Smile (Stannis BaratheonXPregnant!Reader)Smile (Stannis BaratheonXPregnant!Reader)19 hours ago in Short Stories
Stannis Baratheon never smiled. At first when you heard this, you assumed it was an over exaggeration. But after after meeting the middle Baratheon you found it to be true. Stannis really did never smile. Not when he found out about the betrothal, not when you actually wed, not when you told him you were with child. You assumed he was just unhappy about being forced to wed a woman he's never met before, but after speaking with Robert you knew he just never smiled. Stannis was never around much during your pregnancy. You rarely saw him during the day and saw him mainly at supper in the hall. He did sleep in the same bed as you although you barely noticed due to always going to sleep before he got up to the chambers or him always waking up first. You ran your hands over your large belly as you thought back on your relationship with Stannis Baratheon, wondering if anything would change once the baby came. A smile graced your lips when you felt the babe kick, but the smile faded when you f
Labour for Idiots"Michelle? Michelle, wake up!"Labour for Idiots19 hours ago in Short Stories
"...Mhwarisit?..." Michelle didn't bother lifting her head; she just sort of grunted in acknowledgement.
"...Shit...." Ramona groaned through gritted teeth. She was on the bedroom floor in a foetal position (or as close to a foetal position as a woman who's nine months pregnant and a size 16 even when she isn't can get) and her voice was being torn apart by short, sharp gasps and moans of pain.
"What do you want?" Michelle was still half-asleep, cling film wrapped around her head and sea green dye smeared down her face.
"Michelle, wake up...My waters just broke..."
"Call a fucking plumber then..."
"I'm not kidding; get up!" Sitting up, Michelle adjusted the plastic over her hair, stretching nonchalantly, without a hint of urgency about her.
"What time is it? Holy hell, have you pissed the bed?" She looked around the room, confused. "'Mona? Where are you?"
"Michelle, I'm not messing around...a bit
It Will Get BetterIt’s hot in Arizona at the end of July; it’s somewhere around 98 degrees outside. That’s what the weather man said at least. An old man is sitting out on his porch, slowly moving back and forth in the broken-down rocking chair he’s had since a little after he moved here. There’s sweat dripping down his back, sticking his thin shirt to the back of the chair. He’s looking out at the expansive desert before him. He loved this house. He still does, really. It’ll be sad when he has to leave it. He begins to cough, a harsh sound coming from deep within in his chest. He puts a hand to his mouth and isn’t surprised anymore when it comes away with small dots of blood on it. He takes a long breath and closes his eyes, and then they fly open again with a start as the screen door is suddenly banging shut behind him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,”It Will Get Better9 hours ago in Short Stories