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humanpurposes · 2 years ago

Text

Hysteria

(1950s AU) A housewife reaches breaking point and seeks medical advice at her husband's request // Main Masterlist

Aemond x nameless female character

Warnings: 18+, smut, period typical sexism, dub-con,

Words: 5400

A/n: inspired by this ask on @lightningandfireinmybones 's blog, shout out to @b-vvitched for the prompt, I couldn't stop thinking about it :) Also available to read on AO3.

She reads over the gold painted letters on the door to make sure she has the right room.

Dr A. Targaryen

General Practitioner

She brings her hand up to the door, hesitating for a moment before she softly taps her knuckles against the wood, thrice.

She holds her breath, unsure if a moment passes or a minute.

His voice comes soft and distant from the other side. “Enter.”

The room is simply four white walls, a dark wood desk and cabinets and an examination table with black leather upholstery. The harsh afternoon sun and a slight breeze bleed in from the open windows, floating through thin, white curtains. It’s surprisingly serene but still plain and inoffensive.

Dr Targaryen– Aemond as he insists as he shakes her hand– has harsh blue eyes, the left framed by a long scar slicing down his face, a pointed nose, curved lips, a sharp jaw and pale blond hair, stylishly gelled like some movie star. Something about him is unsettling despite the small smile and the impeccable manners as he offers her a seat in the green leather chair on the other side of his desk.

She contracts her hand slightly once he lets go of her. His grip had been rather firm.

He opens a brown leather notebook and flicks through a clipboard on the desk, frowning and tapping a pen against it as he goes over some paperwork and basic information she had given the nurse, as instructed.

She holds her hands together in her lap and winces at how damp her palms are. She’s sure it’s just the weather, and smooths them over her pale blue, rayon skirt. She checks her nails while she’s at it too. She had painted them red the night before, but they are already starting to chip from where she’d started her day with washing the dishes and doing a deep clean of the kitchen.

“You said your husband recommended you seek medical advice, is that right?” he asks, his head tilted down and his eyes meeting hers, expecting a prompt answer, she realises.

She swallows through the scratchy feeling in her throat, wishing she had accepted the receptionist’s offer of water. “Yes, that’s right.”

His eyes move over the page again and he gives a cryptic “hmm.”

The specifics often change but lately she’s realised that each day of her life feels the same. Wake up before her husband, make his coffee and his breakfast, make sure he wants for nothing and see him off to work. Help the mother-in-law with her shopping and her laundry. Bake a cake for the village fundraiser and drop it off at the the Church. Make polite conversation with the vicar and the other women helping out, compliment their babies, ask about the older children. Try not to cry when she’s bombarded with the dreaded question. “How soon can we expect little ones from you?”

Two weeks ago her husband had come home from work and found her on the sofa, staring into space, too tired to even reach for a book or a magazine. Everything had seemed to be going wrong for her that day, evidenced by the broken washing machine, the broken heel on her shoe, the cuts and blisters on her feet, the shopping left unceremoniously on the kitchen counter. She was absolutely exhausted, but when his dinner wasn't ready and waiting for him, her husband hit the roof.

Something snapped. Before she knew it, she was screaming, eyes hot and streaming with tears as she choked on her own sobs. She had never been so loud in her life. She can hardly even remember what she said.

Her husband’s voice screams inside her head. “Emotional… irrational… hysterical…”

“And you went to the nurse first?” Aemond asks.

“Yes.”

He looks back at the notes. “What did she tell you?”

She shifts in her chair. It should all be right there in front of him, why does she have to say it?

She takes a deep breath, as subtly as she can. “She suggested it could be a hormonal imbalance, or a symptom of…”

Aemond raises a brow, expectantly.

She feels a warmth rushing to her cheeks “... monthly courses,” she says quietly.

“And have you had issues with those?” he asks.

“They can be irregular.”

He hums again and writes something in his notebook.

She clenches her fist around her skirt and notices the soft ticking of the clock on the wall over the desk. It’s not too obtrusive, and the rhythm gives her something to focus on while neither of them are speaking.

Aemond shifts back in his chair, crossing a leg over the other, absentmindedly pressing the lid of his pen to his lips like he’s trying to solve a crossword in the morning paper. “What exactly was your husband’s main concern?”

There comes a familiar feeling, an emptiness in her chest like her body might concave, and a swelling in her eyes. She bites down on her lip to dispel the urge to cry.

Everyone around her loves to comment on how happy she is, how blessed she is to have such a happy marriage and a loving husband.

“He says I’ve been too emotional.”

“Emotional in what way?”

She tells him about the outburst two weeks ago, expecting him to tut and shake his head and chide her for her behaviour. Instead he watches her and listens.

“He says he doesn’t know what else to do with me. He says he does everything he can to make me happy, but that it’ll never be enough for me,” she says.

“And does he make you happy?” he asks.

Her answer hitches in her throat. The obvious response would be of course. He does what any good husband does, works, brings home a salary, sweet talks her mother and smokes cigars with her father when they visit every other Sunday.

Happiness seems to be an external factor, something people comment on and praise her. When other people say she is happy she wears it with pride, like a medal or a precious piece of jewellery.

She loves her husband, as well as any self respecting woman does. She reminds herself that’s the whole reason why she’s here.

At her silence Aemond smiles to himself and begins to write. She follows how his fingertips grip the pen and how the tendons in his hands flex.

“Wait!” she says, shuffling forward in her seat.

He pauses and looks at her like he did before, with his chin tilted down.

“No– I meant to say yes. Yes, he makes me happy.”

His eyes move around her face and briefly down, over the pearl charm hanging from her neck, her white blouse and her hands bunched in her blue skirt. She releases them when she realises he’s looking and rests them on the arms of the chair instead.

This feels like a test, one in which every word and gesture will be put to scrutiny, earning either a curious “hmm” or a scratching of the pen against the paper. She wonders which is worse.

“How long have you been married?” he asks.

“A year in July.”

“No children?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

His question leaves a tight feeling in her chest and in her gut.

Aemond sets the pen down on the desk without making a sound. “Sorry, I know these questions can be obtrusive. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but it would be useful to know what I’m working with.”

That’s an odd way to phrase it, she thinks.

“No it’s alright,” she says, her fingers moving anxiously over each other. “It’s not for lack of trying. We… try a few times a week. Usually on the weekends or when he’s not tired– he’s often tired after work.”

“And how is it?”

“Oh, um–” without thinking her hands move back into her lap and she starts to pick at the red nail polish. “He says there’s something wrong with me.”

Aemond tilts his head. “Wrong with you?”

She squeezes her thighs together at the familiar memory of her husband’s downright painful attempts to make love to her. He practically has to force his way inside of her and she can never stand it for more than a few thrusts before she pushes him off.

He was understanding for the first few months, but she can tell it’s starting to irritate him now. She doesn’t understand why it doesn’t work, what she could possibly be doing wrong.

“Does he prepare you?”

She looks up with a knitted brow. “Prepare me?”

He tuts and mutters something that sounds like “poor thing,” before scrawling another quick note.

Then he stands, rolling up the sleeves of his white coat and the black shirt underneath. “I want to check a few things,” he says, cocking his head towards the examination table on the other side of the room.

She follows dutifully, propping her hands against the leather upholstery and pushing herself up to sit on it. Her black heels don’t reach the floor. She crosses them at the ankle and lets them swing a little.

Once Aemond has washed his hands he approaches her. He’s tall, she realises as he stands before her. His hips are level with her knees and the edge of the table and while he’s not quite close enough to touch her, her legs twitch at the proximity.

She tries to avert her gaze from the somewhat intense expression in his eyes as he simply looks at her. Her eyes don’t stop moving, looking past his shoulder or down at her sides, but there’s not anything interesting to look at.

She focuses on the steady ticking of the clock, counting ten long seconds before she realises she’s holding her breath.

When she finally releases she finds herself focusing instead on the gentle sounds of Aemond’s breath through his nose, the smell of his hair gel, musky aftershave and the lingering scent of smoke.

Warm fingertips brush against her jaw as he brings her to look at him. She can feel the slight roughness of the pads of his fingers, but he’s gentle when he touches her, almost cautious.

He leans in a little closer until he’s touching her knees. She doesn’t let herself react but her heart is drumming furiously, more so when his thumb strokes over her cheek. He moves back and forth, grazing the corner of her mouth, before he swipes it over her lower lip.

She relaxes her mouth as he presses and tugs on the soft flesh. It’s somehow both terrifying and oddly reassuring.

And then he settles, pressing both of her lips into a slight pout while his fingertips rest against her jaw and the top of her neck.

“Open your mouth for me,” he says.

She stares back at him with wide eyes. Had she heard that correctly?

The corners of his mouth curl politely, waiting for her compliance.

So she does as he asks.

With his fingers holding her chin, Aemond inches his thumb into her mouth, settling on her tongue. His skin tastes clean and faintly medicinal from the amber soap.

“You can close your mouth,” he says.

She keeps her eyes on his as she closes her lips around him, careful not to touch him with her teeth.

He hums again, low and contentedly. “Good girl.”

She shudders at the sudden weightlessness in her belly.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

She gives him a small nod.

"Good," he utters, "just breathe."

She loses count of the seconds on the clock as he simply settles inside of her. She does as he says, breathing deeply through her nose, looking up at him through her eyelashes, trying to read if he's pleased or not.

When he starts to withdraw and she instinctively drags her tongue along his thumb. She looks down at his hand, the imprint of her mauve lipstick on his skin, the glistening digit and the small line of spit that trails from her mouth, which he wipes away with his fingers.

“How did that feel?” he asks.

She thinks for a moment. “Good.”

He glances down and her eyes follow, to the fabric of her skirt. When she stands it falls to her shin, but seated, the hem rides up to just below her knees. He places a wide hand on her left knee, their skin separated only by a thin layer of nylon stockings.

“These outbursts of yours,” he mutters, “are they a regular occurrence?”

“Not really,” she says.

“What do you think caused it?”

She presses her teeth together and looks away from him to think. “Lots of things I suppose. It all piles up.”

“How did it feel, to shout at your husband?”

She huffs a laugh at the instinct that appears in her head, it’s not something she should ever admit, but there’s something about Aemond’s eyes and the feeling of his hands that make her want to tell him the truth,

“I liked it, I was just so…” she shakes her head looking for the right word, but she supposes there’s a simpler explanation. “I was so angry, angrier than I’ve ever been in my life.”

“What were you angry at?” Aemond asks, his thumb starting to stroke against her thigh.

Would it be too much to list every aspect of her life that irritates her?

She hates a lot of things. She hates tidying the house just for it to get messy again. She hates it when her new shoes dig into her skin and make her bleed. She hates that she seems incapable of interacting with another person without suffering their scrutiny. She hates it when people tell her that her life is perfect.

Everything races around in her head, screaming and shouting at her until the noise becomes silent, just a throbbing pain in her head.

“Just… everything,” she groans, rubbing her fingertips against her temple. “I don’t understand it, everyone says our life together is so perfect, but I don’t feel perfect.”

His hand moves away from her and she looks up at the absence.

Aemond takes a slow breath. “Are you familiar with hysteria?”

Her heart sinks and he seems to see it in her face.

He purses his lips for a moment before he explains, “it’s essentially an excess of ill-managed emotions. It can lead to irrational behaviour and quite severe distress.”

She’s heard of the condition before, sparse stories here and there of men who had no choice but to seek proper treatment for their wives when they are too emotional… irrational… hysterical.

She’s not like those women, surely, and her husband knows that, right?

“Is that what's wrong with me?” she asks.

His mouth quirks. “Quite possibly.”

“But I’ve heard of women with this condition before. I’ve heard what their husbands do to them, I—” she can feel her eyes beginning to well with hot, stinging tears. “That’s not going to happen to me, is it?”

She hangs her head, dread pooling in her belly, until his hands cup the sides of her face. Aemond brings her gaze up into his eyes.

“Don’t send me away,” she whispers, blinking the tears from her eyes so they roll down her cheeks. “Please, there must be something you can do–”

“There there, pet,” he says, tracing his thumbs along her teartracks, “everything is going to be alright, hmm? We can sort you out.”

She nods at his reassurance and the feeling of his hands against her skin. It must be entirely improper to be so close to another man, even more so when she starts to realise just how much she likes it, a sweet sort of unease. Perhaps that’s just his nature, perhaps he’s just good at this part of his job.

For a moment he presses his lips together in a strange way, like he’s holding something back. “There is one treatment I’m keen to suggest,” he says.

“What treatment?” she asks.

He tilts his head slightly. “Hysteria is an instability of emotion. You need a release.”

“Like when I shouted at my husband?”

He smiles at that. “It felt good, didn’t it?”

She nods.

“We can undergo controlled releases,” he says, “you’ll be much happier for it.”

She takes a sharp breath when one of his hands moves down from her cheek to rest casually at her waist.

“I can start the treatment today, if you’d like?”

His face is close to hers now, She feels every flutter of his breath, the heat of his body separated by inches of empty space.

“Yes please,” she says quietly, like she might disturb the peacefulness in the room if she speaks any louder. “If it’s not too much trouble?”

“Don’t worry, pet, we’ve still got plenty of time left,” he says, stepping away. “Take your skirt off, and lie back.”

Suddenly her skin feels tight. “My skirt?”

“If you don’t mind?” he says over his shoulder as he walks towards his desk. “It just makes things a little easier, maybe the blouse too.”

She hops down from the table, heels clicking against the floor. While Aemond’s pen scratches against paper, she turns her back and starts to pick at the buttons on the top of her blouse. She pulls it over her head and folds it, setting it down on the table, where her head will go. Then she pulls down the zip on her skirt and lets it fall around her. For the slightly mortifying prospect of standing there in her stockings and undergarments, the breeze from the window washes over the bare skin of her arms and torso. It’s quite nice, a welcome relief.

She waits with her heels close together and her hands clasped in front of her. Aemond has his back to her and she watches the way the sunlight catches in the silvery streaks of his hair. He tears a sheet from the pad of prescription papers and leaves it on his desk before he moves to the sink to wash his hands. It’s methodical, like before, well rehearsed and memorised for efficiency. Does he even have to think about what he’s doing, she wonders?

Once his hands are dried he reaches into a drawer under his desk. He keeps his eyes on the small object in his hands as he walks towards her.

She straightens her back and puts her hands on the table behind her, testing her weight so she can shuffle on top of it.

Aemond looks up and she pauses.

His eyes dart up and down her body. “Shoes and stockings off too.”

Blood rushes to her cheeks but she complies, reaching down to undo the small buckles on each shoe. Once they’re under the table she stands straight and curls her thumbs around her stockings.

She looks up to Aemond. He gives her a small nod.

She starts to pull the thin material down her legs, so thin it should hardly make a difference. She shivers as the breeze meets a new part of her body. She straightens again, dutifully awaiting her next instruction.

The corners of Aemond’s mouth curl. “Perfect,” he mutters.

He steps closer to her, until she can make out the object in his hands. It’s a coppery colour, gleaming like metal, and no smaller than a tube of lipstick. He slips it into his coat pocket.

She follows Aemond’s hand as he reaches out and runs a slender finger under the strap of her brassiere. “I think we’ll keep this on,” he says.

She nods, though she doesn’t really know why.

A hum sounds in his throat and his eyes look over her face. “Lie back.”

She does as he says and fiddles with her hands, unsure of where to put them until she decides to keep them by her sides. Anticipation sets her nerves alight. She listens to every breath, each taunting footstep as Aemond comes to stand at the foot of the bed.

He moves slowly so as not to agitate her, but her whole body tenses when his hands clasp around her ankles. It’s obvious he’s trying to be gentle, but even when softly spoken his voice leaves a restless feeling in her gut. “Shh, try to relax, and just let me…” he lifts her legs up along her body until her knees are by her hips. His hands go to her thighs next and she lets out a short whimper of surprise when he pulls her closer to him.

“There we go,” he muses to himself, one hand on her thigh while he gently rests the other on her navel, over the hem of her panties.

Her hands are restless, fists clenching and nails digging into her palms.

Aemond looks down at her with a hint of concern. “You can tell me if you want to stop, at any point.”

“No it’s alright,” she breathes, suppressing the urge to arch her back.

His brows raise as he looks down, grazing his fingertips over her skin. Each movement has her breath hitching or her body squirming, no matter how hard she tries to relax, just as he’d instructed.

He brings both hands to her knees, closing them together before he reaches for her panties and slides them from her legs. She doesn’t see where he drops them. Her hands come into fists again as he gradually spreads her legs.

She’s not sure what to expect or how this is supposed to help her control her emotions, but she tries to concentrate on staying still, keeping whatever dignity she has left.

“Look at that,” Aemond hums, circling his thumbs against her inner thighs, “you’re already getting wet.”

She can feel it, the warmth pooling between her legs. No one has ever told her it’s bad, but it’s one of those things she wonders if she should be ashamed of. She tries to shift but there’s nowhere for her body to go, nowhere she can hide from him.

“I’m sorry,” she mutters, “it’s not bad, is it?”

Aemond frowns. “You mean you don’t…” he trails off as his face melts into an amused sort of sympathy, like he’s piecing together a puzzle. “Bad news for your husband maybe. It means you’re aroused.”

Aroused. She repeats the word to herself a few times.

Surely it is a bad thing to find herself in such a state, only she finds herself turning her attention to Aemond. Her gaze trails shamelessly over the veins and tendons of his hands and forearms as he kneads at her thighs, the curve of his upper lip and the tip of his tongue swiping between his teeth. If only she could read his mind, figure out what he’s thinking behind those pretty blue eyes, what hypothesis he’s playing around with inside his head.

And then he reaches into his pocket. She lifts her head to try and get a better look. The coppery object looks more like an oversized bullet, with a slightly pointed head and a black button at its base. When Aemond presses the button it starts to hum. Even the noise of it sparks a reaction from her. She feels something strange, like a shockwave flashing through her body.

“Relax,” Aemond says, bringing his other hand to her hip. “I don’t want to have to tie you down.”

“No,” she utters, “sorry.” She lets her head fall against the upholstery and stares up at the ceiling, determined not to react.

Until something presses to her centre, humming against her. Pleasure pulses through her, unfamiliar but hot and bright. Her eyes snap shut and her hips try to buck but Aemond’s hand holds her down.

“How does it feel?” he says.

Her first attempt to speak comes out as a broken whimper. “Good,” she manages, stilling her hips from trying to rock against the bullet. “Fuck…”

Something inside of her feels tight, tensing and tensing until she’s sure she can’t take any more. But he keeps it against her, making small, rhythmic movements through her folds, edging her closer to that rising feeling only to relieve her of it.

Her nails start to drag along the leather, clawing at it for purchase. She tries to stay still, to keep her hips steady but something has to give. She turns her head to the side, whimpering and groaning into her shoulder.

“There you go,” Aemond hums, as he finds a truly torturous pattern, slowly swiping upwards from her entrance to the sweet spot of her pearl, only to start over.

“Please,” she whimpers as he tears her away from that feeling again. Blissful tears blur her vision and she feels utterly weightless. “I can’t stand it…”

He lingers the bullet just below her pearl. She’s so close to something. She can feel it.

“Do you want to stop?” Aemond asks.

“No!” she cries.

He starts to move in small circles now and her body feels like it’s burning. “Just take it,” he says, “you can take it, just be a good girl for me, hmm?”

“Yes… yes…” she utters like a dreamy chant.

The button clicks and the vibrations increase. She hardly registers the wanton noises she makes, but she’s all too aware of wet sounds of her arousal and Aemond’s short hums when her hips start to buck again.

“You’re so close, aren’t you?” Aemond says. “Come on, pet, you can do it, you’re almost there…”

She feels the hum of her throat as she groans his name and suddenly the tight feeling snaps. Her whole body releases, just as Aemond promised, and she feels herself come undone. He guides her through it, the bullet whirring against her and his hand steady on her hip.

When he finally withdraws, her limbs don’t feel like her own. She listens to her own breath and feels the rise and fall of her chest as she wills herself into a state of awareness. She props herself onto her elbows and her eyes meet Aemond’s.

He smirks, and looks down again, gently drawing a thumb through her folds.

Her back arches and her breath hitches, though not as intensely as before. She can feel how slick she is now, how easily he moves against her. She eases under his touch and just lets it feel good.

“You did so well,” he says, “fuck, the way your cunt twitches when you come…”

She gazes at him with a bewildered kind of awe, at his parted lips, the golden glow of sunlight trailing down his jaw and his neck, and now the dark, almost hungry look in his eyes. She can already feel the desire rising again, the wanting for more.

“There’s something else I want to try,” he says. His thumb slips further down, teasing her entrance. “If you’ll let me?”

She holds her bottom lip between her teeth and nods.

“Good girl,” he hums.

That alone has her trying to roll her hips against him, but then he’s gone. She wants to groan in protest but keeps her mouth shut as she watches him remove his white coat and black shirt, both of which he drapes over his chair. For his seemingly slender frame, he’s surprisingly muscular.

With his back still turned to her she watches his hands move to his trousers. She hears the clinking of his belt buckle and the sound of his fly coming undone. He reaches back into the same drawer, tears something between his teeth and discards a small, white packet on the desk.

As he comes to stand before her once more she can’t help the small smile that graces her lips, unashamedly appreciating the muscles of his torso, his pectorals and the lines of his abdominals, and his now freed cock, already hard, and certainly larger than her husband’s.

He stands before her once again, bringing her knees down so he can slot himself between her legs.

She can already feel herself twitching and her heart racing.

He doesn’t waste much time on preamble. “You’re fucking soaked,” he mutters, lining the his cock to her entrance and taking a hold of her thigh, “be a shame to waste it.”

She expects it to hurt when he pushes inside of her, and for a moment it does. She feels the way he stretches her out with just the tip. He moves slowly, dragging in and out of her, each time pushing in a little more. She can take the pain, at least until it starts to melt away. After a few strokes it feels effortless.

Aemond lets out a sharp grunt as he comes close to bottoming out. “How does it feel?” he asks with a small amount of strain.

It’s a different kind of pleasure, it’s duller and deeper, less frantic but it still burns in the best way.

“Good,” she breathes.

Aemond’s hands take hold of her waist as he increases his pace, dragging her into him to match his thrusts.

The air feels hot and thick now, the ticking of the clock drowned out by laboured panting, breathless moans and the soft sounds of skin meeting skin.

“Fuck you’re tight,” he hisses, sinking his fingertips deeper into her flesh.

“I don’t suppose that’s a medical term?” she says with a dazed grin.

Aemond huffs a laugh but it seems to spur him on, his jaw slack and his brow furrowed in determination.

She wraps her legs around his hips and reaches up for him, but all she manages is to graze her fingertips over his torso. He snatches her wrists, leaning over to pin them on either side of her head as he brutally starts to snap her hips into hers. Like this he fucks her deeper and harder against the leather.

She feels her release building slowly, his cock brushing against a spot that has her eyes watering again.

“Going to come for me?” Aemond grits out, pressing his forehead to hers.

“I want to,” she whimpers, arching her back to get closer to him, “fuck–”

He releases one of her wrists and slips his hand between them, circling her pearl with the pads of his fingers.

He brings his lips to the shell of her ear. “You’re squeezing me so good,” he whispers harshly, “nearly there, nearly there sweetheart…”

Her legs start to shake as her pleasure peaks and her climax washes over her. Every part of her body tenses and moulds itself into him. Aemond doesn’t relent, he keeps fucking her until she’s whining and squirming, until finally he lets out a guttural groan into her neck. His hips still and she feels him throbbing inside of her, spilling himself into the condom.

For a moment she’s content to lie there, no matter how uncomfortable the surface of the bed is. She likes Aemond’s weight on top of her, his breath on her neck, the scent of him, the sweat from his brow against her skin. But they don’t stay like that for long. He pulls away from her and makes quick work of disposing of the condom and tucking himself back into his trousers.

“Nothing wrong in that regard,” he says, reaching for her hand to help her sit up. “If you’re having trouble it’s the fault of your husband. He needs to prepare you before he tries to fuck you.”

She flicks her hair from her neck to relieve some of the heat. “Oh, right.” She can feel herself trembling, but she feels light, like a weight has been lifted from her shoulders.

“How are you feeling now?” he asks, placing a reassuring hold to her arm.

“Good,” she says.

Aemond carefully helps her back into her panties, stockings, shoes, blouse and skirt. He rights her necklace, wipes the dried tears from her cheeks, drags his thumb around her mouth where her lipstick has smudged and helps her down from the bed, keeping a firm hand on her until she nods to let him know she’s alright.

He tears off a prescription paper and hands it to her. She quickly skims over it. He’s not prescribed any medication or recommended a lobotomy, thank God.

“Contraction therapy?” she reads, looking up at him with a raised brow.

“I want to see you twice weekly,” he says, buttoning up his shirt. “Maybe we can go for three times a week, if you feel it would be beneficial.”

She tries her best to hide her smile. “Well I’m sure you know best, doctor.”

General Taglist (comment if you wanna be added): @randomdragonfires @jamespotterismydaddy

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quirrrky · 1 year ago

Text

KUROO—your husband, was happily washing the dishes and you're admiringly watching him with so much contentment in your heart.

Today’s his birthday, he changed a bit over the year. He looked more mature, yet as goofy as ever whistling while he rinsed the plate. Things seemed so mundane right now, but your heart was full.

You wrapped your arms around him from behind, your cheek squished against the broad of his back and his scent filled you in comfort. His heart dropped several floors down feeling your warmth around him. If he wasn’t holding something, he’d immediately hug you back.

Gone were the days when you both had extra time to celebrate outside. He had important things to do at work, and you had your fair share of tasks in the office too. Both of you were still even in your corporate clothes with him wearing the suit you gave him the last time. He ditched the coat off, leaving the gray vest on matched with the cute black cat on red tie, which was his favorite by the way.

For tonight, you made arrangements at home, agreeing that he’d take care of setting up a little something in your dining room while you dialed in for a takeout to have his favorite food for delivery instead. Now, he insisted to wash the dishes himself.

“I’m almost done,” Tetsu said, and you nuzzled closely against him, your embrace tightening. You clung to him like he's the most precious in this world, because he was...for this day, pfft. “You love me that much, huh?” he quipped, teasingly as usual.

“I do,” you answered.

It’s his birthday but it felt like you’re the one being blessed.

A few years ago, you never thought that you’d have someone like him in your arms like this.

For such a long time, the thought of being with someone was a faraway dream. There were countless nights when you’d cry yourself to sleep, wondering if there’s really someone for you out there. There were times when you wished you had a hand to grasp, arms that could wrap around you when you’re beat and tired. Someone who’d hold you close when you felt like giving up.

You spent days gaslighting yourself with the thought that you might not end up happy in a relationship in the first place. All those times, you’re so close to giving up on love and finding it.

Tetsurou turned around, facing you and enveloping you in his strong arms, he caressed your head and his eyes held so much love that you couldn’t explain. Everytime you looked at him you were reminded that dreams do come true.

“Who would have thought that I’d have someone like you?” He said as if he was talking to himself.

You smiled your tears away. You wanted to ask the heavens the same thing. Who would have thought that I’d have someone like him?

Slowly, he started swaying you and you rested your head on his chest. There’s no music on, just the sound of his heart in your ear and the sound of your peaceful breathing harmonizing together in your empty apartment.

It was so simple yet it’s everything you never thought you’d ask for.

“Thank you...” you murmured.

“For what?” he replied.

“For being born.” For being in my life, for being one of the greatest wishes granted to me. There’s a lot you’d like to say but you kept it inside, avoiding being dramatic as it was his birthday after all.

Tetsu sighed, “If any, I should be the most thankful,” he parted a little and lovingly caressed the top of your head. “Because I’m still alive and I still get to hold you close like this.”

Kuroo didn’t have a solid idea of what love could be like. He didn’t even have a family that showed him how, but in your arms, he found the home his heart had been searching for all this time.

He made many mistakes, broke many hearts and had his heart broken. Love existed only as a word for him until he met you and finally, he found someone who made that word something real, something he could finally believe in.

He probed into your eyes, seeking even deeper into your soul. You tiptoed, face closing in on his. Whispering, he asked, “Would it be cheesy if I say that you’re the best gift of my life?”

You chuckled and nodded your head in agreement. Silly, boy. Your silly boy.

“I guess I’ll just kiss you then...” Your husband grinned and you both giggled like highschoolers. He nuzzled on your cheek, giving it a small kiss, which made you turn for him to capture your sweet lips.

Tetsu had an arm around your waist and a hand cupping the back of your head, while you had your hands laced at his nape. He pulled your body close to his and dipped you back, kissing you deeply with such unbridled passion, intensity and love.

Scooping you up, he carried you in bridal style and broke the kiss with a ridiculous question.

“Can I unwrap my present now?” Birthday Boy asked with a cute pout.

You were chuckling and playfully returned, “What present?”

“The one in the pretty dress,” he replied with a mischievous grin.

You laughed as he took you inside the bedroom and threw you in bed. Soon, a squeal and fits of laughter were heard from your room and you both wouldn't have it any other way.

#hubby birthday kuroo ❤️🖤#kuroo x reader #kuroo fluff #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu fluff #kuroo scenarios #kuroo drabble #kuroo x you #kuroo x y/n #kuroo tetsurou x reader

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ripleylove · 11 months ago

Text

SFW alphabet ; Rhea Ripley.

pairing: Rhea Ripley x fem reader.

genre: fluff <3

A/N: I miss Rhea. These are my thoughts.

⋆ ˚｡⋆𔓘⭒๋࣭

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Rhea is for sure clingy. Like, she'd be always close to you, holding your hand or wrapping her strong arms around your waist,and she always wants to feel your touch.

I think she loves to show affection through kisses and,more precisely,with sleepy cuddles. Her arm draped over your body carelessly,while her left arm is under your head,serving as a pillow (best pillow ever besides her chest).

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

She would be those kind of friends that are a "ride or die": you and her would do the most stupid and insane things together,all while enjoying each other's company. Also, she'd be your safe place to run to at hard times,her always listening and always giving you advices would always make you feel better and,most importantly,special.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Cuddles with her are MAGNIFICENT!!!! Like,of course she cuddles (and loves to be cuddled) and of course she'd be like a mama bear,cause her strong arms and her big figure would wrap you up like a burrito so perfectly, that you would never want to go out of her arms. Also,she loves to just spend days in bed with you,under the covers,in which the only thing that will be done,is giving and receiving cuddles.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

For sure,Rhea would be the most excited about settling down with you and starting a family: she only wanted you as her girlfriend, wife,and mother of her children. When she would see you playing with little girls and boys,she'd always have major baby fever,with one of her biggest smiles on her face.

To her,cooking and cleaning doesn't feel like any chore at all,if she gets to do it with you. For example, she would be eager to do the dishes with you after lunch or dinner,you would be washing and cleaning and she would be drying and placing the dishes in their respective places.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

If she wanted to break up with you,of course she would talk to you about it. For any reason,for example the distance while going on the road or any lack of communication, she'd always respect the way you think and you would do the same for her.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Rhea,being head over heels for you,would be the most loyal person you've ever met. If someone tries to flirt with her,she'd always shoo them away,because no one could ever get her like you do. If,for example, you would get jealous of her TV relationship with Dominik,she'd do anything it takes to show you that it's all fake and that you're the only one ruling her heart.

She would like to get married 2 or 3 years in the relationship, because she doesn't want to rush things,but if the love you felt for each other was too strong,she'd propose as soon as possible.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

She'd be so so so patient it would make you want to cry. If you struggle with past traumas or anxiety, in the first months of this relationship she would do late night researches on the topic while you were sleeping,reading any tips about panic attacks etc.,so she could help you without feeling helpless.

Physically, she's also very gentle and sweet. After you'd come home late at night,very exhausted, she would remove your jacket and your shoes, before wrapping you in her embrace. I also think she's the type to lay you on the bed, and to massage your sore shoulders,slowly lulling you to sleep.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Oh,as said before,she's THE hugger. Almost a professional hugger,I must say. Head on your shoulders,arms wrapped around your waist,and you caressing her back: that's how she likes it. If she could, she would be attached to you 24/7,because your arms are so warm and so lovely and the list could go on!! Hugging her would feel like heaven, literally. Especially if she'd start to tickle you,that would be literal paradise,but anything she does is heavenly (duh).

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Oh,I think she'd say it in like 2 or 3 weeks. I SAID WHAT I SAID!!!! Because,c'mon,it isn't impossible to fall in love with you and your personality. The way you'd always blush around her,or how you'd always share your food with her,or even the way you'd shily slide you soft hand in hers. She would be head over heels for you,like,I'm not even joking. Also she'd be saying that she loves you every single minute. Over text,with calls, while colliding her lips with yours etc.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Rhea doesn't get jealous easily,because she knows she's yours and you're hers. But,sometimes,you don't even realise that someone is actually talking to you to get you in bed,and often you just mistake that intent for a simple and unhurtful small talk. And this thing happened many times in many places,for example in a a bar. Rhea,ever so caring and attentive,would notice that,and she would come over to you (and the person you're talking with) and put her arm around your waist. "So,baby,where do you wanna go now?"

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

The feeling of her kisses would be like feathers,her plump and soft lips lovingly meeting yours in a passionate and sweet kiss. While kissing,she would hold your cheeks with her rough hands,and you would caress her long hair,sliding your fingers through her black strands. Her favourite places to get kisses are: lips (obviously), neck,hands and head. (although, sometimes you would kiss the tip of her nose,and she would act like she hates it,but she actually loves it).

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Around children,at first she might be anxious, but when you'd help her to hold little babies or when you would join a toddler that was playing with barbies,she would start to warm up to the children. She'd have the preference to newborns and little babies,because she dies from their cuteness,but she also loves toddlers! This whole babies thing started when your bestfriend Mina asked you to babysit her children while she worked,and Rhea joined too. (Now she got a little attached to the babies,but this is a secret).

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

To be honest,mornings with Rhea are different based on her and your mood. If you both are tired,you would stay in bed until afternoon while either sleeping or cuddling while watching any TV series; If you both want to try cooking breakfast, you would try cooking pancakes (which often would come out either burned or raw) or,if you both feel motivated enough,you would even go to the gym with her.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Obviously, she's a night owl. She goes to sleep at least at 2 or 3 AM on a daily basis,and,as much as you try to keep up with her sleeping schedule,you just fall asleep as soon as possible. But,when you would manage to stay awake with her,you would be doing the most random things: playing uno,watching south park together,doing each other's make up... in the end,nights with Rhea are never boring.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Rhea would talk about herself and her past only later in her relationship. During your first date,she would talk about her passions,her likings and her disliking, but she wouldn't go past that. Only when she started fully trusting you,she would talk about her experiences, and about the sad and happy things that happened to her. And you would do the same thing for her,of course.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

As I already said before,she is the most patient person ever. She understands your struggles,and doesn't shame you,instead,she helps you to overcome them. She hardly gets mad at you,but when she does,she doesn't shout or raise her hands,she just closes herself in your shared room to cool off. And,obviously, everything goes back to normal after a good talk <3.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

She would be the human version of a memories box: she would remember any little detail of yours,your favourite color,what you like to do and even your habits. Everytime you tell her something about you,it's like a little drawer in the back of her mind opens,and in there gets stuffed the new information.

She would buy you a purse you told her you've always liked,and you would be surprised. "You remembered?" You would ask,and she would answer: "Obviously! It's the australian memory!"

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Rhea's favourite memory could be when you went to the beach together. You played in the water and even had a swimming competition (that she let you win). Also,you tanned,and while doing this,Rhea had her hand over your waist,and the print of her hand was very noticeable. She had to take a picture,that she even posted on her Instagram stories,and she laughed her ass off for almost 30 minutes,while you were sat here pouting.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Saying that Rhea is overprotective is and understatement: when you go out,she always holds your hand and always protects you from paparazzi,to keep you safe from any uncomfortable situations.

When you protect her though, she feels butterflies making their way in her stomach. For example, if a nosy fan would bother Rhea with uncomfortable questions,you would immediately jump in the situation and protect you girlfriend without hesitation (she thought about it for weeks).

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Even though she's often on the road,she always finds time and effort for dates during special occasions (or even to pamper you). Taking you to fancy restaurants, going on a walk together, taking you on the beach or even going to get nails together were things you would do on a weekly basis,since Rhea always likes to spoil you.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

One of her bad habits is that she always cracks her knuckles, and you always scold her,and during your scolding she looks like a lost puppy (but she never listens and you keep on scolding her). "Rhea stop doing that!" You'd shout,and she would raise her hands in surrender. "Okay,Okay,damn!"

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?

She doesn't care that much about her looks,because she knows she's beautiful, and you even tell her everyday that she doesn't need makeup because hers it's a natural beauty; but she likes to take care of herself: doing her hair,her skincare,and choosing carefully her outfits. (she might get ready just to hear you compliment her,but nobody knows).

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Oh,without you,she would feel like every piece of her puzzle was missing,and she would make sure you know that. When she's on the road for RAW,you'd get a "i miss u :(" text at least every hour,and when she'd get to her hotel,she would immediately videocall you to stay up Kate while she watched you sleep <3

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

She would totally have a photo album in her gallery which contained 1000+ pics of you in any context: sleeping with drool coming out of your mouth,eating burnt pancakes,getting your make up done,and her favourite one is the one she took with her professional camera on your first date,that she still has in the back of her phone,in her cover.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

I think Rhea would hate people who ghost others. This might be,as she thinks,one of the worst trait a person could have. Also she hates people who don't help people in need for their own dignity and image. These are the biggest red flags a person could have!!

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

She just has to be next to you,or else she won't even close her eyes. Your heat and your natural smell lull her to sleep,and,without having you sleeping next to her,it would be impossible for Rhea to feel comfortable in a cold and lonely hotel room. That's why,like I have said before,she needs to facetime you,because even seeing you sleep,makes her feel better. <3

taglist: @stellakiddsblog @bibibi-tchx @p-mp @teenagedramaqueenlisa @thegalacticnacho091 @judgementdaysunshine

#italian moment #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley #rhea ripley imagine #rhea ripley fluff #rhea ripley oneshot #rhea ripley headcanons #rhea ripley fanfic #rhea ripley alphabet #rhea ripley sfw alphabet #sfw alphabet

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riveroftales · 8 months ago

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😗Ummm…. Do you think you could do a little Drabble or some HCs about Genya with a mom figure? Like, maybe Himejima gets married and his wife meets Genya and is determined to give him a stable family and a good female role model. Like sure he totally ignores or is embarrassed by her at first but then she makes him food or cuts up watermelon for him 🥺 Maybe he eventually opens up to the “mom” and she tries to help him untangle all his teenage anger. MY POOR BOY NEEDS A FAMILY AND HIMEJIMA CANT DO IT ALONE. (Also pls feel free to ignore if you don’t like the prompt. Tysm I love your writing and the blind Genya AU kills me in the best way possible)

➳ ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ

𝖢𝖢'𝗌 𝖭𝗈𝗍𝖾: AHHH IM SO SORRY FOR BEING INACTIVE MY EXAMS LITERALLY START THIS THURSDAY AND IVE BEEN CRYING BECAUSE OF IT🥹

Himejima was like a father to Genya. His father was an asshole, so having a good role model made Genya adore him so much more.

He loved his mother. His mother was gentle, smiled a lot and despite being weak, she was able to protect.

He didn’t have anyone in his life to replace his mother and he wanted to keep it that way. That is, until Himejima got married.

Genya was beyond happy that Himejima got the chance to fall in love with someone who loved him and who he loved back, but he didn’t know how to approach the new addition to their tiny family of two.

The poor boy’s cheeks would always flare up intensely whenever he saw you. At first, you thought he genuinely liked you which led you to reject him politely during the hashira training one day in front of everyone else.

It was after Genya passed out from embarrassment when Tanjiro told you Genya just got nervous around every girl whether he liked them or not.

Genya was basically your son, so you had a mission to get him to think of you as a mother.

Even though he ignored you at most times, you managed to talk to him even if he didn’t respond. You opened up about everything and told tales of your past.

You ruffled his hair often with a soft smile before you always went up to your husband to kiss his large hand since he was far too tall for you to kiss his cheek.

Genya stayed up late often to train, so you also started staying up to make him little snacks occasionally.

You would call his name and give him a small plate of a few pieces of onigiri and smile when you see his eyes light up as he ate. Your favourite part was occasionally surprising him with another small plate of watermelon cut into adorable shapes.

You really babied him a lot. He was a huge kid, but you couldn’t help it. Genya was like a shy tiger.

The kid occasionally started warming up to you and he started initiating conversations. He could see the way your eyes lit up every time he made effort into your relationship.

You often say together with the three of them, showing them how to make some of your dishes. Himejima would help with the cutting and washing, while you guided Genya with the cooking.

You cried for the first time in years in your husband’s arms after Genya had left for a mission and he had said, “Bye, mom! I’ll be back soon! Please make a lot of food for me when I get back!”

You obeyed your baby’s request. How could you not? You loved seeing the hidden joy in his face whenever you fed him some food directly. Himejima smiled to himself when he heard the laughter his newfound family let out. He was beyond thankful to the gods above that he was alive to experience something so precious.

Genya soon realised that you weren’t his mother. You were never his mother, and you would never be his mother, but he would love you the same. He loved his mother, but he also loved you. His mother taught him how to love because it was all she could teach before she passed, while you helped teach him the rest.

You were there to hold him when he cried in your shoulders on the day his older brother nearly blinded him. You didn’t judge him for eating demons. You didn’t look down at him when he confessed he couldn’t use breathing forms.

You were there for everything. You were there during both Genya’s and Himejima’s sparring sessions, you were there to cook for your family, you were there to listen, you were there to love them. You were even there when Himejima had to leave abruptly to the demon amuse headquarters after an emergency meeting was announced. You were there when you saw Genya fall in the trapdoors on the floor which appeared so suddenly because you didn’t have a good feeling of leaving him alone, making you run up to his training ground to retrieve your son.

You ran as fast as you could when your husband’s kasugai crow led you to where the big battle was happening, only reaching during daybreak.

You felt your heart drop and tears sting your eyes when you saw corpses everywhere, but the sight of your unmoving husband was the only thing you were focused on.

The kakushi had to hold you back even when you screamed at the top of your lungs, yelling at Himejima to open his eyes.

You choked on your tears when you asked about Genya, your son. You knew he was also gone from the silence you received.

You couldn’t even cry anymore. Your eyes just closed before you passed out.

You woke up with a message from Sanemi that Genya had turned into ashes. Your little boy didn’t have a body to bury, meaning he’ll never have a proper funeral.

You folded Genya’s clothes really neatly and placed it in your dead husband’s arms as he laid so beautifully in the casket. You placed your son’s gun on top of his uniform, unable to watch the burial since tears were blurring your vision.

You woke up the next day, wishing you could feel the weight of Genya’s leg over your stomach as he slept in the most atrocious position ever while Himejima’s arms refused to let you go even in sleep one last time.

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #genya shinazugawa #gyomei himejima #kny himejima #demon slayer himejima #kimetsu no yaiba genya #demon slayer fluff #kimetsu no yaiba fluff #himejima x reader #genya angst #himejima angst #demon slayer angst #kimetsu no yaiba angst

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lcvejoy · 2 years ago

Text

and we hold onto this (for whatever reason)

wilbur soot x gn!reader

tw!: angst, breakups, food mention, crying, other than that it’s fluffy and sweet. not proofread

word count: 1,248

a/n: literally wrote this in 10 minutes and didn’t read it over so i’m sorry if it makes literally 0 sense lmaoooo. i hope y’all like it!! (also this picture of wil is so cute hes so-)

there’s a stale feeling in the air as you’re surrounded by your friends. a large table, a potluck dinner, laughter and 5 different conversations, all while brown eyes with your same sadness across and to the left of you attempts to impossibly avoid your gaze.

wilbur joins in one of the conversations, you can hear his laughter and smooth voice. it’s all that seems to reach your ears as you play with the food on your plate. you missed the sound of his carefree and light voice, his laugh sweeter than nectar. a pang of sadness hits your chest like a tidal wave. a feeling you’ve invited to the dinner table often these past few weeks, but having him here in front of you, hearing his voice and laugh in the room and not in your head, has made the sadness hurt even more. it hits your chest, knocks the wind out of you, makes you feel like you’ve been thrown backwards.

“y/n? did you hear me?” a voice comes from your right, causing you to flinch and drop the fork in your hand. the sound is loud, it makes you physically cringe as you hear the conversations die down and feel multiple eyes on you. you lean down to grab the fork,

“no, sorry. what were you saying?” you respond quietly, looking over at your friend and placing the fork down beside your plate.

“i asked if you were okay. you seem like you’re in space” they say, voice quiet and full of compassion. you nod, forcing a smile on your face. how weird is it to be seen, studied, known. your friends see through you. you wonder if wilbur does too.

“yeah” you whisper, “i’m okay. sorry. didn’t get much sleep last night” you let out a light laugh. they smile back at you, a half-crooked, sad smile. a hand reaches up to squeeze your shoulder - as if to say ‘i know you’re lying, but we don’t have to talk about it’, before they turn back around to continue their conversation. you finally look around as conversations have sparked back to life, scanning the table before reaching wilbur’s spot. he’s looking at you. his mouth slightly agape, his eyes sad. you hold his gaze for a beat, before grabbing your fork and standing.

“m’gonna go wash this” you mumble for no one in particular to hear, as you scurry to the kitchen. you sigh as you reach the room, running your hands through your hair and leaning down onto the counter. the wound of yours and wilbur’s breakup is still so fresh, still so new, still prone to infection. seeing him is harder than expected, but this get together had been planned for too long for either of you to cancel.

with another sigh, you grab your fork and turn on the tap, beginning to wash it. your mind wanders as you grab the dish soap and sponge - you planned a future with wilbur. you thought he was the one. your parents loved him. god, you loved him. you wanted all the stupid, gross, lovey-dovey shit with him. a big wedding, a small family, a white house with a fenced in backyard, cats and dogs, growing old together. you would’ve done it all with wilbur.

“i think it’s clean” a familiar voice cuts through your thoughts. you flinch, dropping the fork into the sink. your head whips over to the voice, seeing wilbur standing there, looking at you. you hadn’t noticed the tears streaming down your cheeks until he brought you back to reality, causing you to quickly wipe them with your sleeve. you sniff, “well, yaknow, just had to be sure” you chuckle, though it comes out sad and strained.

there’s a silence, the air feels heavy, as you both just look at one another.

“y/n…” wilbur starts. you shake your head. “don’t. it’s okay” you reassure, breaking your gaze from him to look down at the fork in the sink. you grab it, walking over to the dish towels hung over the oven handle.

“i’m sorry” wilbur whispers.

“i said dont, wilbur” you sigh, looking back up to him. he looks just as broken and disheveled as you do.

he nods his head. a silence washes over the room.

“i miss you” his voice cracks, his eyes gather tears but he quickly wipes them away.

“wil-“

“i know we agreed it was best to part ways but it’s killing me, y/n” wilbur cuts you off, his voice is quiet but filled with emotion. you stay quiet, your heartbeat loud in your ears as you take shaky breaths.

“i-its so hard. so fucking hard to pretend im okay with this. that im fine. t-that i really believe it’s for the best” wilbur chokes out, he gulps before continuing, “because i don’t. i don’t think it is.”

you close your eyes to avoid the tears forming. you shake your head.

“wil, please stop” you beg “we both have other things to focus on. i mean, you have the band and-“

“oh, fuck the band!” wilbur shouts. your eyes shoot open to look at him as he brings his fingers up to pinch his nose bridge. he looks at you “fuck the band. fuck streaming. fuck everything, y/n. if it means i lose you, i don’t want any of it.” wilbur’s voice calms, it’s quieter.

you sigh and shake your head, “i would never ask that of you. you know that” you whisper “you love that band. and you love touring. and you love making music. and i love watching you do it, wil, i love seeing you happy but i-“ your voice breaks as a tear falls down your cheek, “but i cant sit there and wait for you to make time for me anymore. you were busy and you were happy and i waited and it’s fine but i- i couldn’t wait anymore. a-and all your promises, all the missed dates, all the times i spent sleeping alone, i just- it was too hard.”

wilbur takes a step towards you, searching your face for a reaction. when you don’t react, he walks over to you, standing in front of you. hesitantly, he reaches his hands to cup your face, wiping your tears with his thumb as his own tears fall from his eyes. he leans down and rests his forward against yours. a shaky sigh escapes your lips as you breathe in his scent.

“then i’ll wait for you this time” he whispers, “whenever you’re ready for me, i’ll be here. ready to change, to do whatever it takes, to show you the love you deserve.”

a wet laugh escapes your lips as you sniff, reaching up to hold his forearms as you close your eyes.

“i love you, y/n” he whispers, “i don’t think i’m capable of not loving you.”

you nod. “me neither” you agree.

his forehead leaves yours, being replaced by his lips. a lingering kiss on your forehead. he steps back, grabbing hold of your hands as you both look into each others teary eyes.

“whenever you’re ready” wilbur whispers. you nod - “okay” you whisper back. he smiles, as do you, before he walks out of the room.

you look down at the fork on the counter. a forgotten task. you smile, leaning over to pick it up. inspecting it in your hands. a breath, a sniff, a final wipe of your eyes.

whenever i’m ready, you think.

#wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot fic #dsmp x reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt x y/n #mcyt #wilbur x you #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur

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redheadloverr · 8 months ago

Text

How he comforts you when having a depressive episode

TW: alluding to a depressive episode

A/N this is mainly for me, hoping other people will find comfort in this <3 (might make other character variations)

gn!reader x childe

Promt

your boyfriend has noticed that youve been rather distant recently and hes started to worry about you. you two dont live together so one day he decides to come over and check up on you. he brings your favorite snacks as well.

Childe noticed you were rather distant both over text and in your daily calls. though Childe has a busy schedule, he makes room to come check up on you unannounced.

you were curled up in bed, practically crying your eyes out when you hear a knock. you hadnt even gotten ready for the day yet. you slowly get out of bed and walk over to your door to see who could possibly be here at this hour. you check the peephole and notice your boyfriend standing outside your door with what seems like.. snacks? and flowers? you try your best to make your voice sound perfectly normal as you open the door and greet him. “Hi, baby.. what are you doing here?” his eyes soften as he see’s you. he whispers, “i knew it.” before he gives you a small smile. “i brought you snacks!” he says, handing them out to you. “oh and these are from liyue, i thought youd like them.” he looks at you and smiles gently, you can tell hes holding himself back from embracing you and planting a kiss on your head. you let him in, placing the snacks and flowers on your kitchen counter. his eyes shift all over your apartment, noticing how eerily clean it is.

“have you been eating?” he asks softly, though you can tell there was only one right answer.. and you had only wrong answers. “i..” you hesitated, and thats all he needed. he sighs and goes to your fridge, looking over it and seeing what he can make for you. “you dont have to make me food, i can just make something after you leave” you say, feeling like a total bother. he shushes you softly before looking up at you, “im not leaving.” he says with a warm smile. you try to protest telling him he has work but everything you say seems to go through one ear out the other. you sigh, too exhausted to even try to fight him on this. he hums happily as he finishes making you food, he serves it to you and tells you to ‘dig in’. although the thought of eating made you absolutely disgusted, the food he made always smells and taste delicious. he picks up your fork, grabbing a bit of food before moving it to your mouth. “say ah” he says, and you obliged. he smiles as he watches you chew the food. “is it good?” he asks, what he really means is ‘will you please eat it?’ and you have no other way to respond but with a nod, grabing the fork from his hands and continuing to eat as he heads into your bedroom. you finish eating your food, going to wash the dishes when you hear childe walk back into the kitches saying “what are you doing? youre not doing the dishes, go sit down on the couch.” although you’re happy to not be doing dishes, or any chores for that matter, you feel extremely guilty for making him do all of this while hes probably tired after work everyday. you go to sit on the couch and start to silently cry a little when childe comes back, seeing you try to wipe your tears away before he can see them. he sighs, and sits next to you, holding your hand. “baby, i love you. please dont shut me out, i want to make you feel better but in order for that to happen you have to communicate with me. i know you arent feeling the best right now and you’re probably feeling worthless and guilty and like a burden but you arent. i love you and i wouldnt be here if i didnt love you, okay?” he pulls you in to a hug as you start to cry harder into his chest. he pats your back, kissing the top of your head and holding you tightly. you finally pull away from his hug, looking up at him.

he smiles at you, quickly patting your head before he tells you he’ll be back. he gets up to go to your laundry room and back to your bedroom. he washed your sheets, you didnt even have to step foot in your bedroom to know he did. he comes back with a smile on his face as he brings back a blanket from your closet. “wanna watch a movie?” he says before he lightly throws you a plush you had in your room, your favorite plush, and sets the blanket down as he goes to turn on the tv. he turns on a movie before going to turn all the lights off, grabbing the snacks he bought earlier to the couch along with your favorite juice and places them down on the coffee table in front of you before sitting down beside you and wrapping the two of you in the blanket, starting the movie. you try your best to watch the movie but being with your boyfriend like this and seeing him try his hardest to make you feel even the slightest bit better always makes your heart pound. he’s your comfort person and although you still felt like a burden, him being there with you calmed you down enough to finally be able to eat and sleep even just for a little bit.

you wake up the following morning in bed with your boyfriend. the last thing you remember is that you fell asleep on childe’s shoulders during the movie and he must’ve carried you to bed and stayed with you all night. you smile to yourself, gently rubbing his cheek before silently getting up to go to the bathroom. the second you leave the bed and close the door, he sighs. ‘thank god, i’m so glad you’re awake..’ he whispers under his breath, relieved. he sits up, trying to compose himself before getting himself up to go cook up some breakfast. you come out of the bathroom, rubbing your eyes, wondering where your boyfriend had gone. a part of you thought maybe you had imagined it all, maybe he already left? certainly he wouldn’t… but would be? “Y/N! are you out of the bathroom? come here, my love!” you hear him call out to you, a sense of comfort washes over you. you quickly rush to the kitchen, facing your boyfriend. “Good morning, Y/N..” he brushes your cheek. “Good morning, Ajax.” you both embrace each other, with an added kiss to start the day.

you feel much better, much safer, now that he’s here with you.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact childe #genshin childe #genshin impact childe x reader #genshin childe x reader #childe x reader #childe #childe tartaglia ajax #genshin tartaglia x reader #genshin tartagalia #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact tartaglia #tartaglia #childe tartagalia #tartagalia genshin impact

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idontplaytrack · 1 month ago

Note

can I request a regina x reader fic where Reader takes care of and comforts regina during one of her bad back pain flare ups? a lot of hurt/comfort please. thank you!

My Body Is a Cage

Regina George x fem! reader

Warnings: chronic pain + symptoms, hurt/comfort, some crying

‘My body is a cage

That keeps me from dancing with the one I love

But my mind holds the key’

- w.c.: 1.5k

The day started out fine, great actually. Regina made breakfast for the both of you since she woke up a little earlier than you did that morning. You two ate together, enjoying each other’s company in comfortable silence. Then, you kissed her goodbye before she left for work. You washed up the dishes then got dressed for work as well. Everything went as per usual, until you got home and saw her sitting in bed, in the dark. The golden hue of the setting sun barely illuminated the apartment, and the silence seemed so tense, it was loud.

Something was wrong. “Hey, what’s wrong? Do you have a migraine?”

She opened her eyes and saw you, then she shook her head, “No. It’s…it’s my back.”

“I tripped on a wire at work and it somehow made my back go nuts.” Her eyes screwed shut in obvious discomfort as she sighed.

“Did you get hurt?” Your eyes went wide, you walked over to sit down next to her.

“No, but it seems I took one wrong step and my back just decided to flare up.” She laughed wryly, annoyed.

“Did you take your meds?”

“No, I need to eat before I take it but I have no appetite.” She admitted.

You frowned, “Lay down, hm? I’ll think of something.”

“I don’t want to eat, y/n.” Regina answered, exasperated.

“Alright.” You rubbed her arm, “Just lay down for a bit, yeah? On your stomach. I’ll massage your back, see if that helps a little?”

She shrugged and slowly moved to lay down. You helped her so didn’t have to exert too much. You didn’t talk, or force her to talk while you massaged her back. Regina had laid her head down on folded arms, her eyes fluttering shut as you put pressure on the painful area of her back, the tension and aching going away slowly.

“Is it helping?” You asked quietly after some time. She nodded.

She hummed, “Mhm.” Her voice was shaking, like she was seconds away from being in tears. “It’s okay.” You assured, “It’s okay, I got you.”

“I hate this.” She mumbled.

“I know, baby. It’s gonna be okay, I’ll take care of you.”

And then came the tears. She started crying, trying not to make a sound. You weren’t sure if it was out of frustration or from the pain, or both. Maybe it was both. But either way, she was crying and your heart was breaking. “Is there anything you are craving for dinner? I’ll cook it for you, I’ll order in…anything.”

“Lasagna soup?” She asked groggily but seemed a little excited.

“Sure, babe.” You responded, motions of your hands slowing down gradually, “I’ll go get that started in a minute. I’ll grab you a heat pack first, though.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll be back for cuddles once everything’s simmering in the pot.” You promised. You saw a slight smile from her right before you walked to the kitchen.

While you were dumping the ingredients into the pot, you heard footsteps behind you. So, you turned to look. “Hi, babe.” You smiled, she smiled back. “That smells so amazing.” Regina remarked, her signature little smirk tugging at her lips.

“Thank you, but you didn’t have to get up, babe.”

“I was starting to feel restless.” She explained, walking the rest of her way up to you slowly, “Wanted to come in here to grab a quick snack so I can take the medicine too.”

You took a quick peek at the food to make sure it wasn’t going to bubble over. “That’s good, G. What would you like?”

Regina took the hint and sat down at the table cautiously. She let you take care of her, she knew not to push herself too hard.

“Maybe just a yogurt. You’re already making dinner.”

You nodded, turning to open up the fridge door. You looked inside and located the little section of Chobani Flips, grabbing her favourite strawberry shortcake flavoured one for her along with a little metal spoon. “Here you go.”

“Thank you.” She said, promptly digging in. You also refilled her Crown Jewel Owala, put it down on the table then grabbed the bottle of painkillers for her. Regina flashed you an appreciative smile since her mouth was full with the yogurt. You kissed the top of her head while walking by her, making your way back to the stove to stir the soup.

You heard her toss the empty yogurt pot into the trash and rinse her spoon. “Just going to grab my current read from the bookshelf.” Regina informed you. The soup was only a few minutes away from being done at that point. Soon after, you heard the slight crinkle of book pages turning. You took a peek at her and she gave you a cheeky grin. “Feeling better?”

She nodded, “Yep. Meds are kicking in. But I’m still kinda feeling it.”

“That’s okay, the meds just gotta take the edge off. And it’s good that they do that as they’re intended to.”

She laughed, “I can’t rely on them too much, either. Otherwise my body would get used to it and I wouldn’t feel it working.”

“I hear you. But you use it as needed. You don’t just go popping them like candy, babe.” You told her, placing a bowl of the lasagna soup she’d requested in front of her. Regina shut her book and slid it onto the table, picking up the spoon. “Sometimes…it feels like my body is…is like a cage. I feel limited, trapped by it. I can’t do what I used to be able to do and I hate it. I mean, I can, but most of the time I end up being in so much pain and I became a whiny idiot.”

“G, you’re doing your best and that’s what you have to remember. I know you know that, you just have a hard time remembering that. So…as long as you have me, I’ll always remind you how strong, and how much of a badass you are. And well, it’s totally okay to be whiny sometimes. You’ve got me, so…you are my whiny idiot.” You chuckled at the end, so did she. Holding onto her free hand, you brought it to your lips and gave it a kiss.

“My god, why do I cry so much when I’m having a flare up?” She sniffled then sighed deeply.

“It’s okay, baby. Let it out. Your body knows, if you feel it, let it happen. It’ll pass. No matter what, I’ve got you.”

“Thank you.” She looked at you and said it properly before she started eating her dinner, “I love you. Thank you for being here for me and taking care of me.”

“You do the same for me too, Regina. We promised each other, hm?”

Her hand doesn’t leave yours for awhile, you didn’t pull away either. This was a sweet moment. “Do you want some dessert? I could bake cookies?”

“That sounds nice, but cuddles sound even better. You promised me some.”

“Okay, cuddles it is.” You snickered. After dinner, you washed up the dishes and put the leftovers in the fridge. Then, you joined Regina on the couch to cuddle as promised, while watching a movie. She fell asleep halfway through, and understandably so. She’s had a rough day. The couch was also perfectly fine to sleep on for a night without causing any annoying aches the next morning, so you weren’t worried.

However, if she falls asleep during a movie, she’d usually wake up near the end of it. And that was when the both of you would head to bed. Usually. So you sat still, enjoying the remainder of the movie while she rested in the meantime. You combed your fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp without a thought while your other arm was securely around her waist.

Regina wakes up several minutes before the credits rolled, slurring slightly, “You wanna take a shower with me?” She smiled sleepily.

“Of course.” You leaned down to press a kiss to her lips for a few seconds, “You ready to get up?”

“Mhm.” She hummed, you still got up first to help her up, just to be on the safe side of things. After a nice shower, you both felt all clean and cozy, ready for a good night’s sleep to welcome a new day in some hours. Regina had managed to get the next day off, while you already had the day off. So, it was good. She got some more time to get back on her feet from the flare up, and you got to spend some more time with her.

“You don’t have work tomorrow, yes?”

“Yes.” You laughed lightly, brushing the hair out of her face.

“Good.” She pecked your lips, “Cause I want some cookies and I want you to make ‘em.”

You gasped playfully, “Oh, you want me to make them, huh.”

“Yours are better.” She smirked, and wound up smiling, “Please?”

“Well, aren’t you a sweetheart?” You joked, “Yes, of course we’ll bake some tomorrow. But only if you actually get some sleep tonight.”

“Well played.” She chuckled, “G’night, baby.”

“Good night, G.” You leaned closer, letting her snuggle while you winded an arm around her, “I love you.”

“I love you more, baby.”

🏷️ Tag list:

@arandomeee @ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartandstuff @pda128

#regina george #renee rapp #mean girls 2024 #mgmm fics #x reader #reader insert #reader imagine #lgbqtia #queer #wlw #fanfiction #hurt/comfort #female reader #character x reader #requested fic #thanks anon #short fic #ficlet

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the-guilty-writer · 1 year ago

Note

I second the ask about Hotch's daughter with endometriosis!!! I'd like to see that

I just finished it ♡

Aaron Hotchner x daughter!reader

You truly wondered how women with endometriosis survived periods before thermotherapy products were invented. Hot water bottles and heating pads were a necessity for you during this time of the month. It wasn’t that they made the pain go away - they just made it bearable enough to allow you small bits of time where you could do something more than laying down.

At the moment, a hot water bottle and a maxed out dose of Ibuprofen were holding you together - barely. After twenty minutes at school, you were sent home by your English teacher, who was concerned about your nauseous complexion. Somehow, you'd managed to do some make-up work before taking a long (and much-needed) nap.

With your dad away on a case, the list of chores was longer than normal, but the pain made moving nearly impossible, much less cleaning. Dishes needed to be put away, the kitchen table needed to be cleared, and he laundry hamper was flooded with clothes, but there was no way you could do any of it while your insides felt like they were going to fall out. The only thing you absolutely had to do was pick Jack up from school. Everything else could wait.

All the energy you’d gathered went into the ten minute drive to and from picking up your brother. He requested a snack as soon as you got home, which you somehow managed to make him food without screaming in pain. It took every ounce of energy you had left to sit at the table with your brother as he did his homework.

The pain and fatigue clouded your brain, so much so that you hardly noticed the door to the apartment open.

“Dad!” Jack jumped up his seat and down the hall toward him.

“Hey buddy,” Hotch said. The tone of his voice was a testament to his exhaustion, but a happiness to be home.

“Dad, I made this painting in art class and I really want to show you. It's in my bedroom. Come look!” Jack didn’t give your dad a moment of rest.

“Okay,” he chuckled. “I'll be there in a minute.”

Jack’s feet pounded against the floor, running to his room in anticipation. Your dad’s longer, slower footsteps followed behind. As soon as he appeared in the doorway, you could tell the case has been a hard one. He looked beyond exhausted, horrors still haunting his eyes and crushing his spirit. Not even your little brother's innocent greeting could extinguish what your dad had endured over the past few days.

“Hey, dad,” you greeted him with as much enthusiasm as you could muster up.

“Hi sweetheart.” He planted a quick kiss atop your head before moving to the kitchen. “Where are all the plates?”

A displeasement crossed your dad’s face. You'd meant to empty the dishwasher earlier that day, but the pain body had stopped you.

“Still in the dishwasher,” you said, holding back a wince as your stomach cramped.

“I thought we talked about this.”

“We did, but-”

“You’re almost an adult. I expect you to start showing up like one.” He was calm but stern. Unblinking eyes bore into you. It made you want to cry.

Hotch turned and left the kitchen, his calm footsteps indicating he was going to Jack's room.

Despite the pain radiating through your body, you stood up and carefully made your way to the dishwasher to unload it. As soon as you leaned over to lower the door, a stabbing sensation penetrated your gut. Dizziness washed over your head and blackened your vision. In an instant, you had crumbled to the floor.

You weren't even aware that you'd let out a cry of pain until your dad was kneeling next to you, a gentle hand caressing your face. Through teary, blurry vision, you could just make out the worry in his fearures.

“It hurts,” you choked out.

“I know,” he said gently. “I'm here. I've got you.”

Strong arms lifted you off the kitchen floor, carrying you to the couch. A heating pad was laid across your stomach and a straw was brought up to your lips with the gentle encouragement to drink.

When you managed to open your eyes, Hotch was next to you, a look of concern on his normally serious face.

"Hi, sweetheart." The words were the same as before, but his tone was different.

"Hi," you whispered.

"Here," Hotch brought a hand behind your back and used the other to hand you a bottle of water, "have some water."

You took gentle sips. Your father’s hand still rested on your back, rubbing it soothingly.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"You didn't make me get up." It was true.

"No, but I jumped to conclusions about what you were able to do and it made you feel like you had to do something that caused you pain." Sometimes having a profiler for a dad was a good thing. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," you said.

Hotch helped you lay down again, covering you with a warm blanket. "Can I get you anything?"

You snuggled into the blanket and adjusted the heating pad to sit in the best place for easing pain. "Just the TV remote."

Your dad smiled - his small but rare smile - before handing you the remote. The rest of the afternoon would be filled with watching bad TV and chick flicks, but he didn't mind. If it made you just a little more comfortable, then it was worth it.

#aaron hotchner x daughter!reader #criminal minds x daughter!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader

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milaisreading · 2 years ago

Text

Toddlers at Japan U-20

Warnings ⚠️: DON'T LET ME WRITE AGAIN. Idk how or why I thought of this☠️ Reader uses she/her. Requests are open

⚽️Blue lock belongs to:Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

"Oliver...no." (Y/n) glared at the now 4-year-old boy. The black haired boy was seated in the kitchen at the Blue Lock building and drinking his milk... or he was supposed to, but was instead busy glaring at Hayate, who was sleeping in her arms. So now he was threatening to spill the milk as a 3-year-old Teppei and 4-year-old Niou kept quiet and ate their lunch. Neither really wanted to be om (Y/n)'s bad side.

"Hold...me." Oliver demanded as (Y/n) shook her head as the other two glared at the boy's demands. They all listened to (Y/n), so why should Oliver, who listens to nothing, have the privilege of being hugged.

"Oliver, please just drink up your milk. You know I can't hold you since Hayate is sleeping." (Y/n) said, feeling the said boy tighten his grip on her shirt.

"No!" Oliver exclaimed and threw the bottle and before (Y/n) could catch it, Sendo was already there and caught the bottle. The 4-year-old gave (Y/n) a toothy grin and handed her the bottle. The girl took it and put the bottle on the table.

"Ahh Sendo~ you are a real life saver!" (Y/n) cheered as she crouched down and kissed the boy on the head. Sendo blushed a little and giggled, pointing at his head.

"Kiss...another,please..." The boy asked and 5 pairs of eyes watched in jealousy as Sendo received another kiss.

"Kiss! Me too, please!" Teppei yelled as he jumped off of the chair and ran to where (Y/n) was, giving the girl nearly a heart attack as he did so.

"Teppei, be careful!" She warned the boy, who ran up to her and sent her a smile while pointing at his head.

"Here..." He pointed and (Y/n)'s glare softened a little and she did as asked, which caused protests from the others.

'I was just supposed to be a manager! Not a babysitter.' (Y/n) groaned as Oliver and Noiu grabbed Teppei's shirt and pulled the blushing boy away. The 3- year-old Miroku and Itsuki looked at the three fighting and then looked back at (Y/n). Huffing, Itsuki started patting Hayate's back in an attempt to wake him up. It started working as the white-haired boy started groaning, but Itsuki got stopped by (Y/n) who grabbed his hand and started scolding him a little.

"No no, Itsuki. You friend is sleeping. Hayate is tired, just let him rest." Itsuki pouted and (Y/n) went back to calm the other three down. Using the chaos, Miroku went and laid down on the ground, using (Y/n)'s lap as his pillow, which in return caused Sendo to start crying and throwing a small tantrum.

'How is Hayate not awake by now?! He could sleep through a tornado.'

After a good hour of calming everyone down, the boys were doing their own things, aka Sendo, Teppei and Miroku were watching a cartoon while Niou and Oliver were following (Y/n) around. Somewhere down the line she had successfully put Hayate to bed, which now meant for the boys she will hold one of them. This assumption caused both boys to start huffing and puffing when she didn't offer it to one of them. Instead all (Y/n) did was start cleaning up and washing the dishes, I mean... they were right there demanding attention! Oliver frowned and started pulling on (Y/n)'s pants to get her attention while she was washing something.

"Stop it Oliver, or else I am calling your coach and asking him to take care of you guys." (Y/n) warned as the others had a look of horror at the thought. Niou nodded his head in Oliver's place and pulled the boy away.

"(Y/N)!" The door opened and a 4-year-old Shidou ran over to the girl, hugging her tightly around her legs. The girl dried her hands and looked at the blonde while.

"Shidou? Where are Sae and Teru? Weren't you two together?" (Y/n) asked the pink-eyed boy, who pointed at the door. At the door was 3-year-old Sae, looking as bored as usually, but he wasn't who caught her attention, it was Teru. To (Y/n)'s shock the 3-year-old sobbed and held his forehead.

'This isn't good! The JFU will have my head if one of them gets injured!' (Y/n) thought as she removed Shidou's arms and ran to the door.

"Ahh, what happened Teru? Let me see what the issue is." The boy let her remove his hands and she started inspecting his forehead.

"Huh?" Sendo, Teppei and Miroku looked away from the TV and at the three. Sae rolled his eyes, not liking to be ignored by (Y/n). Oliver, Shidou and Niou were meanwhile staring daggers at Teru, but decided to say nothing, not wanting the coach to be their caretaker.

"Hmmm? Did Teru fall down?" (Y/n) asked Sae as she noticed the red mark on the boy's forehead. The redhead nodded his head silently, not showing any emotions really.

"Come here, Teru. Everything will be fine~" (Y/n) cooed and hugged the toddler, and to the shock of the other U-20 she started kissing his forehead. While Teru was enjoying the attention the others on his team (minus Hayate) were glaring daggers at him and planning their revenge.

#blue lock anime #bllk #blue lock manga #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #manager reader #oliver aiku #oliver aiku x reader #sendo shuto #blue lock u-20 #bllk u-20 #blue lock hayate #blue lock miroku #blue lock teppei #sae itoshi #blue lock shidou

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xoxoavenger · 1 year ago

Text

In a Frame on the Highest Shelf

pairing: Steve Harrington x SingleMom!Reader

summary: James is getting smarter and Steve and Y/N are getting more comfortable with each other

word count: 2557

warnings: some self deprecating thoughts but they are assuaged

notes: big thank you to @ilovegerardwayd34d for having the perfect idea for the next part

previous part series masterlist

birthday celebration main masterlist

Their relationship is interesting, to say the least, after the party.

They don't change their daily life, except now Steve sleeps in the bed with Y/N. She hadn't known that his back was hurting, had felt bad when he popped it the first night in bed with a deep sigh and mentioned how much more comfortable it was. She had begun to apologize, but he told her to stop talking and took her into his arms. They both slept better in the bed together, James in the crib next to them.

Y/N realizes she made the right decision when she wakes up in the middle of the night to Steve not in the bed, instead laying on the ground with an arm in James' crib. Y/N knows this well, that usually James can't go back to bed without some sort of physical contact, and usually takes James into her bed. She thinks maybe Steve was worried about co-sleeping, which is kind of endearing, and she grabs her camera as quietly as she can. The flash is bright, but Steve just takes a sharp breath and rolls a bit.

"Steve," Y/N whispers, putting the photo and the camera down. She reaches over to shake his shoulder, because she doesn't want his back hurting even more. "Come back to bed." She watches as he unravels himself from James, who squirms before going back to sleep. She watches him for a moment, makes sure everything's okay, and then helps Steve back up onto her bed - or their bed? Could she call it their bed now?

"James woke up." Steve mutters, and Y/N looks at the clock. It's early in the morning, but early enough to go back to sleep. The perfect time.

"You did great." Y/N told him, kissing his cheek before laying against his chest. It's her favorite pillow, and Steve doesn't mind because he likes her pillow more than the spare one.

"Mhm." He nods, pulling her closer and pressing his lips to her forehead in a loose version of a kiss.

This life is perfect.

Until it comes crashing down and suddenly Y/N is at her lowest, lower than when she first found out about being pregnant.

It starts with James crying, and Y/N realizes pretty quickly he has a fever. She calls out of work, not able to leave his side. Steve picks up on the house chores, which makes Y/N almost melt if she had the bandwidth to care about anything but her baby. He washes the dishes, takes out the trash, does the grocery shopping and makes food. She lets him feed her while she rocks James the few times he's actually asleep.

"Today is day three." Steve tells her, and she just nods. If she looked up, she'd notice he has dark circles under his eyes that almost match hers, but she is too busy watching the rise and fall of James' chest. His mouth is open, nose stuffed.

She is terrified.

"I should take him to the hospital." She says, about to cry herself. She's so tired, and she would do anything to take this pain away from her baby. She doesn't understand what happened, because they hadn't been around anyone who was sick. She had always been so careful, never wanting to cause her baby harm. This had to be her fault. She must have missed something.

"I can drive you. We can go now if you want." Steve offers, and nods, starting to stand. She'll go in these stained, old, gross clothes, and she hopes there's something quick that can be done to help James.

"Yeah, let's go," She stops talking because James is shaking in her arms, eyes rolled back. "Steve," She has no idea what do, and she knows Steve won't either but her mind can't think.

"Let's go to the hospital now, come on." Steve seems freaked out, scared like Y/N but able to keep himself calm.

"What's going on?" She starts crying, holding James as tight as possible. He stops shaking, but her heart doesn't calm down. She wants to throw up and scream and somehow trade places with James. She feels so helpless, holding her baby as he breathes deeply through his mouth.

"We're gonna be okay," Steve leads her out, both of them without shoes. Y/N doesn't even have socks, but she can't feel the dead grass under her feet, only her baby in her arms. Steve helps her into his car before he runs around to his side, sliding in and starting the car as quick as possible.

"I think he's okay now, I don't know what happened." Y/N can't tear her eyes away from James, who is crying now. She doesn't want to put him in his carseat, even as Steve speeds out of the trailer park and onto the road. He's safe in her arms.

Luckily, the hospital isn't that far, and they pull up in record time. Y/N hops out of the car, looking over at Steve.

"I'll go park the car. I'll find you. Go!" That's all she needs, shutting the door and running into the ER.

Y/N lays in the hospital bed, James laying next to her sleeping. They've given him medication, told Y/N the seizure was only because of his fever and that they'll give him medicine but he'll get better eventaully.

None of that made Y/N feel okay.

Steve sits in the chair in the corner of the room, arms crossed as he watched Y/N smooth James' hair. She felt guilty that he was here, for pulling him into this whole mess. She felt her throat begin to tighten.

"I'm sorry." She whispers, looking up and over at him. He furrows his brows as tears begin to fall down her cheeks. "You can go home if you want." She doesn't even know what her words are supposed to mean.

"Hey," He gets up off the chair and moves to the bed, resting his arms on it to be close to her. "It's okay. Everything is alright. James is okay, it was just a scare. We are okay." He grabs her hand, and it breaks her. She starts crying harder, and then Steve gets on the bed, holding her around James just like he did the night they first kissed. That night wasn't that long ago, but Y/N thinks it might as well have been years.

"This is all my fault." She says quietly, shaking as the sobs rack her body. "I'm a terrible mom and a terrible friend." She tells him, and she truly means it. What kind of mother lets her kid get this sick?

"You're an amazing mother. The best I've ever seen. And a great friend. I'm not just saying that." Steve struggles to get out, not sure what to say.

"But ever since I came into your life, all I've done is mess everything up." She whispers, sniffling and trying not to wake James up. "Your parents kicked you out, Steve. And I have a baby. You shouldn't have to take care of him when I can't." She cries softly. Her eyes are closed, and nothing happens for a moment.

Then Steve reaches out and wipes her tears.

His hands are soft against her cheeks, and she keeps her eyes closed so she doesn't ruin it. They breathe silently, and she sniffles back her tears until Steve has dried her face.

"I wanted to leave." He whispers, and she finally looks at him. His eyes look sad in a way she hasn't seen before, even though they've had the discussion of him leaving his parents house multiple times. "My dad was a terrible father. And my mom wasn't much better. Before recently I didn't understand how parents were supposed to be. But you've taught me what to do. I know today was scary. But you can't push me away now. I'm staying because I chose to, not because I don't have another option."

She wants to say she loves him, but it feels like it's too much, so she reaches over and kisses him, James in the middle, just like their first kiss. She thinks it may be her favorite way to kiss ever.

"When we get home, our home, I'll go get groceries and make dinner while you clean the house and James naps. We'll get our shit together." He rubs her back and kisses her forehead.

"Stit?" James grumbles, because of course he had woken up, and Y/N glares at Steve.

"I'll get ice cream on the way too."

"So, what are you doing for Steve's birthday?" Robin asks. It's been a couple weeks since James went to the hospital, and he's feeling much better now, so Y/N and Steve were both excited to finally see the rest of the group. The adults are all at Eddie's, the kids at Y/N's. The doors are open at both, and Y/N is standing on the porch watching to make sure James is alright even though Max assures Y/N she's watched babies younger than James.

Y/N told Max she's more worried about Dustin.

"Steve's birthday?" Y/N repeats, pulling her gin and tonic from her lips. She hadn't heard anything from Steve about his birthday, which made her realize she didn't know when Steve's birthday was.

Check in the bad girlfriend column.

"Yeah?" Robin asks, sipping her drink with a smile. "It's next Monday. I thought you would have plans, since he hasn't told me any." Y/N's heart drops.

"Monday?" She whispers, turning to look at Steve. He's laughing with Eddie, beers in their hands. Y/N feels the need to smoke a cigarette.

"Did Steve not tell you his birthday?" Robin asks, and Y/N shakes her head, walking inside. Robin calls after her, but she pretends like she doesn't hear, downing her drink and setting the cup down on a table. She knows where Eddie keeps her cigarettes, so she walks past everyone and into the kitchen, grabbing a cigarette and walking out to the small porch.

Steve didn't tell her his birthday.

Why didn't he tell her? They've had a busy month, sure, but his birthday is important. Not everything can be about her all the time. She feels like shit.

"What's goin' on?" Steve is suddenly behind her, hand on her back as he stands close to her. She looks over at him sadly, handing him the cigarette. Every time she's had one, she shares it with him when he's around. She lets him take a long drag, and then she turns to him. She feels his hand move from her beck to her hip, and she tries not to let it distract her.

"Why didn't you tell me your birthday is in a couple days?" She asks, not breaking eye contact. To his credit, Steve doesn't try and act like he doesn't know what she's talking about. He doesn't look around and try to figure out an excuse. He keeps staring, even as he sighs.

"James was in the hospital a couple weeks ago and we just got back to normal. I didn't want to stress you out and I knew you would want to do something." He tells her, taking another drag from the cigarette.

"Because I care." She whispers, putting a hand on her on his chest. "We're all okay now, we can celebrate your birthday." She puts the other hand on his face, rubbing her thumb across his face.

"We don't have to." He tells her, putting the cigarette out and letting his other hand fall to her waist.

"Steve, come on. It's your birthday." She's sure his parents always belittled his birthday, so she wants to make sure he has an actual birthday party. "Tell me what you wanna do, and I'll take care of it." She leans against him, trying to get him to agree, but he shakes his head.

"I just want-" He doesn't tell her what he wants, because all the sudden the kids are all screaming. Y/N and Steve only make it half way across the grass when Dustin appears, holding two pictures in one hand and James in the other arm. Max and Lucas pop up on the other side, and they all clamber out of the trailer.

"What happened?" Y/N asks as she meets them, taking James into her own arms. Dustin lets her, but his face has a wide smile that matches the other kids, all of which who have started piling out. James seems to be fine, happy even with all the yelling.

"Watch this!" Lucas yells. Y/N expects James to startle, but he must be used to the noise because he squeals.

"We were trying to teach James our names, and then we were quizzing him on yours," Max starts, pointing at the pictures. The first is Y/N in the hospital with James right after she gave birth. A nurse had taken the picture, and it was the only one she had with both of them for months. She smiles at the picture. "Who's that?" Max points at Y/N, and James kicks his legs into Y/N.

"Mama!" He squeals, and Y/N kisses his forehead. He's been saying 'mama' for months, but it's still cute.

"Who's this, James?" Dustin asks as he moves the pictures to reveal the first picture of James and Steve; the one of James on Steve's chest. James looks so young Y/N wants to cry, even though it was just a couple months ago. She's studying the picture so closely she doesn't realize what James says.

"Dada!"

Everyone is quiet, heads snapping to Steve. Y/N's jaw drops as James continues to babble "dadada" and then wiggles to get out of her arms. She lets him down to the ground, her mind racing. Of course Steve being in James' life would be amazing, but she hasn't talked to Steve about this. They've been so busy, she's honestly forgotten about it. She watches as James toddles over to Steve, grabbing the leg of his pants.

"Dada?" He asks, and it breaks Y/N's heart. She can't ask Steve for this. She knows he said he chose this, but he can't say that he honestly chose an entire lifetime. She wants to know how James knew what that means, but clearly her son knows who it should be associated with.

"Steve," She starts, not sure if she should pick up James or not. She watches as Steve reaches down and grabs James up, turning so his back is to the kids and James can see them all. He's facing Y/N as the kids start to scream in happiness. Y/N watches as Steve clutches James, tears starting to leak from his eyes. She can see how much this means to him, and she doesn't want to take this moment from him. But he reaches a hand out blindly for her and she doesn't waste a second taking it. He pulls her in tightly, James in between them, just like it always is.

"I love you." She tells him, looking at him. She watches him blink some tears away, then kiss her softly.

"I love you both." He whispers, hanging on even tighter. She slots her head into his neck and keeps her arms around him. "So much."

Someone takes a picture, and Y/N knows it's going to be in a frame on the highest shelf for the rest of her life.

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @one-sweet-gubler @sadbitchfangirl @gloryekaterina @alexshaff2002 @m-rae23 @icequeen1371 @mcueveryday @parkershoco @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @peculiarwren @kenzi-woycehoski @multifandom-boss-bitch @freezaz123 @mads-weasley @johnricharddeacy @sweetdreamsshifter @param8re @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @wish-upon-a-star-1310 @fangisms @alicetweven @damon-loves-pie @gaysludge @l0v3e1i @luvrsbian @zulpix-blog @scarletwitchwhore @taylortheyellowlobster @ash5monster01 @nix-rose @param8re @loving-and-dreaming

#steve's problem #steve x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x singlemom!reader

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