#waking up to her dying sounds and her husband stayed with her. i left the room to give them their space

[officialtokyosan]

z

[holdmytesseract]

A cute little drabble request for baby fever in the future or for the sleepover: Y/N, Ella, and 2 year old Narfi all get sick with the flu and loki has to take care of all of them, Y/N being the sickest, feels like she is dying and Loki comforts her. Just a little cute one.

Caring Husband and Father

Warnings: sickness a.k.a the flu, fluff

Word Count: blurb

a/n: Thank you for this request, friend. This drabble turned out to be so soft and sweet! 🥹

"Dada," Narfi sobbed on Loki's arm; head lolling from side to side against his father's chest. "I know, little prince, I know..." The god whispered and pressed his lips against the top of his son's curly haired head; trying to reassure him. In vain. Narfi kept on whining and sobbing.

"Are your earaches worse, huh?" The little boy just snivelled and rubbed his snotty nose against Loki's t-shirt. He sighed, "Thought so." and shifted the two-year-old on his arm, so that he could check on his temperature. "But I think your fever sunk a bit. That's good."

Narfi had caught a nasty flu. Well, only because Ella had caught it. He got it from his big sister and well, you... You caught it as well. Everybody was knocked out by it. Except Loki. Perhaps it was his godly biology, which prevented him from getting sick easily. A thing which you were glad about, because he could look after you and the kids. A task he submitted himself to happily.

The god walked with the toddler still on his arm into the kitchen, in order to give him some meds against the flu itself and especially earaches. The boy swallowed bravely the disgustingly tasting medicine. "There you go," Loki pressed a kiss on his forehead. "You are so brave, sweet boy." Narfi sobbed once more and cuddled back against his dad's chest; little arms looping around his neck.

"Come on, little prince, time for a nap." He carried Narfi into the living room and laid down with him on the sofa; knowing that his son was way too clingy and wouldn't let go of him now.

Loki's seidr helped Narfi's earaches at least a little bit and so he slept in on top of Loki; snugly wrapped up in a blanket. It was absolutely cosy and Narfi's weight upon his upper body so comfortable, it almost lulled the raven haired god to sleep as well. He was about to doze off, when a quiet voice brought him back down to earth.

"B-Babe?"

At the sound of your voice, Loki's eyes immediately flew open; head turning to face the door. His heart broke then and there, as he saw you standing there, wrapped up in a fluffy blanket. You were utterly pale and had deep rings underneath your eyes. He could see how weak you were and how bad you felt. The flu had really taken its toll on you...

Loki stood up instantly, but carefully - not to wake the toddler sleeping on his chest, "I'm here, darling." and stepped over to you. "Do you need anything, my love? Can I help you?" You coughed, which caused your whole body to shake; eyes glassy. "I-I dunno, I just... I feel like shit." Then your gaze fell on your son. "H-How's my baby doing?"

Loki pressed a kiss against your forehead; the warmth against his lips radiating from your skin concerned him. "He's doing okay; only slept in about ten minutes ago." You felt how your husband wrapped a strong arm gently around your waist. "Come, darling." You didn't argue, of course, and let Loki guide you back to the bedroom.

He helped you lay down. "Stay here. I'll be right with you. I'm just going to put Narfi down and look after our princess." You nodded and curled yourself up into a ball. Loki let his eyes roam your weak and fragile body with worry on his face, before he left the bedroom again.

Carefully, the god put Narfi down; laying him inside his baby cot and making sure he was warm enough. Of course, he took the baby monitor with him, then went to check on Ella. He hadn't heard a word from her in a few hours. It didn't concern the god much, since she's been sleeping a lot in the past days; letting her body work to get the flu out of its system.

Slowly, he opened the door to her room and peeked inside. He was right. His daughter was fast asleep; curled up underneath her blanket. Soft snores left her lips, due to her stuffy nose. On tiptoes, he walked over and placed a hand on her forehead. Ella's fever was gone. Loki smiled softly. At least someone of his family was getting better.

The raven haired god leaned down and kissed her forehead as well; tucking the girl back in properly and left the room again.

Before he returned to you, he made you another cup of camomile tea and took some of your meds with him.

He found you just like he left you... Curled up on the bed. "Darling..." He stepped over and sat down on the edge of the bed. You turned to him. "I made you some tea and brought you medicine. It's time for you to take them," Loki spoke in a quiet voice; handing you the meds and the bottle of water, standing on your nightstand.

Again, you nodded and took the medicine; along of a small sip of hot tea. Loki helped you to get comfortable then; fluffing your pillow and making sure that you were comfortable. "Is that to your liking, my love? Are you comfortable?" "Y-Yes, thank you." Your husband gave you a soft smile. "Anything else you need?" Your soft, glassy Y/E/C met his. "You... Just you... Please..." You reached for his hand; his warm palm engulfing yours.

Another soft smile grazed his lips and he dipped his head to press a kiss against the skin of your hand, before he let go of you again and quickly rounded the bed to join you. Loki cuddled up against you; curled his body against yours. "Is that okay, darling?" "Mhh..." You hummed; "Perfect." closing your eyes. "Thank you for taking care of us." Loki kissed your neck. "Of course, my love. Always."

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[icarus-sun-writes]

“I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Captain John Price x dying! wife! Reader

~2.3k words

TW: death, cancer, detailed descriptions of the cancer toll on reader, mentions of wheelchair, oxygen tanks and feeding tubes. (Cancer descriptions based on the loss of my grandmother.)

IN WHICH: John comes home from work to spend time with his sickly wife.

(I’d like to mention that I originally posted this fic on my last tumblr blog “shy-girl-moments” but it got terminated, so I wanted to re-upload on my new blog because I loved this so much.)

“Love, I'm home…!” John called out softly. It was unnerving with how quiet the house was considering his wife was usually happy and loud, only a week ago her cancer had worsened and left her reliant on a wheelchair. She was so tired and weak all the time. She had a feeding tube and was on oxygen at the same time.

John closed the door behind him and left his work bag by the door, purposely trying to be quiet in case she was sleeping. He looked around the house for any sign of his wife, eventually finding her sleeping on the couch with her feeding tube still connected and her wheelchair parked next to the couch. There was a cheesy romantic comedy movie playing in the background on a low volume. Since she hardly got the opportunity to leave the house, she often resorted to watching movies. Gently and slowly, John picked her head up and off the pillow and sat down, laying her head on his lap.

She groaned softly when John picked her head up, mumbling incoherently and stirring slightly, but soon settled back into her sleep. John smiled at how adorable she was. It saddened him to see her sleeping in the middle of the day but what choice did she have? She was terminally ill, her body was so exhausted that she slept most of the day even though she tried to fight it so she could spend time with him. John began softly stroking his poor wife's hair, hoping the comforting feeling would make it for her to stay asleep. Even the act of sleeping looked uncomfortable. She looked sick. The bags under her eyes were deep and dark, she was frail, and her voice was often sore, but she always tried to have a smile on her face.

John could see that she had her wedding ring clutched in her fist as she slept. Since she was losing a lot of weight due to the cancer, she had to wear her ring around her neck on a chain because it would just fall off her finger. She had a habit of holding it often as a sort of comfort. Price's eyes were soft as he watched the rise and fall of her chest. He had watched his wife’s health decline rapidly over the past few months. Seeing his wife so skinny and in pain had been hard on John but even harder on her. He had to stay strong for her. One of his hands continued to run through his wife’s thinning hair as the other slowly lifted her shirt. Her hip bones stuck out painfully from the thin skin and John traced them with his fingers gently, a sense of deep sorrow sinking into his heart.

A few minutes later she turned her head and nuzzled John's thighs. All was silent for a few seconds —besides the sound of her drip bag for her feeding tube and oxygen tank— then she spoke faintly, “John?” She opened her eyes slightly, looking up at her husband.

John felt his heart soften when he saw his wife’s tired and pained face. He loved his wife so much. Without hesitating for a moment he replied back to her, his voice was soft and had a tinge of guilt at seeing his wife in such a state but it was also filled with so much love, “Yes? I’m right here darling.”

She smiled weakly at John, taking another few seconds to speak again, “I… love you…” Another few seconds passed, “stay with me…”

John’s heart broke at hearing how quiet and tired her voice was. He felt the guilt rise in his body at the idea of him not being there for his wife, but he quickly pushed those thoughts from his mind when he noticed how she still had her wedding ring clutched in her hand. John gently moved his hands to run through her hair again, hoping the feeling of comfort would ease his wife.

“Of course I will… I’ll- I’ll always be with you. I love you too darling.” John said, the sadness evident in his voice.

“Kiss…?” She asked faintly, a look of love in her tired eyes.

John’s heart began to beat faster when he heard his wife’s request. It was so simple of a request yet it filled his heart with so much love. He didn’t hesitate to lean down and press a loving kiss on his wife’s forehead then another on her lips. He pulled away just enough to whisper, “There you go darling. You’re so cute…”

“Kiss.” She asked again, a bit more firmness in her voice and a faint, sly smirk on her lips. There was a glimmer of mischief in her eyes, too. It hurt John, knowing that she was using so much of her energy just to try to be silly.

“Oh, so feisty today?” John’s heart rate skyrocketed when he saw the smirk of his wife’s face and he held back a laugh.

It hurt John, knowing that she was using so much of her energy just to try to be silly, but it did make his heart flutter to see her smile again. He gave in easily and leaned back down to kiss her on the lips again. This time a little longer and more passionate, but still just as loving in nature as the first one. But he had a teasing smirk on his own face too, wanting to match her silly mood. She opened her mouth ever so slightly in an effort to deepen the kiss, smiling weakly.

John couldn’t help but smile when he felt her trying to deepen the kiss. Gently, he pulled away from the kiss leaning down to murmur against her ear, “Needy, aren’t we?” He teased jokingly before gently kissing his wife’s cheek and continuing softly, “You’ve gotta take it easy, darling. You’re still sick, love. And you know how easy it is for you to tire yourself out now…”

There was a faint blush on her cheeks, her eyes showed that she understood her husband’s words, but was still disappointed. “I love you…” she murmured again, not having the strength to argue even though she wanted to.

John smiled warmly at the blush on her cheeks. Seeing the beautiful rosy tint to his wife’s pale cheeks filled his heart with so much love. He loved every detail of her beautiful face and he loved to see that blush, even with how sick she looked.

“And I love you too darling. So stop trying to get yourself all worked up. I don’t want you doing more than just resting at the moment.” John insisted softly, gently stroking her thinning hair.

A few seconds later her closed her eyes and fell asleep quickly once again. It was obvious how exhausted her body was from the cancer, her entire body weak to the point of needing a wheelchair and a feeding tube. John felt a pang in his heart when he saw her fall asleep again so easily. The poor woman must’ve been so exhausted from just being up for a few minutes. John’s eyes ran down his wife’s body again and he could only feel guilt and sadness when he saw just how much weight she had lost. He kept one hand gently massaging his wife’s hair but his other hand gently moved to lift up her shirt again. He stared at the jut of his wife’s hip bones and tried to push down the feeling of impending doom.

John had to pry his eyes away from his sickly wife, turning to the TV for some type of distraction. The romcom she chose was her favorite, the one she watched over and over again, the same one she forced John to watch on their first date. She liked it because the love interest looked like John when he was in his teenage years. After about an hour of anxiety filled disassociating, John was suddenly aware that his wifes oxygen levels dropped drastically; slow, shallow, faint breaths. He immediately sat up right, very alarmed and scared.

“Darling?” He gently shook her shoulder, trying to wake her up but not startle her, “wake up for me. You’re not breathing right, love.”

She woke up after a second and furrowed her brows, taking a deeper breath. She glared slightly at John and pouted, clearly very annoyed, “w-what?”

John felt a rush of relief when she woke up and started breathing again. But his eyes narrowed at the pout on his wife’s face, “Don’t ‘what’ me. You weren’t breathing well again.” He paused for a moment before adding, “I can’t have my beautiful wife suffocating on me. You can’t scare me like that.”

She fought the urge to roll her eyes, but nodded slightly. It took her a long moment to speak, “sit me up… like the nurse said… so I can sleep…”

John let out a sigh when he saw the look in her eyes, noting the fact she was obviously restraining herself from rolling her eyes. He couldn’t blame her though since he knew his wife was in pain and extremely tired from just the act of being awake. He gently lifted her up and sat her upright on the couch again.

“There’s my good girl... now you can get proper sleep from now on. But if I hear you’re not breathing properly again, I swear I’ll go turn up the oxygen flow.” He said firmly, yet his touch was soft and comforting, there was no mirth behind his tone.

She just stared at him for a long moment, starting to tear up slightly, her pout deepening, “I’m sorry… for being cranky.” She mumbled, starting to take deeper breaths now that she was sat up, “I’m just… so tired.”

John’s heart shattered at seeing tears well up in his wife’s eyes. She was clearly in so much pain but was trying so hard to keep it together. He quickly wrapped his arms around his wife and held her close, gently pulling her into his lap.

“Darling, don't apologize. It’s alright. You’re alright.” He gently stroked her hair again while he spoke, “I know you’re tired… I know you’re hurting. I’m here though, I’m not leaving you, my love”

“I’m so tired… of being sick… and in pain… I want this to be over.” She hiccuped slightly through her tears, leaning into John’s comforting embrace, her head on his chest.

It felt like a knife had hit his heart hearing his wife’s words. The pain and exhaustion she carried was so obvious in the way she spoke, “I know, love… I know.”

He pulled her even closer to his chest and continued to rub his wife’s hair in a comforting motion. He knew there wasn’t much else he could do to help, but he wanted to try and offer something, “Just get some sleep for now. darling.”

She nodded, her tears slowly trickling to a stop as she nuzzled her face into her husband’s neck. John wrapped one arm around her waist to help hold her upright while his other arm continued to gently run through her hair. He leaned his head down to press a kiss against her forehead.

“There we go love. That’s it, just go to sleep now. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here when you wake up.” He murmured, his low raspy voice gently pulling her back to sleep.

Her breathing was even and smooth and the look on her sleeping face was peaceful, knowing she felt safe in her husband’s big arms. John watched as her breathing evened out into a peaceful and calm rhythm and it made his heart feel lighter again. Seeing his wife so peaceful and safe in his arms made his heart feel so full of love and warm. He sat there for a few minutes more just absorbing the feeling of his wife in his lap, then he too dozed off.

When John woke up, it was late in the evening, nearly dinner time. His wife was still cuddled up against him, completely still and a bit cold. His eyes were met with the sight of his sleeping wife still snuggled up against him. He couldn’t help a small smile at the sweet sight, but the smile quickly dropped after realizing how cold she felt against him. He gently shook her shoulder in a panicked attempt to wake her up.

“Darling, wake up for me real quick, love.” She didn’t wake up. John didn’t feel her breathing either and she was very pale. “Love..?”

John felt his heart start to pick up speed when he didn’t get a response. He again shook his wife’s shoulder but there was still no response. Panic started to set in as he carefully put one hand on her neck to feel if there was a pulse. There was no pulse and her body was starting to stiffen. John felt his heart stop beating, but he refused to accept it. He pushed the thought from his mind and kept going through the steps in his head. He pressed his fingers a little under her chin to tilt her head back and his chest tightened.

“Come on love, breathe for me…” he desperately begged, his voice shaky.

Her head lulled slightly in his hand, her head tilted up towards him, and John saw that she looked at peace… she was safe and calm for the first time in weeks. She almost looked as peaceful as she did on their wedding night. But now his wife is dead… no longer in pain. Reality really began to sink in for Price when he saw how still her chest was, unmoving, not breathing. He felt like any breath he tried to take was being caught in his throat. His heart felt so heavy and he realized he was crying. Slowly, John pulled his sweet wife back against his chest, holding her tightly and securely and gently began stroking her hair again, just like he had been a couple hours ago.

It was then that he finally spoke again, his voice nearly silent and thick with emotion, “I’ll be here when you wake up…”

But she never would.

[maidragoste]

Sick

Aegon II Targaryen x Reader (Daughter of Rhaenyra)

Summary: Daeron is sick and neither you nor Aegon is taking it well.

This is part of the universe of the queen and her husbands but I think it can be read independently.

Thanks for all the support, it always makes me happy to answer your questions and comments. REBLOGS and likes are always appreciated 🥰🥰💕💕💕

Warnings: Infant Death, Angst.

Daeron groaned again in his sleep. Instantly Aegon dipped another handkerchief back into the water while you removed the one on the boy's forehead so that your husband could place the new handkerchief. The groans subsided making a small part of Aegon feel relieved but he would rather hear Daeron's groans than silence. Daenera had died quietly, without making a single sound.

"He'll be fine," you said in an attempt to reassure Aegon but also yourself. Neither of them had slept since Daeron got sick. Two days had already passed since the Master interrupted your chambers to inform you that his son had fallen asleep in the middle of his lessons and that when he wanted to wake him up he realized that he was flying with fever. Since then Aegon had not left Daeron's side while you only left the room to see how the rest of your children were and to make sure that Aemond had everything under control. "His fever is already going down," you announced as you stroked Daeron's face.

"I won't rest until he's fully healed," Aegon admitted. He knew it was a simple disease but still, he was afraid. Something could always happen. Life taught him that when he lost Jaehaerys, Maelor, and Daenera. The deaths of his children were sudden. He hadn't had the chance to say goodbye to them, he couldn't tell them that he loved them or be by his side during his last breath… At least now he could accompany Daeron. He hadn't been there for Jaehaerys or Maelor. If he had been there no one would have dared to touch them. Now he was with Daeron but he couldn't do anything because this time it wasn't about criminals or a violent servitude wanting to harm him but the enemy was a disease. He couldn't threaten or force the disease to leave his son's body. He felt helpless. It made him want to scream at the thought of another of his children dying and he again did nothing to help. He wasn't going to be able to take it. He couldn't go through this again.

Your hand brought him back to reality. He clung to your touch in an attempt to keep himself from dwelling on the possible death of another of his children.

"I know. I'm scared too” you said and kissed his knuckles “But he's not Daenera” you reminded him with a soft voice imagining where your husband's mind was going. “She is dead but Daeron is still alive. You have to stop mourning our son as if he were already dead" you asked, squeezing his hand "Daeron is strong, trust him"

Your words were like a slap to Aegon. I knew you were right. But he couldn't control his head. His mind tormented him with images of Daeron dying, with the silent sisters wrapping around his little body as they once did Jaehaerys and Daenera's, with you again standing before the pyre trying to gather strength to order your dragons to burn. the body of another of his sons…At least this time it wouldn't be a violent death. It wouldn't be like Jaehaerys and Maelor. He felt like vomiting when he remembered the body of his firstborn without his head, his discomfort increased at the memory of the murmurs of how little Maelor's mutilated body had been left. He had never seen it. He couldn't be at his funeral.

"Aegon" Now your hands were on his cheeks and you looked at him with pure concern. And he hates himself for doing this to you. You were already worried about Daeron, you didn't need any more worries. He had to be strong, he needed to be strong for you but he couldn't.” “You should sleep. You're just torturing yourself by staying awake. I'll call the maestre to give you something to help you sleep."

"No!" Aegon exclaimed and grabbed your wrists before you could get away from him "Please don't take me away from him" your heart broke at the despair in your husband's eyes "I need to be by his side. I can not leave it. What if the same thing happens as with Daenera?” He said with a broken voice.

Daenera Targaryen died while everyone was sleeping. You woke up in the middle of the morning to Daeron's cries asking to be fed, you were surprised not to hear a single moan from his twin because when one of the two cried it didn't take long for the other to join in the lamentations so you went to see her at her cradle. You started to scream when you realized that your daughter's small chest was not moving. Your husbands were not long in appearing at your side. The guards entered with raised swords ready to fight any threat only to find you weeping in Aemond's arms, who stood between you and Daenera's cradle to prevent you from seeing your dead daughter's body any further. As soon as he saw the guards, Aegon began to yell at them to bring all the maesters quickly, although you knew that it was already too late and that it would be useless. They confirmed what you already knew: that your baby was dead.

"It won't happen"

The moment you saw the tears running down your husband's cheeks you hugged him. The king hid his face in your neck and clung to you as he continued to cry, hating himself for being weak. He should be the one holding you, he should be your rock, he should be the one stroking your hair while he whispered soothing words to you. Not vice versa. He could see that you were trying to be strong for both of you but he noticed that your voice was getting more and more shaky and he wasn't surprised when he heard you sob. You had told him that you were also afraid and instead of calming you down, he only made everything worse. He was a terrible husband.

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[harrysmimi]

DO IT AGAIN!

Synopsis: A day life of a husband of 11 years; A shortie Blurb.

More of my work

Harry and YN have been together for 11 years, believe it or not, and married for six years out of them, with three kids.

They're as in love with one another as day one.

Many still root for them to break up one day. Especially since both of them are in public eye so much, Harry being the new pop star and YN being director and former actress.

YN have decided to rather to not let anything phase her and just be happy in her very happy relationship. Especially now with their three kiddos.

YN decided to make a Reels videos. She stayed away from Tiktok but Instagram is equally addicting. She had set up her phone on a tripod she once bought to use for her Vogue skin care routine video and it was abandoned since then. It was before the pandemic when she didn't had any kids. She was stood in the hallway by the master bedroom door, testing a few shots on her phone.

"Oh am I in your way?" Harry caught her attention, he'd come back from dropping the kids at YN's parents' as they both wanted to have alone time. The camera was already rolling.

"No!" She gasped in excitement. "Come here, I need you!"

"We're going to film it this time?" He raised his eye brow with a cocky smirk on his face as he padded closer to her, "and they said romance is dead."

"Oh shush!" She stopped him. "I'm making a Reel. I want you to do something."

"What do you want me to do?" He stood in front of her, basically towering her as how tall he is.

"I want you to do that romance book boyfriend thing, where he grabs the girl by the waist and lifts her chin with his finger." She beamed at him at like an idiot, excited idiot to be exact. She showed him how to, wrapping her own arm around his waist and failing to follow up with the rest of the part.

The thing is, YN have been now addicted to reading, Porn on paper kinda romance novels. It wasn't surprising for him as she'd keep sending him these videos saying, she's adding those to the her to be read pile. Let's be honest the girl is horrible at keeping up with the lists, so whatever helps her.

And Harry likes to feed into her mew obsessions, he bought her a Kindle just because. Whatever makes her happy, is his motto. And she don't have to wait for the book to arrive in the mail anymore.

"God why did I saw this coming?" He chuckled, but followed through.

He wrapped his left arm around her waist pulling her flush against his chest as he pinned her to the wall, forefinger under her chin as he gently lift her head until their eyes met, staring for a few seconds as he slowly pressed a feathery kiss on her mouth. That was cherry on tip!

That really made her go weak in her knees and she almost fell on her bum if it wasn't for him holding onto her. He laughed adoringly at her reaction.

"You're adorable!" He managed to say between his giggles as he carefully stepped away from her, watching her go all red and nervous.

"Do it again!" She exclaimed whilst dying sheepishly. And he did.

It was hilarious this time though because YN kept squealing and somehow turned more red. He still had that effect on her. Harry placed a tender kiss on her cheek before he was reaching to stop the recording on her phone and he was carrying her into their bedroom.

"Now I don't want you to wake up in the middle of the night to show me something your imaginary boyfriend did." He placed her on their bed as he kneed his way forward to hover over her.

Yeah, she wakes him up more than their kids wake him up at night. They're all boys and Mummy is their favourite, as traditionally cliche it sounds, it's truth.

And to her advantage he's better in bed that any of the book boyfriends. She missed it, especially when there are two toddler knocking on their door in the middle of the night asking to sleep in their bed, a baby who needs diaper change and milk every three hours. Life is hectic.

"Oh that's never going to stop." She challenged him.

"Yeah? Well the good thing we dropped off the kids at your parents' today, isn't it?" He smirked cheekily as he dipped his head down to smear his mouth on hers.

And oh boy, oh boy, did she had a euphorically tiring afternoon!

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N O T E:

Oh my god! Did I loved writing this!!!! 😭

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[cosmicawg]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐆𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬

Chapter 2: "THERE'S SOMETHING OUT THERE!"

word count —(.) 2,971

read time —(.) 10 mins : 48 secs

There was something foul in the air, something thick and oppressive that clung to the senses. Whatever it was, it fucking stank—like rancid meat left to rot under the punishing sun. And it only grew worse the closer Emery got to the motel. The main road was lined with the decaying carcasses of roadkill, as if some unspoken curse had swept through. The smell was unbearable, forcing her off the beaten path and into the woods—a touristy spot for poor souls who thought they’d find peace, but instead found themselves mauled by bears or lost forever. The crunch of dead leaves underfoot was the only sound, the only sign she was still moving, alive.

Above her, the sky hung heavy with gloom, dark clouds pressing down as if the very heavens had forgotten to exhale. They twisted and contorted like a frown etched across the horizon, promising rain—cold and unforgiving. But rain or no rain, it wasn’t going to stop her from karaoke tonight. Unfortunately, that meant Julius had to cover for her. She smirked at the thought. He’d understand. At least, he damn well better. The least he could do was let her have a little fun, considering what a shitstorm this place was.

The motel loomed ahead, its peeling paint and flickering neon sign a testament to neglect. As Emery stepped inside, the first thing that greeted her wasn’t the musty air or the flicker of a dying light bulb—it was Julius, face down on the front desk, passed out cold. She snorted. Typical.

"I wasn’t sure if I should wake him or not." The smooth voice, accent, slid into her ears like melted butter, catching her off guard. She turned toward the sound and found a guest sprawled out on one of the threadbare sofas, the springs creaking beneath him. "I’ll admit, he’s kinda adorable like this." He gave a sheepish grin, eyes flickering. "Oh, uh… sorry. Name’s Remi. I'm staying here."

"Yeah, no worries, Emery." she giggled, the absurdity of it all bubbling up. "I work here, unfortunately. But, uh… I wouldn’t get too comfy. Those sofas? Bedbugs." She shot him a wink as she made her way behind the front desk.

At that, Remi shot up like he’d been electrocuted, dusting himself off with a grimace. His nose crinkled in disgust. "Of course. What was I expecting? A five-star experience." He shook his head, still swatting at invisible bugs. "Anyway, is there seriously no Wi-Fi here? I’ve got an important call, and all of a sudden, the service is just dead."

Emery opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, a loud crash reverberated down the stairs, followed by the unmistakable sound of pure chaos.

"YOU ARE UNSERIOUS, ALEX!" Gloria, the fiery redhead guest, came storming down the stairs, her face twisted in rage. Behind her, Alex—her boyfriend, husband, whatever the hell he was—stumbled after her, looking equally flustered.

"Jesus Christ, Gloria, I wasn’t peeping at her, she's a teenager! Do you even hear yourself right now?" Alex barked, his voice tinged with desperation. "Do you always make shit up in your head like this?"

Their shouting echoed off the walls, amplifying the already suffocating tension in the room. Emery didn’t bother intervening; this had to be a normal thing between the two, it wasn’t worth her time.

As they went at it, another guest jogged down the stairs nothing but a sweatpants and a tank top. Bowie, if she recalled right, the blonde charmingly greeted everyone before likely heading out for an afternoon run. Jocks.

And yet! Another guest, Alia, came thundering down the stairs right after, her heavy footsteps shaking the old wooden banister. She was in a skimpy bathing suit, chewing gum with a disgusted sneer plastered on her face. She took one look around, her lips curling as if the very air offended her.

"Please tell me there's a pool at this dump," she spat, her eyes rolling.

Emery forced a smile through gritted teeth, rummaging through the drawers, cursing under her breath as she finally found the damn key. "Yeah, sure. Just go out the back, take a left, and you’ll find the gate." She tossed the key toward Alia, who caught it with a barely concealed look of disdain, her nostrils flaring in disgust.

"Do I look like I work here?" Alia snapped, as if the mere act of catching the key had insulted her dignity.

Before Emery could respond, the commotion had roused Julius from his uncomfortable slumber. He groaned, his hair a mess, dark circles heavy under his eyes, and a streak of drool shining on his cheek. He looked around in a daze before glancing at the clock. Noon. Shit. He should have been home hours ago.

He groaned louder, flinging a hand over his face. "I’m crashing in one of the guest rooms. I’m not dealing with any of this shit—not after last night."

Emery couldn’t help but roll her eyes as he stumbled away, leaving her alone to deal with the circus that was quickly unfolding.

"Uh, about the Wi-Fi?" Remi’s voice cut through the noise, a hint of frustration creeping in.

Emery sighed, massaging her temples, fighting the urge to scream. "Just… go into town," she muttered, the tension in her voice clear. "There’s gotta be Wi-Fi somewhere. Not here, though. Definitely not here."

And with that, she stepped out of the lobby, leaving the chaos behind—at least for a moment.

She guided a petulant Alia toward the pool, biting back the sharp retort bubbling on her tongue. The girl was already complaining, her voice grating and full of resentment. "This place is disgusting. I hate my father."

Emery's jaw clenched as she pushed the rusted gates open, forcing a smile to hide the rising irritation. “Ta-da! Your pool, Your Majesty,” she said with a mock bow, sarcasm dripping from every word.

Alia barely glanced at her, her eyes scanning the pool area with a look of pure disgust. The pool was far from the pristine, high-end resorts she was used to. The tiles were chipped, cracks spider-webbed across the edges, and old, deflated pool floaties lay scattered like forgotten toys. The sun loungers were stained and unkempt, the once-white fabric now a dull gray. Alia flinched, letting out a shriek when she saw something, dark and fast, dart across the pool deck—probably a rat.

"UGH!" Alia’s scream echoed, her frustration boiling over. "Next time, I should plan the vacation! My useless father can’t do anything right!" She kicked at the ground, a petulant grunt escaping her as she threw herself down by the water’s edge, her bare feet dangling into the pool. At least the water was clear, she noted with the barest flicker of relief. "While my mom is off in fucking Jamaica, I'm stuck here with a worthless parent."

With a huff, she clamped her oversized sunglasses onto her face, crossing her arms over her chest like a sulking child.

Emery's patience was wearing thin. She stared at Alia, inwardly seething. What a spoiled brat, she thought, resisting the urge to snap. Just as she turned to walk away, hoping for a moment of peace, Alia’s voice rang out again.

“Who's that?”

Emery let out a sigh, her annoyance palpable as she glanced at Alia, who was now pointing across the pool. With a resigned look, she followed Alia’s gesture, her eyes landing on a woman lounging in the distance. The woman was sunbathing—or at least pretending to. A glossy magazine obscured her face, while an obnoxiously large sun hat perched on her head, its wide brim angled just enough to cast a shadow over her entire figure.

Who the hell wears a sun hat when there’s barely any sun? Emery thought, squinting at the strange figure. The woman’s body was unnaturally still, her pale, almost ghostly skin gleaming under the overcast sky. She looked fragile, almost too slender, like she might disappear if the wind blew too hard.

“I don’t know,” muttered Emery, her tone indifferent.

“How do you not know? Don’t you work here?” Alia’s voice was filled with disbelief, as if Emery was personally responsible for knowing every single guest by name.

“I didn’t sign in guests last night, okay?” she snapped, her patience finally running dry. “Damn, you are so annoying. Just enjoy your swim.” With one last glance at the mysterious woman, Emery shook her head and walked off, leaving Alia to her sulking.

The workday dragged on, and the pool seemed even more decrepit under the cloudy sky. Emery busied herself with paperwork, her mind drifting now and then to the strange woman by the pool. Later, two other guests arrived at the front desk. Except this time, there was a hiccup—no room had been booked for them. Emery sighed, knowing the mountain of paperwork this would cause. Meanwhile, Julius, her co-worker, remained blissfully unaware of the chaos, dozing off somewhere like he always did.

LATER....

Nightfall crept in like a shadow, blending with the soft drizzle tapping against the windows, making the world outside blur with a melancholic haze. Inside one of the unoccupied guest rooms, Julius lay sprawled on a bed, his snoring heavy and unrelenting, the kind that shook the air like distant thunder. Drool pooled on the pillow beneath his face, a stain that no one would bother cleaning. Suddenly, he jerked awake, gasping like something cold had crawled through his dreams. His eyes shot open, wide and startled, as if he’d seen a ghost.

“Fuck… what time is it?” His voice was thick with sleep, and he rubbed at his face, groaning as he rolled over to glare at the window. The curtains were slightly ajar, revealing the deep darkness outside, the faint drizzle now pattering softly against the glass.

Did I really sleep here? God, I’m getting pathetic, he thought bitterly, pushing himself up from the bed. His head was foggy, and his limbs were stiff from sleeping in his clothes. Wiping the sleep from his face, he cursed under his breath and staggered toward the door. But as soon as he stepped out, he was face-to-face with a guest. Of course.

“Yes, may I help you?” Julius yawned, barely able to muster any enthusiasm.

The woman in front of him was short, with brunette hair that stuck up in every direction, her face contorted in panic. “Look, my friend and I checked in like around noon, and around three she went out, but she hasn’t come back yet!” Her voice trembled, fear thick in every word. “I tried calling the police, but there’s no service—no bars, nothing!”

Why couldn’t she go missing too? The cruel thought slithered into Julius’ mind before he could stop it, and he had to slap himself mentally. Get it together, he thought. “Sorry to hear that,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. “I just got off break, and, honestly, I’m not even supposed to be working right now, so…”

His voice trailed off, and he awkwardly rubbed his forearm, staring at the floor. "Get Emery to help. The girl up front," he mumbled, already turning to leave, hoping to escape the situation.

But the woman wasn’t letting him off that easy. She followed, her voice rising in frustration. “What girl? There’s no one at the front desk! Please, did you even hear what I said? My friend is missing!” She was practically screaming now, the words buzzing in his ear like an angry wasp.

Julius barely registered her panic, though, because as they reached the top of the stairs, he could already hear the commotion below. The lobby was filled with noise, voices clashing against each other in an aggressive symphony. He cocked a brow, turning back to the woman. “Did you say no one’s at the front desk?” His voice was skeptical as he stomped down the stairs, bracing himself for the chaos.

The moment he entered the lobby, he could feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating. Voices were raised, arguments flaring.

"Fuck’s sake, Gloria! Hang up the damn phone!" Alex screamed, his frustration sharp and biting.

"Why would I listen to you?! And the damn landline is down! Thanks so fucking much for this GREAT vacation, Alex!" A woman’s voice shot back, dripping with sarcasm and anger.

And that’s its own mess, Julius thought, his annoyance growing as he tried to wade through the chaos.

He was immediately bombarded from all sides. In his left ear, old man Chester was complaining about a rancid smell in his room, his voice hoarse and furious. Meanwhile, a young girl, Violet, tugged at his sleeve, her wide eyes filled with worry as she begged to know when her father would arrive. On his right side, a father-daughter duo was screaming about the state of their rooms, their voices blending into a cacophony of complaints.

Through it all, there was no sign of Emery.

Julius felt his blood pressure rising. He squeezed behind the desk, his breath caught in his throat, his patience hanging by a thread. Finally, he snapped, his voice booming through the lobby like a thunderclap.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, ALL OF YOU!”

For a brief, glorious second, the room fell silent. Every face turned toward him, their mouths hanging open in shock. But it didn’t last. That firecrotch—Gloria—was the first to break the silence, her hands on her hips, her eyes burning with anger.

"Why the fuck is the landline down? I’d like to make a phone call!" she spat, her voice venomous.

“Yeah, my dad isn’t here, and I’m getting worried… the service is down, and…” Violet muttered, tugging anxiously at her black hair.

"And that smell!" Chester growled, his face turning red. "I’m damn near suffocating in my room. Fix it."

The room was on the verge of erupting into chaos again when Julius held up his hand, commanding their attention. His glare was cold, cutting through the noise like a blade.

“Where is the girl that’s supposed to be here?” he demanded, his patience worn thin.

Before anyone could answer, the woman from earlier—the one looking for her friend—spoke up again, her voice tight with anxiety. “She went out to the karaoke bar around the time my friend left and hasn’t come back.”

Julius pinched the bridge of his nose, frustration clawing at him. “When exactly was this?” He glanced at the clock. 6 PM.

“I don’t know… around 3 PM?”

Julius' eyes widened in shock. Three hours? His heart skipped a beat. Where the hell is Emery?

A low rumble of thunder cracked through the sky, ripping the night open with a violent roar. The ceiling lights flickered, casting the room into momentary darkness. Everyone flinched. The arguments that had been simmering reignited, but now in hushed, anxious tones, like they were afraid the storm itself might hear them. Julius stood frozen, his eyes scanning the room as the tension thickened like fog. His hand instinctively reached into his pocket for his phone. No bars. His breath caught in his throat. Shit.

Okay, he thought, swallowing the rising panic. Emery's fine. She's grown. She can handle herself.

He forced himself to take a deep breath, his mind racing, trying to keep the flood of anxious thoughts at bay. Turning back to the restless crowd, his usual sneer stretched across his face, but it felt hollow. "Look," he began, his voice more strained than he'd like, "I hear you guys, but what the hell am I supposed to do exactly?" His sarcasm was biting, but it was a flimsy mask for the dread crawling up his spine.

Chester, red-faced and puffed up with indignation, spat back at him, "Do your damn job! Is this how you people run an establishment?"

Julius shot him a cold glare, unmoved. Before he could retort, Wallace, a stiff man in a tailored suit, stepped forward, adjusting his tie with exaggerated calm. "I’d like to speak with the manager, if that’s alright," he said, his voice smooth but laced with impatience.

Julius clenched his jaw, suppressing the urge to tell them all to shove it. "He isn’t here. I’m in charge while he’s on vacation," he growled through gritted teeth. His frown deepened as he glared at Wallace. "You’ve got a problem with your room, right? Guess what, big daddy, you booked this place. So deal with it."

The room collectively gasped. A shocked silence fell, thick with disbelief.

Without missing a beat, Julius whirled toward Gloria, who stood with her arms crossed, her glare cutting through the tension like a knife. "And the landline? Yeah, it’s not working because my cheap-ass boss cut it off before leaving. Doesn’t want to pay the damn bills," he snapped, his irritation flaring.

The woman from earlier—the one who’d been asking about her missing friend—opened her mouth to speak again, but Julius cut her off before she could even get a word out. His voice, thick with frustration, cracked through the air like a whip. “Shut up about your friend! This is a small town! Nothing ever happens here—"

His words were sliced clean by a deafening crash, WHAM, at the front doors. The room exploded with screams as the guests scattered, their panic palpable, and the world seemed to tilt sideways. Julius felt his heart slam into his ribs, his breath stolen as he spun around toward the entrance.

Standing there, drenched in rain and blood, was Emery, clutching her side, her face twisted in agony. Blood soaked through her clothes, dripping onto the floor as she stumbled forward, carried by Remi, his wide eyes wild with terror. Julius’ stomach plummeted, cold dread crawling over his skin.

"Emery!" Julius choked out, his voice barely a whisper, his feet rooted to the ground in shock.

Remi’s frantic voice cut through the chaos, words tumbling out in a terrified rush. “There's—there’s something out there!” His voice cracked, his wide eyes locking onto Julius, pleading for understanding. "Something… it… it attacked us!"

The room erupted again, the guests shouting in fear, complete nonsense. Julius couldn’t move, couldn’t think. His eyes were glued to Emery, her bloodied form swaying as she gasped for breath, her face a mask of pain.

Something had followed them. Something that wasn’t supposed to exist in their quiet, forgotten little town. And it was still out there.

[ficbrish]

Oh shit it was WIP Wednesday yesterday

[22Jun2023]

This is from a new Fallout 4 fSole Survivor/MacCready wip (because I'm replaying this game and I'm trash). My Sole Survivor is named Renée Kilburn. Here she is:

It'll either be a one-shot or a multi-chapter story that starts after the Kellog memories mission and goes through the Vault 81 quest.

"Vault 111"

[[TW/CW: Grief, dead bodies, blood mention]]

“And this…” Renée said, gesturing to one of the pods, "is Nate.”

“Holy shit,” surprise slipped out of his mouth with a faint puff from the chill, “Is that your dead husband?!”

Something about the sudden wave of shock let those thoughts out loud without his permission. MacCready really should have been prepared for this. He knew what this vault was, knew what it kept inside. He’d seen the cold, dead stares of her neighbors as they passed them, and the open pod she’d emerged from. He should have been able to guess what was across from it.

Still… it was another thing to be brought face-to-face with the corpse you essentially cucked.

Not that it was like that. He never once saw being with Renée as cheating on Lucy.

But… still…

“Yep. It’s Nate!”

The expression on her face was wrong and her voice shook.

“Uh…” he struggled to find the words.

“It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Renée was not fine.

She didn’t explain much on the way over here. Just said, “I need to get a gun,” in a voice with less life than usual.

Then she took off towards the bridge. He followed her.

They didn’t speak on the way over, or up the hill. He tried to ask a question when they reached the peak and the seal, but she interrupted his attempt.

“Stand here and look there.”

He did.

“That’s where I watched the bombs fall. The blast passed right over our heads. Made my hair move.”

MacCready could feel the tight heat against his face. It must have felt like opening an oven too quickly. He didn’t ask her about it though.

The seal began to move down. The creaking steel sounded like shrieks of the dying. Hell, maybe they were! The ghosts of her neighborhood screaming their existence from their frozen graves.

The elevator platform shook as it hit the ground with a clanging thud.

The whole place reeked of fetid rainwater. Thankfully the bodies were on ice, or else the stench would be a lot worse.

They got the gun first, an experimental freeze ray like you’d see in comics.

“Said I’d come back for you,” she’d muttered as the lock fell.

It never unnerved him like this when she talked to things that weren’t people.

MacCready thought they were finally going to head back up after that, but she took him down a different hallway once they were back at the entrance.

“This is where they took us,” was all she said.

MacCready knew what was coming. Saw the pods. Met their stares.

But he still wasn’t prepared for the ice frosting Nate’s sleeping face. Or the popsicle blood on his chest.

“Hey, I’m really sorry,” he said, “We don’t have to be here if you don’t want to… I… I’ll leave you alone.”

Renée just shook her head. So he stayed.

MacCready looked at the man’s face directly. Maybe it was better, easier, that he never had to wake up and meet this new world.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated.

He didn’t know whether he said it to her or to Nate. Probably both.

Yeah, both.

He reached out and took her hand.

The longer they stood there, the more jealous he felt. Renée had a body to visit, one that would stay preserved in its tomb. He had nothing left of Lucy.

“We should probably,” Renée suggested, “Before he thaws...”

“Right.”

He let go of her hand so she could press the button. She touched the glass once his pod sealed, a lover’s final touch.

He never got that with Lucy. He was glad Renée was able to do it, but it was conflicted by jealous yearning. Renée had memories before the war, and a body to mourn. She had a proper childhood and parents. So many things just out of his reach fell into her hands.

He swallowed the bitter feelings, trying to focus on the part of him that was glad at least someone was able to mourn properly.

Renée stood there looking through the glass until he suggested their exit. She followed him out without saying another word.

“It’s changed,” she commented as they reached the surface and looked out over the hill at the Sanctuary she rebuilt. The new houses stood among the old ruins.

“You made it better,” he assured her.

Followed by my notes:

"[smut] [grief smut] [two widows smut] [two widows who just visited the body of her husband in a freezer smut]"

[rodolfoparras]

Leni is so very precious and ofc there is some angst💔 her bio dad died when she was very very young, bio mom started drinking a bunch to try drowning her sorrows about her husband dying.

Unfortunately she stopped really caring for Leni🙁 eventually the mom dies, Leni at first doesn't understand her mama is gone and she rushes out to find someone to help wake her mama up😭

(sloppy writing for Price and Leni because girl dad Price🙁❤)

Price is down by a small river after a mission, camp is just behind him, he's washing all the dirt and grime off. Suddenly a little fawn girl is standing beside him, holding a bunny plush in her arms, brown eyes staring at him with a mix of fear and curiosity. Fawns typically keep to themselves so Leni has never really seen a human before, it was scary but she found the man interesting

She watches him for a few moments, head tilting to the side, like when a puppy doesn't understand something. Price simply stares back at her with a soft smile, reaching over and ruffling her hair a little, which causes her to pout. "what are you doing out here, kid? Are you on your own?" Price was a little worried about her, she seems so young and he can't see any adults with her.

Leni is in the middle of fixing her hair when Price asks his question, her deer ears twitching a few times before suddenly perking up. "Mama is sick... You can help, yes?" She didn't give him much time to reply, grabbing his wrist and attempting to drag him towards her home. Price follows along, worried about the kid and her mother, he may not be a doctor but he could possibly help.

"Mama been asleep awhile... She won't wake up no matter what. She must be very sick..." Hearing Leni's words made Price momentarily freeze, realizing that her mother was most definitely dead and Leni just didn't understand.

"kid...I don't think I can wake your mama up" he said in a soft tone, kneeling down to her level and gently resting a hand on her little shoulder. Leni stared up at him with tearful eyes, lip quivering slightly as she struggled to speak. "no... Mama has to wake up... I... She..." A part of Leni knew her mother was gone but she really didn't want to accept it.

Price gently pulled the crying girl in his arms, trying to offer what little support he could. Price couldn't find the words to say so he stayed silent. As Leni's sobs died down, he gently pulled back to look at her, his heart aching as he saw her tear soaked face and eyes all puffy and red. "Do you have anyone else you can live with, kid?"

Leni shook her head no as she wiped her runny nose with her dress sleeve. "Papa left awhile too... Don't have anyone but Bun Bun..." She gestured to the plush held tightly in her arms

Price thought things over for a moment, coming to a decision. He couldn't leave her on her own so for now, he'll take her back to base with the taskforce. She'll be safe there until he can figure out a better solution. "alright, you're gonna stay wirh me for a bit, how's that sound kid?"

Leni was hesitant, she really didn't know this man but... She didn't have anyone else either and he was pretty nice. "mm okay... I'm Leni, by the way" she held out her little hand for him to shake. Price smiled, gently taking her small hand in his rough one, shaking it slightly. "I'm John Price"

Idk if it's that good but I haven't like fully written in awhile hhh I mostly do rp 😭

-🌱

The way this had me tearing up” don’t have anyone else but bun bun” 😭 the way I’d give her the stars and the moon to make her feel less lonely in that moment please 😭 but I absolutely love prices fatherly instincts and how he didn’t hesitate to help a kid in need even though he doesn’t really know what to do in the moment :(

But also price growing more comfortable in his parental role as time passes and being the one who understands leni the most and who knows all her likes and dislikes how to calm her down what to do when she isn’t up for having lunch and so on and so forth 🥹

[fragmcntedsouls]

Everything else simply ceased to exist, as it did so often when they were within each others company. The world was calm and still and everything that mattered was right here; right within reach. “Always for you” she hummed, her voice having softened as her eyes remained upon his features and amusement aside, she truly would marry him every day if it was an option. The warmth of his laughter ran through her veins, making her stomach flutter as she revelled within the sound. The sound that she had vowed to chase for the rest of her life – to be the cause of. Nothing brought her deeper comfort than him as his fingers continued to caress the exposed skin. Each touch gentle, inviting as she leaned into him; silently urging for more. There was a moment of apprehension as her eyes studied his and her proposal was made and whilst she knew that it would never seem that way to him, she didn’t want for his family to think that she was taking him from them as already some did. The compound was his home and it had become hers too – but home would forever be where her husband was and she understood that more so than ever, after having been apart. Relief soon flooded her expression as his response came with certainty and her hand lifted to run against his cheek, before teasing through the side of his hair as a giggle left her lips, “doing whatever we want at the breakfast table is a sure selling point, huh? – I should have really led with that."

His unamused expression only coaxed louder laughter from her, before shaking her head and grinning at him as his own amusement prevailed. “Oh babe, you’re definitely onto something, I mean he didn’t exactly exude intelligence” she teased, “probably flunked out the second that he realised college wasn’t just one big spring break.” Billie’s smile only widened, both hands falling to rest against his chest as her head tilted and she mused curiously, “i’ve been meaning to ask, what did take you so long to kiss me?” Before lifting up onto her toes to place a playful kiss against his lips. As the taunt was returned, her eyes rolled, albeit out of amusement as she attempted to suppress her own smile, “i’ve got eyes. I saw pretty little blonde bitches turning heads whenever you walked in.” The slugs were working a little too well at this point and Billie mustered a breath to steady herself, before her merriment rapidly returned and she quipped, “nah — you never met."

The memory had stuck with her as if it was only yesterday and she could feel a breath threatening to hitch in the back of her throat as emotion weighed heavily in her tone, “I don’t think i’d ever really known fear before – waking up and thinking you were gone. Then you came back and you just looked at me and I knew the man you were; even at sixteen. I knew your heart.” Her chest ached as he spoke of being undeserving and she would argue against that until her dying breath, “you have always been deserving, baby. I was made for you. I would have always found you, just as you were always supposed to find me. In every universe, I’m yours." A gentle sigh left her lips, as she shook her head. "I was never scared – not of your abilities, or of your wolf. None of it ever scared me, Briggs – because I know your heart. From that first moment, I knew that I was safe with you and that you would always take care with me. You’re so good; your heart, your soul, everything about you and i’ll remind you of that every day. You’re special, my love. I want you to see yourself through my eyes. I know you.” 

A subtle crease formed against her brow as she witnessed his features contort and her heart practically twisted in her chest as her pulse became unsteady, “I know, I know we did – but we have that now. We have all the time. In this life, in the next. You couldn’t stay, your moms, they needed you just as I did that night we met. You were their gift too.” A hand lifted from his chest to rest against the nape of his neck, guiding him back to her; grounding him. “Baby, please – losing you? I wouldn’t have survived that.” It wasn’t fair, none of this part of their past was fair, but the past was all that it was to them now. “I’m sorry, i’m so sorry for not going with you. For never seeing my room.” Despite her efforts to remain composed, a tremble became caught in her throat, leaning into the kiss against her temple as she nodded, “we have our entire future ahead of us. You and me. That’s all that matters now.” 

No matter how heavy a situation might feel, together they could always work their way back to being them. Laughter and sincere joy reigning over everything else. Her arms tightened around his shoulders, digits balling into the material of the front of his shirt as she held on as instructed. “I love you” she replied imminently, leaning closer as she whispered into his ear, “my husband.” 

As the assessment of the Ferris wheel was made, Billie did find herself holding on tighter as honestly? it really did look a little terrifying from this perspective, but she wasn’t afraid, not even for a second. “One big adventure, baby. I have complete faith” and she did, she truly did. With each check in, there was a full nod, even if he couldn’t see the action, “still here” she teased before tossing in a promise for good measure, “and holdin’ on tight” and a giggle eased from her lips as she peaked over her shoulder, as the people on the ground became smaller and further away, "ohhhh your mom's would totally kill us if they could see this."

Peace. That's everything he felt in this moment with her, that's what she inspired in him better than anybody. The carnival faded into white noise, and all he could truly hear was her: her breath, her voice, her heartbeat. Her beautiful, strong heartbeat. "Every day sounds good to me, you free later?" His laugh was warm, easy as his fingers caressed her skin, voice softening as he sincerely replied, "it was the best day of mine too. I have no regrets, it was everything I wanted marrying you to be." He watched her, the wheels turning in her mind, and as always, he couldn't wait to hear what she'd say. It wasn't unexpected, one of those things that had sort of been hanging there, though he hadn't really given it much thought. He had once been unsure of the compound, wanting more than anything to go home to her. To resist everything Keelin and Freya were trying to give him. Now, it was strange to consider leaving, but as she said it aloud, his answer elicited no hesitation, "yes. Let's look for a place." His gaze held hers, a smile gracing his lips. "I love being at the compound with my family, that's true, but you're my wife. My home. I want a place that's ours...and maybe where we can do whatever we want at the breakfast table."

Her quip had him giving her an 'I'm unamused' look, even as he fought valiantly and poorly against a smile. "I hope he flunked out," he mumbled under his breath, almost sounding sixteen again. "Or is happy or whatever. Smarmy little pricks like him are usually successful." She did coax a laugh from him at her teasing. "It's a miracle I didn't get to kiss you back then, huh? If I looked so good." Shrugging innocently, he made a playful face at her comment. "I mean, I think the distraction that offered may have paid for a meal or two," he took his turn to tease her, "and you did look real good jealous too." As she wiggled her fingers against his sides, he squirmed, fidgeting away from the action as he pulled her closer instead. "Really? Did I know him?"

The moment fell into a stillness, a peaceful one. "Where else would I have gone?" He asked softly, "you are the most important person in the whole world. I was exactly where I wanted to be, where I always wanted to be. Coming back was never a question, even when I knew I'd never deserve you, even when I wasn't sure if I could control my powers, if I ever would. I knew I couldn't hurt you. Anything that is me cannot hurt you." Maybe that was unrealistic, the gala shown as much. It made no sense, and what he should have done was keep his distance, but one look at her, he knew where he would come back as long as she'd allow. "Baby, it's so easy to see you. I took one look at you, and I could see you."

Features briefly contorting in a pained expression, one he battled against, as the memories came back in vivid color. "We lost so much time," he breathed out, shaking his head back at her. "I didn't. I could have stayed with you. I'd have been fine. They're my family now, but I wouldn't have known any different." He hated hearing the words as much as she hated saying them, though they were not foreign either. It was the only thing that kept him there some days, knowing she'd send him right back. "I know, but if I was there--I'd have never let them take you. They'd have had to kill me first. So no, I didn't do everything I was supposed to." Her gentle plea to not live there snapped him out of the memories, wrapping his arms tighter around her, pressing a soft kiss against her temple. "I'd rather live right here."

As she climbed onto his back and held to him, he glanced back and memorized her gleeful expression for a moment. "I love you, wife," he promised again, holding firmly to her legs as he bolted in the direction of the Ferris Wheel.

When they were finally before it, he looked up, briefly planning his strategy to get up it. "This looks a lot taller when we're this close. Hold on tight." Grabbing one of the bars, he hoisted them up onto the ride while it was still loading and not yet moving. Navigating the climb, he paused every few feet to check in, "you good, baby?"

[phoeebsbuffay]

Imagine Padmé and Anakin have a rather happy ending. She gives birth to their twins and her beloved husband does not go into the dark side.

Warnings: none; it’s all fluffy. It’s also a short fic; alternative universe as usual because there’s not gonna be Vader and I’ve been trying to write an Anidala fic for a while, but inspiration has always left me when I needed it. Not sure if it’s good enough for the Anidalas out there but…

***

“Do you trust me, Ani?” She asks Anakin. Taking a seat next to him, Padmé is rubbing her husband’s shoulders, trying to find the best way to comfort him.

He’s running his hands over his hair, face bathed in tears. When looking at her, Anakin could see a genuine concern in her features. But it’s not enough to ease the pain theses dreams have been plaguing him. He’s reminded of his mother, how he failed to save her. There surely must be a way to save Padmé, to prevent her from dying in birth.

“I do, my love. But it’s not as simple as that. It’s…” his voice dies out. “I am scared to lose you.”

“This is a thought that haunts me sometimes as well.” She tells him, planting soft kisses in his shoulder, ever so warm. The gaze she casts on her husband is full of love. Padmé searches out for his hand, intertwining their fingers. “But I don’t let this fear to cloud my trust in you, knowing you’ll come back safe and sound to my arms. Do you think it’s easy for me to watch you go? It’s not, Ani.”

There’s more she would like to tell him: the lonely nights she misses his warm, tanned skin; to sleep so protectively in his chest. In truth, she’s as attached to him as he is to her.

When searching for his eyes, Padmé is anxious to see solace in them. She does not wish to see high tide in these irises that are colored like the sea, the perfect mirror to a cloudless blue sky. She does not wish to be drowned in a tempest even her heart battles her reason in doing so: Padmé would do all that is in her power to rescue Anakin from the unknown waters that might take him away from her like a boat that floats away from her.

Anakin then turns his gaze at her, seeing through the composed mask in her face. The unspeakable intensity, the grip into the love she holds onto for him. He gently caresses her cheek, observing how she leans into it and how her eyes always tell more than words could.

“I trust in you.” Anakin softens. “You are much more reasonable than I. But you don’t understand, Padmé. I would do anything that is in my power to prevent you… Padmé!” He interrupts himself when watching her painful expression. “Padmé! By the Maker! What’s going on?”

“I think our child is coming earlier than planned…” She gasps, surprised. “Ani, please, take me to the hospital.”

“But…” Anakin is paled and terrified by the perspective he’d lose her. Fear does tend to petrify even the most reasonable of the people.

“Anakin! We don’t have time to discuss it!” Padmé exclaims, giving him a wake up call.

Anakin nods. He swallows hard and decides to take the risk even though there’s a voice in the back of his mind accusing him of responsibility if she does not survive the labor.

Perhaps guessing his thoughts by reading the paleness in his face, Padmé takes his hand and gives him a painful look.

“Promise me you’re staying with me. Promise me you will not leave my side, Anakin.”

She needs to know. She needs the reassurance. The Senator watches her beloved knight with deep concern as if in her heart there’s a bad feeling trying to make a nest right over it.

“I…” Whatever is in his thought, it dies in the moment she pledges him tenderly, as fearful as he is. They are about to live a long time planned moment—in some ways, anyway—and yet both are emerged in fear. It’s not supposed to be this way. “Of course. When did I ever leave you, my love? I will be with you, all right?”

It feels as if every cloud ceases to rumble, as if every announced tempest is dissipated, as if light brightens the skies. It’s almost as if the high tide has finally left… going back to where it is. Padmé cries, as a result.

“My love”, Anakin’s voice goes a tone higher than planned. “I’m trying to pilot as fast I can. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. These are tears of joy, that is all.” She smiles at him. “I love you, Ani.”

Anakin’s heart is light again.

“Good grief, woman. Your hormones never cease to scare the shit out me.”

She playfully slapped his arm.

“Oh shush, Anakin.”

Where there was fear and panic, there is love and laughter. There’s darkness no more. It is what it is.

And to prove that, as he holds her hand throughout the process, the children are delivered healthily. Both mothers and the twins are doing just fine.

“Twins!” Anakin chuckles nervously, eyeing Padmé relived but also slightly tense. “Twins! Two babies! Not one!”

Though tired as she is, Padmé is happy nonetheless. She laughs at his reaction.

“We are double blessed.” Padmé smiles at him. “We are having a big family, won’t we?”

Anakin raises an eyebrow.

“Quiet your hormones please.” He chuckles as he teases her.

He then holds his princess first. Both Anakin and Padmé agree to name her Leia. She has his eyes. When looking down at her, Anakin is emotional.

“I was right all along.” Anakin tells in an embargoed voice. “Hello there, daddy’s little girl. Welcome to this world. Daddy will always love you.”

Padmé blinks away the tears in her eyes when seeing such a scene right before her. A memory that will always be in her mind: when the man she loves is holding their baby in his arms.

As for her, though, she is holding her boy in his arms.

“I was right too. My maternal instinct told me a boy is on his way. Welcome, my prince. My boy. Luke.” She presses a kiss on top of his temple.

Anakin looks at Padmé holding their son in her arms as he holds little Leia in his, and a happy tears rolls down his cheek. His fears had never proved so wrong. His children prevented his fall to darkness after all.

***

Epilogue.

Padmé is terrified by how Anakin actually allows Luke to pilot this fast.

“Are you out of your mind?! He’s only nine, Anakin!”

Luke, to her dismay, is chuckling as he lands the ship. His eyes are full of joy as his father laughs heartily, ruffling his hair.

“He’s so good at it, Padmé! You should see! Tell your mother, my son, how great skilled you are!” Anakin beams proudly.

“It’s true mama!” Luke runs to Padmé all the while Leia runs to her dad.

She heavily sighs, forced to acknowledge he has much of his father’s skills. Oh dear Maker.

“I’m glad to hear, Luke. But you are a boy, you can’t go out piloting this fast. It’s too dangerous. Besides, you have homework. Come now, young man. Your sister has already done hers.”

“Ugh, fine.”

Padmé laughs quietly, holding his hand as they walk inside.

“You can tell me all about it later, okay?” She is pleased when he beams at her.

In the meanwhile, Leia is now sitting over her father’s shoulders even though she’s not a little girl anymore. Anakin laughs as she giggles happily when he plays with her, before putting her on the ground because, Maker, his back is not the same as it used to be.

“Daddy!” Leia pouts. “One more time, please!”

“Your dad is getting old, Leia.” Anakin laughs loud. He could hear Obi-Wan’s teasings about it. “I still need my back, you know. What do you want to play now?”

As he plays with his daughter and Padmé studies with Luke, another day goes by. When they are finally asleep, Anakin takes Padmé outside their home where stars shine and there’s no Empire because thankfully the Chancellor’s ill doings were stopped and he was arrested for good. Senator Organa was elected in his place and the wars finally end.

So here they are, enjoying the peace they deserve.

“I can’t believe how far we’ve come.” Padmé tells her husband, looking at him with love. “Our children are growing so fast.”

“I think we should lock them inside the house, eh?” Anakin teases her.

She laughs.

“We can’t do that, Anakin. We have to deal with that, you know well.”

Anakin looks deep inside her eyes, lifting her chin whilst he brushes his lips against hers.

“I think we are prepared to grow our family, don’t you think?”

A mischievous smirk twists in the corner of his lips. Padmé blushes, specially because he knows.

“About that…”

Anakin chuckles when resting his hand in her belly.

“I know. Finally! The more the merrier!”

She giggles softly. Her hands are now placed around his neck.

“I love you, Ani.”

“And I, you, my darling wife.”

She does not need to wait further. Anakin kisses her and that is how they end the night together.

[rocorambles]

Reciprocate

Pairing: Akaashi x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, NSFW, Mafia AU, Kidnapping, Rape/Non-Con, Forced Impregnation, Objectification, Degradation, Humiliation

Summary: You should have known better than to think you could ever truly escape from him, especially when you carry something he treasures so dearly inside of you. 

You reminisce on the early days when you had met the beautiful dark-haired man, when you had been swept off your feet by striking blue eyes and a serene composure. 

Akaashi had never been just normal to you and you remember how he had made your head spin with the air of mystery he carried around him, how your heart whipped back and forth between the always surprising mixture of sharp blunt words and eloquent poetry he entrapped you with. He was a man full of surprises, truly multi-faceted and you remember watching in awe at how quickly he could go from easily and agilely maneuvering his toned athletic body in the gym to lazily reading classic literature with a hand posessively but gently wrapped around your waist as you curled up besides him on the couch. 

There are many words you could have used to describe Akaashi. But dangerous? Dangerous was not one of them. 

Funny how quickly things can change. 

Even as careful as Akaashi is, even he can’t foresee unexpected circumstances, especially when you are more entangled in the webs of his life than he ever meant for you to be. And he is forced to reveal who he truly is to you or kill you when you get caught up in things and with people who shouldn’t have ever even known you existed. 

You wouldn’t be the first woman he’s killed and his mind flickers to numerous dead bodies, corpses of prostitutes and other unfortunate women strewn about when things became too complicated, when they threatened his position and the safety of his clan. But he can’t bring himself to pull the trigger, can’t even bring himself to think about aiming at you. 

You’re not like the other fleeting distractions and for the first time ever, Akaashi Keiji breaks Fukurodani policies by revealing everything to you in the hopes that you’ll accept him as everything he is, that you’ll join him for the long run. 

Blue eyes storm over when you don’t look at him with the love and acceptance he expected of you, only fear and disappointment apparent in your eyes, and his hands instinctively clench into fists when you flinch away from him, scrambling to create space between the two of you when he reaches out to reassure you that underneath the terrifying family name and insignia, he’s still just him. 

Fine. You’re scared? He’ll give you something to actually be scared of.

His fingers dig deeper than necessary as they roughly drag and shove you, movements harsh and rough enough to make a very clear point, but never enough to permanently mark you. He likes his possessions as pristine as possible after all. And he smiles at how quick you are to go limp in his arms, obediently letting yourself be led when Akaashi’s silky voice patronizingly tells you what a shame it would be for your beautiful body to be decorated with bullet holes. 

You know who Boktuo Koutarou is, even if you’ve never physically met him. Everyone in your city knows who he is, his name whispered and murmured in the streets, tales of his erratic temperament and ruthless wildness spread far and wide. The Fukurodani clan has always been a powerhouse in the underground world, has always controlled your city with an iron fist, and Bokuto, even by Fukurodani standards, has more than risen to the challenge of continuing his family’s undeniable reign, garnering respect and fear even among the monsters that share his insignia. So even though you’ve never met him, you know exactly who you’re shoved to your knees in front of, who Akaashi reverently speaks to and asks for permission from to keep you at the base as his pet, and you don’t dare open your mouth or raise your head, absolute terror paralyzing you. 

Gold eyes peer at you in interest. Whores aren’t uncommon in the base, lewd moans and slick sounds sometimes making the base seem more like a brothel than the home of illicit dangerous business and Bokuto has always encouraged and rewarded his men with the best cunts money can buy especially after particularly successful or tiresome raids. But for as long as he’s known Akaashi, he can count the number of times the younger man has partaken in those base pleasures on just his fingers and even then, they’ve always been one night stands, brief flings. So he’s surprised, to say the least, when the dark haired man asks to keep you around as his little toy and he has a gut feeling that you’ll become a permanent extension of the family, but how can he deny the man who’s resolutely stayed by his side all these years, who’s pledged his life and loyalty to him? Akaashi asks for so little and if all he wants is for Bokuto to provide protection and surveillance for one more body to be happy, then so be it.     

You’re no stranger to sharing a bed with Akaashi, but this is different. You had always thought that he had been holding back with you, swearing that you saw a hint of something darker gleaming behind blue orbs only for it to dissolve away as you were swept away by sensual languid pleasure and gentle, attentive words. And you hate that you were right, voice going hoarse as you scream at the top of your lungs as you’re ruthlessly taken over and over again, a coldness in the eyes you had once loved that pierces deep within you, animalistic possessiveness in the way he marks you, long slender fingers leaving bruises in their wake as he holds your writhing body in place as he thrusts in and out of your abused lower lips. 

Day in, day out. All you know is a fitful sumber that exhaustion forces you into and Akaashi. His scent, his touch, his voice. You’re drowning in his essence. Dying. No. That would be preferable. At least there would be an end. And you silently grieve, unable to even cry real tears anymore when you wonder when this will ever end, if this will ever end. 

As much as Akaashi would love to permanently lay beside you, duty and appearances do call from time to time and he reclines across from Bokuto, watching the black and white haired man boisterously chat with Kuroo Tetsurou, the current head of Nekoma as scantily clad women surround the two men, dragging fingernails down their chests and shamelessly shoving their breasts into their faces in the hopes of gaining their favor. They sure do seem to be enjoying themselves and Akaashi grimaces when one of the prostitutes begins to loudly moan as she grinds against his leader’s swelling erection which doesn’t go unnoticed by sharp eyes. 

“Akaashi, don’t be so uptight. Why don’t I send some of them to your room tonight to help you loosen up?”

Bokuto knowingly smiles in amusement when he’s promptly rejected. 

“Ah, that’s right. You still have your cute pet. But you know Akaashi, pets are temporary. Don’t you think it’s time to make it a little more permanent? Maybe put a ring on it? Hell, I love kids. I wouldn’t mind having a few runts running around the base, especially if they’re yours.” 

Their conversation is interrupted by a rude scoff and Bokuto snarls at Kuroo’s taunting words. 

“Because God knows Bokuto isn’t having kids anytime soon. No woman could stand bearing his kids and listening to his loudmouth for the rest of her life.”

Akaashi tunes out their bickering as the gears in his mind churn. 

He had kept you on your birth control pills, not wanting to disturb his time with you as he broke you in and figured out exactly what his plan for you is. He knows he loves you, knows there’s no life for him without you. But he wasn’t a dreamer. He’s fully aware just how dangerous his life is, how impossible it is for the both of you to be able to grow old together, how much more likely it’ll be that both of you end up dead side by side in a turf war gone wrong. Yet now all he can think of is what you’d be like as a mother, how you’d look pregnant with his children and when your pills run low, he tears your prescription to shreds in front of your eyes. 

You have more fight left in you than he thought you would and he’s enraged by how much you despise the thought of carrying his children, every desperate plea for him to not cum inside of you while you’re unprotected, a direct insult to him and his love for you. All he sees is red as he breeds you over and over again, stuffing you full of his cock and his seed, never stopping until you’re filled to the brim with the sticky proof of his adoration, stomach heavy and sloshing with his declared affection. 

Turbulent emotions ransack you and you wish you could blame it solely on the hormones raging throughout your impregnated body, but you know it’s deeper than that. It had been so easy to become numb to being used, being known as nothing more than Akaashi’s pretty pet, being the victim of a cold, ruthless stranger you realize now that you never really knew. But it’s agonizing to once again see the hints of the man you had fallen in love with and your heart aches at how gentle and considerate Akaashi is to you once more as your belly begins to swell, a comforting hand rubbing your back and holding your hair away from your face as morning sickness has you heaving over the toilet bowl. And you feel something break and shatter into a million pieces inside of you when one night, as your due date quickly approaches, he kneels in front of you, slipping the engagement ring of your dreams onto your trembling hand. 

“I know this isn’t how you dreamed of any of this happening, but I promise you, once the child is born, I’m going to give you the wedding you always wanted and do my best to be the husband and father you deserve and want. I love you.”

You sob, tightly returning Akaashi’s embrace, burying your face in his chest, wishing with all your heart that things could have been different, that you could go back to those early days, that everything in between was a dream, a nightmare. 

But this is reality and as you cradle your baby bump, you know that you need to do something, anything, now that it’s not just your life on the line anymore. 

For the first time in a long time, it seems like fortune is finally on your side as Akaashi relinquishes his leash on you, trusting that your growing bump will permanently tie you to him, that you won’t even think of trying to escape in your current state. And you play your role perfectly, smiling and leaning into his careful touches, accepting the gifts and attention he lavishes you with, looking to all the world like an excited expecting mother perfectly matched with her doting fiance. 

Akaashi resumes taking up longer projects and jobs, no longer seeing a need to keep as careful of a watch over you or a need to remind you of your place besides him every night. And seeing one of their higher-ups relax makes everyone else careless, no one paying you much attention, no more armed men outside your door and windows when Akaashi is away. 

Really, it’s embarrassingly easy for you to escape, so easy that you wonder if this is a trap, almost expecting Akaashi to appear from around every corner and drag you back to the prison he had created for you, and you shudder when you can almost feel his hands against your skin, his voice murmuring cruel cutting words into your ear. 

But no one stops you and you slowly, but steadily make the long journey to Inarizaki territory, discreetly settling in and making a new home for yourself, starting a new life. Inarizaki and Fukurodani have never dealt much with each other, their territories so far apart that it’s pointless to clash or ally with each other when there are so many other enemies and friends closer to both their homes to deal with. You pray that it’s enough to hide you, to allow you to leave your wretched past behind. 

It seems like your prayers are answered as month after month passes, as your belly grows and grows, as you give birth to a beautiful baby girl. You can barely remember a life outside of motherhood, your heart overwhelmingly full of love and happiness as you watch your daughter grow. And as you watch her take her first few wobbly steps as her first birthday passes, you let yourself finally believe that you can really move on and look forward, locking the blue-eyed demon of your past behind you once and for all. 

Except that demon doesn’t want to be locked up, that demon is far too strong and cunning for your flimsy padlock, and you clutch your daughter to your chest when your door slams open one night and your apartment is swarmed by men with the Fukurodani insignia, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes when one last final figure makes their way past your threshold and you stare into familiar blue eyes. 

As if your daughter can sense your anxiety, your fear, your hopelessness, she begins to loudly wail and bawl, wrapping her little arms around your neck and drenching your neck and shirt with her tears and snot, reminding you just how much is at stake right now. 

You do your best to fake some semblance of calmness, drawing on your maternal instincts to still the quivering of your voice as you gently whisper soothing words in her ear, telling her everything will be fine, telling her that these are just mommy’s old friends, all the while watching your ex-lover gracefully make his way towards the two of you, subtly shielding her little body with yours as he approaches. 

Realistically you know there’s not much you can do if he does mean harm to her, but you’d gladly die defending her to the best of your abilities if it came down to it, already ready to beg for her to be spared and for just you to be punished for your transgressions and your betrayal. You finch when you feel his weight settle besides you on the bed as he sits on the edge of the mattress, heart pounding as you feel his familiar presence, and you quickly turn to face him, only to be completely stunned by the softness in his eyes as he gazes at your daughter. 

Relief floods through you and you hesitantly shift, allowing him easier access to see her, something bittersweet trickling inside of you as long slender fingers gently reach out to caress tear-stained cheeks, as your daughter’s sobs die down and curious eyes peer at the stranger who’s touching her. And deep inside you know Akaashi won’t harm her, will fiercely love her, as he tugs her out of your arms and pulls her into his lap, a sad smile pulling on your lips as you watch father and daughter reunite. 

Deep inside you also know that you won’t be as lucky and your fears are confirmed when Akaashi stands, still cradling your giggling daughter in his arms, blue eyes pinning you down with a look you recognize all too well. There’ll be hell to pay for your actions. 

You feel nauseous, body already aching and throbbing in anticipation of your punishment. But you plaster on a smile for your daughter as she happily plays with one of her favorite toys in the backseat of the car between Akaashi and you, peppering her tiny face with kisses as Akaashi and you tuck her into the gorgeous nursery he’s prepared for her, and wishing her good night as Akaashi leads you back out, continuously waving until the nursery door is firmly closed. And only then does your act drop and you sob as a hand harshly grips your wrist, tears only flooding down more as you recognize the hallway you’re being dragged down, body shaking when you’re shoved into a room and a bed you had tried so hard to forget. 

Clothes are being torn from your body and you thrash around as lips descend upon you, a mouth hungrily molding with yours, yelping when teeth harshly bite on your lower lip before pulling apart. You feel so exposed, so helpless, so vulnerable as icy blue eyes glare down at you, Akaashi’s body pinning you in place as he takes in your figure, scrutinizing every line and curve of your body, mapping every familiarity and difference from the last time he’s seen you. But you lay still, wincing when his grip on your wrist becomes bone crushing when you try to instinctively cover yourself from him. 

“I trusted you. I love you. And this is how you repay me? Running away from me? Keeping my daughter away from me?” 

You open your mouth to stutter out some feeble excuse, but gasp when a hand wraps around your neck, warningly tightening before relaxing. The weight of his palm still against your throat keeps you silent. 

“There’s no excuse for what you did. But I promised you that I’d be a good husband, so I’ll forgive you if you show me how sorry you are.”

You nervously watch as he completely lets go of you, eyes trailing after him as he settles his back against the headboard of the bed, beckoning you over to him with a single finger. And you can’t help but feel like foolish prey walking into a trap as you obey, body quivering in fear as he pulls you in and positions you so that your legs straddle his thighs, back arching and a cry slipping past your lips as he teasingly captures one of your nipples in his mouth and sucks. 

“Still so sensitive.” 

You hate how well he’s trained your body, how easily your body betrays you even after being separated from him for over a year, how well he knows every inch of you inside and out and shame and humiliation lance through you when a long digit easily slides into your already dripping heat. 

“I think you’re more than ready, darling.”

Even past your wanton moans, the clanging metal of his belt unbuckling echoes throughout the room and you whimper as something hard presses against your entrance. 

“Come on, love. It’s time for you to apologize. Do you know how much effort and time I spent searching for you?”

You yelp as the hands resting on your waist dig into your flesh before relaxing and rubbing soothing circles into your skin. 

“But it’s okay because you’re here now, you and our daughter are here now, and neither of you are ever leaving me again. Right?”

You vigorously nod your head as blue eyes sharply stare at you, relaxing when they soften and a small smile plays on his lips. 

“Good girl. Now prove it to me.” 

You almost wish Akaashi had just forced himself upon you, finding it so much more demeaning to sink down on his cock all by yourself as he impassively sits back and watches you. But you’re sure that’s the whole point of this, for you to show your submission and acceptance through your actions. After all, nothing he ever does is meaningless. 

And you truly do feel broken, like nothing more than a good wife, a good pet as you wildly shake your hips, bouncing up and down on his cock in a way that makes your breasts jiggle, pussy clenching even tighter and gushing even more when he orders you to look him in the eyes all the while. 

“You’re making me feel so good, sweetheart. You’re so beautiful. You were made for my cock, made for me. Tell me who you belong to.”

In hindsight you’ll be embarrassed by how quick you are to babble his name over and over again in response. But here and now? All you can think about is the warmth in your chest as he praises you, the warmth in your belly as something pleasant and overwhelming builds inside of you. And Akaashi groans at how tightly you squeeze around him as your peak nears, almost cumming from just the hazed over arousal in your lust-filled eyes, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss and swallowing your cries of ecstasy as you reach your high, body convulsing and twitching in his arms as he holds you steady, lips still locked with yours as he thrusts up a few more times before finding his own release and spilling deep inside of you. 

You slump onto him, exhausted body collapsing and still twitching from the onslaught of pleasure. But as the fog from your mind begins to ebb away, you involuntarily tense at the whispered “I love you” that sounds like nails scraping against a chalkboard, hesitating too long to respond in kind. And you know you’ve made a huge mistake when blue eyes are coldly regarding you once more, shivering from both the cold and fear as he pulls back from you before shoving you onto your back and settling between your legs.

“Looks like you need a little more encouragement to reciprocate my feelings. That’s okay. We have all the time in the world for me to show you just how much I love you.”

[scuttle-buttle]

WC: 2261

Rated: M

Tags: angst, medical issues, pregnancy complications, hurt/comfort, anxiety, brief mentions of medical procedures but no gore, nothing is technically sad, fluff, papa laszloooo

A/N: honestly tho I am sorry. also i maybe cried a little writing this, which is a first. also also everybody is fine in this it's just emotional

Blame @hardlyinteresting

🧠

"Three weeks…. Three weeks little bean…" you mumble as you rub your protruding stomach after a particularly harsh kick to your ribs. The chair was a sweet relief to your ankles after a long day at work and doing some light chores around the house all afternoon. You had three weeks until you hit 39 weeks into your pregnancy. As much as you were anxious you were ready. Ready to not feel like a bloated whale. Ready to not have sore feet. But most of all, ready to hold your baby girl.

Laszlo had been trying to convince you to take it easy and start maternity leave early, but you resisted. The last thing you were about to do is nothing. Most first pregnancies went late anyway, you'd argued, so you didn't worry about it yet. I’m pregnant, not dying - give me another week, you'd told him.

What you didn't tell him was about the headaches. Or how sore your legs were. Or how absolutely exhausted you'd been feeling the last couple weeks. Whenever he would ask if you were alright or offer a foot rub you would just brush it off as third trimester woes. You didn't want to worry him.

You were sat in an armchair in the parlor, feet propped up, damp rag over your eyes. The droning from the tv had your nerves on edge. All you wanted to do was take some tylenol and feel better, but you had been knocking back more than was probably safe the last few days so you went without.

A sudden pain shoots through you causing the rag to fall onto your chest. “Ohh...ow? OW!” You sit up straighter as the ache persists; the dull throbbing in your upper abdomen unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. Were you in labor early? Did she just kick in a bad spot? No no - surely the pain would’ve died down by now had that been the case. Unless? Can babies kick so hard they rupture something? Did my kid just bust my liver? Your thoughts run rampant as you wait, in vain, for the pain to go away. The pricking behind your eyes and in your temples only made it more hellish. Pressing your palm to the spot does nothing, nor do the breathing exercises you had been taught.

When five minutes have passed by without relief you make the choice to call out for your husband. “Laz?” No response. “Laszlo!” A beat passes; nothing. You swallow through your building nausea.

“I swear to fucking-” you growl as you snatch your phone from the end table to your left. You use all your concentration to dial his number.

It rings four times.

“Bärchen, why are you call-”

You don’t let him finish. “Something’s wrong.”

______

Head thrown back into the flat, starchy hospital pillow you groan in frustration. “permanent bedrest?” You scrub the hand not clutching your belly down your face.

The emergency room Obstetrician gives you a pitying look. “I’m afraid so - your blood pressure is high and we want to keep it under control to prevent outcomes such as pre-eclampsia. I recommend doing as little as absolutely possible; get rid of as many stressors as you can.” He flips through your chart. “You said you’ve been having headaches and fatigue for nearly two weeks? Why didn’t you come in sooner?”

Huffing, you tell him “I thought it was just part of the third trimester. Everyone always complains about how bad it is.” He hums in response.

“Well. I’m going to go take a final look at your labs, make sure everything else is fine before we discharge you. I’ll send in my Nurse Practitioner to give you the run down and anything else you’ll need to know. And should anything else like this happen again - get in here immediately.” He pats you awkwardly on the hand before nodding at Laszlo and leaving the room.

Laszlo.

Sparing a glance from the corner of your eye you see him looking towards his lap, his weaker hand cradled in the other. He’d been quiet since you admitted when your symptoms had first begun. Every single time he’d asked you how you were feeling you had lied to him. Granted, you didn’t technically know you were lying. But it makes little difference when you’re sitting in the ER. He had every reason to be upset.

“Laszlo honey,” you reach over to him. Slowly he takes your proferred hand and stands, coming to stop beside the bulky bed frame. His thumb caresses your wrist.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve examined the signs, kept a better eye on you.”

“Laz-”

“-No-”

“-I didn’t want to worry you, okay?-” Your voice breaks as you defend yourself.

“-I could’ve done something, maybe- I don't know!” His slightly raised voice startles you quiet. The pain in his eyes only makes you feel guiltier. He licks his lips. “I took the liberty of calling your mother. She will be here tomorrow afternoon and will be staying in the guest room as long as we need her.”

Now you look away, indignant. “I don’t need to be watched like I’m a child.” The tears behind your eyelids rush in; a lone drop trailing down your cheek as the embarrassment settles within your gut. You knew that at some point it was likely you would need her here. However you imagined it to be under happier circumstances. A deep inhale fails to calm your sobs. “I just- I don’t want to be a burden with all this.” Your tears flow freely now.

“My dear you could never be.” Laszlo sits on the edge of the bed. He rests his right palm above the swell of your child, his left cupping along the curve of your jaw. He tilts you to face him. “But the health of you and our girl is what is most crucial now. Let us take care of you. Please.”

A gentle kick underneath his palm from your daughter is answer enough.

__________

Two weeks. 14 days.

Lying in bed, sitting in the same spot for hours on end was actually going to be the death of you. You were sure of it.

Your mother truly has been a huge help since arriving. Laszlo wanted to start his paternity leave, but you insisted that he stay until you were closer to your due date. Which couldn’t come fast enough, you might add. Both Laszlo and your mother were prone to pestering you about some things, but at other times if you truly wanted to be alone they gave you your space. Now was one of those times. Laptop to your side, you watch another episode of Grey’s Anatomy. A knock sounds. You turn to see your husband standing in the doorway, the blood pressure monitor in arm.

He gives you a bright smile. “How are you two on this fine afternoon?”

“Cut it with the attitude, bucko. Let’s get this over with.” The words, while harsh, had little bite to them. His brow raises but he says nothing. You honestly felt bad that you’d been in a pretty foul mood since being discharged. On more than one occasion you’d said as much to Laszlo and your mother - they didn’t deserve your ire. Thankfully they understood why you were so frustrated.

You held the strap in place as he secured the velcro and started the machine. Buzzing filled the overall quiet room. Closed eyes you wait. Some days your results were higher than others. Unless you became higher than a certain threshold the doctor said you were safe to be home. At the sound of a beep Laszlo unhooks the cuff, reporting that your levels are within the acceptable range. When he goes to leave you alone you clutch at his sleeve. He waits as you peer up at him. “Stay?”

He never could say no to you.

______

Little bean’s ruthless treatment of your bladder had you up for the second time that night. You waddled to the bathroom to attend to your business and wash your hands. Glancing at the circles under your eyes in the mirror you sigh. “I love you baby bean but you’re giving me a run for my money here, kid,” you whisper as you rub your stomach. Three days, you remind yourself.

The floor creaks as you shuffle back to bed. Suddenly, an odd warm trickling sensation travels down your legs. “What the fuck?” Looking down around your bulging bump you find yourself standing in a small puddle, the glint of the bathroom night light reflecting off the surface. “Shit okay…ah Laszlo? Hey, I need you to wake up.”

He grumbles. With a roll of your eyes you walk over and shake him awake. “Hey- what-” he sits up instantly and blinks at you. “Is everything alright?”

“My water broke.”

He hops into action right away. Moving you to sit on the bed, he pulls out his cell phone to call your doctor. As he talks you watch him move around the room, the phone wedged between his ear and shoulder, as he collects your hospital supplies. You feel useless as you sit. Yet, you know that your priority needs to be keeping yourself calm and that moving around could exacerbate your condition.

He hangs up. Coming to stand in front of you he presses a kiss to your forehead; “I’ll go wake your mother. Don’t move, Liebling.”

As you sit you blow out a long breath. You look down at your bump. “Guess you decided you’re ready to go, huh kid?” The tip of your fingers brush along the side of your stomach. “I know we’re ready for you too. We’re going to love you so much, and your daddy? He’s gonna be the best, you’ll see.” Placing your palms flat she nudges you from within.

_____

The doctors decided that a c-section was the safest route. You both knew it was a possibility, but you had hoped that after weeks of bedrest that your blood pressure would balance out enough for a natural delivery. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. They monitored you for an hour before your contractions began, officially confirming you were in fact in active labor and dilating. After the fourth hour your blood pressure began to spike again. That’s when they decided to prep you for the procedure.

The operation went smoothly. The atmosphere of the surgical suite was tense with your nerves, but Laszlo’s calming words and his hand squeezing yours kept the anxiety from spilling over. You even found it in you to poke fun at how ridiculous he looked in the puffy blue elastic hair cap he wore.

When the first cries rang out you nearly tried to hop off the table to see your baby. The doctors worked quickly to ensure you were in proper condition while the infant was cleaned.

“Dad? Would you like to come and cut the cord?” one of the nurses calls out.

Laszlo looks back at them before turning to face you. He searches your eyes for a moment; “go,” you nod with a smile. You watch as he did what the nurses instructed as best you could, her soft wails echoing in the small room. He returns to you right after while they finish wrapping her up in a blanket.

“She’s beautiful my dear,” your professor confesses. He leans to give you a lingering kiss. “I’m so unbelievably proud of you.”

“I love you so much.”

“As I love you.”

The doctor interrupts your moment. “Would you like to hold your baby girl?” The question is directed at you, but you look over to your husband. The man you love more than life itself. He stares at the little bundle as if she’s the most incredible sight he’s ever laid eyes on. He can’t take his gaze off her. His irises sparkle with unshed tears as he looks on with wonder.

“Laz?” Finally he breaks away. “Hold your little girl - she’s been waiting to meet her Papa.”

Carefully the doctor shifts his hold on the babe to slide her into Laszlo’s waiting arm. He swallows as he pulls her to his chest. Something caught between a sob and a laugh leaves him. You blink through your own tears at the sight of your husband and daughter, a sight so far beyond perfect there could be no words. Laszlo held her with such delicacy, such reverence. It was as if any moment she could slip away as though a dream.

“Hello there my little dove, I’ve been waiting a very long time to meet you.” He doesn’t bother to wipe away the streams that fall from his eyes. “I’m your Papa and I-” he sniffs, looking towards the ceiling and blinking rapidly to clear his eyes. You rest your hand on his bicep. “I love you so very much. I would give you the world if I could. Your grandfather didn’t...he was not....” he pauses to gather himself. “To me you are the greatest gift I could ever receive. I will be the best father I can for you. A father worthy of you. Mein Gott, Ich liebe dich my darling dove.”

He continued to hold her in his arms until it was time to take you into the recovery room. When he had asked if you wanted her you simply shook your head. You would get your chance, you had a lifetime to do so. But your Laszlo needed this. He needed his little dove.

Tag list

@hardlyinteresting @lorna-d-m @livvyshmiv @somethingthatsaysbubbles @greeneyedblondie44 @unbeatablecurlgirl @apparrio @marchingicenotes7 @anteroom-of-death @bruhidaniel @lemairepstuff @thehuiabird @zemosimp05 @alindeluce @iamnotthecatladynextdoor @laura-naruto-fan1998 @trelaney @boneheadduluc @i-am-dead-inside-666 @fictionlandslanddreams @that-one-fandom-kid @hb8301 @fandom-princess-forevermore @foggycandywitch @creme-bruhlee @andy-rocks @nonamec0s @everythingbeginsineternity-blog @uncomfortablebagel @rachelicouss @wisia02

[parkerslatte]

Don't Leave Me

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: major injury. blood. mentions of gunshot wounds. typos

Word Count: 2k

Summary: Y/N gets shot in her apartment and she barely gets to the phone in time to call Spencer.

MASTERLIST

***

Y/N relaxed into her couch and pulled her knees up to her chest. She had just gotten home from work. The team had a long case so all Y/N was looking forward to do was sitting back and watching television for the next week she had off (curtesy of Hotch).

As she flicked through the channels deciding on what to watch, she heard a knock at her apartment door. Her eyebrows furrowed, the time was 1am so she was confused as to why someone was knocking on her door at this hour.

Most likely going against her better judgement - Y/N headed over to her door and looked through the peephole. There stood a figure in dark clothing. They looked around them as if expecting someone or something to come out and grab them.

The person knocked again, this time more frantically, "Please let me in. There's someone trying to get me, he's been following me for ages." It was a woman.

The pleading tone in the womans voice was enough for YN to open her door and let the person in. The woman rushed in and Y/N shut the door behind her.

"Are you okay? Do I need to call someone?" Y/N questioned, folding her arms across her chest.

"No, no its fine. Can I stay here for a bit? Just until I know he's gone for sure." The woman asked.

Y/N nodded, "What's your name?"

The woman hesitated for a second, but Y/N being slightly tired, didn't notice it, "Laura."

"Well Laura, do you want a drink or something?" Y/N asked.

"I'm fine thank you." Laura replied.

Y/N nodded before heading over to her kitchen and getting a glass of water for herself, "So how long are you planning on staying here Laura? I'm not rushing you to leave or anything, it's just so I don't accidentally fall asleep while you're here."

"Oh, not long. Not long at all." Laura replied, looking around Y/N's living area.

"So who was this man chasing you?" Y/N questioned, re-entering the living area with her glass of water.

"There wasn't anyone chasing me." Laura said.

"But you said there was a man chasing you?" Y/N questioned.

"No, there wasn't." Laura stated.

Y/N began to suddenly feel uneasy in the woman's presence, "Okay, Laura I'm going to very kindly ask you to leave-"

A gunshot went off causing Y/N to drop her glass. It shattered on the floor. Y/N looked down and saw a patch of red spreading on her abdomen. She clutched at it before she fell to the floor.

Laura stepped over Y/N, "You don't remember me do you? Well you should. You're the one who locked my husband up for life. That was you" Laura screamed in her face.

Y/N still laced on the floor, clutching her gunshot wound. She tried to get words out but nothing came out except splutters. The shards from her broken glass dug into her back.

Laura sighed pitifully, "Poor little Agent L/N, no one can save you now." Laura raised her gun again and shot Y/N in the shoulder before standing up and turned to leave her apartment.

Y/N wanted to scream out in pain but she couldn't. It felt as if her vocal chords had been cut. The gunshot should have alerted Y/N's neighbours but she knew that Lindley who lived down the hall from her was visiting her parents and sweet old Mr. Whittle wouldn't of been able to hear it without the help of his hearing aids.

Y/N was alone. She was going to die alone.

Her head fell to the side and in her blurry vision, she saw her phone laying on the floor, it had fallen off the couch. She was not that far away from it but eveytime she moved her body it felt like it was on fire.

Y/N had two options - not try to get the phone and bleed out or try to get the phone and have a chance of someone saving her (that's if they hot there in time).

Building up as much strength she could muster, Y/N began to move her arm to reach for her phone. As she did so, she let out a painful scream. She had felt pain before but nothing this unbearable.

She tried one, two, three more times, each time she did so - the faster she was losing consciousness and blood. On her final attempt, Y/N managed to grab the phone.

She unlocked it and pressed a number in her contacts. She wasn’t sure who it was as her vision was beginning to go as she began to loose consciousness faster.

The phone rang and Y/N prayed that whoever she called would be local and they would pick up. The phone rang three times before a voice on the other end answered.

"Hello?" It was Spencer.

"Spencer," Y/N sounded out of breath, "Help." Y/N lost consciousness.

***

Spencer, who was confused as to why Y/N was calling him so late, picked up the phone, "Hello?"

"Spencer," Spencer immediately filled with worry, her voice sounded strained and breathless, like she was fighting for air, "Help."

"Y/N what happened?" There was no answer, "Y/N!" No answer.

Spencer paced around worried out of his mind. Something bad had happened. Something really bad.

Spencer immediately left his apartment and headed to Y/N's. On the way there he called the others telling them that something had happened to Y/N and to meet him at her apartment.

There were barely any cars on the road. Spencer drove as fast as he possibly could (even breaking the legal limit at times) to get to Y/N as quick as possible. If something bad had happened to her, he didn’t know why he would do.

Once he got to her apartment block, he raced up to the second floor and found her apartment door wide open. He approached it with caution, regretting not bringing his gun. Once he got to the door, he peered inside. His blood ran cold. Y/N was laying on the floor in a pool if her own blood, two bullet wounds on her body.

Spencer rushed over to Y/N. Luckily she was still breathing. He applied pressure to both of her wounds. Y/N awoke with a shock. She began to breath heavily - the adrenaline gone from her body. The pain was unbearable.

She looked at the person above her, "Spencer?" Almost immediately, Y/N began to loose consciousness again.

"No, no, Y/N, stay with me, okay? Stay with me!" Spencer said, adding more pressure to her wounds.

Y/N just closed her eyes again, falling unconscious. Spencer began to panic once he noticed that she had stopped breathing.

"No, Y/N stay with me! You're not going to die, okay? I'm not going to let you. Stay with me!" Spencer pleaded.

Seconds after Spencer said that, the rest of the BAU came into Y/N's apartment. They all looked around for a moment before their eyes landed on Y/N and Spencer on the floor - Spencer’s hands and clothes covered in Y/N's blood.

"Oh my god." JJ said before calling an ambulance.

"She's- she's stopped breathing." Spencer said, hand still covering her wounds.

"The ambulance should be here in a minute, luckily she doesn't live too far away from the hospital." JJ announced.

A couple of minutes a later, the ambulance showed up in front of Y/N apartment. They took Y/N's body and rushed her to the hospital. Spencer tried to go in the ambulance with her but since he wasn't family - he couldn't.

"Reid," Hotch said calmly, although inside he was filled to the brim with worry, "What happened here?"

"I- I don't know. Y/N called me saying she needed help so I came here and she-" Spencer couldn't finish the rest of his sentence before a strangled cry came out.

He looked down at his hands, they were stained red with blood - her blood. Frantically he began to wipe them in his trousers.

"I need- I need to get to the hospital. I can't- I can't stand here and do nothing." Spencer said and went to rush out of Y/N's apartment until a gentle hand stopped him.

"Spence, you should go home and get changed. Y/N will be in surgery, there's not much you can do for her right now." JJ said, trying to calm Spencer down. She knew how Spencer felt about Y/N so she knew what he would be feeling at this very moment.

Spencer went to argue but then slowly nodded his head agreeing with JJ. He left without another word.

***

Y/N felt like her entire body was on fire when she woke up. At first she was confused as to where she was. Then it was if a dam broke and everything came rushing back to her. Laura shot her. She bled out. Spencer helped her. She stopped breathing. The journey to the hospital. Everything.

Y/N moved her head and looked down slightly to look at her body. Her shoulder had been patched up and she could only guess the same with the wound on her stomach.

"You are a very lucky woman, Ms. L/N," The doctor said as she walked in, "The bullets just missed your vital organs by barely a millimeter."

"How long have I been out?" Y/N asked, her voice hoarse.

"Just over a day," her doctor answered, "And this one hasn't left your side since. You have a good one there Ms. L/N." Her doctor gave her an smile before leaving the room.

Y/N looked over in at the chair next yo her bed and saw Spencer sleeping, his hand clutched in Y/N's. She smiled at him.

Y/N squeezed his hand lightly to try and wake him. Spencer instantly, Y/N could tell that he was sleeping lightly.

"Hey," Spencer said, "You're awake."

Y/N smiled, "Looks as if you are now too," Y/N said, "Have you been here the entire time?"

Spencer nodded, "I wanted to be here when you woke up. I didn’t want you waking up with no one here - although I had to lie and say I was your fiancee for them to allow me to stay. That's okay isn't it?"

"Perfectly okay," Y/N responded, squeezing his hand, "And thank you Spencer."

"What for?"

"Answering your phone. If you didn't I'm sure I would be dead right now."

"I would answer my phone for you anytime Y/N. No matter the reason, I would answer," Spencer replied, "And there is no reason to thank me. I didn’t do anything."

"You saved my life." Y/N said.

"No, the doctors did that, all I did-"

"Spencer, I wouldn't have made it to the doctors if it wasn't for you. Thank you." Y/N said.

"I'm just glad you're okay. I don't know what I would do without you. Just the thought of you dying, I couldn't live without you." Spencer confessed, holding onto Y/N's hand a little tighter.

Y/N smiled, "Come over here." Spencer, pulled his chair a little closer to Y/N. "A little closer." Spencer pulled his chair even closer.

Y/N reached up to his face, cupping it in her hand. Her thumb ran lightly over his cheekbone, "You, Spencer Reid, are perfect."

Spencer didn't have a chance to reply to her before she pulled him into a kiss. He didn’t know what to do at first. The woman he had loved for two years was kissing him. Spencer kissed back and placed his hands either side of Y/N's face, deepening the kiss. Y/N sighed happily into it and Spencer could feel her smile.

"Woah, what is going on in here?" Derek said, a smirk evident on his face.

Y/N and Spencer immediately jumped apart as the rest of the BAU team came in carrying get well soon balloons and small little presents. A deep blush made its way across both of their faces.

"It took a near death experience for the two to finally admit they liked each other." Derek teased.

A small smile spread across Y/N's face as she looked at Spencer. The man she had loved for two years like her back and the kiss the two shared was unlike anything she had experienced before. Even if she had nearly died, Y/N couldn’t think of a more perfect moment.

[multific]

New Start

Hvitserk Ragnarsson x Reader

Summary: After months of tolerating Margrethe’s way of speaking with you, you had enough. And since no one ever stood up to help you, not even the man you loved, you took matters into your own hands.

They say, when you are dying your mind starts shutting down, bit by bit, so it wouldn’t remember death. To spare itself from the suffering.

Your mind started to shut down the moment the icy lake shattered beneath you.

And now, you were going to die with so many regrets. 

What started off as an enjoyable dinner, turned into disaster.

Margrethe loved to mention the fact that your boyfriend used to bed her, making you jealous and angry.

It started off with remarks that she made everyday and whenever she felt fit. You were the smarter one, thinking she would stop if you don’t reply or ignore her, but you were wrong. It only encouraged her. Since then, she saw you as weak. 

Although the men never said anything in regards, letting the women deal with their own problems, however you did ask Hvitserk multiple times to help you and make her stop. Talk to her or her husband.

But Hvitserk didn’t want to, he said the same as Ubbe, women should take care of their own problems.

So, you were alone in this. Left in a corner to deal with Margrethe alone.

Listening to her every time she saw you, talk about how your man used to be with her, what they did, where and how.

Your blood was boiling every single day. 

Until that dinner.

That dinner was the last straw when you saw her legs reaching for Hvitserk’s. That was all you needed to finally explode. 

You kind of blacked out for the majority. 

You remember screaming, yelling and plates being thrown. You remember circling the table and grabbing her hair and fighting her. You remember Ubbe trying to pull you away from his wife as you screamed at her. After all, she was a wife, how dare she look at any other than her husband? 

You remember Ivar’s smile as he enjoyed the show his dinner came with and you remember as Hvitserk pulled you out of the home.

“What are you doing, Y/N? She is the wife of my brother!” he said as he stood in front of you his back to the house.

“She has no right to talk to me like that, a whore like her! I asked you, begged you to help me, stop her, but no, you said women needed to deal with their problems alone, so I did! I tried talking to her, ignoring her, anything to make her stop Hvitserk, but she just wouldn’t. She thinks I’m a joke and says to the others that our relationship is a joke and I had enough!”

“You still can’t do that, you have no right to attack her!”

“I have every fucking right to attack her! Especially when I’m the one she is talking about!”

Hvitserk and you just looked at each other, your eyes filled with tears as you knew he won’t take your side.

“Do you even care about me?” you asked. “All I am is just someone who cleans your home and opens her legs for you, right? I try, so much, to talk with you. I told you about my past, my life, my fears, but you just don’t care do you? You love her.” the last sentence came out as a whisper as you turned and walked away, into the woods.

You were sobbing, your vision blurry from the tears as you walked further and further in. The fact that Hvitserk didn’t even care to follow you, hurt even more.

Perhaps you should leave, let him be. He didn’t seem to be so happy with you anyway. He was always stoic, barely smiled or laughed and he didn’t like to talk. you could tell he didn’t even listen when you were talking. Maybe he was thinking about other women. But why have you around then? Maybe he just found it to be coincidental to have you around. And now he thanked the Gods that you finally left.

You only stopped walking when a sound caught your attention. This was when you realized that you were on a lake, a frozen lake, and the ice couldn’t support you.

The last thing you remember is cold.

The darkness absorbed you as you started to sink and drown. You did try to find a way out, but you couldn’t.

This is when your mind started to shut off.

Maybe it was the oxygen it needed. You weren’t sure.

Your mind filled with memories. From your childhood to Hvitserk. You remember the most the times you spent with him. You remembered the first time you met, kissed and laughed.

Who were you trying to fool? You loved him.

Even on the edge of dying all you could think were his eyes, those eyes that captured you. The eyes that met yours as you woke up next to him. The warmth you felt as he held you close.

There.

You were the happiest there.

During the morning, in his arms, as the sun was shining brightly. 

You loved him.

But he didn’t love you.

This is when you lost consciousness. 

***

You didn’t expect to wake up, but you did.

In a very familiar bed, covered in furs. You were alone, you sat up and looked around. 

“Valhalla looks just like...” you said, still not fully realizing that you were in fact till alive. The moment you realized that you weren’t dead was when you took a deep breath and you realized that everything hurt. Every breath, every move of your arm hurt.  You could tell that it was late evening as the sudden coldness hit your skin. 

You heard a noise and as you looked up your eyes met with Hvitserk’s. Yours filled with tears. Tears of embarrassment, tears of fear. All the emotions came right back. 

He soon moved and hugged you close to his chest. You wrapped your arms around his middle as he caressed your back.

“I thought you were...I do care about you, Y/N.” is what he whispered to you and as you pulled back to look into his eyes, you knew he wasn’t lying. “I don’t know how to show you my feelings for you. I love you, and believe me when I say that it was the most hurtful thing when I had to watch you suffer because of her, because of my past.”

“Then why didn’t you say something?” you asked, not even realizing how he just confessed his love for the first time.

“My brothers, they said Viking women should be able to take care of things on their own. And you did. I flipped out because... You might not believe me but I was scared she would hurt you. I don’t want to lose you. And then you ran away... I followed you, but you didn’t listen when I called out your name, and then I found the lake...”

“You saved me. Thank you.” you said running a hand down his arm.

“I love you. And from now on I won’t be scared to show it. And the first step to do that is...would you marry me please?” 

You looked down, not daring to look at him because you knew you would say yes, immediately. You needed to think rationally.

“If I do, I want you to know something. I don’t want to share my husband with any other. If you cannot be or won’t be loyal... I won’t stay with you.”

“I have been loyal to you since we got together.”

“I know, but marriage is for life, no? Not just months.”

“I know what I want. I want you. I want a bigger house for us so we can have lots of children. I want that garden for you you always mentioned, I want to have a life with you.” 

He grabbed your chin and slowly made you look at him.

“Yes. I want that too, all of it. I love you so much.” you said as he captured your lips in a kiss.

***

After your fight with Margrethe, she stopped bullying you. She was now afraid of you, not daring to look at you at all during dinners or at all during the day.

It was a nice finish to that chapter of your life.

Marriage would be a new chapter, a new start of your life with Hvitserk. After nearly drowning and losing the man you love so much.

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[melishade]

Attack on Prime Halloween Anthology: The Rake

Main Story  

Red Death

Medusa

Hachishakusama      

“Because of your little shit story yesterday,” Jean began as they all sat around the bonfire once more, “We were stuck cleaning the barracks!”

“I did not fair any different from you,” Optimus retorted, remembering how he was coerced into getting his alt mode cleaned once again by the Captain.

“Shut up with your shitty complaints,” Levi hissed at them all.

“At least you didn’t get knocked out,” Hanji shrugged, “But let’s move on to the next story.”

Optimus straightened his back out and turned his attention to the fire. “A family of three lived their lives contently in a small town. One morning, when the woman went to wake her husband up, she noticed...a creature at the foot of her bed. It looked like a pale and naked old man, or a shriveled-up wet dog. It had no hair, and its eyes were sunken black. The woman gasped, causing the creature to react. It scurried on all fours to the man’s side of the bed, causing him to curl up in fear. It stared deep into his eyes, before scurrying out of their room, and into their child’s room. The creature fled their home, covered in blood, and the father had found the mangled corpse of his child on the floor. With her dying breath, she had muttered:

He is the Rake.

Out of desperation, the father had taken a horse and ridden to the closest hospital, but something had spooked the animal, knocking the both of them off a cliff and too his death. The woman was left alone, stricken by grief and fear. She had done all she could to find information about this creature through books and word of mouth, and she managed to find enough information to sense a pattern with the creature. She had stayed awake day and night, taking little moments of rest as possible. Finding the creature had now become her sole purpose. She no longer ate, and drank minimal water. Her skin grew pale and her bones protruded out of her body. 

On the third week, she had finally heard the presence of the Rake. She had heard the creature’s shrill cry echo in the halls of her home. She did not know where she had heard the sound, but she remembered it well, and she remembered what followed.

A day later, a neighbor had found the woman’s corpse, bloodied and mangled on the floor. The townsfolk had never found what killed her, but they dreaded that it would come for them next.”

“...okay, that’s pretty doable,” Connie admitted.

“I don’t want some naked guy breaking into my house!” Jean exclaimed.

“Are there any others like it?” Mikasa asked.

“That’s a fair question,” Hanji asked, “Is this ‘Rake’ a single one, or are they solitary creatures?”

“Oh my god,” Eren swore under his breath.

“I do not have the answer to such a question,” Optimus answered.

“Better than the damn story yesterday,” Levi declared before pointing back to the port, “Now go clean your rooms.”

“We already did that today!” Sasha whined.

“Now,” Levi threatened ominously.

(Levi’s not getting over Red Death anytime soon. Anyway, there’s no video for this. But I will leave the link for the wiki page.)

(https://monster.fandom.com/wiki/Rake)

[bex-la-get]

Sunday Mornings (Ethan x f!MC)

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Natalie Cusack

Special Appearance: The Ramsack Kids

Word count: 1945

Summary: Nat and Ethan enjoy their Sunday mornings. Told over several years.

Rating: T (All the fluff)

Author’s Note: Literally wrote this in the span of an hour and it’s currently 1am here so apologies in advance for any mistakes. Enjoy!

Sundays were for them.

Every Sunday, Nat and Ethan had the day off from the hospital, something Ethan had negotiated with Naveen and the Board early into their relationship. And, as a result, every Sunday was theirs for the taking. If they wanted to be lazy, they would be lazy. If they wanted to run errands and prepare for the week, then that’s what they would do. If they wanted to turn off their phones and focus only on each other, then that’s what they would do too. Regardless of their plans, their Sundays were always sure to be full of one thing: each other.

On a particular rainy Sunday morning, Nat woke to the sound of thunder rumbling outside her window. She groaned in protest at the sound and snuggled deeper into the mattress, burying herself beneath the covers. Within moments, she felt a strong pair of arms snake around her body and hold her tightly, the feel of Ethan’s bare chest against her back, as they breathed in sync with one another.

“Mm, good morning,” Ethan muttered into Nat’s ear.

She groaned in response. “No.”

Ethan chuckled. “No to me or to the morning?”

“To the morning,” she mumbled, her eyes still closed. “Too early.”

Ethan glanced at the clock on his bedside table, noting it was rather early for a Sunday; 7:15 to be exact. He turned back to Nat and pulled her closer in his embrace, placing a soft kiss behind her ear. “I love you,” he said, quietly.

“Mm, love you too,” she replied. Her eyes were still closed and her voice was still sleep laden. He smiled and placed another kiss on her shoulder, laying his head back on the pillow and intending to fall back asleep, only to feel Nat shift in his arms until she was facing him. She began to gently run her fingers up and down the bridge of his nose and he opened his eyes to find her blue-green ones staring back at him. “Hi,” she whispered.

“Hi.”

“Let’s stay in today,” she suggested. She snuggled closer to him as she spoke, their noses almost touching. 

“Mm, didn’t you want to go grocery shopping?” he asked.

She shook her head. “We can have them delivered. Today, I just want you and me. And Jenner.” The aforementioned pup perked his head up at his name, his tail gently wagging.

Ethan smiled. “Okay; you, me, and Jenner then. Anything in particular you want to do?”

“Mhm, this.” Cupping the back of his head with her hand, she kissed him firmly. He melted into the kiss instantly, his hands gripping her hips as he pulled her impossibly closer. But just as the kiss was growing in intensity, Nat pulled back and bit her lip. “I just realized, I have morning breath,” she giggled. “I’ll be right back.”

She moved to make her way out of the bed but Ethan held her down tightly, readjusting the two of them so he was laying on top of her. “Oh no, you don’t.”

Nat fell back onto the mattress and laughed. “E, I’m just going to brush my teeth. I’ll be right back.”

“Nope, don’t care,” he said, peppering kisses along her neck and jaw. “I’ll kiss you with any kind of breath. Morning breath, coffee breath, garlic breath; I don’t care. I want to kiss you always.” He kissed her lips softly to emphasize his point and Natalie smiled when he pulled away.

“That’s quite a declaration, Dr. Ramsey. Are you sure you want to stick with it?” she teased.

He grinned and kissed her more firmly this time, eliciting a soft moan from Nat. “Always,” he repeated, when he broke the kiss. Natalie returned his smile and kissed him again, this one full of love and passion. Soon, their kisses led to roaming hands, stripped clothing, and moans of pleasure filling up the room. On this particular Sunday, they never left the bedroom.

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

Two Years Later

Ethan was the first to wake, the sounds of crying filling his ears. Quickly getting out of bed, he made his way to the nursery, finding baby Noah wriggling around in his crib, crying for his parents. Ethan smiled at his son and gently picked him up, the crying stopping almost instantly. “Good morning, Noah,” Ethan whispered quietly, looking into the bright blue eyes of his son. “There’s no need to cry, Daddy’s here. I’ve got you.”

Taking his son to the changing table and giving Noah a clean diaper, Ethan made his way to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle from the fridge before returning to the bedroom. Settling Noah comfortably in his arms, he gave Noah the bottle and watched as his tiny hands grabbed for the container. Ethan smiled at the sight.

Halfway through his son’s feeding, Natalie began to stir next to him. Opening her eyes, she smiled at the sight of Ethan and Noah in front of her. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, my love,” Ethan replied, smiling at her. “Happy Sunday.”

“Mm, happy Sunday, indeed.” Natalie stretched her arms above her head before sitting up to watch her feeding son. “How’s our little Bear this morning?”

“Just fine,” Ethan said, proudly. Nat gently ran her hand over Noah’s curly hair and smiled. When Noah finished, Ethan transferred the baby into Nat’s arms for a burping while Ethan got up to make them some coffee. When he returned, two steaming mugs in hand, his heart swelled at the sight of Nat gently rocking Noah in her arms, humming a quiet tune to the small boy. Noah’s bright blue eyes stared back at his mother in awe, as if he were amazed by what he was hearing. Ethan couldn’t blame him; Nat was quite the amazing woman.

He entered the room further and placed the coffee mug on Nat’s nightstand before sitting back in his own place in the bed. “Thanks,” she said, smiling at Ethan.

He returned her smile and placed a chaste kiss against her lips. “You’re welcome, my love. So, what’s on the agenda today?”

Nat thought for a moment. “Brunch with your dad, we need to get some more baby-proofing stuff for the apartment, and… oh, didn’t you want to hit up that new bookstore?”

“If we have time, yes,” Ethan confirmed. 

“We’ll make time,” Nat said, confidently. “I hear their children’s section is really extensive.”

“More books? Nat, he’s already got a shelf full,” Ethan replied, fighting the smile that was growing on his lips.

Nat shook her head, a familiar mischievous look in her eyes. “You can never have too many books, baby. Besides, I want him to be well-read! And, studies show that reading to babies can help them develop their language skills.”

Ethan chuckled. “I should’ve known not to question you on this. But you know we’re going to need another bookshelf at this rate.”

Nat shrugged and smirked. “You say that like it’s a bad thing!” Ethan simply laughed in response.

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

Ten Years Later

Little Lydia was the first to wake in the Ramsey household, early one Sunday morning. It was a quiet, snowy morning in December; the Christmas holiday was right around the corner and she’d been dying to know what Santa would be bringing this year. She’d planned on asking him for the new toy doctor set that she’d seen on TV; she really hoped she’d get it. She’d been extra good this year too! If only Christmas wasn’t so far away.

She tiptoed out of her room and glanced down the hallway, only silence and a slight chill greeting her. She shivered and turned to her left, making her way down to her parent’s room. She cracked open the door slightly to find her parents fast asleep, Jenner sleeping on the floor next to her mother’s side of the bed. The only creature in the room that was awake was Louis, their calico cat, who was watching her with mild interest from his perch on the window sill. 

Quietly, Lydia entered the room and made her way to her mother’s side of the bed. Patting her arm gently, she waited as Natalie opened her eyes, sleepily. When she spotted her youngest daughter, Nat perked up slightly. “Hi baby,” she said, quietly.

“Hi Mama,” little Lydia greeted. “Can I sleep with you?”

“Of course, sweetie,” Natalie said. Scooting further into the middle of the bed, she lifted the covers for little Lydia to crawl under, tucking her youngest into her embrace tightly as they snuggled together back into bed. As the two of them settled back into bed and began to fall back asleep, Natalie felt a strong arm wrap around her, stopping when it felt an extra body in the bed. She fought back her smile as she felt Ethan lift his head up from the pillow.

“Why are there two of you?” he asked, groggily.

Nat giggled and turned her head to her husband. “You do know we have three kids, right?”

“Oh, is that who they are? I thought they were just tiny roommates who don’t help pay the mortgage.”

Nat rolled her eyes and placed her cold foot against Ethan’s leg causing him to jump at the sensation. “Now, that’s just cruel,” he joked.

Natalie chuckled. “That’s what you get for being snarky this early in the morning.”

Ethan shook his head, smiling. “Yes, dear.” He nuzzled his nose into her hair and placed a soft kiss on her temple. Just as the two of them settled back into bed, they heard the distinct sound of their bedroom door creaking open. Ethan looked to the source to find Evie sneaking into the room. “Hi honey, everything okay?”

Evie nodded. “It’s cold,” she replied.

“Come here,” Ethan gestured. “We’ll put you right between me and Mama for extra warmth.” Evie followed her father’s instructions and crawled into the middle of the bed, snuggling under the covers between her parents. Ethan wrapped his arm around the three Ramsey women, who now occupied most of his bed, as best he could, his fingertips just resting on little Lydia’s back. His head falling back onto the pillow, he slowly began to drift back to sleep.

Until the door creaked open again. He did his best not to groan; it appeared this would not be the Sunday to lie in. 

This time, Nat was the one to look up at the new occupant of the room, finding Noah groggily looking confused at his parents. “I heard voices,” he explained, “it woke me up.”

“Sorry, Bear,” Nat said. She quickly glanced at Ethan who gave her a small nod before she looked back at her son. “Come on in here, there’s plenty of room.”

“I’m too tall, I won’t fit in with the rest of you,” Noah protested. It was true, he was tall for an eleven-year-old; but neither Nat nor Ethan cared. Their boy would never be too tall for them for anything; especially cuddles. 

“I’m tall too,” Ethan reasoned, “and I still fit. Come on, we’ll make it work.”

“Come on, Noey,” little Lydia encouraged. 

Smiling, Noah nodded and crawled into his parent’s bed, snuggling next to Nat as Evie snuggled against Ethan. It was tight, with all five of them in the bed at once, but the Ramseys were nothing if not resourceful, and they found a way to make it work. With all of their children tucked safely into their arms, the Ramseys finally fell back asleep, as a light snow fell on the ground outside. As both Ethan and Natalie drifted back into their slumber, they shared one singular thought: Sundays were their favorite days.

A/N: Tagging separately.