#pyjama day the morning after: still crying

[rad-roche]

i'm gonna have to give pluto a second watch because i'm on the last ep and i'm just sitting here like

[blue-jisungs]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ BLUEY & BREAKFAST 🧸ྀི — husband girl dad doyo:( soft morning:( ( wc 1455 )

[ extras ] reader is breastfeeding but nothing crazy (although doyo has a ‘a man is a man’ moment IJBOL)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ note ! i had to take a small break from my event and write this bc girl dad doyo wouldn’t leave my mind and yall need to know it too! besides posting this for @yudaies !!! hopefully it’ll cheer you up babes <3

@kstrucknet ♡

you gradually grew awake, remains of sleep fading away. not brave enough to open your eyes yet, you reach out to grab doyoung’s hand in the seek of more warmth. 

but you don’t meet his hand nor… him. your hand stumbled upon something soft, tender; a peach fuzz alike feeling underneath your fingertips. you frowned and traced the texture, smooth and soft. 

you opened your eyes and lying next to you, on doyoung’s spot, was your daughter. 

you grinned sleepily. she was six months old so your husband probably carried her here. it warmed your heart to see that he also put a blanket over her (and you). probably on his way out to work, too.

she recently started teething so last night was full of crying, from both sides. doyoung was asleep since he had to leave early. 

you traced miyoung’s rosy cheek and then rubbed your eye. you would love to get more sleep. actually, maybe you could… 

a soft babble cut in just in time. miyoung’s big brown eyes opened slowly and started making small sounds. 

“matching our sleep schedules now, are we?” you whispered amused. your daughter stared at you, waving her hands “let’s get up, hm?” 

you stretched, allowing the duvet to fall from your body. then, you grabbed miyoung in your arms and while rocking her gently, you went to wash your teeth first and then to the kitchen. 

just when you were about to come out of the corridor to enter the room, you heard a noise. 

your heart skipped a beat in your chest, halting your movements and listening in. there were faint clanking noises coming from the kitchen. 

but you’re home alone…? 

you leaned out of the wall to peek and let out a sigh upon noticing a similar silhouette. not to say that you weren’t surprised, though. 

“am i doing it wrong? why isn’t it… growing…” 

you smiled and walked in, quietly observing the situation unfolding in front of you. miyoung was toying with the material of your shirt quietly. 

“no, something is definitely not right” 

he was watching something on the pan, leaning on his left hand and tapping the counter in deep thought. 

“i added more milk!” 

doyoung slightly turned yet didn’t see you. he was focused on kyungmi who was sitting on the counter and toying with the milk bottle. you saw him break into a huge smile, hands going to caress your older daughter’s cheeks.

“i like milk” she hummed and looked up at him with a grin. her eyes shifted away and widened upon seeing you “yikes, mommy’s up!” 

doyoung whipped his head around, gaze softening.

“yikes…?” you repeated amused, finally coming to approach them. 

“i think having sakuya and ryo over the other day was a bad idea” doyoung admitted and giggled. you noticed that he’s still in his pyjamas with hair disheveled. it was 10am, he should be at work… “morning, baby” doyoung whispered and shortly after you felt his soft lips brush against yours. the taste of coffee lingered on them and you sighed dreamily. 

miyoung babbled and yanked the hem of doyoung’s shirt, making his nose bump into yours. you giggled into the kiss, and so did he. 

“we are making breakfast!” kyungmi, your lovely 5 year old, cheered. doyoung gasped and turned around, suddenly remembering about the pancakes on the pan. 

“big mi decided to add extra milk though so…” he chuckled and flipped them “no wonder they were so runny and took so long”

“run?” she asked, chuckling. you leaned and pressed a kiss onto her forehead “pancakes run?” 

you just smiled and sat down, caressing miyoung’s dark hair. she’ll probably be hungry soon too, especially after a whole night of crying. 

“how come you’re not at work?” you asked, staring at your husband’s back. a sight so simple, yet heartwarming. 

“i felt bad whenever you kept waking up to get little mi. so just when i was about to leave and this rascal started crying again, i just… i knew you’d be tired. didn’t want to dump it all on you” doyoung said softly. you caught kyungmi chuckling at the word ‘dump’ and you just scoffed. “i called in and said my girls are sick. also, like, come on. i’m thirty, been in the company longer than some of the youngsters have been alive. they get it” 

“thank you” you hummed, a warm feeling spilling all over your heart. whether it was gratitude or simple love, you weren’t sure. 

you chatted while doyoung finished making the rest of the pancakes. with the help of kyungmi  served beautifully decorated breakfast. strawberries and other fruits, whipped cream, even some nutella to pick from. the steaming food made you salivate, not to mention the luring smell of coffee. your stomach growled suddenly, kyungmi laughing. 

“mom!” 

you just shook your head and heard a small whine from your youngest. 

“you’re hungry too, huh?” you asked softly and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. doyoung sent you a worried look. you shook your head and shot him a reassuring smile “don’t worry. eat. you worked hard” 

“mom, can i put some strawberries for you?” big mi asked with sparkles of joy in her brown, doe eyes. 

“of course, sweetheart” you grinned and adjusted your position so you could breastfeed miyoung. 

“dad, can you help me with this?” she asked and tugged doyoung’s sleeve. he shuffled her hair and grabbed whipped cream. 

he gently followed kyungmi’s instructions and drew something. when he was done, she mumbled a focused ‘thank you’ and started putting some strawberries on your pancake. 

you decided to snack on one, stealing it from doyoung’s plate. he just rolled his eyes dramatically, diving back into his food. 

“ta-da!” she hummed and turned the plate to you. it was, you assumed, a smiley face. proud kyungmi puffed her chest out and expectedly mirrored your reaction. 

“it’s so cute! thank you, baby” you blew her a kiss “i’ll eat it in a second” 

“mkay. can i go watch bluey?” she asked, a small pout on her lips. you were rather hesitant to start her day with screen time but… 

“go. we’ll join you in a moment, once little mi’s tummy is full too” doyoung smiled and booped kyungmi’s nose. she ran off with her plate, chuckling “don’t make a mess!”

“i won’t!” 

soon enough the sound of the cartoon sounded from the living room. you just send doyoung a confused look. 

he changed his seats to sit next to you, grabbing your plate. your husband took a picture of it and then started to chop off a small bite for you. 

“here comes airplane” doyoung teased and made a swirling motion with the fork. you laughed, the motion drawing a displeased groan from miyoung.

“you’re unbelievable” was all you could murmur before opening your mouth. doyoung put a hand under the fork, in case something would fall.

(not like it happened before, surely. once during dinner an olive fell on miyoung’s head. she was as confused as you, with doyoung and kyungmi almost falling out of their chairs from laughter). 

you hummed happily, the taste delicious on your tongue. doyoung continued to feed you, taking a bite once or twice as well. 

miyoung was satisfied and leaned away, babbling. you caught your husband’s eyes trailing off and you just covered yourself, smacking his arm. 

“sorry. can’t help it when every part of my wife’s body is beautiful” he grinned sheepishly and leaned in to seal his words with a passionate kiss. 

of course you had your doubts after birth. both with kyungmi and miyoung. but your husband was more supportive than ever, reassuring you at any given chance. it got to a point where you just started laughing at his dramatic praise but he literally had a serious look in his eye each time. 

his knee pressing slightly against you, his lips on yours and tongues dancing together… for a moment you let yourself get lost in the moment. 

dizzying pleasure made you sigh softly, tilting your head a bit. that’s when doyoung suddenly stood up, scooping miyoung out of your arms. 

you looked at him, flabbergasted (and a little bit disappointed). 

“i know i’m charming but let me take care of her. do you want to nap?” he asked. 

“doyo” you sighed, serious. he frowned, rocking his daughter gently “be for real right now”

“what? aren’t you sleepy after a sleepless night?” he asked, genuinely surprised. you stood up, flicking his forehead. 

“you kiss me like that and expect me to get sleepy? you’re lucky i love you” you giggled and he just sent you a boyish smile. “i’m fine. let’s go watch bluey”

masterlist <3

taglist. @l3visbby ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @mon2sunjinsuver ,, @w3bqrl ,,

@eternalgyu ,, @haecien ,, @slytherinshua

[rafesbabysweet]

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ SLOWLY; Rafe Cameron

Summary: today was supposed to be a lazy day, but to rafe, it can’t be a lazy without some slow sex!

cw: smut, older!rafe, praising, groping

It was a sweet Sunday morning, the big rising sun shining through the blinds of you and rafes shared bedroom. It was dressed up in all your little trinkets, and of course rafes desk that was full of papers and his laptop, and the shelf’s on in filled with a few things like photos or things he cherishes

You and rafe were laying in bed, white and polished duvet draped over the both of you. The tv was playing a movie Rafe decided to put on before you woke up, and now that you were awake you were both watching it peacefully. You were laying between rafes legs, his arms wrapped firmly around your waist as he rubbed gentle circles on your stomach

You could feel the rise and fall of rafes chest, his broad torso providing and excellent pillow that was suitable for moments like this. He took the day off of work, figuring you two needed a lazy day together. You presumed you two would just lounge around all day, and so far that was what you guys were doing

But rafe being rafe, he couldn’t help his wandering hands from palming your swole breasts that were concealed by your thin little sleep shirt, that had matching shorts that too clad you body. You didn’t mind it, after all he had been doing it for the past two years of your relationship

But you did start to mind when his other hand trailed down your stomach, fiddling with the hem of your shorts before slipping his hand under the fabric. “Rafe what’re you doing?” You asked, your pedicured hand coming atop of his to stop his movements. “Cmon, jus’ let me play with her” he said, his voice almost a whisper in your ear

You tried to wriggle your hips; but rafe quickly stopped that by putting a firm hand on your pubic bone, stopping your little squirms. “S’okay, promise I’ll go slowly.” He cooed, letting his fingers slip underneath your lacey panties, gently taunting your swole clit

You whined, mind starting to go fuzzy at his touch as you nodded, letting him do what he wants as per usual. He rubbed his two fingers along your slit, teasing the sensitive area before pushing two fingers inside, making your hips twitch up. You let out a moan of delight, feeling the delicious stretch of his thick digits

“Tha’s it, good girl” he said, starting to work his fingers in and out of your tight hole. The push and pull motion of his fingers sent you into a frenzy, your body melting into a pliable pile of limbs as he whispered sweet little praises into your ear, working you up for his cock. It was delightful, his fingers filling you up full already

Your whimpers, cries and moans filled the small space of your shared bedroom, as well as the soppy noises coming from your pussy that was now leaking over rafes fingers. He loved it, and truly cherished the way your juices flowed so freely down his fingers. He loved it when you were messy, and that was almost every time you two had sex

It didn’t take long for you to come undone, not when it was rafes fingers plunging into you. You let out a cry, eyebrows furrowing and back arching as you came around his fingers, a glob of cream oozing out onto rafes fingers. He rode you through it, fingers still thrusting gently before he pulled them out, bringing the dripping digits to his lips and sucking off your juices, the taste sweet on his tongue

Rafe gripped your hips, manipulating your body underneath his as he pressed a sloppy kiss to your lips, cock hardening in his slacks as you moaned into his mouth, taste settling on his tongue. You could taste the gentle reminder of your orgasm on his tongue, but you didn’t mind. He removed one hand from the flesh of your waist, instead using it to pull down his pyjama pants and boxers, freeing his half hard dick

He keep his lips pressed firm on yours, intoxicating you with the feeling of his tongue in your mouth to distract you from the way he was pumping his cock in his hand, getting it fully erect before plunging it into you. You were oblivious, head aired out and lips too busy to speak

That was until you felt rafes mushroom tip run through your soft folds, lathering them in his precum. He kept pumping himself, breaking the kiss and pulling back to spit on his length, using it as a lubricant. You stared down, breathing quickening in excitement

He stopped his teasing, his tip now prodding at your entrance as he slipped it in. You both moaned in unison, heads lolling back at the feeling of each other. You were moaning at the stretch, where as he was moaning at the feeling of your tight walls sucking him in like a vice

He worked his tip inside you, earning soft moans as he loosened you up. He leaned down, his forehead resting in the crook of your neck, his lips just grazing your pulse point. “Your so tight ain’t ya baby?” He whispered, breath hot against your neck. You whimpered in response, feeling him inch in a little deeper

He made sure to keep a slow and steady pace, keeping his promise as he worked his cock deep into your tightness. Your lips parted, letting out a squeal of pleasure at the harsh stretch. You should’ve been used to it by now, but each time always felt like the first. “Shh baby, s’okay” he cooed, voice strained as he fought to keep his composure, his hand coming to stroke your hair

He was so gentle, understanding of your boundaries during intimacy and always keeping them in mind. And that showed, especially now when he was being slow and gentle, laid back just how you asked him. That was a perk of dating someone older, he was mature and kept himself in check, unlike the silly boys your age who didn’t care about you and just wanted a quick flick

He worked up a pace, set perfectly for both of your pleasures. It was slow, deep, and passionate. Rafe was whispering praises into your ear, placing soft kisses to your cheeks and neck. It was all perfect, and rafe could tell by the sound of your moans. The little joyful squeals and pleasured whimpers, the moans of delight caused by the pleasure that coursed through you

His cock moved deep inside you, dragging in and out of your warm and wet walls. The feeling had him groaning and moaning in your ear, as well as occasionally nipping on your neck. He never held back with his noises, he wanted you to know that he was also enjoying it, and he also shared that by mumbling praises of how good you felt into your ear. “Oh baby, this pussy feels so good” he’d murmur, making you shiver in pure delight

Your hips started to move against his as well, his pubic bone brushing against your clit with each thrust, creating a delicious friction that you obsessed over. The noises you began to make were almost pornographic, but neither of you cared, in fact Rafe adored it. He loved hearing how good he made you feel, it inflated his ego to no height

“Atta girl, taking this cock so well” he praised you, placing a soft peck to the side of your parted lips. It felt ridiculously good at this point, especially now that your orgasm was approaching. An all to familiar cord in your stomach started to tighten, as well as the walls of your pussy. Rafe felt the clench, the newfound tightness, and knew you were close

He grinned to himself, moving his hips that small bit faster, just enough to drive you over the edge. “Oh rafe! Gonna cum!” You cried out, fingers curling into the sheets as you held on for dear life. The band in your stomach snapped, and a thick ring of cum formed around rafes cock

That was all it took to trigger rafes orgasm, a loud groan rasping in your ear as his hot semen poured into your womb, filling it with life. You were panting, and so was he as he worked both of you through your orgasms before slowly pulling out, bring gentle as to not disturb your sensitive pussy. He grabbed a few tissues from the bedside table and wiped his cock before wiping your now weeping pussy, then throwing them into the trash

He tucked himself back into his boxers, pulling up his pyjama pants and laying down beside you, pulling your body close to his. “You did so good baby, took me like a champ” he whispered, large hand caressing your hair to calm you down. He held you close, his warmth sheathing you like a large blanket. He was soo sweet, and you loved it. He took care of you, and gave you the best orgasms of your life. What more could you want?

[luveline]

Hii! How are you?

I love all ur fics especially Hotch and his adult daughter ones. They are just brilliant<3 Can u please write something with Hotch being worried about his daughter as faints or get injured? Thank you!

thank you for requesting! <3 fem, 2k

There are silver-linings to your concussion. Not many, and he’d much prefer you were better, but silver linings all the same. 

You, unable to look after yourself with on-again off-again dizziness and shortness of breath, have no choice but to stay at Aaron’s house. (Well, you could’ve stayed home, and he could’ve come to visit you a few times a day while your mother worked, but this is easier on his gas tank and his heart.) 

The silver lining is that he actually gets to spend time with you, large swaths of it, and that he gets to see you without your smart formalwear for the first time since you’d met all but four months ago. It will never not be strange to have a daughter and to be her acquaintance, but Aaron feels that this time is perfect to get to know you beyond two hour dinners and texts. 

It is admittedly occasionally awkward, but he doesn’t expect it to be easy. He doesn’t need you to pretend that you’re more comfortable with him than you are, or that he’s been there for you as you deserved. He wishes he was, and he can’t forgive your mother for keeping you a secret, but he can understand her reasoning (to some extent), and he can try to give you what you deserve, because it is about you. You’re a young woman who deserves a father and has one now. He’s determined to prove that it isn’t too late. 

You curl on the family couch with a new pillow under your head. You wear pyjamas he bought you, socks you’ve borrowed, and a big blanket covers your legs. Jack sits on your feet eating grapes from a bowl. 

You look younger without makeup. Aaron can almost see you as a kid. 

“You want another grape?” Jack asks you. 

“Please, buddy,” you whisper, holding out your hand. 

You’re trying not to talk or move too much, as movement hurts your nose, which was broken. Aaron still can’t believe someone hurt you —you were assaulted in the subway during a city riot and passed out as result, where you hit your head, and ended up where you are now with post concussive syndrome.

A bad fall can do such great harm, he can’t imagine how awful it would’ve been to have met you and had you stolen from him that swiftly. He’s a lucky man. 

Aaron almost hadn’t answered when you called, about to change into Kevlar and prepare the BAU for an anti-terroism strike that Strauss shoved into their laps. He’d smiled briefly at your contact photo and thought of the phone call he’d have with you later to apologise for missing the first, but then he got a strange feeling. What could it hurt for him to make sure you weren’t in the centre of it? 

“Do you want water?” Jack asks. 

You hold out your hand again, searching for Jack’s. You find it and give his fingers a squeeze. “No thank you. You don’t have to worry about me, I just want you to watch your movie.” 

“I’ve seen it a hundred– hundred times,” he says, taking his hand back to eat another grape. After a moment, he lays his cheek against your legs where you have them bunched up. 

“Don’t choke on your grapes,” you say. 

“Don’t worry,” he says. 

You laugh quietly. “I won’t.”

Aaron closes his laptop, having failed to work from home in the armchair beside you both. He might need some help to get back to a functioning place when he returns to the office, but his hands itch with a different need today. He checks his watch. 

“Time for another dose, if you want it?” he asks you. 

“Please.” 

It’s only anti-nausea and painkillers, but you’re quite dependent on them. He’s staying on top of them, because on your second morning here, you’d woken up and forgotten the anti-nausea. Being sick with a broken nose is agony. He doesn’t wanna see you crying again. (Though again, that had made you closer. To get to rub your back, and promise it wasn’t too disgusting, he could deal with it no problem.) 

Haley hums in the kitchen. She’s happy to have her way, which is to have him home, if vaguely bitter that it’s for you. He understands her annoyance, but it’s different. If Jack were attacked and recovering, of course Aaron would be home with him, as he’s home with you, but he won’t stay home for much less and lately, it's been a point of great contention between them. 

Still, she’s a good woman who looks after everyone the best that she can. Your pills are waiting on the counter with a glass of apple juice and a muffin, and your laundry is being folded from the dyer next to Jack’s. 

Aaron ushers her in for a grateful hug, a kiss pressed to her soft cheek. “Thank you, honey.” 

“You’re welcome. She shouldn’t take so much tylenol when she’s barely eating. You’re gonna have to convince her.” 

“I will. I was thinking I’d make soup. You know, my mom’s split pea. What do you think?” 

“Does she like split pea soup?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Just ask, Aaron,” she says, not without sympathy. 

“I was going to.” 

Haley gives a long sigh. “I’m sorry.” 

He rubs her arm. They’ve been very far apart lately, so far that he’s wondered if they’re not going to make it work, but for today they seem back in sync. 

“Don’t be sorry,” he says. 

“No, I am. I know it’s impossible, but I keep imagining how I would feel if it happened to me.” She wipes lint or maybe nothing from his collar. “What if I had a baby out there and I knew nothing about her? It’s not… not fair on either of you.” 

“Worse things have happened, Hale.” Because it really is awful, but he doesn’t need anyone to feel sorry for him. You, yes. Poor girl, your poor nose. Aaron gives Haley a quick kiss. “We’ll be okay. Don’t worry about it, hm?” 

“Okay, honey. Well, find out what she wants for dinner.” 

“I’m gonna make it.” 

“I can make it.” She moves back to her pile of laundry. “I don’t have much to do, with you home. It’s nice.” 

He winces, grabbing your pills, your juice, and the muffin. Aaron has no qualms sharing duties, but he can’t have this conversation again. Of course it’s nice to be home, that’s not the issue. 

You and Jack are exactly where he left you eating grapes and watching TV, but you’ve shifted upward a little to make more room for him, the blanket now over his legs.

“Are you looking after your big sister?” Aaron asks. He can’t help himself. 

Jack grins at him. “Yeah, dad. We need more grapes.” 

“Yeah?” Aaron walks around the couch to pass you the few pills into your hand. He crouches in front of you. It hasn’t stopped feeling alien, suddenly having two kids, but it has started to feel right. “It’s dinner time soon, Jack, can you wait? I don’t want you to have a full tummy.”

“What’s for dinner?” he asks. 

Aaron passes you the glass of juice for you to wash down the pills. “I was thinking we’d let Y/N choose…” He taps your knee gently. “Do you have a craving for anything?” 

“I can’t choose,” you say. 

His hand turns to cup your knee, hoping it isn’t too much. “Sure you can. Jack chooses dinner all the time.” 

“I’ll eat whatever.” 

“You’ve barely eaten all day, isn’t there something you love? Something soft?” 

You look like him when you’re not happy. Unsure, you look to Jack. “Can’t Jack pick, please?” 

“It’s your turn,” Jack says. 

Aaron puts the muffin he’d been given for you on your knee. “Honey, just think about it. There’s no rush. You and Jack can live off grapes for the rest of the night.” 

“Mean,” you murmur. 

Jack slips off of the couch with his bowl. He makes for the kitchen, his wobbly declarations of love cute and ringing when he sees his mom. “Hi, mommy. You’re pretty. Can I have grapes?” 

“Hi baby.” 

You smile, fingertip playing with the muffin’s paper casing. “He’s so lovely.” 

“I know.” 

“It’s okay, right?” 

Aaron holds your gaze. Not commanding, but listening intently. “What’s okay?” 

“For us to– you know. To cuddle.” 

“Yes, it’s okay. Jack makes his own mind up about things, and if he wants to cuddle with you, he will. If you don’t want him to cuddle, you can ask him for space.” 

“It’s strange,” you say, laying your face against your pillow, muffin ignored, “to have a brother now.” 

“Bad strange?” he asks. 

You smile. Almost hopeful. “No.” 

Aaron does know what you’re thinking. He has four months of evidence on your behaviour, and you aren’t dishonest, so he believes his frame of reference to be correct. Right now, you’re feeling unwell, maybe the pain in your face is flaring or your concussion is giving you grief, but you seem to already love your little brother. If not love, then to be very fond of him. You have similar feelings about Aaron, but you’re shy about showing it. 

He understands that you might not feel very close to him so soon, he understands that you’re practically still strangers, but he loves you. Maybe it’s something innate in being your father, but he really does love you. 

It’s like being passed your baby —you don’t know your baby, they’re a baby, but you love them. Aaron doesn’t know if you like vegetable soup more than French onion, if you like buttered bread or a dinner roll or toasted baguette on the side, but he’ll learn. 

“I’ll make you anything you want for dinner,” he says softly, looking for your hand in the blankets, and taking it with similar care. “You just have to tell me what you like.” 

You look down at his hand. 

“Sorry for making things difficult.” 

“You’re not making anything difficult.” His thumb rubs your hand of its own accord. “You aren’t difficult. You’re remarkably easy to look after.” 

“Thank you.” 

“If you could just pick what you wanted for dinner…” 

You both laugh at one another, and you wince at the soreness in your nose. Aaron stands from his crouch with aching legs to pat you on the shoulder. 

“I’ll figure something out,” he says. “I’m a good guess, usually.” 

“Okay. Thank you, Aaron,” you say, resting with a sore squint back against your nest. 

In the kitchen, Jack sits in Haley’s lap, his bowl filled again with more grapes. She’s chewing on one when he comes back. “Hey, did she decide?” 

“Not yet. I’m working on it.” 

“Well, we have time.” 

[reverie-starlight]

{peace - atsumu}

would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

putting this down as fem!reader, only because there are some specific nicknames I wanted to use (pretty girl, sweet girl, etc) no physical descriptions though!!

very soft fluff, like disgustingly soft. this is loosely based on one of my absolute favourite songs <3

“I feel so safe with you…” you mumble one night while resting against his chest.

it’s been a busy evening- going to one of his games and then to your work party immediately after. needless to say, the both of you are very tired. so tired that when you got home an hour ago, just past midnight. he had to help you get your pyjamas on and drag you to the bathroom before you flopped into bed and cuddled close to one another. you’ve been recharging with each other and focusing on some quality time you missed out on during the day.

atsumu feels his heart squeeze at the sound of your sleepy voice, soft and quiet and matching the persona you often take on when you’re exhausted.

he sighs in content and strokes the cheek not pressed against his chest with his thumb. slow and gentle. “yeah, pretty girl?”

you nod a little, nuzzling further into his skin. “you’re so peaceful.”

he freezes a little out of pure shock.

atsumu has never considered himself a peaceful person.

he’s seen his fans online lovingly describe him as chaotic, heard his teammates refer to him as energetic and sometimes hard to keep up with. he’s gotten abrasive, overexcited, intense… and what’s more, the lifestyle that comes with being a pro athlete is anything less than peaceful to begin with.

he still doesn’t see those as inherently bad qualities, even now that he’s older and doesn’t let his ego run the show anymore.

however he’s got it stuck in his mind that he could never give you peace. would it be enough for you? would you stay with him ten years down the line, even with all the flaws that he believes he is? he’s not easy to love, he knows it, but is he enough to make you stay?

and then sometimes you say things like that, making him question everything, things that change his own perception of himself.

“peaceful, huh? weren’t ya running your mouth this morning calling me a freak for putting my milk in before my cereal?” he tries to joke.

you giggle a little and he holds you tighter out of adoration. “well you still are, but you’re also very peaceful.”

he’s silent for a moment but he can’t help but ask, “how do ya figure?”

you do your best to word it properly. he loves the way your face scrunches up as you think of what to say. “I always feel so calm around you. more calm than I’ve ever felt around anyone else. and so extremely safe. I can be myself with you and I don’t have to worry about anything when you’re around because I know you’ll be there to help me if something does happen.”

he doesn’t know what to say, but you solve that issue for the both of you with what you say next.

“you offer me a special type of peace I didn’t think was possible, ‘tsum. you’re my angel.”

you make it seem so simple, like there’s nothing in the world that could ever dispute it.

he can’t stop his eyes from welling with tears. he’s always been an emotional person- he knows, he’s been berated for it since childhood, both teased and defended against others by osamu for it. he wears his heart on his sleeve and it wasn’t until meeting you that he considered it an admirable quality. he feels things deeply, and this hits him deeper than anything else ever has.

but you’re just as emotional as he is, so when you look up and notice him trying not to cry, you immediately tear up too. “don’t cry,” you sniffle, trying to wipe his tears while a few run down your own face. “I love you so much, atsumu.”

he sniffles as well, voice thick and full of love. “I love you, too, baby. how’d I end up with such a sweet girl, huh?”

you shake your head. “I’m not, I’m just telling the truth.”

he laughs through his tears. “and being sweet while doin’ it.”

he presses kisses to your forehead, mumbling small thank you’s against your skin. “for the record, I feel the exact same about you. my angel.”

you crawl up a bit so you could be face to face with him. you kiss him properly and taste the saltiness of your mixed tears.

“I didn’t think I could ever offer that to anyone. I’m not used to hearing it, so I stopped believin’ it.”

your heart breaks a little but you’re quick to reassure him. “well believe me. you offer me more than I deserve.”

“that’s not true,” he’s always so quick to defend you. “you deserve way more than I could ever give you.”

you smile a little bashfully and then pull a face he recognizes as the one you make when you’re trying not to yawn. “alright, sweetheart, we should get some sleep.”

he strokes your cheek and gently rolls you off of him so your head rests against your pillow. he chuckles when you immediately choose to rest it against his chest again instead. he loosely wraps an arm around your waist and kisses the top of your head.

you listen to his heartbeat and drift off. your breathing evens out almost immediately and atsumu thinks back to a time when you used to struggle to sleep around him.

he smiles to himself, wiping the last of his tears and whispers something you just barely manage to catch before sleep fully pulls you under.

“sweet dreams, baby. I love you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

peace is one of my favourite songs ever, I very much relate to it. and I think atsumu would too. I wrote this at like 1 am so if there’s mistakes, or if it seems very all over the place, blame it on sleep deprivation and devastating brain rot for the boy </3

hope you enjoyed :)

some tags :3

@emmyrosee @dira333 @luvring

[slytherinshua]

CHOCOLATE CAKE

genre. fluff. slight hurt/comfort. warnings. exams/exam stress mentioned. crying. brief mention of drinking/partying. light profanity. food (cake hehe). mentioned that reader wears makeup. intak cheers you up!! pairing. intak x fem!reader. wc. 1.4k. request. no. a/n. for my kyo @blue-jisungs <33 ilysm and i'm so proud of you, ik you've worked so so hard <33

By the time your bus was almost to your stop to get off, the tears had dried on your cheeks. You felt absolutely exhausted, and there was nothing you wanted more than to get home and just sleep. Exam season was always stressful, but the past month had been a living hell.

You didn’t exactly do great on your midterms, despite studying almost every second you were awake. It frustrated you. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t seem to get the high marks that you strived so hard for. Your friends seemed to pass so easily, some of them not even bothering to study in advance. While they had all gone out drinking or partying now that it was the last exam day, you were prepared to study more tomorrow in order to retake exams next week.

You had cried all day— after one of your more stressful exams, after getting a bad mark back on an earlier exam, at lunch when your friends asked you how you had done. It was both embarrassing and exhausting. You were so, so tired.

You felt numb and mindless as you grabbed your bag and got off the bus. The air was cold and sharp, but the breeze was welcome. Even the shiver that ran up your spine as you stepped onto the pavement wasn’t a bother. It allowed you to breathe. The dark cloudy sky seemed to be mirroring your mood, and you found a small comfort in that. 

You didn’t bother to knock or announce your presence at all when you reached your apartment. You didn’t have the energy to talk; your entire body feeling sluggish and slow as you dropped your bag on the chair and shuffled out of your boots.

“Fuck- Did I not set the timer?! No, no, it’s okay, it’s okay.”

The voice of your boyfriend startled you at first before you registered the familiar tone and relaxed, a whisper of a smile even playing on your lips. He hadn’t said anything about stopping by today, but given his love for surprising you, you should have expected it. You weren’t quite ready to show yourself to him, though, so you made your way quietly to the bathroom, still able to hear him talking to himself in the kitchen.

“Chocolate, chocolate… melt for… 30 second intervals? She likes chocolate- so 2 packets? Yeah.” 

You wiped off any makeup that had survived your many crying sessions and washed your face of the tear stains and exhaustion of the day. Once you changed into pyjama pants and one of Intak’s stolen hoodies, you finally felt at ease. The weight of exams and the thought of retakes still looming over your head wasn’t something you could ignore, but just for tonight you willed your brain to not focus on it. Just for tonight, you deserved to rest.

You shuffled to the doorway of the kitchen, still trying to be as quiet as possible. Intak had his back turned to you, and didn’t notice your presence at all as he worked near the stovetop. The smell of chocolate cake and cherries reached your nose, and your chest felt warm. Intak always knew your favourite comfort foods and the best ways to cheer you up after a long day. 

You didn’t realize until now just how much you had missed him. As you watched him scurry around the kitchen, completely oblivious to your figure in the doorway, you couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face. You missed his hugs and his kisses. You missed your late night talks and when you would game together where he would let you win on purpose. You missed telling him how much you loved him and watching his eyes brighten. 

Given how busy you were studying and preparing for exams, you barely had time to see him in the past 2 weeks. He would send you encouraging text messages in the morning, and you would text him during your breaks, but most of the time you had to keep your phone far away from you and on Do Not Disturb to keep your focus. 

You missed him so much that it was almost hard for you to keep watching him silently when you knew that he would hug you as soon as he was aware you were there. But he soon turned around to transfer a bowl to the sink, and his eyes quickly met yours and froze. You watched as his mouth formed an ‘o’ shape before turning up into a big grin a second later.

“You’re back!” He chucked the dishes into the sink and practically ran over to you, capturing you in his arms and lifting you slightly off the floor. “I thought the exams would swallow you whole, I missed you so much.” He mumbled in your ear, prompting a smile to form on your face.

“Me too.” You sighed in content. The feeling of Intak’s arms around you was one of your favourites in the entire world. From how close you were, you could smell his woody cologne as well as his gentle natural scent peaking through. He hugged you tightly, swaying softly from side to side until you made moves to escape his embrace.

“One sec!” He rushed to the other room, coming back with a bouquet of pink and white flowers. “For my academic weapon of a girlfriend.” 

You were going to protest about the academic weapon part, but with his cheesy grin plastered on his face as he held out the flowers to you, you didn’t have the heart to. You knew he wouldn’t accept any objection from you anyway. In his eyes, you were nothing less than perfect.

You ranted about the past week to him while he finished decorating a chocolate cake, discouraged by the fact that you would have to retake some exams. But Intak would only say how proud he was of you for making it through the stressful month.

“You worked really really hard, and I’m so proud of you, baby. The scores don’t reflect your self worth, okay?” He reassured you, pressing a kiss to your forehead after you had told him everything.

You wouldn’t have believed the words coming from anyone else, but he was your boyfriend and you knew he wasn’t even capable of lying to you (after all, he had tried in the past, and you had caught him every time).

Seeing Intak’s smile and hearing his words of encouragement gave you back energy for almost an hour, but you felt a crash of tiredness again once you settled on the couch with him to eat cake and snuggle.

“Don’t fall asleep on me yet. I’ll have to carry you to bed.” Intak joked, watching you sleepily blink with love in his eyes. Despite being worried about how hard you had pushed yourself, he knew the best thing he could do was just cheer you on and let you recharge with hugs. He wouldn’t care even if you fell asleep on his arm and it was sore for hours the next day.

“You’re comfortable.” You argue in a mumble, only melting into his arms more. You were practically a puddle on top of him— letting your entire body relax and trusting that Intak would let you sleep.

“My girl is that tired, hm? Are you sure you don’t want to go to bed?” He spoke softly, brushing your hair out of your face and making sure the blanket covered your shoulders.

“You’re more comfortable than my bed.” You whispered, already teetering on the edge of consciousness. You heard Intak scoff, and though your eyes were closed, you could picture his adoring smile perfectly. You were half asleep by the time his response fell on your ears, and entirely too tired at that point to comprehend his words. You smiled when you felt him press a kiss to your temple, and finally allowed yourself to slip away to your dreams after the long day.

With Intak by your side, the stress of your life seemed to lessen, and your mind stopped racing as much. You let yourself relax and just enjoy being with him, as if nothing else in the world mattered.

↳ p1h taglist: @eternalgyu,, @kangtaehyunzzz,, @amara-mars,, @nyukyujs

[joekeeryswife]

plz could you write something about mase looking after you when you’ve had a rough day with the baby!!

stress - m.m

a/n: hello angel! thank you for your request. omg i love it so much, kinda changed it a little if that’s okay! (dad! imagines own my heart!!!!). idk how to feel about this one so lmk what you guys think! anyways, let’s get on with the imagine, enjoy reading 🫶

mason mount taglist: @noturbabe22 @luvvtrent @peterparkerbae

four weeks, it had only been four weeks since you’d had your baby and you were already feeling like you’d failed her.

you knew becoming a mum would be difficult but you didn’t realise just how hard it was going to be. it was like everything you did was wrong.

Mason had gone back to work only a week after Margot was born and that was one of the worst thing to ever happen. you felt like you didn’t have support even though he would get up with her during the night and as soon as he got back from work he would take over looking after her. what was funny was whenever Mason got back from football she was never crying, it was like she could sense he was coming home.

Margot loved Mason. whenever he had her she hardly cried, she’d watch his face with such concentration and coo at him all the time. but when she was with you, she’d scream and cry no matter what you did.

you felt useless.

you felt like the worst mum in the entire world, not understanding what was wrong with her as she cried just hurt your heart. you just wanted to be in the ‘baby bubble’ everyone spoke about.

you wanted to feel like your friends did when they had their kids. they were always smiling, always happy when they were with their babies who hardly cried when they were with them, it was like you were broken.

today was like no other. it started out okay, Margot was actually happy this morning when you woke up, Mason had given her a bath and put her in the cutest outfit but then as soon as he said his goodbyes to the two of you and he drove out of the driveway, all hell broke loose.

she was just sobbing and it hurt you to hear those cries. “oh Margot, what’s the matter my angel. please don’t cry sweetheart. are you hungry? is that what it is?”

you quickly balanced her with one arm as you tried to lift up your pyjama top so you could breastfeed her but every time you tried to get her to latch she would turn her head away and sob louder.

you had realised that Margot would hardly ever latch when you tried to breastfeed her. it was very rare that she would allow you to breast feed her so you had decided to start pumping your milk and give it to her in a bottle instead and most of the time she would drink it from the bottle.

“how about we get you a bottle instead hmm? would that make you feel better?” you knew she wouldn’t reply to you but it was nice to speak to her. you got up from the sofa after fixing your top and warmed up the milk.

her sobs grew louder as you rocked her. waiting for the microwave to ‘ding’ felt like hours. “i know sweet girl, not long now” you poured the milk once it was warm enough into the bottle and went to sit back down on the sofa. you tried a few times before she finally started drinking the milk, her sobs died down but her eyes were still filled with tears and the tear stains on her cheeks broke your heart.

she was hiccuping slightly as she drank her milk but her eyes were fluttering masa img she was trying her best to not fall asleep. “you rest angel, mummy isn’t going anywhere. and i’m sorry i can’t understand you like your dad does, i promise i’m trying my best”

with that, her eyes closed and it was finally silent in the house. you just hoped today would be a lot better than the rest.

-♡-

Mason was back home a little later than expected tonight, he had been asked to stay back to speak to ten Hag which he forgot to tell you about but he knew you had it all okay at home. you always had Margot in a good-ish mood when he would come home and it was always nice to come home to a quiet house after training or a football match. he would hear shouting all day and coming home was just perfect.

you didn’t want Mason to know you were struggling, to you it felt like the worst thing i’m the world. you were meant to be a good mum as soon as you gave birth but you just felt like all you did was struggle. you had no idea what you were doing and you didn’t want Mason to be disappointed in you.

however, tonight Margot would not stop crying. after her bottle this morning she napped for maybe 30 minutes before her sobs started again and that continued for the entire day. you didn’t know what to do and you felt like you had failed as a mother. you had no idea what was wrong with her and you hated that you couldn’t understand what she was crying for. you felt like she hated you.

as Mason entered the house he could hear the wails coming from Margot, he had never ever heard her sound like this before and or worried him. he could hear you, speaking to her softly over her cries, you sounded just as upset as her. “i’m so sorry angel, i don’t understand why you’re crying. i’ve fed you, cuddled you, changed you, i don’t know what else i can do. i’m sorry i’m failing you”

his heart broke. he walked into the living room and saw you holding Margot in your chest with tears streaming down your face. you looked so defeated and he hated it. “hey, what’s going on? are you okay?” he questioned as he slowly walked towards you.

you hadn’t heard the front door close so hearing him made you jump. you didn’t want him ti see you like this so you quickly wiped your eyes and showed him your best convincing smile. “oh yeah i’m fine, she’s just, i don’t know what’s the matter. i think she just might be tired” you lied, of course you weren’t okay.

“do you want me to take her?” he held is arms out so he could take Margo from you so you quickly passed her to him and he gently started rocking her which no i’m surprise stopped her cries. you felt your heart break. was it really that easy?

your eyes filled with tears, jealousy and frustration taking over your body as you saw how easy it was for him to calm her down. “look, go upstairs and have a shower, i’ll take care of Margot and you just have a break okay?we can talk after if you want to” he watched your shoulders drop slightly and your chin quiver as you tried to hold in your tears, something was definitely wrong and he was going to figure out what.

once he heard the bathroom door close he sat down on the sofa with Margot. he watched her huge brown eyes dart across his face. “what’s happened angel? you giving mama a hard time?” she cooed at him, a small smile on her face which looked exactly like yours. “you can’t give mama a hard time honey, mama’s with you all day” she squealed, obviously not understanding him.

“i’m sure you tired, if you’ve been crying like that all day i’m surprised you’re up right now” he decided to grab a bottle and try get her to nap so he could speak to you. he had never seen you like that before.

he warmed up the bottle and went upstairs to her nursery and sat in the rocking chair. he started feeding Margot and immediately her eyes started to close, he honestly wished that he was able to stay off work with you when Margot was first born. he had only gotten a week off work before he had to go back and he felt awful but ten Hag wouldn’t give him anymore time off.

once Margot finished her bottle he turned on the white noise machine and put her down into her crib. he quickly exited her bedroom to leave her to nap and went to your shared bedroom. he wanted to talk to you, you barely speak to each other now and he wanted to spend time with you.

after waiting for a while you finally came out the bathroom in new pyjamas and your hair was wrapped in a towel. your eyes were red, it was obvious you had been crying. “hey” you said, noticing him on the bed. he opened his arms and waited for you to sit on the bed next to him so he could hug you.

you quickly got onto the bed and cuddled into him. “we haven’t cuddled in ages, we haven’t spoke in ages. i want to know what’s bothering you sweetheart. i’ve never seen you look so upset” he kissed your forehead.

“i just, i feel like i’m not a good mum. like everyday all she does as soon as you leave is scream and cry and i’m trying my best to understand what’s wrong with her and i’m struggling. i’m struggling a lot” you felt your eyes well up with new tears. Mason felt his heart break. he was annoyed with himself for not noticing sooner.

“it feels like she hates me. and i just feel stupid because as soon as she’s with you, you calm her down. she even smiles at you. i’m feeling so lonely and i feel like a terrible mum.” your tears started flowing down your cheeks. you were quietly sobbing as Mason pulled you in closer and ran his hand up and down your back.

“i’m so sorry sweetheart, i really am. i’m sorry i haven’t been here to support you, i’m sorry you’ve had to do it all on your own. it’s not fair at all. and i’m sorry you think that you’re a bad mum because you aren’t. you are the most incredible mum” he heard your sniffles, guilt eating him alive.

“if you weren’t a good mum you wouldn’t do half the shit you do now. she doesn’t hate you angel, she loves you. you don’t know what she tells me when i come home” he joked which made you giggle through tears.

“i know it is tough right now, but i promise it’ll get better.” you looked up at him with uncertainty. “it will, stop giving me that look” he gave you a sympathetic smile. he hated that you were feeling this way, he wanted you to enjoy being a mum.

“you stay here for a bit, i need to go do something. don’t come downstairs until i say alright? just watch some tv and i’ll be back” he gave you a few pecks before he left you in the bedroom, confusion filling your body. but nevertheless you grabbed the remote and turned on the tv, trying to finally relax.

-♡-

it had been over an hour since Mason asked you to stay upstairs and all you could hear downstairs was Mason’s footsteps. you had absolutely no idea what he was doing and you were nervous to even go back downstairs.

“y/n sweetheart you can come down now” you heard him shout up to you so you quickly turned off the tv and made your way downstairs. whilst you were upstairs Mason did come to get Margot who had awoken from her nap about thirty minutes into him leaving you upstairs.

you had gone to get her out of her nursery but Mason quickly shooed you away back to the bedroom so he could take care of her. you were grateful he went to help Margot, he knew how stressed you were and he was trying to make you feel better so he took Margot downstairs with him.

you walked down the stairs and into the living room and saw blankets and pillows covering the sofa with your favourite food on the coffee table and your favourite movie ready to play on the tv. Mason was holding a now very aware Margot who actually reached out for you.

“i know it’s not much but i thought maybe we could spend time together for once?” Mason handed Margot over to you and kissed you passionately. “i’d love to” you kissed him one more time before you both made your way to get under the covers on the sofa.

Mason pulled you into his hold and kissed your forehead. “i know this doesn’t make up for what’s been happening these past few weeks but i do want you to know me and Margot appreciate everything you do” you felt a smile form on your face as he spoke, he had a way with words which always made you feel special.

“i have also spoken to ten Hag and told him that i’m gonna take a few weeks time off to look after you both. i don’t want you to feel alone, ever, because i am here for you” you looked up at him, it was the first time he’d seen you smile in ages.

“i know you are, you didn’t need to take a few weeks off. will he not get angry at you?” you kissed his cheek and he shook his head. “i didn’t get to take the time of when she was first born so i i don’t care if he’s mad. i have a family to look after” he lent down to kiss you again.

you didn’t know why you were so anxious to tell Mason how you were feeling, you knew he would help you and you appreciated him. “thank you mase, i love you” he smiled at you “i love you more”.

[nyx-umbrakinesis]

The Chicken

(just a small comedy quip (not the fic I've been working on))

Alastor x Reader & Vox

Vox moves into Hazbin Hotel looking for a way to win Alastor redemption...

You giggling with Alastor as you both try to shush the other as Alastor holds both your cargo as quietly as possible...

Alastor uses his umbrakinesis skills to keep you both almost undetectable as you both sneak down the hall to the desired room, holding back laughter at the combined diabolical plan.

Once there he sends forth his main shadow to unlock the door from the inside, keeping the hall in shadow to make sure not to awaken the victim.

You creep in together and there's a slight squeak from Alastor's hands, you both freeze, but the occupant snorts slightly in his slumber and stays that way to your relief.

You give Alastor a smug glare as he had been inistant he would make the least disturbance.

Finally you're both able to arrange everything the way you need it, swiftly and with only one small incident where you both panic as 'he' mumbled Alastor's name in his sleep, Alastor glares at you mortified and beseeching you to never mention it again.

Once safely out the room and back inside Alastor's you both fall about laughing for a good long while, making theories on what will happen when he wakes and finds the little surprise you both left... Re-enforced with Alastor's magic so it would be unremovable and indestructible until he deems otherwise.

---

The next morning...

Vox: "WHAT THE FUCK!" Followed by a loud screeching noise that has you and Alastor who had been loitering in the hall absolutely dying of laughter already, tears forming in your eyes as screech after screech sounds in Vox's room as he tries to find a solution to his problem...

Vox's door bangs open and there's a rather odd large lump in the front of his pyjama trousers, you both try and fail to look innocent as his furious look.

Vox: "What the fuck did you do to me!"

Alastor: "Why we simply gave you an upgrade, you were after all saying how versatile it was to have things interchangeable, we were just being good samaritans and giving you something worthy of your entertaining personality." He says smoothly as Vox's screen glitches and you snort in laughter.

Vox tries to round on you but Alastor steps in front of you.

Alastor: "Ah, ah, ah, old pal, I wouldn't even think of that if I were you, only I have the power to help you with your little problem and you harm a single hair on this ones head and you'll find you're stuck with a permanent attachment for as long as you exist." Alastor says so darkly even You shiver, although you're not sure if the source is fear... Or something else entirely.

Vox grumbles something along the lines of "we'll see about that" and stomps of the his room with little squeaks along the way.

You: "Have fun choking the chicken!" You call after him to raucous laughter from Alastor as you also have to lean on him for support having set yourself off too.

Vox's muffled voice swears, and there's a hilarious amount of squawking and squeaking likely finding no way to sever the rubber chicken from his pelvis and unable to find a way to loosen it from the attachment slot.

You and Alastor continue enjoying the show, both crying and holding each other for support now as Vox seemingly gives up to get ready for the day.

You both head for breakfast as there's not much else to hear as Vox heads to his bathroom... Still determined to not miss work it seems.

Breakfast was just as entertaining as Alastor willingly sat next to Vox, which one any other day would've had the TV man ecstatic yet today, he was anything but, as Alastor would find 'innocent' reasons to jostle Vox just enough for a slight squeak each time, that had you cracking up as Alastor would watch you keenly for reactions, his own face the mask of innocence as the repetitive sound had even Charlie wondering where it was coming from and asking Alastor if he could check the doors for squeaky hinges, to which he agreed knocking Vox again with a squeak as he emphatically gestures and speaks with Charlie, and Angel gives you a knowing look as you stare at Alastor.

---

Vox heads to work, he brings a briefcase and uses it to block the view of his oddly shaped bulge.

Vox makes it through with minor squeaking thankfully, but then it's time for his news segment, and unusually stays behind his desk throughout, but unfortunately and without thinking with his own exaggerated gesturing he crosses his legs with an almighty squeal from the chicken and everything goes quiet and everyone stares at Vox, who's stuck in that position now as if he uncrosses his legs the flattened chicken would reinflate with such a squark he wouldn't even live through the mortification, though he wonders if he'll survive this one.

Meanwhile at the hotel you and Alastor, who decided it was about time to put the picture box to good use and support your new 'friend', we're rolling about laughing so hard right now all the words anyone could make from the pair of you were "squawk" and "chicken".

When Vox finally returns to the hotel cheeks a darker blue than usual on his screen, he manages to corner you both and Alastor finally agrees to let Vox 'alleviate' his problem, under one condition... He makes the chicken make a loud sound on purpose in the main lobby, with Lucifer present...

Vox tried to beg, and plead, but Alastor's evil grin is unmoved and finally Vox gives in with such a death glare, 'if looks could kill' almost manifested.

Once he's gone...

Alastor: "Thank you My Dear, you were right all along, to make him leave me alone from his fawning, all I had to do was humiliate him, no wonder torture never worked".

You: "Much obliged, and you owe me money for the chicken, you know once he can get that off he'll shred it."

Alastor: "It's a deal".

Another huge squeak from the lobby has you both snickering and pelting straight towards the lobby eager to not miss the looks on everyone's faces.

[mashtatosworld]

heiress of my heart

summary: G-Dad and Diva have a shopping addiction...

The day usually starts with the little diva waking up the whole house.

Not crying - no, she was far too dramatic and refined for that. Instead, she simply calls out for her Appa, repeatedly, until he has no choice but to wake up and get her from the crib.

"Appa." A pause. "Appa." Another pause. "APPA."

Jiyong groans beside you, his face buried in the pillow. Zoa sat loafed on his back. "Five more minutes," he mumbles.

"APPA."

You sigh, sitting up in bed and carefully plucking the grey cat off his back, pulling her into your arms. She settled immediately, always ready for a cuddle. "She’s not stopping until you go get her."

“I hurt, jagi," Jiyong peeks at you through messy hair, pouting. "Why aren't you hungover?"

You had shared a bottle of wine last night after putting Diva to bed.

"Because I'm not an old man," you smirk teasingly.

Defeated, he rolls out of bed, shuffling down the hall in his plush Chanel robe and slippers - because even half-asleep, Kwon Jiyong is still Jiyong. The father of your diva.

He returns moments later with said baby in his arms, her small hands clinging onto his pyjama shirt as she rests her cheek against his shoulder.

"She said she only wants Eomma now," he complains, dropping onto the bed with his mini-me. "I was just the transport."

Diva crawls towards you and snuggles into your side, gently petting the sleeping cat with one finger, just like you'd taught her. You smile at her lovingly.

Jiyong sighs dramatically. “I give this child everything...”

But he doesn’t mean it - because ten minutes later, after some morning milk and cartoons, your diva is climbing all over him, stealing his hat, and demanding attention.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

Jiyong insists on dressing Diva every morning.

"She has to be cool, jagi. She’s my daughter.”

Today, he’s in front of her wardrobe, holding up two outfits.

"This one?" He shows her a tiny blue Burberry sweater and cargo pants.

"Or this one?" A Chanel dress with tiny matching shoes.

Diva stares at him blankly. Then she points at her pajamas.

“No.” Jiyong is scandalised. “We don’t wear pyjamas all day in this house.”

You sip your coffee, sitting beside Diva on the floor, thoroughly amused. “You do."

“I'm an old man, remember?” he defends, using your own words against you, before turning back to your daughter.

Diva yawns and crawls into your lap. She’s over it.

Jiyong sighs, heading back into her wardrobe for more inspiration.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

Jiyong doesn’t go anywhere without Diva by his side. Whether it’s a quick errand, a café trip, or a studio visit - she’s his little shadow.

Today, he takes her out shopping since you wanted to work on writing some new songs and it was nearly impossible with the pair of them around.

If Diva wasn't clinging to your legs, it was Jiyong.

But only an hour after they left, you receive a Facetime call on your phone. It’s Jiyong and Diva, inside a store. He’s pointing his camera at a Chanel bag on display.

"Should we get this for Eomma?"

Diva stands beside it, holding a smaller, identical one, nodding her head.

Jiyong flips the camera to his face, and chuckles. "She has Eomma’s taste."

You roll your eyes, "Ji, I don't need another one."

"Yah, yah bad connection in here- gotta go, we love you!"

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

Hours later, they stop for snacks at a quiet café.

Diva sips from a Chanel-branded baby cup. Yet another purchase he'd have to disguise from you. But to Jiyong, it was an investment. Your next babies would get to use it too.

Jiyong, feeling sentimental, strokes her tiny hand.

“You know, Princess, someday, you might have a little brother or sister.”

Diva freezes.

She slowly lowers her cup.

Jiyong waits.

She stares at him for a long moment.

Then -

She throws her cup onto the floor.

Jiyong jumps. “What - ”

Diva glares. “No.”

He blinks. “No?”

She crosses her arms. “No.”

“Baby, you’d be the best big sister!”

Diva shakes her head violently.

Jiyong looks around, panicked. “Okay, okay, let’s not - ”

But Diva is already kicking her legs, huffing, and looking seconds away from a meltdown.

Jiyong FaceTimes you immediately.

As soon as you pick up, you hear Diva wailing in the background.

Jiyong looks stressed. “Jagi, we have a crisis.”

You blink, putting your pen down with a sigh. “What did you do?”

“I said she might get a sibling, and now she’s - ” he turns the camera.

Diva is full-on sulking, arms folded, cheeks puffed, absolute betrayal on her face.

You laugh. “She’s one and a half. She’ll change her mind.”

Jiyong looks horrified. “But what if she doesn’t?”

“She will.”

He turns back to Diva. “Baby, don’t you want someone to play with?”

Diva pouts.

"Princess?"

She turns her head away dramatically.

Jiyong deflates. “She’s ignoring me.”

You laugh harder. “You’re scared of her.”

“I am not!”

“Yes, you are.”

He never tells her off. In all fairness, he never really had to. They were two peas in a pod.

Jiyong sighs. “I might be.”

And then - he hangs up.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

Jiyong carries Diva inside, arms full of shopping bags.

You stare. “Jiyong - ”

He cuts you off. “Before you say anything, we've had a stressful day.”

You fold your arms. His idea of retail therapy was excessive.

He sets Diva down, and she immediately runs off calling for the cats, her tiny shoes tapping against the floor. He shifts under your scrutiny, finally admitting, "I had to buy my way back into her heart, okay?"

You blink, glancing at the sheer number of bags he’s just abandoned in the entryway. “Ji, I’m sure a juice box would have cut it.”

He drops onto the chair opposite you, rubbing his face. “You weren’t there. She looked at me like I’d betrayed her. My own daughter.”

You laugh. “I did warn you. She needs friends other than us.”

He groans. “Jagi, what are we gonna do?” His voice is almost distant, like he’s lost in some great, existential crisis.

You laugh, closing your notebook. “Not let our lives be ruled by a toddler?”

He gives you a look. “What do you mean?”

Diva’s voice rings from the other room. “Appa, juice!”

Jiyong is already on his feet. “Coming, my Princess!”

You watch him go, shaking your head. A wave of love washed over you so you opened your notebook again, finally feeling the words pour out of you.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

i wrote this for another fic i'll be posting soon! featuring the adventures of g-dad, eomma and diva ofc

taglist: @petersasteria, @mirahyun , @allthoughtsmindfull , @gdinthehouseee , @infinetlyforgotten , @redhoodedtoad , @kathaelipwse , @lxvemaze , @loveesiren , @sherrayyyyy , @getyoassoutthetrunk , @shieraseastarrs , @ctrldivinev

[veryberryjelly]

hi!! can i request red wine w/ jake peralta based on “fresh out the slammer” by taylor swift? for the last few days all i can think of is like a friends to lovers thing with reader and jake after a bad breakup. thx!! 🩷

jake peralta x reader

lyrics ; ' Now, pretty baby, I'm running back home to you, Fresh out the slammer, I know who my first call will be to ' [ tw ; implied abusive relationship NOT JAKE ]

lowkey wanna do a part 2 to this, maybe a series. lmk if y'all would be into that

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ✦ 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 !

everyone had told you that he was bad news.

but you were too blinded by what you thought was love to listen.

but now as you stood outside his apartment building, tears and rain mingling on your cheeks, you could see they were right.

he had taken you apart, piece by piece until you didnt know who you were anymore.

stood on his front step you couldnt find it in yourself to head back to your apartment where your roommate would be waiting with open arms and an 'i told you' ready to drop.

your legs seemed to carry you in the opposite direction before you could think too much about where you were headed.

it felt like seconds before you were stood infront of the door of one of your friends.

the only person you were sure wouldn't judge you right now.

your knock echoes through the hallway and you hoped more than anything that he would still be awake.

the sight that greeted you when he opened the door made you think you had arrived just in time.

jake.

his hair was mussed slightly and he had ditched his usual jeans and a hoodie for pyjama pants and a t-shirt.

" hey, what're you doing here?" he questioned, his voice more curious than judging.

but you couldnt seem to get any words out.

" woah, hey, are you okay ?"

that broke the damn. tears cascaded down your cheeks and if it weren't for jake's strong arms wrapping around your torso you would've collapsed on the floor.

he didnt try to move you, letting you cry freely into his shoulder in the hallway.

it was only when your shoulders had stopped shaking that he lead you into his apartment, sitting down on the couch beside you.

he didnt pressure you to speak, he didnt push you to do anything, he just sat with you for a while before you felt okay enough to talk.

" i- i got into a fight with dylan..." you started, your voice wobbly and uneven.

you could feel jakes posture stiffen beside you, but you carried on anyway.

" i got into the hallway before he could do anything but i heard glass breaking on the other side " tears began to pour again at the memory of that horrible sound.

he had tried to throw something at you.

jake still sat quietly at your side, his gaze on you never wavering.

" i didnt know where else to go. i knew my roommate would throw it in my face and i didnt want to be there incase he showed up.."

that was what finally snapped it and he lifted his hand, sliding it into yours and squeezing lightly.

" you can stay here, as long as you need. "

his voice was like a comforting blanket over your shoulders that could solve anything. just giving you a place to stay meant the world. it meant you didnt have to go back to your flat and hear your roommate go on about how right she was.

it meant you had a safe place to rest your head.

" thank you, jake " you replied your arms winding around his torso as his did the same , pulling you against his chest.

you felt a kiss pressed to the top of your head and it felt as though it was thawing your heart.

" c'mon, i've got some clothes you can borrow for tonight and we can get some of your stuff tomorrow "

after a confirming nod of your head, jake lead you to his bedroom, offering out a t-shirt, a hoodie and some boxers.

when you emerged from the bathroom in his clothes, you found him pulling blankets and a pillow from under his bed.

" ok, so, you know where everything is, i'll wake you in the morning before i go to work. and i'll tell holt that you're taking a day because there is no way i am-"

" can you stay with me tonight ?" you cut him off. amongst all of this, you didnt want to be alone.

you would take tomorrow off and sort yourself out if he wanted, though you would prefer to go on as though nothing had happened.

but right now, you didnt want him to go. you didnt care if that meant you sleeping on the floor in his bedroom, though you knew jake well enough to know he wouldn't allow that.

it took him a minute where he froze on the spot before he answered

" yeah "

he pushed the blanket and pillow back under the bed and climbed under his comforter, pulling back the other side for you to climb under.

and you did so, lowering yourself down onto the bed and pulling the blankets back over you.

jake didnt move, not wanting to push you too far, but he was on the other side of the mattress, what felt like miles away.

so even in your vulnerable state, you made the journey across the cotton sheets and rested your head down on his shoulder.

when his arm wrapped around you, you knew you were secure.

jake always gave you a safe place to rest your head.

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Yandere coworker (part 9)

Tw: afab reader, non con touching, non con kissing, violence, cyprus mad n yelling

Masterlists, part 1, part 10

It's been a little over a month now. You barely get to sleep at your own apartment anymore ever since you got that fever.

Because Cyprus kept stealing your stuff and blackmailing you with it, you've never missed a night of sleeping at his place. It's like you're living there now, your pyjamas are Cyprus's large clothes and you've been wearing the same few outfits to work over and over, thanks to the free washing services downstairs.

Once or twice, he lets you visit your home just to pack up your skincare, soaps and whatever you need. He already bought you a new toothbrush earlier on in this relationship. Cyprus wouldn't allow you to take your gaming consoles though, he said he didn't want it to "clog up" his apartment.

It's... Nice. You didn't have to worry about what to eat. The bills are paid for. Your rent was also paid for despite barely living there anymore, you had no idea how Cyprus managed to transfer the accounts to his without you knowing. It didn't seem to put too much pressure on him, he was still as cool as a cucumber. You wonder how much he earns in a month.

You didn't have to deal with that creep back at your apartment, but you knew that he was lurking around, watching you and Cyprus during the rare visits. However, as long as that hunk of a man is next to you, he wouldn't dare to approach. That's a plus, at least.

You just had to get used to Cyprus's molester tendencies. It doesn't matter how hostile you would be with him, he would always try to seize every possible opportunity to touch you.

He would pull you into the staircase during lunch, just to make out with you until your legs grow weak and your head goes blank. Cyprus said it helps with his insatiable urge to smoke, you think it's at least helping him, so you're somewhat okay with this treatment. Totally not because you're secretly enjoying the attention and experiences he's giving you.

You managed to convince yourself that being with Cyprus isn't all that bad. He cooks, he cleans, he defends you from Jane, he prepares a cup of your favourite drink every morning and delivers it to your desk, he clocks you out and helps you greatly with your phone addiction.

He sets a limit where you can only use your phone for a grand total of two hours per day. Just to text your friends and family, but he made you delete all social media off your digital slab. Which caused a massive meltdown on your part, where you would cry and flail, and spit and hiss. But Cyprus was unmoving, he's determined to rid you of his modern curse.

Most of your time is filled with doing something else, visiting the beach, and the park, going on motorbike rides with Cyprus, having his tongue shoved down your throat, watching his violent boxing matches, eating at restaurants, talking, and visiting places that you always see on social media, but never been to (Ie., the zoo, the aquarium, carnivals and some other trending venues). You would come back dead exhausted from the day's activities, and you're astonished at how he never seems to run out of energy or date ideas.

You could cry, sob, beg, and struggle, yet he wouldn't allow you to rot in his bed or yours. There must be a destination to go to every day, after work. He would sling your entire body over his shoulder if he had to, it wasn't a fun experience being hung upside down while your legs helplessly flail around.

His lifestyle was completely different than yours, it's almost as if he's living in the 80s- sometimes even completely forgetting to bring his phone with him. That is unfathomable to you, forgetting your phone is just like forgetting your vision, how anyone could live without it, you couldn't understand.

It would be a lie to say that you never had any fun. You would start off teary-eyed and throwing a tantrum because all you wanted to do was take a nap or play your videogames after a long day of work, but in the end, you would be laughing gleefully with cotton candy in one hand, and a stuffed animal in another. You would collapse immediately upon coming back to his place, allowing you to have a complete, 8 hours of sleep a day without fail.

As it turns out, Cyprus only uses his gadgets for work or for research on where to go, or date ideas. Not even for navigation, he used old-fashioned paper maps for that. His screen time is unbelievably low, you wonder if he's actually a modern man or someone from the pre-smartphone era.

Cyprus began to have a "candy drawer" at work, where he would offer sweet treats to nobody but you.

You think he's using that as a substitute for smoking during hours when he couldn't assault your mouth with his, putting actual work into quitting his habit. It's almost admirable, you just wish that he didn't rope you into it as well. You missed your phone badly.

From there, you found out that his favorite candies are mostly cinnamon-flavoured or chewy liquorice sticks. Oddly enough, you couldn't taste whatever he ate when you and he mashed kissers. There is a faint hint of cinnamon, but the licorice isn't there. There was a moderately intense scent of mint, though.

Now everyone in the office knows that you and Cyprus are a pair. Even those from other departments and floors knew not to steal you away from him. Because he once caught someone from marketing flirting with you, he was then let go a few days later. You and your coworkers knew he had something to do with it since he kept entering his supervisor's office with a stack of papers.

You took a peek at them once, their account balances, supposedly serving as evidence that his rival was embezzling company funds with the help of someone in Finance.

There was a new hire that tried to make moves on you. Cyprus made it very clear that you were his by interrupting the conversation with a passionate kiss on your lips. He then barked at the newbie to leave you alone. It's now a must to tell all newcomers about your relationship with Cyprus, and why he isn't to be messed with.

It's very different from the usual, stoic, and professional Cyprus the office once knew. On all matters relating to work or otherwise, he still maintains that frosty, quiet, and monotonous exterior. But when it comes to you? The message is clear: Do not touch his woman. Even looking at you wrongly will cause him to try and sabotage their career.

Your coworkers used that new feature to their advantage. If they wanted to find him for something (Ie., regarding the annual financial report, discuss an error from his side, politics, etc.), all they needed to do was find you and exchange a couple of words. Cyprus will then appear to manifest out of thin air to possessively protect his territory.

They knew not to abuse it too much, though. A man tried to summon him through you one time too many, he came back from lunch late, with an eye swollen shut, a bloody nose, some teeth knocked out of his mouth and bruises all over his body. When quizzed about what happened, he refused to say anything to anyone and refused to press charges on his anonymous assailant. He avoided your gaze and ran away whenever you tried talking to him. Shortly after, he transferred departments and you never saw him around again.

You still didn't know what he said to Jane to make her deathly afraid of him. To this date, she hasn't tried anything with you; allowing you to go home at 5 pm sharp and holding her tongue whenever you made a mistake.

You have come to know a lot about him since he likes talking; sharing about himself and knowing more about you. Unfortunately, Cyprus remarked how embarrassing it is that you have nothing to say about yourself except to describe what you see online. And you didn't realize what you did until he pointed it out, which kept you up at night reflecting on your life so far.

He has friends that he would regularly talk about, they were who you would think Cyprus would associate with: Loud, brash, and sharing a mutual hatred for work and their superiors.

You couldn't remember the names of his closest friends, maybe it's because you believed that this relationship between him and you wouldn't last long. However, you do know he has three best friends, all male.

Today, he's bringing you to meet them in the same pub where you first ate dinner with him. Of course, you didn't want to go. He had to drag you into his car, hissing and spitting as usual. You felt insulted that he would be nonchalant, carrying you without being visibly affected by your hits. As if you're his inanimate suitcase.

When the car starts moving, you would turn docile. Not wanting him to crash or injure yourself by jumping out. He would always have a victorious grin on his face, knowing that he won once again.

You're nervous because you already don't like Cyprus. You couldn't imagine dealing with three more, it might just cause a blood vessel in your forehead to pop. Your boyfriend tried reassuring you by rubbing your thigh while he drove. No matter how you press against the door to try and get away from his grabby hands, he will always reach you.

Reaching the pub, he parked in a spot but told you to wait in the car for a while. It didn't take long until the deafening noises of motorbikes made you shut your ears with your hands. You peered out the window to see three, black and sleek motorcycles pull up around Cyprus's cars. Their drivers all wore leather jackets with customized helmets, and a feminine figure was behind each one, which you assume was his buddies' girlfriends.

They excitedly hopped off their vehicles and started knocking on Cyprus's windows. You cower deeper into your seat in fear as Cyprus rolls them down.

"What the hell, Cy? Just got out of work or something?" One of his friends stuck his arm into the window and pressed on the honk, making you wince at the sudden loudness.

"Yeah, what's with the car? We always come here with our bikes!" Another one slapped the top of Cyprus's car.

"Don't tell us you agreed to work overtime!" The last one jabbed Cyprus in the head, causing your boyfriend to jab his friend's head back.

"Oh my god! Is that her? She's so cute!" The women gushed at you as they took off their helmets. "Hi! What's your name?" You squirmed uncomfortably when they all jutted their hands inside the car to squeeze your cheeks, stroke your hair, and tickle your chin. You felt so violated, already at the brink of tears as their girlfriends continued taking turns petting you.

"Get the fuck away from my car, all of you!" Roared Cyprus, he was so loud that your ear temporarily rang. You couldn't imagine what it was like for his friends that are right next to him.

They backed off, but it didn't seem like they were surprised or upset. Instead, they were giggling and smiling at each other. Is it normal for Cyprus to lose his temper like this?

He stormed out of his car and started yelling at his friends and their partners. "What the fuck is wrong with all of you? I told you all to behave, look at what you did to my girl!" Cyprus marched up to your door, glowering at the women in the process.

He opened the door and cupped your cheeks, wiping away the tears that you didn't know were falling from your eyes.

"Aw... We're sorry." The women had a guilty and sympathetic look on their faces. The men awkwardly looked away and scratched the back of their heads.

"Give me a moment to talk to them, doll." He murmured, tenderly kissing you on the forehead before turning around to scowl at his friends.

All six of them already knew where Cyprus wanted them to go, it was like watching a dog herding sheep into a secluded place.

You watched Cyprus yell at them harshly while their gazes were downcast, it seemed like the girlfriends got more scolding than the men. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion when you spotted that it almost seemed like they were trying to stifle a laugh while being torn a new one by Cyprus. Are they not afraid of him? Do they not respect him, or is this just their dynamic?

He stomped back to you once he was done flaming their asses, while the rest went into the pub.

Cyprus sighed as he shook his head in disapproval, he unbuckled your belt and held onto your hand.

"Come on, let's go in."

__

You're seated next to your boyfriend at a large table, and one of the girlfriends excitedly takes the chair beside you. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her as he hooked his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him.

Now that you had a closer look, you noticed that the women wore beautiful and stylish clothes, had long, healthy hair, had long, acrylic nails on, and their thick makeup looked like it was applied by a professional.

The first ten minutes were spent catching up between the men and their partners, joking around. You were too intimidated to participate, opting to anxiously grip your pint of beer and pretending to drink, so you wouldn't need to speak. All that anger and rage from Cyprus evaporated, he is much more playful and animated now, yet equally as loud as his friends.

You had to jam your fingers into your ear canal to bear with the explosive environment.

"Oh, what about this cutie right here? We didn't even catch your name, and we made you cry. Poor thing." Dread washed over you as the girl next to you suddenly brought all seven pairs of eyes on you.

You took a deep breath as everyone fell silent, waiting for your response. Eventually, you stammered your name.

There was a beat of silence, followed by one of the men cheering excitedly, and then all of them joined in, boisterously welcoming you into the circle.

You took a deep breath and exhaled, this is going to be a long night...

Each of them fought to ask you questions about yourself, cutting each other off and speaking at the same time. You couldn't tell who was saying what, and what was being said. It is just one big cacophony of voices.

Only when you brought your palms to your ears, Cyprus shouted one more time to shut everyone up.

"I told you all to fucking behave! We're leaving if you all can't stop acting like animals!" He berated.

You looked around, there were patrons throwing glances your way, but most of them didn't care. It didn't make the situation any less awkward for you.

"Aww... We're sorry." The woman next to you had her hand hovering over your head, about to patronizingly stroke your hair as if you were a leashed pet, but Cyprus slapped it away and glared at her.

She merely rolled her eyes at Cyprus and huffed, dramatically flopping onto her man's chest. Her boyfriend gave numerous kisses on the 'injured' hand as she mock sobbed.

Cyprus spoke for you, basic information about how you and he met. A simple description of your personality, but he did emphasize 'shy' more than twice. You wonder what their definition of 'Shy' meant.

The conversation revolved around you now, but you didn't say a word. Too afraid that you might excite them too much again. It was humiliating to be hiding under Cyprus's jacket while clinging onto him, but they were genuinely scary.

The woman next to you tried to touch you discretely, having her thigh brush yours, her fingers grazing your knee, her stocking-clad feet gently rubbing your calf up and down. Driving you closer and closer to Cyprus until you're positively pressed up against him.

Whenever you looked back at her, she would have this gleeful smile. Well, all the girlfriends had this same look on them whenever you paid them any attention. It's as if they're overcome by cuteness aggression, since they're mildly gyrating in their seats as soon as you made eye contact.

There was a point where they chatted amongst themselves while Cyprus took a couple of sips from his beer. You tugged on his shirt to catch his attention.

"Yes, princess?" He cooed, craning his neck down so he could hear you.

You told him that you want to go home. You don't like his friends, especially their overly friendly partners.

He frowned. He opened his mouth to say something, but one of his friends decided to pipe up.

"Hey! Share with the class, what the hell are you two talking about?"

"She speaks!? We have got to hear it!"

"Come on, Cy! Let us in!"

He slammed his fist on the table, silencing everyone once again and causing a bit of their beers to spill.

"That's it." He growled, rising up from his seat and holding you tight. "We're leaving."

All six of them began whining loudly, pawing at Cyprus and yourself, begging you both to stay.

"You all can fuck off to hell." He spat, whipping out enough cash to cover the beers for you and him.

"Come on, doll. We're going home."

He stared at you, waiting for you to lead the way.

However, you thought about it. Maybe they meant well; just a little too eager to know you. Maybe you could get more information about him through his friends, perhaps you could act like the opposite of his type.

[purriteen]

Ad victor spolia, chapter two

content warnings: incest, manipulation, eventual Stockholm Syndrome, toxic & dark!Coriolanus Snow (as if that isn't his default), named!reader, ANGST, eventual smut, non-con, age gap (5-6 years)

author's note: I feel like this chapter is kinda shitty since I’ve mostly written pure smut before, not to mention I haven’t written in English in a while so I’m still warming back up to the language & structure

but alright, since I've just been projectile vomiting words all day anyways y'all get two chapters at once this time mostly cause I myself couldn't wait to flesh out what happens next

word count: 3,345

Previous chapter

Next chapter

You struggled to fall asleep that night. You’d already come to the conclusion that slipping past the guards positioned along the tall metal fence or the main gate wouldn’t be possible, but at least, before you used to have the privilege of leaving the house and spending time in the garden whenever you wanted. Now you were truly trapped. Now that you needed to get out of here the most.

At first you’d enjoyed going for walks in the garden or having tea in one of the quaint greenhouses, until you discovered the one with those god awful rose bushes. The ones that reeked of your brother. You figured he didn’t tend to them himself, but that didn’t ease the disgust you felt whenever that familiar, overwhelming scent reached you. It was nauseating.

Even in his absence, everything reminded you of him, in the worst way possible. In every nook and cranny of the house there’d be a reminder that this was his home. For a moment you wondered if his signature scent had worn off on you; your shower was equipped with various settings and products, but it was always stacked with that familiar rose shampoo you could smell on him whenever he got close to you - too close for your liking -, without exceptions.

When you finally fell asleep, your face was raw and puffy from all the crying. You hadn’t even bathed or brushed your hair, or changed into one of the many pyjama sets in your wardrobe.

Then, at around seven in the morning according to your alarm clock, you awoke to the sound of keys rustling outside your door. You were relieved when you realised it wasn’t Coriolanus - he’d never make such an awkward entrance. Instead, your nanny maid stepped through the door. Eugenie. She looked even more anxious than usual. Perhaps she took pity on you - if only she knew. 

The two of you hardly spoke that early Friday morning. She’d brought something for you to eat, stacked on a silver tray. As if you needed another reminder of your complete lack of autonomy here, your own brother now wouldn’t even let you have breakfast in the kitchen anymore. At least he’d been generous enough to let you have something you could actually stand to eat, you supposed. A bowl of blueberries and grapes and a fresh loaf of bread with butter and marmalade, neatly plated next to it. 

You sat on the small couch in the corner of the room as you ate your breakfast, only managing to get small bites down. Watching Eugenie change your bedsheets and clean up after last night, you simply couldn’t think about anything else. That was enough to make your appetite vanish.

Once you were both done she gestured towards the bathroom, and you took the hint. She went in first and ran a warm bath for you, before leaving the room to give you some privacy. Finally you took a proper look at yourself for the first time since yesterday.

Your hair was a mess, but what worried you most was the prevailing handprint on the left side of your face. Three, four stripes of a faint purplish colour that was already fading to yellow in some places. You shakily inhaled, forcing yourself to keep it together. The last thing you needed was for Coriolanus to think he was getting to you, even if he was right.

Yet you still didn’t realise the extent of your injuries until you’d already sunk down into the bathtub, relatively comfortably so. You’d felt the swelling on the back of your head last night, of course, but it was almost worse now. All you wanted to do at the moment was fall back asleep, but the aching bump on the back of your skull made it impossible to rest your head anywhere without being in pain. 

A couple minutes later, Eugenie returned. This time with an ice pack in hand, which she carefully placed in your hand and guided it towards the back of your head. She flashed you an almost sorrowful, empathetic smile, before she stepped back and closed the door behind her.

You weren’t particularly fond of her, but you didn’t want to make the poor woman’s job any harder than it already was. So you made sure to thoroughly wash yourself before she got back. The sight of the dried blood from your scalp liquifying and mixing with the bathwater as you rinsed your hair made you feel nauseous. 

You wondered what dinner would be like. If he would pretend nothing happened yesterday, or perhaps dish out another beating. You still hadn’t entirely grasped everything that went down last night. Everything he had kept from you, above anything, the hatred he’d felt for you. The thought of your warm, outwardly unassuming cousin having to make such a sacrifice for you made you feel sick. Poor Tigris. 

Not to mention being reminded of your mother’s passing. You knew she’d died in childbirth, your birth, but you never thought of it as your fault until he brought it up. Grandma’am never once blamed you for the loss of her only daughter-in-law. And until that moment, neither had Coryo. Not openly, at least. You were left staring at yourself in the mirror for a while, wondering if it was truly worth it. If you were worth it.

You knew you couldn’t afford to think like that, to let him get to you. But this was all so unlike the Coryo you were used to, you’d seen this side of him before, to some extent, but never directed towards you. You wished he had just stayed away, that he would’ve left you alone after the initial shock of Grandma’am’s passing. 

As you patted yourself dry with the soft white towel always hung on the gilded heating rack, you couldn’t help but wonder if this is what you deserved. You’d dragged everyone down. You hadn’t even been able to take proper care of grandma’am the last couple days of her life, or at least, Coriolanus wouldn’t let you. 

You sat down on the edge of the bathtub. Waited a couple more minutes. Got impatient again. You decided you might as well get dressed again before Eugenie came back, but the pile of clothes you’d left on the floor was already gone. In its place a peachy slip dress and a robe, with a pair of slippers to match. You sighed and slid on the matching set.

A few minutes later, she returned just on time. This time she just had a glass of water and a small yellow-ish pill in hand. You furrowed your brows a little, looking up at her. “What’s this for?” You inquired, silently scolding yourself as you heard the annoyance in your own voice. This wasn’t her fault, it’s Coriolanus you were upset with. “It’ll help the healing, Miss.” You simply nodded in return, washing down the small capsule with a sip of water before returning the glass to her.

Concern was written all over her face as she studied you for a couple seconds, discomfort forming in your gut. “I’ll be back in four hours with lunch. Master Coriolanus asked me to inform you that his personal stylist will pay you a visit tonight at six.” Her words came out tense and rushed, and you were left with no time to react before she stepped back and locked the door again. You weren’t sure why she was so out of it, or if you even wanted to know.

You were familiar with Coriolanus’ personal stylist. She’d been the one to prepare you for any of those important public appearances where your attendance was actually needed. Rumina, you believe her name was. She was not the type of person you’d expected to find working such a job - she was always well dressed, but always in a timeless, classic fashion rather than the bold, colourful looks that were all the rage this year. 

You supposed that might’ve been why your brother hired her in the first place. Beyond just that, she appeared to be in her fifties or sixties, whereas most stylists were much younger. The reason for that on the other hand, you couldn’t quite grasp. But despite her elegant exterior, you couldn’t stand her personality. She wouldn’t shut up about how delighted she was that somebody was finally ‘stepping up’ to truly restore Panem to its ‘former glory’. 

Truthfully you’d given up on politics long ago - you’d never been among the pick of the litter back at the Academy, largely thanks to being so caught up with caring for Grandma’am. Not to mention the way your last name seemed to precede you every time you entered a classroom - it was clear you had big shoes to fill, after your big brother’s academic achievements - which only drove you further away. So it was clear that wasn’t the right path for you. But at least, before Coriolanus’ presidency, you’d actually thought you might one day have a career of your own, something worth dedicating your life to. You just needed to heal and learn how to stand on your own two feet. 

Until he’d robbed you of that opportunity entirely. You didn’t even truly understand why, how it in any way actually served him. He had every reason to lock up Tigris, if he was simply worried about his own family turning on him. You’d never stood up to him in that sense before, or tried to distance yourself. He’d done a great job at that himself. If he genuinely believed you were so frail, he could’ve just left you in that penthouse to let you wither away in peace. He didn’t need to keep you so close to him.

Despite feeling about as rejuvenated as you could get under these circumstances after that bath, you felt a wave of drowsiness hit you. You laid back on the newly made bed, hoping to just fall back asleep. Instead you laid awake for nearly half an hour, staring at the canopy ceiling. Eventually you’d had enough.

You got up and walked over to your dresser, quickly pulling open your underwear drawer. You doubted that it was actually hidden, but you’d kept some old memorabilia from your childhood stashed in the shoe box at the very back of the drawer. Pictures of you and Grandma’am. Of all four of you who survived. Even a couple pictures of Coryo and your mom and dad together before you were born. 

There was a particular picture of them you just couldn’t stand. As far as you knew Coryo didn’t even remember the photograph’s existence. Mrs. Snow was sat next to your father, who stood up straight right by her side, with their newborn son in her arms. His gloved hand was steadily placed on her shoulder, but his face was about as devoid of any emotion as hers was of happiness. He had Coriolanus’ eyes - a pale shade of blue, cold and unforgiving. 

Your mother on the other hand, looked afraid, exhausted and tense. No amount of makeup was enough to hide the dark circles under her wide eyes. You’d always admired her beauty, and although you never had the chance to know her, you felt a sense of pride in the resemblance the two of you bore. You had her eyes, her smile, her lips. Even her hair, although hers was wavier than yours. Coriolanus always recalled her as a warm, loving mother, and you didn’t doubt that, but this picture always gave you the impression she had to have been wildly unprepared for the task of becoming a mom, and consequently disillusioned. Or worse.

Everyone always spoke fondly of her, of her charm and youthfulness, and you couldn’t help but wonder if they were simply tiptoeing around the word naive. You didn’t have any memories of your father either, but just from the few photographs you had of him he’d always instilled a sense of fear in you. You hated how much Coriolanus was starting to resemble him. 

Finally you got to the picture of Grandma’am holding you in her arms shortly after your mother passed. She was visibly shaken up, and both you and her worn hands were bloody. You’d been told many times of how close a call it was, how the family cook was convinced you wouldn’t make it. You could only imagine how she must’ve felt in that moment, holding her two weeks premature, frail granddaughter in her arms after watching her daughter-in-law lose her life.

It didn’t take long for you to start crying, something which only got worse as you scrambled through the rest of your small collection of family photos. The family fortune had run out awfully fast during the Dark Days, so there were hardly any taken during your childhood. The few you had left were mostly school photos and ones taken at various social events. Even though you couldn’t afford your own photographer, you’d always kept the unprocessed copies and had them processed and printed whenever you had some extra money to spare. Much to Coriolanus’ dismay you’d always been sentimental, just like your cousin.

You stayed like that for almost an hour. All those photos of you smiling in your brother's arms, the ones where he posed so proudly with his baby sister, made you feel nostalgic for something you’d hardly even experienced. You couldn’t grasp that this boy, your Coryo, could’ve gone from that prideful older brother you saw in those pictures to the man he was today. You wondered if Grandma’am had felt the same way bringing up Crassus.

When you finally got up from your seat on the floor, you carefully put the stack of photographs away again, along with the pearl necklace and perfume bottle you’d kept after Grandma’am’s passing, to remind you of her. You didn’t have anything tangible left of your parents, but you had fond memories of Coriolanus letting you sleep with your mother’s powder compact when you were younger. He’d always been possessive, though - only if you were really upset would he share it with you. 

You checked the time. Almost ten o’clock. You went off to your bathroom to splash your face with some cold water, shivering as you looked up and were met with the sight of the yellowing bruise on your cheek. You’d almost forgotten. At least it was healing quickly, like Eugenie promised. After nearly exhausting yourself with tears, your throat hoarse and eyes puffy and red, you finally felt tired enough to take a nap. So you did. You nearly threw yourself back onto the soft, queen size bed and let your eyes flutter shut.

When you woke again it was noon. This time Eugenie had gone unnoticed when she entered, as you only awoke when you heard the wheels of the food cart she wheeled in after herself awkwardly bumping into the threshold, making the porcelain inside clatter against itself. You were startled at first, but immediately calmed down when you realised it was just her. 

Soon enough lunch too had passed, and this time Eugenie stuck around to keep you company for a little while. She taught you how to knit, and you lent her your favourite book. For a moment you’d almost forgotten the gravity of the situation you were in. Until she scurried to get up, proclaiming she was late to laundry service. You glanced at the longcase clock across the room, a bit surprised to find it was already quarter past four in the evening. You had forty-five minutes until your brother’s stylist would turn up.

You spent that time trying to perfect your knitting technique, ignoring the stiffness in your hands as best as you could. You’d never excelled at crafts like Tigris did, or patience, for that matter.

Finally Rumina arrived, and you were almost relieved. She immediately started to babble on about the latest gossip, and as always, sang your brother’s praises. Though, today it was particularly unbearable, and you thought to yourself that someone working so closely with him and his image should know that it’s just that, an image. That your brother didn’t give a flying fuck about the districts, even if he had improved the living conditions of the tributes in the annual Hunger Games, and that he didn’t even really care about the Capitol either. You’d come to terms with the fact that Coriolanus was only loyal to one thing: power.

You had stayed silent as she blow dried, brushed and twisted and folded your hair up behind your head. When she was done she offered you a handheld mirror to have a look for yourself, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes when you were met with a tidy french twist. Of course your brother had chosen something conservative that’d thoroughly conceal the bloody lump he’d given you.

Then she had done your makeup. This time she laid the base on thicker than usual, but you weren’t surprised Coriolanus intended to hide your bruise, too. You wondered if it was for his own conscience’s sake or for his image. But it could hardly be the latter, you doubted he would let anyone see you so soon after last night’s events. Then again, you weren’t sure he even had a conscience, either.

When you were done, you looked perfectly rejuvenated. Though to you it felt like an empty shell. Rumina eagerly guided you out into your bedroom and helped you get dressed. It seemed your brother had picked out yet another tasteless, phoney dress that you’d feel nothing like yourself in. Much like the makeup it was more glamorous than you’d expected.

The material was flowy, probably something like chiffon, but it was perfectly cinched at your waist, the sweetheart neckline and the puffy fabric at your hips flattering your figure just right. There was some sort of built in corset that stopped just below your chest. The sleeves were long and puffy much like the skirt, which stopped just above your ankles. You knew Coriolanus was always up to whatever dress code applied, and something this elegant was hardly necessary for a simple dinner. 

But what really stood out to you was the colour. It was a deep shade of burgundy; one you’d seen on Coriolanus oh so many times. You felt your jaw clench. It was bad enough that he insisted on dressing you up, like a mere doll, but this was yet another jab at your independence and individuality. Like you were just an extension of him.

Still, complaining to his own stylist would be of no use, so you decided to suck it up and let her finish dressing you. She clasped a silver necklace around your neck, a garnet pendant in the shape of an octagon hanging from it, framed by more silver. It almost seemed compulsive how your brother just had to show off his wealth every chance he got. Finally you slid on some black velvet kitten heels and had a look in the mirror. 

You looked like something out of a gothic painting. (A tragedy, if you had to guess.) That wouldn’t be too unlike your current situation. Only there wouldn’t be a handsome, brooding young mythological hero to save you. No, your ‘prince charming’ had few positive attributes beyond just that - his superficial charm -, and no intention of saving you. 

You felt like a lamb being led to the slaughter as you walked down the stairs to the main floor, confusion spreading on your face as you saw one of Coriolanus’ many servants waiting for you at the bottom. He stiffly informed you that there’d been a change of plans, that he’d be escorting you to the larger dining room over in the east wing. You hadn’t even explored the house enough to know there were multiple.

When you arrived you quickly understood what the sudden change of plans was for. 

taglist: @caffeine-addict-slug, @phoward89, @catesbaroquecasahouse

[ghcstao3]

Hello! 👋 Hope you're having a fantastic day 💖 Could we maybe get a part two of that sweet Soap's mum's house story? Perhaps with some there is only one bed on the side when 141 retire for the night and Soap and Ghost have to share his tiny childhood bed?

i hope you’re well & ty for the ask!! writing this out i realize i’ve never actually written the only one bed trope before so! something new:)

(part 1)

-

Of course, as all rest and recuperation must go, there comes a point in their stay with Mrs. MacTavish where they all need to get some sleep.

Gaz is smart to take the couch, Ghost thinks. Price and Nik attempt to be discrete about sharing the one guest room available, and Ghost gets no choice in being dragged into Soap's childhood bedroom with the claim that there'll be an air mattress to blow up.

There is not.

Soap at least has the decency to look sheepish when he returns to the room after going to inquire with his mother.

"Ma said one of my sister's bairns made a hole in it last time they were up here," Soap explains. "So..."

They both slowly turn to face the twin bed shoved up against the wall, a mattress of which would certainly not fit two men of their size all that comfortably.

"No," is all Ghost says.

"C'mon, LT." Soap punches Ghost's shoulder. "We've managed with worse."

"I'll take my chances on the floor," Ghost grumbles. At least it's carpeted, he thinks.

Soap shakes his head. "And grouch about your back for the rest of the week? Not happening. Here."

The sergeant seizes Ghost's wrist and drags him toward the foot of the bed. He points to the mattress. "Sit."

Ghost reluctantly does as asked, watching silently as Soap digs through his drawers for pyjamas, presumably, but finds nothing that still fits. So instead he figures just to strip off his clothes, save for his boxers, as if his lieutenant isn't just sitting there.

Granted, they've seen each other naked before—they're soldiers, for crying out loud—but there's something... different about this. More intimate.

Soap climbs onto the bed, crowding himself as close to the wall as possible before patting the comforter.

"Your turn," he says.

"I'm not getting undressed."

Soap rolls his eyes. "Not that part, you dafty. Lay down."

Ghost huffs before awkwardly moving into place beside Soap. He lays stiff as a board, keeping as much to the edge of the mattress as he can manage without falling off—but even then, he's still inevitably pressed up against Soap in some capacity.

"Can you turn off the lamp?" Soap mumbles. Cleary he has no issue with this arrangement.

Ghost complies.

It isn't much of a surprise to him when Soap's soft breathing turns into snores in a short few minutes, all the while Ghost doesn't know if he's even so much as closed his eyes once, let alone taken a full breath. Being out in the middle of nowhere, it's hard to not be conscious of Soap beside him, when there's nothing else to turn his mind to.

Eventually, though, exhaustion does reach him. At some point Ghost feels the need to pull off his mask and at least attempt to fall asleep, because Soap was right—they have managed with worse.

He doesn't know when, but Ghost does end up sleeping.

And if Mrs. MacTavish finds the two of them curled up together the next morning, then she'll keep that to herself.

(And, of course, to the photo she takes to send to Soap's sister of her younger brother's face smushed into the back of the lieutenant he talks so much about. It's about time something happened, even if it's only this.)

[luveline]

Would u ever write about early days kbd! Steve and reader?? Maybe newly married or finding out about being pregnant for one of their babies?? I just love them so much ♡

kisses before dinner au —mom!reader, 1k

“I’m just gonna go to the bathroom really quickly and then I’m leaving,” you call. 

Steve calls back. “Okay, babe. Avery, say bye to mommy! Can you say bye? How about you, Beth?” 

Avery calls a happy goodbye. Beth babbles unintelligibly. I’ll say goodbye in a second, you think, slinking into the bathroom with a plan in mind. 

You bend down under the sink where you keep things that wouldn’t hurt anybody should they get pulled out; ointment for wet rash, diapers, and the little disposable pregnancy tests for emergencies. 

You and Steve are careful after your lovely first Avery. She’d been a surprise, and you weren’t willing to be blindsided again, but now that you’re actively trying the more expensive pregnancy tests have been taken upstairs and in tens. How many have you taken in the last three or four months? Too many to count, and the latest only last night. 

The test said negative, but you’ve been pregnant twice already. You know what it feels like. You’d woken up this morning and turned to watch Steve still sleeping, and you’d thought about waking him, but you didn’t want to get his hopes up again without knowing for sure. 

You let the test develop on the sink, contemplative, drying your washed hands slowly. You can hear Steve laughing like a kid in the kitchen, Bethie’s infectious baby laughter quick to follow. 

Avery shouts something like, “Stop, dad!” but you’re not sure what they’re fighting about. 

Trying for a baby is fun. It’s stressful, sure, but you enjoy the process (whoops) and there’s something so hopeful about waiting to see when it’ll happen. Steve is doubly excited, his anticipation contagious, and you want another baby so much you’ve started buying baby clothes, a wardrobe full of onesies and you’re stuffing in new socks and footie pyjamas every other day. You’ve even picked out the new wallpaper for the nursery. 

You really, really want another baby. 

The test finishes developing. You stare at it until your eyes cloud with tears. 

Last night, you took a test that didn’t come out with anything. Steve hadn’t baulked. He never does. He’d given you a short kiss and a longer hug, whispered, “It’s okay, we’ll just have to try again,” into your hair. 

You can’t help yourself. You grab the test and sweep out of the bathroom down the hallway to the kitchen. Bethie’s eyes glow when she sees you, her small arms held out to you waiting to be picked up. 

You’re very very sorry, but you throw yourself at Steve instead. 

“Hey!” he laughs, pushing you away. “I’m covered in sugar!” 

You wrap your arms behind his neck, “I don’t care!” 

“What?” he asks, totally perplexed. Then, despite his confusion, Steve hugs you tight and lets out a contented sigh. “Why are we so happy?” 

You make some space between you again to show him the test. His hand comes up under yours slowly, bigger, often gentler, cupping your fingers as he bends down to see it. “Oh,” he says. He falls quiet for a few seconds. 

When he looks up, he’s smiling. “Honey!” His smile abruptly catches, tears filling his eyes. “Oh my god.” 

“No, don’t,” you say, your voice wobbling. 

Steve tries to pick you up and spin you around, but there’s no room and you’re too heavy, too sure-footed, arms around his neck and kissing up his cheek. “You’re acting like I’m the one pregnant!” he says, fighting to kiss your cheek instead. “I’m so happy,” —he kisses you— “I could die,” —his lips press rough to the highest point of your cheek— “I could cry!” 

“You are crying,” you laugh wetly. 

Tears rush down his cheeks. “Three is so many.” 

“What? Don’t say that.” You wince as Bethie starts crying. “She thinks that too.” 

Steve picks Bethie up from her high chair and Avery in all her little Steve-ness gives you a brown eyed, doe-wide smile, pointing at your face. “Sad,” she says. “You’m crying, mom.” 

“I’m not–“ You wipe your cheeks with the backs of your hands. “I’m not sad, babe, I’m happy! Mommy’s so happy! It’s making me cry because I’m super happy, I’m not sad.” You smile at her sweetly. “Do I look sad, my love?” 

“Up, mommy,” she says, lifting her hands. You pick her up and laugh another round of tears down your cheeks as she starts to wipe them away. “Happy.” 

“Extremely happy,” Steve says. 

“Dad, you–” She looks between you both with a cartoonish frown. “Dad cry too?

“We are both so happy,” you say. 

Avery mumbles some strange garble of words in her high voice, and then asks more clearly for her buppy. Steve starts to open one of her bottles but his tears suddenly escalate, and he can’t see enough to finish pouring in her formula. 

“We’re having another baby,” he says to you. 

You breathe in a much needed breath. “Yeah, H. Another baby.” 

He passes you Beth, forcing you to manage both of the girls in your arms, and gets about halfway down the hall before he whoops loud enough to make you jump. 

“Okay,” he says, jogging back. “Can I call Robin? I’m so fucking excited.” 

You dot kisses against small foreheads. “We can tell, can’t we?” you ask, to Avery’s amusement. 

“Can tell, dad!” she parrots. 

Steve grabs you and pulls the three of you into an ironclad embrace. “I love you,” he says, much quieter now. You honestly don’t need him to tell you, you can feel it in every moment you spend together, but you take the confession greedily. 

“Yeah?” 

“Too much,” he says. He starts kissing you again, an overflowing heap of them, until the girls are too jealous to speak and you’re as late for work as you’ve ever been. 

[justabigassnerd]

Daddy's Little Girl

Pairing - Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell x daughter!reader

Word count - 1,484

Warnings - mentions of throwing up, sickness, mostly fluff

Summary - after a long night of being unwell, your dad is there to help you feel better

A/N - sorry it's been a while since my last fic, I'm still fighting for my life out here. this fic was an anon request (actually two) so I hope I did it justice. as per y'all please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

Maverick knew that having a young child meant that there would be days when you would get sick, and he would have to dedicate a few days to taking care of you. It’s part of what parenting entailed, and he knows he’d do just about anything to make sure his little girl is comfortable and looked after when she’s sick.

This time, you had clearly picked up a stomach bug from being at preschool and you had spent a large majority of the night emptying your stomach into the bucket Maverick had placed by his bed. He rubbed your back and kept your hair back from your face as you were sick and wiped your tears away when you had finished throwing up.

It took until the early hours of the morning for you to stop being sick and you soon curled up in Maverick’s arms, falling asleep almost instantly as Maverick brushed your hair away from your face and watched you sleep softly. He didn’t care if he got sick, all he cared about was you and whether you were okay. He couldn’t allow himself to do more than doze for the rest of the night in case you needed him at any moment.

By the time the morning had fully rolled around, Maverick had woken up before you, gently wiggling out from underneath you, picking up the bucket and taking it downstairs to clean it out before making himself a coffee and filling a bottle with water for you.

“Daddy!” Upon hearing your panicked cry, Maverick abandoned everything and darted up the stairs, every worst-case scenario making its way into his head as he took the steps two at a time to reach you faster. When he threw the door open, he was relieved to see you looking relatively okay aside from the tears that filled your eyes. Upon seeing your dad, you lifted your arms, and more tears worked their way down your cheeks. Maverick crossed to you, picking you up without hesitation and wiping your tears away softly as you cling to him, snuggling as close as you could.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” Maverick coos softly, fighting the urge to bounce you lightly in case it upsets your stomach. You don’t respond, snuggling impossibly closer to your dad as your tears stop. Maverick rests the back of his hand against your forehead, relieved to notice that while you’re still warm, you’re not as warm as you were during the night.

“Let’s get you a quick bath, huh? That’ll help you feel a little better.” Maverick says, heading into your room to pick out a fresh pair of pyjamas and then heading into the bathroom and running a bath for you. When you’re in the bath, Maverick kneels alongside the tub, washing you gently and checking up on you, making sure you didn’t feel like you were going to be sick. You perked up a little bit, but you still weren’t at one hundred percent. When you’re cleaned up, Maverick drains the tub and then wraps you in a warm fluffy towel before lifting you out, drying you off before getting you into the new pyjamas.

“I’m going to make us some breakfast, do you think you could handle some toast? Does that sound good?” Maverick asks as he enters his bedroom once more, moving to put you down on his bed, stopping when you cling to him and whine.

“No daddy, don’t go.” You whine, refusing to let go despite his attempts to put you down.

“Hey, I’ll only be downstairs. You get to relax in daddy’s comfy bed, that’s way better than being in the kitchen.” Maverick attempts to bargain with you as you refuse to detangle yourself from your dad’s arms.

“No, wanna stay with you.” You whimper, clinging tighter to Maverick’s shirt so he can’t put you down. Maverick feels his heart breaking at your words, not being able to find it within him to deny your request.

“Okay, you can come with me.” Maverick says, setting you on his hip once more and heading downstairs to the kitchen where the bottle of water and now cold cup of coffee sat on the counter. Maverick sits you at the kitchen table and turns his attention to pouring out the cold coffee and making a new one and putting some bread in the toaster. As he busies himself with making something to eat for both you and him, he feels you wrap your arms around his leg, and he glances down with a soft smile.

“Was the chair not good enough, squirt?” Maverick muses jokingly as he ruffles at your hair, picking up his new mug of coffee and taking a sip. He hands you your water bottle just as the toast pops out of the toaster, he places one slice on one of your small plastic plates and two slices on his plate. He butters your toast and cuts it into small squares. Maverick moves back to the kitchen table, placing the plates and his mug on the table before sitting down and lifting you onto his lap so you could both eat your breakfast.

“Not too fast. We don’t want to upset your tummy.” Maverick says gently as you take a big bite out of the first square. He knew you were most likely starving due to the fact you’d been emptying your stomach most of the night, but he didn’t want you eating too fast in case it ended badly. Listening to your dad, you begin to take smaller bites as well as taking sips of water when Maverick gently prompts you to, reminding you of the importance of staying hydrated, especially when you’re sick. He knew you might not pay much mind to his words, but he figured if he started reminding you of the importance of taking care of yourself when you’re sick, you’d remember his words as you grew up and take care of yourself when you were unwell or burnt out. When both of you finished your breakfast, Maverick had to carefully navigate moving the plates from the table to the dishwasher with you still sitting on his hip before filling up your water bottle once more and handing it to you upon your request.

“Alright, kiddo. I think it's time to rest up a little more. You need to rest to make sure you feel better.” Maverick says as he brushes a strand of hair from your face, fighting back a frown at the temperature still clinging to your cheeks.

“Okay, daddy.” You say, cuddling close to your dad as he stops in the kitchen doorway.

“We have two choices here. We can go upstairs and watch a movie in daddy’s room. Or we could watch a movie in the living room. Your choice.” Maverick says, giving you the freedom to choose where you want to chill out. You think deeply, your eyebrows furrowing.

“Daddy’s room.” You eventually say, winding your arms around his neck and snuggling close, the coolness of the water bottle against his neck making Maverick bite back a wince.

“My room it is.” Maverick concludes with a grin, heading up the stairs and into his bedroom. He puts you on the bed before climbing in himself and as he grabs the remote, you’re instantly curling into his side, resting your head on his chest. Maverick skims through the various movies until you point out one, you’d like to watch. When you find a movie you like, he hits play and puts the remote down on the bedside table.

“You let me know if your tummy starts hurting, okay?” Maverick mumbles as the opening credits play, running a hand up and down your back as you nod against his chest. Maverick kept a close eye on you as you remained focused on the movie, giggling at the antics of one of the cartoon characters on the screen.

Maverick knew that having you cling and cuddle up to him was a risk of him getting sick too, but he didn’t care at all. All he cared about was your comfort and that you were feeling better. You were his world, his everything and he’d do just about anything he could to make sure you were comfortable and loved even on the days when you weren’t feeling well. He hated whenever you were sick, be it the tiniest cough or the sick bug you were dealing with now. He wished he could do nothing more than to take it away from you, so you didn’t ever have to feel sick or in pain. You were his little girl and he’d do just about anything for you.

As he watched you watching the movie, he couldn’t stop a small smile from gracing his face. He got lucky with you and he’d never let you forget how much he loved you.

[hannahssimblr]

Jen sleeps on my bedroom floor that night. Others crash in the living room, and Evie retreats to the guest room, as per my mother’s instructions. We don’t get the chance to say goodnight. 

Now, mom and I whisper at each other on the landing.

“Can I say goodbye to Ivy?”

“No, she’s fast asleep. You’ll only disturb her.”

“Okay, but I won’t see her. I think she’d like to see me, too.”

She purses her lips. “She’s too small, and she’s starting school again soon. You’ll throw her whole routine off, and you’ll have her upset with all this talk of leaving. I’ll pass on your goodbyes in the morning.”

But when she goes to bed, I sneak in regardless, peeking around Ivy’s door into her room, lit with the dim glow of her nightlight. There, I stand for a few moments as she sleeps soundly, her arms thrown over her pillow and her blonde hair around her head like a halo. She’s always slept like that, like a little maniac, arms and legs akimbo, determined to take up as much space as possible. Her chest rises and falls in the slow, steady rhythm of her breath. 

I step away and quietly shut the door. 

Back in my room, Jen is sleeping too. I’m careful to undress myself quietly, and climb under the covers. 

Setting my alarm is the last thing I do. 

Four. 

I awake to the vibration of my phone and the frantic song of the first birds of dawn. It is still dark, but that other-worldly, early morning haze that you only catch before the first burst of sunrise. 

Goosebumps erupt on my skin as I climb out of bed. I dress myself and fix my hair. 

Evie is still sleeping. 

In the bathroom, I clean my teeth, then leave the toothpaste out on the counter for her. She won’t know that we keep it in the cabinet, because anything that doesn’t suit the colour scheme of the bathroom is deemed offensive to the eyes. She will appreciate knowing where to find it when she gets up.

Afterwards, I risk a gentle knock on her door, to no response. After waiting a few moments for sounds of life, I receive nothing.

A slice of dim sunlight streams through the bathroom door and across the floorboards. 

I knock again. 

“Evie?”

Nothing. 

She must be sleeping in. We were all awake past midnight, at least, so she’ll be tired, but I’m certain she’ll get up soon. 

To my left, a door squeaks.

My sister, in her pyjamas, rubs sleep from her eyes. “Hello.”

“Why are you awake?”

“Because I heard you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” I climb to my knees in front of her. “I was trying to wake someone else. She must be a heavier sleeper than you, yeah?”

“Are you going now?”

“In about an hour.”

“Oh.” She doesn’t know how to feel about this yet. It’s too early to make decisions. Her hair is sticking up in all directions, and her eyes are weighty with sleep. 

I smile. “You should go back to bed.”

“Were you going to say goodbye to me?”

I hesitate. “Of course I was.”

“Oh, okay.”

“C’mere.” I hold my arms out for a hug, and she falls into them, all warm from her bed, her cheek soft and hot on the side of my neck. 

“I’ll see you soon, alright?”

“Will you ring me?”

“Every day, if that’s what you want.”

“Oh, no. I won’t want that. You’re too annoying to talk to every day.”

“Alright, jeez. Once a week?”

She considers this. “Yeah, alright.”

“Glad we could come up with a deal.”

She squeezes me tighter. “Okay. Bye, Judie.”

“Bye, Ivy.” I squeeze her back and rock her side to side until she begs to be freed. I oblige and flick her lightly on the forehead. “Get back to bed, right?”

She nods, becoming still and quiet, and I start to worry she might cry. I can’t handle any more crying. 

“C’mon, don’t be silly. Go to bed. I’ll call you in a few hours.”

“Yeah.”

“Go on,” I push her back into her room, and watch her climb back under the covers, curled up on her side with just her face poking out, red nose and wet eyes. 

“Miss you,” she says. 

“Miss you too.”

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