged opera star! I’m in withdrawal!” He flopped onto the floor, clutching DK’s leg, while the standee stared blankly at their meltdown.

The dorm had been too quiet without her chaos. No Y/N screeching, “Vernon, your dishes are a biohazard—clean them!” No off-key belting of random ballads while she spun around the kitchen like a tornado. No dragging Dino into tiktok trends at 3 am or forcing Seungkwan to play the villain in her unhinged mini-dramas (complete with bad wigs she’d ordered online). They’d only catch glimpses of her during group schedules—her laughing with staff, then vanishing—or hear her stumble in late, too tired to cause trouble. The silence was deafening, and they were losing it.

Woozi lounged on the couch, smirking like a smug cat who’d caught the canary. He’d been Y/N’s shadow through her album prep—co-writing, producing, guiding her every step. “You guys are pathetic,” he said, arms crossed, grin wicked. “Me? I’ve been with her the whole time. Heard every note, fixed every lyric. You’re crying over cardboard while I’m living the dream.”

Dino, sprawled nearby, rolled his eyes so hard they nearly fell out. “Oh, shut up, Woozi hyung!” he snapped, tossing a pillow at him. “You’re so smug, acting like you’re her bestie now! You’re the one who used to whine, ‘Y/N, stop singing off-key, my ears are bleeding!’ Hypocrite!”

“Yeah, well, I’m a hero now,” Woozi shot back, dodging the pillow. “She needs me. You’re just jealous you’re stuck with that—” he pointed at the standee—“thing!”

The members had turned the standee into a coping mechanism. Seungcheol had dragged it to the kitchen one night, plopping it at the table with a plate of ramen. “Eat up, Cardboard Y/N,” he’d muttered, half-delirious. “Maybe you’ll turn real and yell at me again.” Mingyu had caught Vernon talking to it��“So, uh, how’s your day?”—like it might answer. Hoshi even tried feeding it a chip, then cried when it didn’t crunch. They were a mess.

That night, past 1 am, Y/N finally dragged herself home, expecting a quiet dorm. Instead, she heard muffled wails from the living room. Peeking around the corner, she saw the full circus: DK and Hoshi on the floor, sobbing into each other’s arms, Seungkwan fake-weeping into a cushion—“She’s never coming back!”—and Joshua muttering to the standee, “Tell her we’re sorry for… uh, whatever we did!” Woozi smirked from the couch, while Dino glared, plotting his next pillow attack.

Y/N’s tired face split into a grin. She tiptoed in, then burst into the room like a sunbeam on steroids, throwing her arms wide. “Surprise, losers! Your sunshine is back!” She strutted to her standee, slapped a hand on its shoulder, and beamed. “See? I told you you’d miss me! This is why I got this baby—to keep you sane! Should I order 13 more? One for each of your rooms? Imagine waking up to my face every day!”

The room went dead silent. Thirteen pairs of eyes stared at her, mid-sob, mid-smirk, mid-pillow-throw. Then, like a switch flipped, they snapped into denial mode.

Hoshi scrambled up, wiping his fake tears. “Who said we missed you?!” he barked, voice cracking. “We were just… uh… practicing for a drama audition! Right, DK?”

“Yeah!” DK yelped, jumping to his feet and brushing off his shirt. “Totally acting! Oscar-worthy stuff! We didn’t miss your yelling or anything!”

Mingyu crossed his arms, sniffing. “Pfft, you think we care? I love the quiet! No one nagging me about dishes—it’s a dream!”

Seungkwan flipped his hair, scoffing. “Exactly! I’ve been sleeping great without you blasting tiktok at 3 am!”

“And I don’t miss your bad singing!” Dino added, glaring, though his lip wobbled. “Not one bit!”

Woozi just shrugged, still smug. “I saw her yesterday, so I’m fine. You guys are the dramatic ones.”

Y/N smirked, hands on her hips, watching them flail. “Oh, really? So, you weren’t just sobbing into my cardboard self like it’s your last lifeline? Dokyeom oppa, your tears are still wet! Hoshi oppa, you’re hugging it right now!”

Hoshi yelped, realizing he’d instinctively grabbed the standee mid-denial, and dropped it like it was on fire. “No, I wasn’t! It hugged me first!”

“It’s cardboard, you idiot!” Seungkwan shouted, smacking his arm.

DK pointed at her, desperate. “We were just… uh… testing its sturdiness! Yeah! Quality control!”

“Sure, and I’m the queen of silence,” Y/N fired back, cackling so hard she nearly fell over. “You guys are terrible liars! Admit it—you missed me so bad you’re talking to a flat version of me!”

“Never!” Mingyu roared, stomping his foot, only to trip over a sock he’d left on the floor—ironic perfection. “Ow! Okay, maybe a little!”

The room erupted—Y/N laughing her head off, the members shouting denials over each other, and the standee toppling onto Hoshi, who screamed, “It’s alive! She’s back to haunt us!” Seungcheol groaned, “I need a vacation,” while Woozi smirked, “Told you she’d win.”

Y/N wiped tears of laughter, grinning like a victorious gremlin. “You’re all stuck with me—and maybe 13 more standees! Night, losers!” She strutted to her room, leaving them in chaos, still yelling over each other about how they “totally didn’t miss her” while secretly plotting to steal the standee back.

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

The sun hadn’t even peeked over the horizon, but Y/N was already up, bleary-eyed and shuffling around the dorm kitchen like a zombie in tiger slippers. Her phone buzzed nonstop on the counter—Manager Kim, blowing up her line with calls and texts: “Y/N, wake up! MV shoot prep starts now!” She groaned, rubbing her eyes, and grabbed a box of cereal, muttering, “Can’t a girl eat in peace?” The rest of Seventeen was still lost in dreamland, snoring through the chaos of her solo debut prep. Five songs, one music videos—she’d been a ghost for months, and today was the big day: filming her first MV.

Seungcheol, the ever-reliable leader, stumbled in, hair a mess but eyes sharp. He spotted Y/N fumbling with the cereal box—half the puffs spilling onto the counter—and ruffled her hair with a sleepy grin. “Morning, troublemaker. You’re up early for once.”

“Blame Managernim,” Y/N grumbled, yawning. “He’s been calling since 4 am I’m basically a corpse right now, Cheol oppa.”

“A corpse who’s about to slay her MV shoot,” he teased, nudging her aside. “Move, I’ll handle this. You’ll starve before you get there.” He poured the cereal, added milk without drowning it (a skill Y/N never mastered), and then pulled out a little bento box from the fridge. “Here—kimbap. The boys made it last night while you were passed out. Figured you’d need fuel.”

Y/N blinked at the neatly packed rolls, seaweed glistening with sesame oil. “You guys made this? For me? When did you even have time?!”

“After you crashed at, like, 2 am,” Seungcheol said, smirking. “Hoshi almost set the kitchen on fire, and Mingyu cried when he cut the carrots wonky, but we pulled it off. Don’t tell them I told you—it’s supposed to be a ‘cool oppa’ surprise.”

“Too late, I’m telling everyone,” Y/N snickered, grabbing a spoon. “This is blackmail material. Hoshi oppa with a fire extinguisher? Gold.”

Seungcheol rolled his eyes but followed her outside, coffee mug in hand, to wait for the manager’s van. The sky was still dark, the air chilly, and Y/N yawned into her hoodie sleeve. When the van pulled up, Seungcheol pulled her into a bear hug. “Good luck, kid. Knock ‘em dead today—we’re proud of you. We’ll swing by later, so don’t slack off.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Y/N mumbled, half-asleep, giving a floppy wave as she climbed in. “See you, Cheol oppa.” She conked out against the window before the van even hit the main road.

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

At the filming location, Y/N sat in the makeup chair, still groggy as the artists dabbed foundation on her face. She clutched her kimbap box like a treasure, suddenly perking up. “Look at this!” she chirped, holding it up to the makeup noona. “My oppas made me kimbap! Handmade! They’re total disasters in the kitchen, but they did it for me! Isn’t that cute?!”

The noona laughed, brushing blush on her cheeks. “That’s adorable! You’ve got 13 big brothers wrapped around your finger.”

“More like 13 clowns,” Y/N grinned, snapping a quick pic of the kimbap—perfectly imperfect rolls with a sticky note that said “Don’t mess up, maknae!” in Seungkwan’s scrawl. She posted it to Weverse with the caption: “Oppas made me food so I don’t die on set. Hoshi-oppa almost burned the dorm down. Send help.” Carats lost it in the comments: “HOSHI WITH A FIRE EXTINGUISHER?? VIDEO OR IT DIDN’T HAPPEN!”

The shoot was a marathon—hours of dancing, posing, and pretending she wasn’t about to collapse. Halfway through a dramatic scene—Y/N mid-spin in a sparkly outfit—the studio doors creaked open. She didn’t notice, too focused on not tripping over her own feet. But behind a stack of props, 13 chaos gremlins lurked, armed with balloons, a bouquet of flowers bigger than Dino’s head, and a lopsided cake with “CONGRATS Y/N, OUR SOLO STAR!” iced in wobbly letters. Vernon held a camera, filming for future content or some future blackmail reel, whispering, “This is gonna be epic.”

The director yelled, “Cut!” and Y/N slumped, panting. “Finally! Can I sit now? My legs are noodles!” Before anyone could answer, the members exploded from their hiding spot like a pack of feral cheerleaders.

“SURPRISE, Y/N-IE!” Hoshi bellowed, leading the charge, balloons bouncing everywhere. He tripped over a cable, nearly face-planting, but recovered with a tiger roar.

DK sprinted in, waving the bouquet like a madman. “OUR MAKNAE’S A SOLO QUEEN! WE BROUGHT FLOWERS!” He shoved them at her, petals flying into her face.

Mingyu held the cake aloft, grinning. “AND CAKE! I DIDN’T BURN IT THIS TIME—WELL, ALMOST, BUT IT’S FINE!”

Y/N yelped as they swarmed her, 13 bodies crashing into a group hug that nearly knocked her over. “WHAT IS HAPPENING?! GUYS, I’M SWEATY—GET OFF!” she screeched, flailing, but her grin betrayed her.

Seungcheol laughed, ruffling her hair again. “We told you we’d come! You think we’d miss your big day? Congrats, kid!”

Woozi smirked, arms crossed. “Yeah, I helped write the songs, but these clowns insisted on this circus. You’re welcome.”

“Shut up, Woozi-hyung!” Dino snapped, shoving him. “You’re not the only hero here! We all forced her to do this solo thing—she kept writing songs and hiding them, so we bullied her into it!”

“Bullied?!” Y/N gasped, swatting him. “You mean you whined, ‘Y/N-ah, you have to debut solo, we already did!’ until I gave in! I was fine being the group chaos agent!”

“And now you’re a chaos star!” Joshua chimed in, handing her a balloon. “We’re proud—also, we miss you yelling at us, so this is selfish too.”

Seungkwan started belting a made-up congratulatory song—“Oh, Y/N, our shining maknae, you dance so great, don’t be late, solo queen supreme!”—and the others joined, off-key and ridiculous. Hoshi added a tiger growl mid-verse, DK harmonized into a screech, and Vernon accidentally popped a balloon, yelping, “MY BAD!” The crew cracked up, filming the madness.

Y/N doubled over, laughing so hard she nearly dropped the cake Mingyu thrust into her hands. “You guys are insane! Balloons? Flowers? This cake looks like it’s melting—did Hoshi-oppa sneeze on it?!”

“I DID NOT!” Hoshi protested, lunging at her. “I ONLY LICKED IT ONCE—KIDDING, KIDDING!”

“You’re disgusting!” she shrieked, shoving him off as the others piled on again, hugging and chanting, “Y/N! Y/N! SOLO STAR!”

Vernon zoomed in with the camera, narrating, “Day 1 of Y/N’s MV shoot: the hyungs lose their minds. Hoshi’s a hazard, Mingyu’s cake’s a crime scene, and Seungkwan’s singing needs a mute button. Cut!”

Manager Kim, watching from the sidelines, cackled. “This is why I love managing you idiots—never a dull moment.”

Y/N wiped laugh-tears, clutching her kimbap box from earlier. “You guys are the worst—and the best. Thanks for this… and the kimbap. I’m not crying, it’s just glitter in my eyes!”

“Sure it is,” Jeonghan teased, pinching her cheek. “Now eat that cake before Mingyu sits on it.”

“I WOULD NOT!” Mingyu roared, only to trip over a balloon string, sending the cake wobbling. “OKAY, MAYBE I WOULD—SAVE IT!”

The shoot wrapped with the members cheering her on, stuffing her with cake, and promising to crash her next filming day too. Y/N grinned, surrounded by her chaotic family, knowing her solo debut was theirs as much as hers—forced or not.

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justwinginglife · 4 months ago

Text

A Trial of Tears and Tails

Sorry this is so random, I came up with this idea and wrote it on my lunch break, haha. Just thought it was so cute and funny.

“Um. My love. Are you fully rested? Could you come here and tell me that it’s not just my lack of sleep making me see things?”

Rafayel poked his head into the bathroom with a towel in hand. “What’s wrong, honey? I got the towel, like you-” He dropped the towel, eyes practically bulging out of his head.

“Okay. So it’s not just me then.”

Giggles erupted from the bathtub beside you as your son busied himself poking soap bubbles, oblivious to the stares of his two parents and oblivious to the fact that where once there had been two little legs, there now emerged a tail. A mermaid tail.

Your breath hitched in your throat. “I mean, it’s cute. It’s super cute. But does he… I mean, did he do it on purpose? Does he even know he did it? Does he know how to control it? Or is he going to keep randomly transforming for the rest of his life? What if he doesn’t know how to change it back? Will he ever walk again?” You started spiraling.

Rafayel rushed to your side, kneeling down beside you at the foot of the tub and pulling you into his arms. “Hey, hey, don’t think too hard; you’ll give yourself a headache. Look at him- he’s fine. He’s happy. I say we just let it play out and see what happens, kay? It’ll be fine.” He repeated again, nuzzling his nose against your ear before leaning up to press a reassuring kiss to your temple.

But soon enough, it was very much not fine.

At first, you both just watched your son. You watched as he splashed around in pure bliss, you watched as his smile spilled across his face and tugged at his rosy cheeks, you watched as he squealed his delight. And you thought to yourself that he’d never been cuter than he was right now. You couldn’t help but pepper him with kisses and he couldn’t help but laugh. Rafayel gazed fondly at the warm sight before him and, wanting to join in on the fun, he soon began tickling your son’s sides.

That was when the trouble started.

In attempts to escape Rafayel’s tickles, your son soon began splashing and squirming, and it was then that he realized he couldn’t just up and run. It was then that he realized that he was now stranded in the tub, bound by his flopping tail. And he didn’t know why the hell he had a tail.

He started crying, screaming, wailing- all manner of devastation and despair arose within him. And it damn near broke Rafayel’s heart.

He immediately moved into a protective stance, trying to console the tearful toddler. He made silly faces, he ruffled his hair, he picked him up and cradled him, rocking him in his arms, whispering that everything would be okay. He pressed kiss upon kiss to his head, like it was a precious ritual, like all would be well once he’d bestowed enough of his love. But it was to no avail.

Rafayel turned to you in desperation; “Help me,” clear in his eyes.

“What am I supposed to do??” You mouthed back to him, taking the crying child from him.

He threw his arms up in frustration, “I dunno- sing him a song, do something, do anything!”

You cleared your throat awkwardly, rocking him back and forth, as you began to sing the first song that came to your mind. “Um… I wanna be… where the people are. I wanna see… wanna see them dancing.”

Rafayel raised a brow at you. “Part of your world? Really? That was the best you could come up with?”

“You said to sing him a song! I thought it kinda… fit the situation?”

Rafayel snorted. “I see it’s going to be up to me to fix this. Alright, give him here; lemme try again.”

After taking him back from you, Rafayel marched his way into the kitchen. You followed behind, curious as to what his next plan of action was.

“Maybe the little guy is just hangry. Some food will cheer him up.” Rafayel started to warm up his steak dinner from last night.

“Raf! He barely has teeth, how is he gonna chew the steak?” You exclaimed.

“Well… maybe I’m hangry too! Maybe the food was for me.” Rafayel grumbled, anxiously chomping on his steak before spoonfeeding some of his mashed potatoes to the kid. Fortunately, it seemed to soothe him for the time being, but the issue of his tail was still to be addressed. How were you going to get him to turn back? You were sure once he finished munching on mashed potatoes that he would remember the tail and then be back to bawling and blubbering in no time at all. And if he cried, Rafayel might just cry. And you couldn’t have that.

So you disappeared into the nursery and came back with his favorite toys, his favorite books, his favorite movies. You spent the next two hours entertaining him, reenacting epic fight scenes between his toy robot and his toy dinosaur, reading to him all manner of fantasy and fiction, and snuggling up beside him as the TV played his favorite movies. He was more doted on than he’d ever been in his single year of living. And he loved it. But he still had the damn tail.

Rafayel suggested yoga and that was when he learned that children were not very flexible. Then he suggested meditation and that was when he learned that children do not sit still long enough for it. He finally settled on teaching the kid to use the tail, and that was when he learned that the age of one was far too young for someone to learn how to swim. The kid retained absolutely none of the information Rafayel so enthusiastically provided.

You knew this was a very serious moment, but it was hard not to laugh when you heard Rafayel’s voice echoing in the bathroom, emphatically declaring, “Now, kick! That’s not a kick, kick! Like this! No, like this! That’s a… that’s something. That’s… getting closer. Nope, never mind, it’s not. Yeah, okay, this is not working.”

Eventually, Rafayel passed out on the couch with the child dozing off in his arms. Your poor husband had exhausted nearly every brain cell in existence trying to solve this issue (so his nap was much deserved), but now, as you watched the two of them fondly, you noticed that peeking out from beneath the blanket, two tiny feet had finally appeared.

You laughed so hard that you almost woke them up when you realized what had happened; he had exhausted the kid back into being a human.

Taglist: @pixelcafe-network @tbaluver @minasfwoopyponytail @ouiouimochi @inkytypewriter

#loveanddeepspace #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace #lads #lads rafayel #l&ds #l&ds rafayel #rafayel l&ds #rafayel x reader #han's library

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 months ago

Text

The House Guest 6

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Summary: an old acquaintance calls in a favour, leaving you with an unexpected house guest.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You yawn as you wrap yourself in a towel. The shower was less refreshing than it was draining. The heat robbed you of the last of your energy.

You listen through the door. It’s a small house. You can hear will beyond even those walls.

You hug your clothes and flit across the hall, leaving a cloud of steam and scent behind you. You shut your bedroom door and sigh. You’re exhausted. It’s only in the that moment that you feel all the tension that’s been nipping away at you.

It isn’t Bucky’s fault. You’re a loner. When someone else is around, you always feel like you have to be on.

You grab your phone. The bars are low. Tomorrow you’ll figure out how you can bitch out Sam, or at least get an answer about how long you can expect your house guest to be around.

You pull on a baggy sweatshirt and pair of flannel pants. You stretch out your neck and stand. You step into your slippers as you approach the door with a shadow of dread. It’s not that you feel unwelcome in your own home, just unsettled.

You let yourself out and leave the door open. You try not to make too much noise as you come down the hall. The front room is dark. You hesitate before you enter the kitchen.

Quietly, you take down a mug and a bag of chamomile. You put the kettle on and hover by the counter. You cross your arms and shiver.

You give a start as you hear a click. You glance over as a shadow enters through the front door. You didn’t even hear him leave. Bucky peeks in as the kitchen lights glare over him and gives a small wave. He takes his time unlacing his boots as he leans a hand on the wall.

“Hey,” he says. “Cold?”

“Just a little. It’ll be winter soon enough,” you bring your hand up to the neck of your shirt and pinch the fabric.

“I’ll be honest, can’t really feel it,” he shrugs. “I can get the fire stove going.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll have my tea and turn up the thermostat,” you assure him, rocking on your feet.

“Right, sounds good,” he taps the door frame and retreats.

The kettle flicks off and you pour the water. You fill the cup and lift it gingerly, careful not to touch the side. You shuffle to the door and turn off the lights. You wade through the gloom, only the glow of the lamp in the front room offering a way forward.

As you pass the wide doorway, your eyes drift over instinctively. Keep going. You quickly hurry back to your room and hide. Again, you caught him in a moment. The muscles of his back weave into your mind and you shake way the vision.

You set the cup down and tuck your feet under the covers. You peer over at the black window panes. Up there, the night is unmetered by civilization. Even when there’s a full moon it’s desolate. The trees rustle and the nocturnal creatures stir.

You nurse your tea over the last chapter of a novel. Eh, not your favourite ending but it makes sense. You shut of the glass lamp and settle down to sleep. Your ears prick in the silence of the house.

Sleep doesn’t come easy and the shell that comes over you is more a dizzy daze. Not quite awake, not quite unconscious. You can still hear the shifting of the house and the steady wailing of the wind. Your eyes ache with fatigue and your head pulses but you just can’t sink into the depth.

Your eyes roll open but your body remains still. Locked and lifeless. Your gaze flicks back and forth. You’re self-aware of the waking coma. Your body and mind are disconnected as you’re trapped between layers of sleep. It happens time and again.

You can see the room clearly but the darkness is rippled. You can sense something looming over you but the dark is so dense, your mind can only summon a twisted fear of the hallucinations. You focus on trying to break the sleep paralysis.

Just a finger. Move your finger. Move. Bend. Anything.

You gasp as you finger twitches and you wake with a jarring lurch. The bed jolts beneath you and your head spin. There’s a weight on your neck. You’re still dreaming?

As you reach to touch the warmth around your throat, it recedes, a tickle along the fabric of your sweatshirt. You whimper and sit up, scrunching yourself up against the headboard. You search the void, squinting as you try to see anything. The floor creaks and you squeak again.

“Hello?” You gulp.

You blink and focus on the soft outline of the door. It’s open. You think. The fuzzy rectangle tests your sanity.

You shimmy to the edge of the bed. That childhood fear of something reaching out from underneath to grab your ankles makes you nervous. You get up and put your arms out. You cross the room a step at a time.

You find the wall and feel along it. You flip on the light switch and back away from the open door. You shut it, didn’t you? Or maybe you got up and don’t remember. It’s all a bit foggy in the hangover of your episode.

The bathroom door opens across from you and you cry out in surprise. Bucky emerges in the shine of light and peeks over at you. You shake your head and cough. He stares back with a confused stitch between his brows. Don’t look at his chest. Don’t think about how he’s shirtless. Again.

“Sorry, I... I just...” you sputter and back up.

You shut your bedroom door and cringe. You leave the light on as you retreat to the bed and bury yourself under the blankets. You know better than to sleep on your back, although you don’t think you’ll be getting much rest after that humiliating display.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #series #drabble #the house guest #winter soldier #mcu #marvel #avengers #captain america

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ssahotchnerr · 1 year ago

Note

i just rewatched the fisher king and all I can think about is Hotch gently rocking jack's stroller as he spoke to Hailey

And it got me thinking what if he did the same with baby Ellie but in less gruesome and stressful moments 💀 like she had been crying for her daddy all day so you decided to take her to see aaron, after making sure he wasn't too busy or anything

And he just has that big smile on his face when he sees you with little Ellie in her stroller, immediately putting his arms out so he can pick up his little girl ��

He keeps her up in his office, away from all the noise and whatnot and just either holds her in his arms while talking to her and doing paperwork (we love multitasking) or just rocking her stroller while talking to her 🥹🥹🥹

i am currently dying thank you

🥺🥺🥺 ellie’s the biggest daddy’s girl there ever was

like the second she left aaron's arms that morning when he had to go, instant tears - which he felt horrible to leave too :( he tried holding her for just a few minutes longer, but that did nothing because again, he inevitably had to go. at this point ellie knows how to say dada too, so that's mixed with her wailing, and it's just heartbreaking :((((( like him closing the door to the sound of her crying, calling for him, tore up every piece inside of him 🥺

when he gets to the office, aaron's not in the best mood so to speak, he's rather grumpy >:(, but he eagerly gets busy just for the day to go by quickly. back at home, there's literally no luck in calming her, so around aaron's lunch break, you call and ask if you're able to see him for a moment/drop her off for a while (you’ve been aching to go grocery shopping too, but bringing a sobbing baby would not make the trip enjoyable for anyone). it's merely a paperwork day, so aaron accepts at once and tells you to please come

ellie continues to sniffle and cry for him in the car, but the second the two of you enter the bau, it switches off - as if she knows where she is and who she's about to see. and when she does see aaron !!!!! :DDDDD it's as if her treacherous morning never existed she's ALLLL smiles <333 she's instantly making grabby hands at him, babbling, and the second she's in his arms, she's burying her little face into him ☹️🥺🥹🥹💓💞💓

in his office, (also crying at the visual of him lifting her stroller up the few short stairs to it) she's in his arms with him as he works until she falls asleep, and then she's in her stroller (which doesn't take long because poor baby girl wore herself out) he's gently pushing her back and forth, whenever someone comes into his office to give him papers/to talk, he makes sure they're on the quieter side as to not wake her too. hehe the team also keeps coming in to visit and gush over ellie 🥹<3333 especially penelope. hehe aaron repeatedly has to tell her to stay in her bat cave to get work done, but he loves it 🥰🥰🥰🥰 it pulls a smile out of him every time

#let's talk aaron <333333 #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #ellie hotchner <3 #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine

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zarnzarn · 6 months ago

Text

"Penelope," Odysseus whispers, heartbroken. She cannot stop crying enough to see him, and it makes her cry harder, even as the familiar scent of him moves closer and is followed by his arms around her, holding her up as she falls to pieces.

"I couldn't- I couldn't find-" She gasps for air, desperately hoping no one is around. Grief comes slamming into her like a tidal wave, laying her low with unrelenting memories of the injustice of wanting her husband home the most of anyone in the war and being the only to not get her wish and fear for how her reign would end and all the other feelings she should have gotten over already. "I couldn't find you," she sobs out finally, the words shaking out of her as her shoulders heave.

"Easy, my love, breathe," Odysseus coaxes, picking her up like it was nothing, tilting her at an angle that must be straining his shoulders to let her cling to him tighter. Cry, like it's the first time she realised how her wait had outlasted their marriage, where cannot breathe in for how hard she weeps, lungs burning. "Peace. I'm here, my darling, see, would a shade be able to do this?"

A choked, teary laugh is forced out of her as he spins on his heel suddenly, stopping her sobs with the momentum, leaving her gasping for breath and sniffing, shaking like a beaten dog, out in the rain. Alone and pawing at the memories of a warm hearth, with a pack's responsibilities on her shoulders and nowhere to set it down.

"See, now, there you go, drifting away again," Odysseus chides, twirling them both around once more, fast enough to make her half-squeal. "Am I so boring to you, compared to the mamba's nest of statespeople you have toyed with these long years? Must I put on a silly costume and dance around as entertainment, my dearest, tell you jokes and riddles to keep your attention? You wound me if you say yes, for I will lose the little respect our son still has for me."

She laughs wetly again at his chatter, the tempest in her head fading enough for the sobs to go from wailing to crying.

"Penelope," Odysseus sings her name in that strange way that sounds oddly like an owl's call, that no one can replicate. The chains around his feet jangle, a familiar sound she has trained herself into associating with her husband. She blinks the tears from her eyes, calming a little at the sound so she can see him. He clicks his tongue and wipes her tears away by rubbing their cheeks together, making her burst into choked giggles.

They don't last long, and she returns back to gasping for air as she runs out of energy, trembling.

Odysseus sighs, bittersweet, as he gives up on trying to make her laugh. Penelope sniffs, clinging on tight when she's suddenly lowered into soft sheets. "I'm here," He whispers, stroking her hair, letting her dig her nails in. "Oh, my poor beautiful wife. I'm back now. I would not leave for anything."

"I couldn't find you," Penelope whispers, small and scared. "I was calling for you from the door and there was no answer. I couldn't hear the chains. And no one knew where you were."

"All those who knew were with me, which won't happen again. I was only out at the merchants to see the new cloth with Tele," Odysseus murmurs. "Darling-"

"I cannot let go of the fear," She confesses in a rush. Closes her eyes and rocks them back and forth, trying to bury her face into Odysseus' shoulder and disappear into him. "Don't know how to convince myself that you are not an illusion. How to stop missing you, even when you are right in front of me. That I will wake up and still have to do it all alone."

Odysseus pulls back and stares at her, devastated, tears in his eyes. He opens his mouth and shuts it, helplessly. "Sweetest of my heart," he says finally, and lowers himself down on top of her so she can feel the full weight of him, smell his sweat and the ointment he applies on his scars and the juices of the fruit he fed her that morning by hand.

(Telemachus had sighed the sigh of the long-suffering when he took his seat next to them that morning for breakfast. "Must you?"

"Must we what?" Penelope had teased, and then opened her mouth for another fruit from her husband's hand, who was hiding a laugh in her hair, perched on her lap, his chair knocked to the side and lying sadly on the floor.

Telemachus shook his head, mock-disappointed and sighed louder.

"Come," Odysseus had said, patting his own lap. "Here, Tele, I will feed you too. Come."

"I'm not a dog," Telemachus had complained, over Penelope's sudden protests about not agreeing to this- and then came over and jumped up into Odysseus' grasp anyway, making Penelope yell at the sudden weight and her two rascals cackle at her.)

"Odysseus," She whispers as she exhausts of her crying and interspersing sobs an hour later, letting it curl on her tongue. She had stopped saying it, when the looks around her transformed from sympathy to concern over her sanity, and it became a political decision to not say her husband's name until he returned.

"Penelope," He returns, tightening his arms around her until her ribs creak. She sometimes wishes he were a violent man, that war had changed him enough to be rough with her, so she would have bruises to carry around to remind her he was there with her. But if he was, would she love him still?

"Give me something," She begs. She feels incredibly small and stupid, shaking like a child, and it is the only the fact that her real husband wouldn't falter or recoil in the face of her weaknesses and breakdowns that keeps her talking. "Something to prove you're here, please, please, husband-"

"Peace, Penelope," Odysseus says, in a voice sterner than he's ever used with her; the one he uses in court, making her stomach swoop. He moves back when he feels her tense under her, and studies her expression with a sharp eye. She loves him more than anything, would gladly slit open her torso to give him her innards if he so much as implied a passing fancy to having them, but even that isn't enough to fend off the slight bloom of mortification when realisation flashes across his eyes.

He kisses her, harder than usual, and she tries to focus on it rather than her still-racing thoughts.

"You are no longer Queen of Ithaka," Odysseus says, low and final, and the horrifying shock of the sentence nearly makes her moan. "Not in this room. You have held the burden of the kingdom for fifteen long years, and now you will let me make you put it down."

"No," Penelope protests, between kisses. She is still coming down from the fear planted in her by all the strong women that buoyed her these years, who grimly predicted that her husband would snatch the throne back as soon as he returned, coupled with the guilty relief that she no longer had to be in charge, no matter that it was by force. "I love her. My Ithaka. Rough and beautiful."

Odysseus huffs, smiling against her skin. "She loves you too. Which is why you must listen to her beckoning for you to rest." He punctuates his sentence by pressing down on her stomach, entire body weight on his hands as he drags his palms up her abdomen, between her breasts, up to her shoulders. "Relax, Penny. The kingdom wants for nothing, food is overabundant, no one fights, no ruler gives us trouble. You do not have to hold everything together on your own anymore."

Penelope snorts. "Ithaka says so, does she?"

"Am I not Ithaka?" Odysseus says, voice twisting and changing until it sounds like a woman speaking. Penelope is hit sideways by lust, stomach flipping at the smirk sent her way. It gets wider at her expression, as he leans down and croons, "Penelope."

"Oh, gods," Penelope says, strangled, bracing herself on his shoulders.

"Give you something," Odysseus muses, in that same voice, that lights on fire the part of her that used to be obsessed with the stable master's daughter. "How about..."

He picks up her hand and kisses her wrist gently, tenderly, like it is the most delicate of pottery, the most precious of gems. He rubs a hand over her veins once lovingly, then fits his teeth around them, eyes flashing with heat as he glances over her.

Her heart skips a beat. She nods. He bites down with canines sharper than he'd left with and she screams.

"Oh," She gasps when it's done, looking at the bleeding wound lovingly marked around her pulsepoint. Her husband tips her chin up and she smiles finally, stretching up to meet his bloody kiss. "Oh, more. More, Ody."

"As my wife desires," He murmurs, possessiveness catching fire in his eyes as he turns to set his teeth to his neck- still not violent, but perhaps the slightest bit loosened from the leash.

Penelope moans, vision hazy as her head rolls, staring up at the ceiling. She takes a deep breath, then another, letting the panic recede in the face of a daydream of wandering around with a necklace of bruises every day, until they grow old.

He always knows how to handle her so well. She had begun to think she'd imagined it, how well the man she married had met her at every turn, every trick. Yet only a few months in his return and still he guides her expertly from all the bad things in life like a sheepdog, like an overanxious newlywed; some days making her so happy that the fifteen years past had never happened.

"You will look at these and remember no one else could leave them but me," Odysseus orders, the sneer of the rabid slaughterer in his gaze. It makes all the tension seep out of her, tears escaping in relief as she nods. "And I won't go out of earshot ever again, so you always can hear how you've chained your poor husband down like a mule, forever to trip over his own feet and smash into the floor."

"Chained you like a bird," Penelope corrects, her smug, thrilled smile returning at the reminder, reaching down to shorten the chain. "No more flying for you."

"None," He agrees.

Her smile wavers as the tail end of her grief comes sliding back. "Hold me?"

"Forever and ever and ever," He promises, wrapping his hands around her. She shakes in his hold. He kisses the side of her head, holding his wrist still scarred with her own teethmarks up to her lips in offering. Her eyes roll back as the familiar blood rolls over her tongue, calming the storm in her chest at last. He pulls his hand back and cards it through her hair, pulling out all the ornaments that mark her as Queen, staining them with blood. "I promise. Calm, Penelope."

"I'm calm," She sniffs wetly. "I wouldn't do it for anyone but you."

"Neither would I," Odysseus replies. "Would you like to have sex? I can please you with my mouth if you want."

Penelope snorts ungracefully at the formal way he still says it, like it's an offer to go fetch something from the kitchens. "No. Just hold me."

Odysseus murmurs something in response and starts humming, rocking then back and forth. Blood on both their mouths still.

"Actually-" Penelope says abruptly, and Odysseus bursts into laughter like she knew he would. She smiles at the sound, and closes her eyes to bathe in it, and carefully brings herself to take the first step to trusting that he will still be there when she opens them.

#Penelope is by far the HARDEST character to write #cause her motives are so shrouded in complexity before he returns and her emotional state would be HELL after #just like. swinging between grief and ecstasy while also making way for someone to help her #putting down her white knuckled grip on the kingdom and making herself trust that odysseus will take care of it #odypen #penelope of ithaca #odysseus #epic the musical #slightly more abrupt ending than usual but imma just post her so i can move to the next one

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moonselune · 8 months ago

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Hihi! First, thank you for feeding lovers of the bg3 ladies I feel like we're starving sometimes fanfic wise. Second, could I request Tav x Karlach where they just had a newborn and what that life might look like? Drabble or headcanons or anything! Thank you :D

omfg this is so so cute, i love this request I am such a sucker for anything bg3 related and babies

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach x f!reader: Your turn, babe

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The middle of the night was heavy with silence, broken only by the sound of your newborn’s cries piercing through the air. You groaned softly, turning over in bed to see Karlach stirring beside you. Her fiery hair was a mess, her eyes barely open as she blinked sleepily into the dark.

“It’s your turn,” you muttered, your voice thick with exhaustion. Karlach grunted, pulling the blanket over her head.

“Nuh-uh, babe, I got up last time. It’s your turn,” she protested, her voice muffled from beneath the covers.

You squinted at her through the darkness, trying to remember the last time either of you had gotten a full night’s sleep. “No way. I swear I was up with them just an hour ago.”

Karlach groaned again, her arm flopping out from under the blanket as the baby’s wails grew louder. “I’m running on fumes here. My body’s literally powered by fire, and I’m still burning out.”

You chuckled, though it was half-hearted. The tiredness was bone-deep, but the baby needed you. With a heavy sigh, you started to swing your legs out of bed.

“Alright, alright,” you relented, the floor cold beneath your feet. “I’m going.”

“Such a good mama,” Karlach murmured, barely awake, her voice full of affection as she burrowed deeper into the sheets.

You gave her a playful glare, though she couldn’t see it. The baby’s cries tugged at your heart as you padded over to the small crib in the corner. Your little one was red-faced and wriggling, their tiny fists clenched in frustration.

“Shh, shh,” you whispered softly, lifting them into your arms, cradling their warm, squirming body against your chest. “I’m here. It’s okay.”

The cries began to quiet just a little as you gently rocked back and forth, humming a soft lullaby, though your body felt like it was made of lead. You leaned against the wall for support, exhaustion threatening to pull you under.

But before you could fully settle into the rhythm of soothing your newborn, you felt the familiar warmth of Karlach behind you. Her strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close, and her body pressed against yours as she rested her chin on your shoulder. Her touch was grounding, and even though you were tired, you couldn’t help but smile.

“What are you doing up?” you whispered, glancing at her with a teasing smile. “Thought it was my turn.”

Karlach let out a low, lazy chuckle, the sound rumbling from deep in her chest.

“I couldn’t resist,” she murmured, nuzzling the side of your neck. “You and the little one, all wrapped up together… how could I stay in bed?”

You laughed softly, the sound mingling with the quiet coos of your baby. “So, what was the point of all that bickering if you were just going to get up anyway?”

Karlach grinned, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “Gotta keep you on your toes, babe.”

You shook your head, though there was no real irritation behind it. “We’re both too tired for games.”

“I know,” Karlach said, her voice softer now, full of warmth. “But I just love this. Having you and the baby in my arms… it’s perfect. Even if I’m dead on my feet, I don’t care.”

Her arms tightened around you just a little, and together, the two of you rocked gently, swaying back and forth. Your baby was quieting now, lulled by the comfort of both their parents close by, their tiny hand gripping one of Karlach’s fingers.

For a moment, the exhaustion melted away, replaced by a feeling of absolute contentment. You leaned back into Karlach, your head resting against hers, the weight of the world feeling a little lighter with her by your side.

“I love you,” you whispered.

Karlach smiled, the fire in her eyes burning a little brighter in the dim light. “I love you too, babe. Both of you.”

And as the baby finally drifted off to sleep, you stood there together in the quiet of the night, wrapped up in each other’s arms, the soft, steady rhythm of your newborn’s breathing reminding you that even in the hardest moments, you had everything you needed right here.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

This is so cute I love it and I hope you guys enjoyed it! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate tav #bg3 tav #baldurs gate iii #karlach #baldurs gate karlach #karlach cliffgate #karlach x reader #karlach x tav #karlach bg3 #karlach imagines #bg3 karlach #mother!karlach #bg3 parents #karlach cliffgate x reader #karlach cliffgate x tav #karlach fluff

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lvnleah · 6 months ago

Text

Month eight

word count: 2.5k

find the masterlist here!

Early December 2024 | 8 months old.

“Shhh, it’s okay Bubba,” you whispered as you cradled Finley in your arms, gently bouncing him in hopes he’d calmed down. “Mummy’s here, it’s okay.”

The clock showed 4:34 AM, and once again, Finley had woken up, crying inconsolably. His sleep had become more broken over the last few weeks, his tiny body waking every forty-five minutes or so, his cries a constant reminder of how exhausted he must be.

You were stuck in a cycle of feeding, crying, and trying to soothe him back to sleep all for it to happen again forty-five minutes later. It had been over a week since you had last slept properly, you hadn’t hit the stage where Finley was sleeping through yet but he was sleeping for a couple of hours at a time before waking up again.

You sighed softly, exhaustion washing over you as Finley let out another wail. You gently rocked him, pacing back and forth in the dim light of the nursery. His little face was scrunched up, and you could feel the tension in his tiny body. You were running on nothing at this point. His soft whimpers tugged at your heart, and as much as you needed rest, he needed comfort more.

Just then, the door creaked open, and you looked up to see Leah standing there, a look of concern on her face.

“Hey, pretty girl,” she whispered, walking over to you and Finley. “You look exhausted. Why didn’t you wake me?”

You gave her a tired smile, shaking your head slightly. “You’ve got camp tomorrow, Leah. You need your rest.”

Leah gently placed a hand on your back, her thumb rubbing small circles into your skin. “And you need rest too. We’re a team, remember?” She reached out to take Finley from your arms. “Come on, let me take over for a bit. You get some sleep.”

You hesitated before you carefully handed Finley over to her, watching as she cradled him close, her movements slow and soothing. She was always the better one out of the both of you that could settle Finley, it wasn’t hard to see that he was a Mumma’s boy.

“Go on,” she urged, her voice soft. “I’ll get him settled. I promise.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of exhaustion pulling you down. “I love you, Le,” you murmured, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “Thank you.”

Leah smiled at you, “You’re the amazing one, doing this night after night. Now go, sleep.”

As you trudged back to the bedroom, you could hear Leah humming to Finley, the sound gradually fading as you slipped under the covers. Your body sank into the mattress, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to fully relax, knowing that Leah had everything under control.

In the nursery, Leah continued to rock Finley, her voice low and soothing as she sang to him. Finley’s cries slowly subsided, his tiny body finally relaxing against hers.

Leah smiled softly, looking down at his peaceful face. “That’s it, little man. Mummy’s got you.”

As Finley’s breathing evened out, Leah gently lowered him back into his crib, brushing a tender kiss across his forehead. She lingered for a moment, watching him sleep before quietly slipping out of the room.

Returning to the bedroom, Leah found you already asleep, your breathing deep and steady. Slipping into bed beside you, she wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close.

“Love you,” she whispered, knowing you were too deep in sleep to hear. But it didn’t matter. She meant it with all her heart.

A few hours later, you woke up to the sound of Finley’s cries once again instead of Leah’s alarm like you expected. You rolled onto your stomach with a groan as you looked at the alarm that read 8:34 am.

As you stirred awake, the realisation that it was already past 8:30 hit you like a jolt. Leah’s alarm should have gone off an hour ago, especially with her travelling to camp today. But instead, it was Finley’s cries that pulled you from sleep.

You groggily pushed yourself up, your body aching from the rare few hours of uninterrupted rest. You noticed Leah wasn’t beside you as you rolled over. She must have gotten up with Finley again.

Throwing on one of Leah’s hoodies, you shuffled down the hallway towards the nursery. The door was slightly open, and as you approached, you could hear Leah’s voice, calm and steady, speaking softly to Finley.

When you peeked inside, your heart melted at the sight before you. Leah was sitting in the rocking chair, holding Finley close to her chest as he lay in her arms. His cries had subsided into whimpers, his tiny fingers clutching onto her shirt. Leah was swaying gently back and forth, a look of deep concentration on her face as she hummed the tune of North London Forever.

“Morning,” she whispered, careful not to disturb Finley, who was on the verge of falling back asleep. “I figured I’d let you get a bit more rest.”

You smiled back as you entered the nursery. “You should’ve woken me. You need to be getting ready for camp.”

Leah shook her head gently. “I’ve already called Sarina. She’s agreed for you and Finley to come with me for the camp, I’m not letting you go through this sleep regression alone.”

You sighed as you walked over to her side. “You really didn’t have to do that. It’s important you focus with no distractions, Le. I could’ve done it alone.”

She shook her head as she looked down at Finley, who was now peacefully asleep in her arms. “You and Finley are my priority. Sarina understands. I’m his mother too, we do things as a team.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, stepping closer to press a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“Why don’t you get some breakfast and then get ready and pack a bag, and I’ll finish up with him?” Leah suggested.

By the time you had eaten, Finley was settled back in his crib, and Leah was waiting for you in the bedroom, her bag already packed for camp. You walked over to her as she set her phone down on the bed. She pulled you down to lay on top of her by your hips.

“Right, let’s pack some things yeah?” She said, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“Yeah, let’s get started,” you replied, though the idea of moving from this spot was far less appealing than staying wrapped up in her arms.

Leah’s hand rubbed soothing circles on your back as if sensing your reluctance. “We’ll take it one step at a time, pretty girl. Besides, I’m really looking forward to having you and Finley with me. It’ll be nice to come back to the two of you after training.”

You smiled at her words. The idea of being together, even amongst the chaos of sleep regression, was a comfort. You gently pushed yourself up, giving Leah the space to get off the bed.

Leah opened up the wardrobe and started pulling out some of Finley’s essentials that were still in your wardrobe. She picked out some onesies, sleep suits and a few outfits that would do him for the week as well as some spare clothes. You busied yourself with your own things, packing clothes that were comfortable but presentable enough for camp.

As you packed, you caught sight of Leah occasionally glancing over at you with a smile. You caught Leah’s gaze and couldn’t help but smile back.

“Caught you staring,” you teased, folding a jumper into your bag.

Leah walked over to you and wrapped her arms around your waist from behind. “Can’t help it with a pretty wife like you.”

You laughed softly, leaning back into her embrace. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Williamson.”

She chuckled, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Just stating the truth.”

With your bags packed and Finley’s essentials gathered, you both finished getting ready for the day. Leah insisted on carrying the heavier bags to the car, leaving you to focus on Finley, who had woken up once more, but this time with a bright smile on his face, as if the rough night was forgotten.

“Look who’s finally in a good mood,” Leah said as she placed the last bag into the boot. She walked over to where you were holding Finley and ran a gentle hand over his blonde hair. “You gonna be a good boy today, little man?”

Finley cooed, his tiny hands reaching out to Leah. She took him from you with ease, lifting him in the air and blowing a raspberry on his tummy, which made him giggle. The sound of his laughter was infectious, and you found yourself grinning despite the weariness that still clung to you.

“He’s definitely a Mumma’s boy,” you said, watching them as Finley giggled although you weren’t sure how long it’d last for.

“Nah! You love us both the same don’t you Bubba?” Leah replied, tickling Finley’s stomach.

After securing Finley in his car seat and double-checking that everything was packed, the three of you set off for the training camp. The drive was long, Finley kept dozing off in the backseat just to wake up thirty minutes later.

You had to stop a few times during the three-hour drive which made it into almost five hours. When you arrived, the team greeted you warmly. Finley was the star, as perusal, and was passed around from person to person for a quick cuddle.

“Hi little man,” Keira cooed as Leah held him, “You look grumpy! Look at that frown, just like your Mumma’s!”

“Oi!” Leah smiled, playfully hitting Keira’s shoulder, “He’s going through a sleep regression so he’s tired.”

Keira tickled his stomach quickly, “Oh so you’re grumpy without sleep then like your Mumma?”

As the day went on, Leah headed to training and you headed up to your hotel room so you could get unpacked and settled with Finley.

A few days later, you found yourself pacing the hotel room trying to soothe a fussy Finley who refused to settle down for his nap. His little face was scrunched up in discomfort, you had tried everything. It had been four days since you and Leah had slept properly, and the exhaustion was beginning to take its toll.

Just as you were about to try rocking Finley in the chair again, your phone rang. Balancing Finley in one arm, you fished it out of your pocket, seeing Keira's name on the screen.

“Hey, Kei,” you answered, your voice strained with fatigue.

“Hey,” Keira’s voice was gentle but she sounded worried at the same time. “Listen, Leah’s having an endo flare-up. She didn’t get to her medication in time, and it hit her pretty hard. We’re bringing her back up to the room now.”

Your heart sank, she always took her medication on time. “What, is she alright?”

“She will be, but she’s in a lot of pain. Beth and I are with her, and we’ll help her get settled. Just wanted to give you a heads-up because we’re just leaving training and we’ll be upstairs in a few minutes.”

“Thanks, Kei,” you said, glancing at Finley who was still squirming in your arms. “I’m trying to settle Finley, but he’s really fussy today. I’ll be here when you arrive.”

You hung up, worry gnawing at you. Leah had always been good at taking her meds, but when her endometriosis flared up and she didn’t have any medication, it was debilitating. You knew how much she hated being in pain, and the thought of her suffering made your heartache.

A few minutes later, the door opened, and Keira and Beth entered, supporting Leah between them. She was doubled over, her face pale and twisted in pain. The sight of her like this made your chest tighten.

“Le,” you breathed, your voice filled with concern.

Keira and Beth gently guided her to the bed, helping her lie down. Leah winced, clutching her abdomen as she tried to find a comfortable position. You wanted to rush to her side, but Finley’s cries kept you rooted where you were.

“Let’s get you settled, yeah?” Beth said softly, pulling the covers up around Leah.

“I’m sorry,” Leah whispered, her voice hoarse from the pain. “I need to help you settle, Finn.”

“It’s okay, I’m trying,” you replied, wishing you could do more. “The team doctors are coming, right?”

Keira nodded. “They’re on their way with some pain relief.”

Beth looked at you, “Why don’t I take Finley out for a walk? I can have him for a bit so you can focus on Leah.”

You hesitated, feeling torn. Finley was fussy, and you didn’t want to burden Beth with it, but at the same time, you knew Leah needed you. Finally, you nodded, reluctantly handing Finley over to Beth.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice thick with gratitude.

Beth smiled warmly. “It’s no problem. We’ll be fine, won’t we little man? You just take care of Leah.”

Beth grabbed Finley’s nappy bag which had everything she would need in it as well as some formula and bottles in case he needed a feed. Keira slid the nappy bag under his pram and pushed it out of the room as Beth carried Finley.

As Beth left the room with Finley, the team doctors arrived. They administered pain relief to Leah, and after what felt like an eternity, you could see the tension slowly start to ease from her body. The lines of pain on her face softened, and she let out a shaky breath.

Once the doctors had gone and the room had quieted, you sat down on the bed, gently brushing a strand of hair from Leah’s forehead.

“Why didn’t you take your meds, Le?” you asked softly, your voice tinged with worry. “You know how important it is.”

Leah looked at you, guilt flashing in her eyes. “I just… I forgot. We’ve been so busy with Finley, and I didn’t even realise until it was too late. I completely forgot about my period being due.”

You felt guilty, knowing that she’d been putting Finley’s needs above her own, just as you had. “I’m so sorry, Leah. I should’ve reminded you.”

“Don’t,” Leah whispered, reaching out to take your hand. “This isn’t your fault. We’re both exhausted, trying to do our best. It just slipped my mind.”

You leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “We’ll get through this, together. I’ll help you remember next time.”

Leah smiled weakly, her hand squeezing yours. “I know. Thank you.”

With the pain relief finally working, Leah’s breathing began to even out, and her eyes grew heavy with sleep. You climbed into bed beside her, wrapping your arms around her waist, needing to feel her close.

“I love you,” you whispered, resting your head on her shoulder.

“I love you too,” Leah murmured, her voice drowsy. “We’ll figure it out… just need some rest.”

The two of you lay there, holding each other, the exhaustion finally catching up with you both. The room was quiet, slowly, the tension in your body melted away, and for the first time in days, you felt yourself drifting into a peaceful sleep.

#lvnleah #awfc #leah williamson #the williamson’s #finley williamson

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milliesfishes · 14 days ago

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౨ৎKnow That My Love Would Burn With Me/We'll Live Eternally (Soften)౨ৎ

౨ৎ꣑ৎmasterlist౨ৎ꣑ৎ fem reader x billy the kid thank you my darling @phantomamour for proofing <3

When Billy’s eyes flew open, it was to darkness. He lifted his head, looking around and startling when he heard the familiar sound of Kat’s cries cutting through the previous stillness of the night. You stirred against his chest, mumbling his name, and he hushed you, smoothing a hand over your hair. “Go back to sleep, angel. I’ve got her.”

“Bring her in here,” you whispered, shifting off his chest. “Maybe she’s hungry.”

“No natural feeding yet, ‘member?” Billy kissed your hairline. “I’ll get her some milk if she is.”

“Bring her in here still,” you repeated, clasping his sleep shirt before he could get up. It had snowed hard during the day, and Billy had opted to sleep fully clothed as a result, bundling you in every blanket he could find over the covers. Dutifully, he nodded, mouthing another kiss into your hair before standing, gently laying you down before he went to retrieve the baby.

Kat was wet-faced, wailing into Billy’s shirt by the time he made it back into your bedroom, hoping all the commotion hadn’t woken Annie. His youngest daughter’s little hands were waving, pounding against his chest as he made his way back over to you, bouncing her in his arms and trying to soothe her with words. “Oh, honey, it’s okay. I know, I know. I’d be cryin’ if I wanted Mama too.”

You held out your arms for her, smiling when Billy deposited her gently there, the freshly lit candle flickering at your bedside.. “What’s the matter, sweet girl? Oh, my poor baby.” Cuddling Kat to your chest, you rocked back and forth. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Gradually, her cries settled, and Billy reached out to smooth her dark hair, rumpled in her distress.

These nightly comforts with the baby were the last thing Billy wanted you to be doing so soon after the birth, as your condition remained delicate. He insisted he could handle all the getting up, the tending, especially since you weren’t feeding her just yet, but your mother’s instincts woke you every time.

In the week that had passed since Kat’s birth your condition had remained much the same, your weariness unsettling to Billy. He refused to let you go back to your everyday activities, worried that even the smallest of chores would weaken you. After nearly losing you there wasn’t any way he’d risk it again. He could hardly stand to be out of the same room as you, only leaving for short periods in order to retrieve you food and water. Kat was kept nearby, and Annie began taking her every night to put to bed so Billy could attend to you.

The pain he knew you were in was shown only through uncomfortable shifting and the occasional grimace. He tried his hand at making you feel better, administering massages to the places you said hurt the most and comforting you when you couldn’t fall asleep, which was far too often. One would never know how you suffered by your sweet disposition, the way you doted on your daughters and spoke so happily.

“Billy?” Your voice broke his trance, and he looked up, instantly alert.

“Hmm?” He touched your arm, settling in close to you. “You okay?”

“I am,” you said softly, eyes warm. A moment passed as you simply watched him, still rocking Kat. Then, ever so gently, “I’m right here. You don’t need to hide from me.”

“Baby…” Billy hooked his chin over your shoulder, sliding a gentle arm around your waist.

“You’re scared,” you whispered.

He kissed your crown, leaning his forehead there for a second. “I’m not-”

“You are.” Turning slightly to the side, you tilted your chin up. “I’m right here, my love. I’m here with you.”

“I almost lost you.” The words slipped out, and he leaned his cheek against your head. His hold tightened just slightly.

“Not a second of it was your fault, Billy. Don’t you go blaming yourself.” You sat up, shifting Kat to the other arm so you could touch his cheek. “I’m okay. I’m right here.”

Billy drew in a breath, kissing your shoulder. “I know. But what if you weren’t?”

“I’m here.” You leaned your cheek on his chest, a sleepy Kat nestled into your arm. Reaching for his hand, you laid it over your heart, his big palm lying flat over it. Billy kept his touch light, secretly terrified you might break. “It’s still beating for you.”

Releasing a breath, Billy hid his face in your hair. He shouldn’t miss you. You were here, breathing and talking and telling him how you loved him. Here with Annie sleeping a few rooms over and Kat peacefully resting with you both. How could he be so concerned with protecting you that he couldn’t love you while he had you?

“Do you remember,” you said, voice like a melody, “when you first asked me to marry you and you tied a piece of string to make a ring for me?”

He breathed out a laugh, rocking you and Kat back and forth. “I felt so bad I couldn’t get you a real ring right then.”

“I thought it was so romantic,” you murmured. “I still do.” Holding out your left hand, you fluttered your fingers. “I still have it in my treasure box.”

“‘F course.” Billy caught your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours and rubbing his thumb over your ring, a simple golden band he’d acquired not long after moving to this house. He kissed your knuckles. The drawer in your bedside table, affectionately known as your treasure box, housed everything you wanted to keep, your books and childhood keepsakes.

You kissed his nose. “For our girls. When we’re gone.”

He breathed out, stiffening, and you rubbed his chest. “I’m sorry. That was bad timing.” You kissed his scratchy cheek. “You look tired, honey. Let’s go to sleep.”

Obliging, Billy laid down with you tucked into his side, Kat sprawled on the other side of his chest. He stroked your hair until your eyes fell shut, breathing even. Though your words were soothing, Billy still stared at the ceiling, knowing that in his life, nothing was resolved so easily.

Even a great distance away on his horse, Billy could hear Kat’s shrieking cries.

Next to him, Annie looked worried as he felt. Calming Kat when she was fussy had never been a point of difficulty for you. Almost the instant your arms closed around her she would cease, quieted by the comfort you were always ready to give. Billy frowned, quickening his horse towards home. Maybe she was hurt. He paled as images of you fainting and dropping the baby filled his mind, and as soon as he was close enough he practically threw himself off his saddle, sprinting up to the door.

Throwing it open, he called your name, already making for the nursery. You were nowhere to be heard or found in the kitchen or the hallway, and when he burst into Kat’s room you weren’t there either. His heart dropped when he saw his little girl, tears on her cheeks and banging her fists on the sides of her cradle. Her anguish didn’t quiet when he lifted her into his arms, rubbing her back and speaking softly. “Oh, kitty Kat, what’s the matter? What happened?” He walked with her to the bedroom, a quick scan over the unmade bed and tidy drawers telling him you weren’t there.

Annie rushed inside, wringing her hands. “Daddy I can’t find her.” Billy clenched his jaw, feeling like he’d been run over. He handed Kat over to her sister and bolted outside, hoping against hope that you were out for a walk in the snow through the garden, even though he’d told you not to do so without him. But rounding the back of the house there was no sign of you. The last time this had happened…

Now when he made his way back up the front walk he saw the red spattered on the porch.

Finding Annie, he got his words out in a rush. “Will you be okay with Kat for a while?”

She nodded, Kat still fussing on her hip. “We’ll be okay.” Swallowing, Annie’s lips turned down. “Daddy, what happened?”

“I’m gonna find out,” he said, nodding and smoothing his palm over Kat’s head. Billy kissed Annie’s forehead. “I won’t be gone long, sweetheart.” A part of him was nervous about leaving his two girls alone without his protection, but it was a risk he had to take. Taking his young daughter and a baby into where he was potentially about to go was something he could never do.

As he mounted his horse he thought of his mother, her spirit that had kept him and you safe all these years. Ma please keep our girls safe. Don’t let anything bad happen to them. That plea was the final thing he could do before riding off in pursuit of something that might be impossible. His mother was busy with his daughters. He couldn’t ask any more of her.

It had been a decade since he’d been on a wanted poster, but every haunt of the illegal doings in the state was burnt into his mind. In past years he’d tried to scrub it away, but now he was thankful it had stuck. You were still so weak from the birth. It wouldn’t do any good to look in fruitless places, to take more than a day to find you.

Even though it had been so long since he’d considered himself an outlaw, Billy knew there were still men who searched for him, who thought finding him would bring some sort of reward. The world, it turned out, would not so easily forget his past. Nobody cared that he’d turned over a new leaf, that he had a family. His name bled through the book of history and stained his other pages, past and future, with ink.

The woods were a blur as he made his way to the closest of these special haunts, figuring that if the takers wanted to lure him in, they wouldn’t go far. Billy was short in breath as he made his way between the trees, wishing horribly that he had more blood to follow. What if the taking had caused something to happen in your body?

Billy slowed his horse as he got closer, not wanting to alert anybody who might be keeping watch. He dismounted, tying the reins to a tree branch and creeping closer, hand on his gun. Though he always carried it, cleaned it regularly, practiced every now and then, he hadn’t fired it at a person since he’d moved out here with you.

The voices became clearer as he made it to the cave’s mouth. They weren’t even trying to hide. There was laughing, which made Billy’s blood boil. He drew his gun, holding it to his chest and creeping closer. Every skill he’d developed for the necessity of survival came back to him in a swoop, and it terrified him. How easy it would be to slip back into this life.

There was another sound as his ears adjusted. A higher pitched, more distressing sound. Billy kept his footsteps silent, his breathing shaky. At least you were still alive. Bottles clinking. Exhaling sharply, he whipped around the corner, pointing his gun at the men inside.

They were drunk. He could see that much by their bleary eyes and lack of reactions. One of the men even held his hands up. All three of them were frozen.

With three bullets he could have ended it all. They’d never come after you or his family again. Billy very nearly did it, the easiest course of action that would tie up every loose end. He could grab you and run like hell, no chance of anybody coming after you.

What stopped him was the image of his daughters in his mind’s eye. His sweet, innocent girls who’d never known their father as the murderer he’d been in the past. How could he face them after taking the lives of three more men? How could he face you, after leaving that life behind for you? Billy didn’t lower his gun, his stare cold, but he resolved within himself. Maybe someday he would tell Annie and Kat about who he’d been, the things he’d done. But these three men wouldn’t be a part of it.

“If you ever touch my wife again,” Billy said harshly, looking at each of them in turn, “I’ll pull the trigger. Get out of here before I change my mind.”

His unmoving stance and serious words were all it took for the three men to stumble out of the cave, their footsteps heavy. They wouldn’t be a threat anymore, Billy knew inside. Cowards who hadn’t even pulled a weapon out. All they wanted was an easy cash grab, not considering that he wouldn’t make it easy.

Billy sheathed his gun, stumbling towards the huddled shape in the corner, the light from the mouth of the cave just barely illuminating you. There was light enough to show the scarlet stained front of your dress, your teary eyes and shaky hands. Kneeling at your side, he tentatively grasped your elbow. “It’s me, sweetheart. I’m here. I’m right here.”

You looked up and his shoulders slumped. There was recognition in your eyes, but he could see you were fairly out of it. Swaying back and forth, you mumbled, “Billy,” and he cupped your cheek, trying to determine the problem. When you’d been taken before, they’d given you an alarming number of drugs to keep you compliant. He wouldn’t be surprised if these men had done the same.

“Sweetie,” he tried, tilting your face up. “I’m here, okay? I’m here.” Sliding an arm under you, he began to pick you up, but you groaned in pain, clenching the sleeve of his shirt. “I know. I know, I’m sorry. We’re gonna get you help. I promise, we’re gonna make you feel better.”

The only response he received was you quietly slumping into his chest, too exhausted to hang on any longer.

The doctor’s visit was full of agony, but at least it wasn’t for nothing.

You were sleeping now, finally, after you’d been prescribed a mixture of herbs that made your eyes grow heavy and finally close. He’d held you all through the examination, brushing your tears away and smoothing your hair and speaking softly to you as the doctor poked and prodded where you were hurt. At one point you’d fallen completely unconscious and he’d immediately looked to the foot of the bed for bleeding. That was what had made you pass out during Kat’s birth. But the doctor had grimly told Billy that this time it must have been from the pain.

He was holding you now, stroking your hair and trying to make sure you stayed asleep. Annie had come in a few minutes ago with Kat, who he knew was missing you badly, but you couldn’t be woken. Billy hadn’t revealed the full story of what had happened to you, but his Annie was sharp. She hadn’t needed very much detail.

When Billy looked down at you, you were stirring, whimpering and shifting in his arms. He could see the familiar furrow in your brow, the tension on your face, recognizing a bad dream. Rubbing your back, he tried to comfort you in your sleep, hoping that you wouldn’t be woken by whatever your subconscious was choosing to torment you with.

His wish was not granted, however, and you bolted upright with a little shout, tears already beginning to fall. He turned you into his chest instantly, soothing words spilling from his tongue immediately. “Shh, it’s okay, my love. You’re okay. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

You shook your head, sniffling and bunching his shirt in your fist. Billy wished he could see into your mind’s eye, figure out what it was that was bouncing around in your head and making you miserable. He lifted you up to sit on his lap, rocking you back and forth. “Just a dream, sweet girl. Just a dream. You’re safe. I’ve got you.” Billy wasn’t sure if he’d ever be leaving you alone again.

The nightmares weren’t satisfied with that first evening. Billy hardly wanted to fall asleep anymore due to the knowledge that he would be waking up shortly with you. Oftentimes your crying woke up Kat too, and Billy hated that he was depending on Annie to calm her, but there was simply no other way to handle it. She insisted that she didn’t mind, but it didn’t ease his guilt.

This particular night was one of the worse ones. You were crying nearly uncontrollably, so much so he was afraid you’d lose your breath. Billy had exhausted what he thought was every resource, swaying and hot tea and fresh blankets and more. He wanted to cry right along with you.

“Shh, I know, I know, honey. I know it hurts, huh? You’re being so brave, baby.” Billy slid his hand under your nightdress, rubbing a hand up and down your spine. “Just lean on me and close your eyes.”

“No,” you cried, trembling between his arms. “C-can’t.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he breathed, kissing your hair. More than anything in the world Billy wished there was a way to make your nightmares leave for good.

An idea sparked in his mind, and Billy stroked your cheek with his thumb, keeping his voice quiet. “Honey, can you lay down for me? Atta girl.” You laid flat on your back, and he repositioned his closest arm around you. He reached over, drawing a slow spiral on your chest from the center. “Bad dreams, bad dreams go away.” Changing the direction of the spiral, he nudged his nose into the side of your head as he whispered, “Good dreams, good dreams here to stay.”

Your breathing grew softer. Billy kept his hand settled over your chest, and you touched it, finally seeming to still. He was perfectly still, letting you cuddle into him as needed. You finally seemed to be settled, and he was relieved for both of your sakes.

The night passed in a steady way, Billy weaving in and out of his own consciousness. He was aware of you mostly, anxious every second that you would wake up, plagued with awful dreams. Unfortunately, the doctor hadn’t provided any remedies for bad dreams, or even mentioned it as a potential symptom. He’d been too busy gravely informing Billy that you wouldn’t be able to be intimate for quite some time, the implication of which wrenched his heart.

In the morning, he left you contently sleeping, hoping you would remain so, and padded down the hall to Annie’s room, knocking softly and entering when granted permission. His eldest daughter was sitting up, humming a Mexican folk tune he’d taught her when she was little. Kat was asleep next to her, one arm flung above her head, gripping the pillowcase.

Annie smiled when she saw Billy, and he sat on the bed next to her, leaning against the headboard. “Morning, sweetheart.”

“Hi, Daddy.” She looked down at Kat, stroking her arm. The look on her face was so loving that he felt emotional. Not just because of the obvious love Annie had for her sister, but because he’d left her to be a parent to his baby. He’d been so wrapped up in you that he’d nearly abandoned his daughters.

“I’m sorry,” he said before he could help it, looking Annie in the eye. “It isn’t fair that you’ve had to take over with Kat like this.”

She smiled softly. “I don’t mind. I’m getting really good at getting up with her.”

“We’re gonna be better about that from now on,” Billy promised. “Mama’s getting better and we’ll be able to take over. You shouldn’t have to do what you’ve been doing.”

“It’s our special time,” Annie said, looking back down at Kat, who was stirring. “She’s my baby sister. I love being with her.”

“You also need to sleep.” Billy kissed the top of her head. “I’ll make you a deal, alright? No more night feeds unless it’s an emergency. When you’re not at school you can help out.”

Yawning, Annie nodded, and he fondly brushed her cheek. “Stay home today and get some rest. Think we all need it.”

Turning to the side, she ran a finger over Kat’s soft cheek. “She looks so peaceful when she’s asleep.” Annie lifted her eyes to Billy’s again. “Do you think Mama will ever have that again?”

He leaned back, taking in the sight of his two girls, seeing you in both of them, in different ways. The hopefulness in Annie’s eyes was so reminiscent of you that he wouldn’t ever dare break it, even if he didn’t think you would get better.

“Ella va a mejorar.” He said it softly, and Annie smiled.

“Te amo,” she whispered, and he kissed her hair.

“Te amo.”

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