#and then i suffered for an hour before realizing i was hungry.

[glowingsand]

woke up at 7am on a saturday to try out life drawing…it was fun once i finally got the hang of it :’>

[foldingfittedsheets]

I think something a lot of other people can relate to is the way that you get so conditioned to discomfort that you stop registering it.

I remember sitting at the table with my family, eating dinner as a child. I’d try to eat, because of course I was hungry. But sometimes the flavor or texture was so repugnant that it moved into a category of Not Food.

“Two more bites before you can leave the table.”

“I can’t,” I’d say, trying to explain the impossibility.

But because I was a child they heard, “I won’t,” and made me sit at the table. I’d sit in dull agonized silence, bored and hungry for hours until bedtime when they’d give up. I’d hate myself for not eating and my parents for forcing me to sit there. The few forcefeeding moments ended in vomit.

They’d say, “If you don’t eat this you can’t eat a snack later,” and I moved past trying to communicate my discomfort into accepting that I’d just be hungry.

That state of affairs didn’t last, because my parents realized nothing could force me to eat so they catered to my palate, worrying they’d starve me. But the message stuck. If you can’t do anything about a situation, just accept the suffering.

A few years later my mother called me off the playground to ask, “Are you limping?”

I shrugged. My feet had hurt for a long time, but that was just the way things were now. My mom pulled my socks and shoes off and gasped. The soles of my feet were covered in huge painful planters warts.

“Why didn’t you say anything?!” She demanded but I could only shrug at her. I’d learned a long time ago that saying things about my discomfort didn’t matter, so now I had no words. Sometimes things hurt and sometimes they don’t. I simply accepted and did my best.

Now as an adult trying to learn to improve my own conditions can be hard. If I make food that I can’t eat I’ll force myself to sit at the counter still, full of guilt and self loathing, trying to will myself to eat it.

At first I needed my betrothed to gently take it away to present me with something I could eat. Now on my own I can usually admit that it’s not happening before too long and get something else, but I still feel guilty.

Laying in bed at night waiting for my betrothed to finish getting ready I let out a huge sigh of relief when they turned the lights off.

“Why didn’t you turn them off if they bothered you?” they asked the first time it happened.

“I didn’t even know it was bothering me until it was gone.”

Assessing my physical state now to see if I can improve it is something I’m still relearning but I’m relieved to finally have the space and support to do it.

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗧𝗢𝗥

　　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Y/N and Matt are in a complicated relationship, where Matt is still stuck in the past with his ex. In an angsty pathway, Y/N suffers when she realizes that Matt will never love her as she wants.

WARNING: Crying, panic attack, comparison, ANGST.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

Part 2

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N adjusted her stunning dress in front of the mirror. The bright red silk fabric hugged her curves in a way she knew would make heads turn that night. Her hair fell in perfect waves over her shoulders, meticulously styled by her curling iron, and her makeup highlighted her features impeccably.

There was a palpable excitement in the air, an expectation of Matt's reaction; she always expected to receive showers of praise from her boy, just as she did for him. The party they were about to go to - a fancy one that celebrated the launch of the new Space Camp line - would be the perfect opportunity to show everyone, and especially him, how hard she worked to be perfect.

The low sound of the bedroom door's handle turning sounded through the silence, Matt's figure appearing through the wooden frame, and all Y/N could feel as she watched him through the mirror's reflection was her racing heart. He looked stunning in his black suit, the crooked tie relaxing the seriousness of his attire.

She waited for the compliment, for the spark in his eyes that would confirm that all the effort had been worth it.

"You look beautiful, Y/N." Blue eyes traveled over her body for some seconds, but before she could absorb the joy of that moment, he finished. "Did you know that Amanda has a dress similar to yours?"

Y/N felt her stomach tighten painfully as her heart felt like it was being broken by a hammer three times its size. Amanda. Always Amanda. Matt's ex-girlfriend was a constant shadow between them, a specter that Y/N could never completely dispel.

She forced a smile, swallowing the anguish rising in her throat.

"Oh, really?" Was all she could say, trying to keep her voice steady, her hands shaking slightly at the side of her hips.

Later that day, the party continued with Y/N ​​by Matt's side, but her mind was far away. Every time someone praised her, she remembered Matt's comment. Even surrounded by people and with Matt by her side, she felt incredibly alone.

Her thoughts revolved around a single question: Why couldn't he see her for who she was instead of always comparing her to Amanda?

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

A few weeks later, a new day brought a new blow. Matt was in his shared room with Y/N, sitting in his gaming chair with his upper body resting on the wooden surface, his hands on his Macbook, busy answering emails sent to the triplets' mail.

Y/N entered quietly, carrying two glasses full of fresh watermelon juice, knowing that Matt would definitely be thirsty and hungry after hours of sitting there. But as she got closer, she saw his computer screen. The messaging app was open, and the open window wasn't just any texts — it was old conversations between Matt and Amanda.

He read them with a melancholic smile, his eyes shining with a longing that Y/N knew all too well.

"Matt..." Her voice came out in an involuntary whisper, the broken tone sounding louder than it was expected.

The boy startled, closing the laptop quickly.

"Babe, hey, you scared me!" The boy turned around suddenly, clearing his throat and laughing awkwardly, trying to look casual. "I was just... clearing out some old stuff."

Y/N just nodded, the pain growing inside her chest.

"It's fine. Here, I made this for you." She raised her hand that held the fullest glass, smiling brokenly and keeping her eyes open, taking note on how Matt didn't notice the tears shining in her orbs or pretended not to.

She knew he was lying. She knew he was stuck in the past, that Amanda still dominated his thoughts and his heart. But once again, she chose to ignore it, to stifle her own suffering out of love for him.

Because losing Matt was a fear that outweighed any pain she might feel.

Right?

Right! Until things reached an unbearable point.

Y/N had an appointment at the beauty salon, something she did to feel a little more in control, a little more beautiful in a reality where she always felt insufficient. Matt said he couldn't accompany her, claiming he had videos to film with his brothers. She understood, or at least she tried.

It was Saturday, they didn't film on Saturday.

Sitting in the salon chair, while her nails were being done and her hair was treated, Y/N took out her phone to pass the time, holding the device awkwardly for fear of smudging her sparkling nail polish.

Scrolling through Instagram while her ears caught some conversations around the salon, her heart almost flew out of its place and up her mouth when she saw a photo that one of the celebrity gossip pages had just posted.

Matt was in a coffee shop with Amanda.

His smile was radiant, a kind of joy Y/N hadn't seen on his face in a long time. He looked so… complete, so genuinely happy.

Y/N felt the world come crashing down around her. Tears burned her eyes, but she held them back, looking around at all the other radiant women before turning her attention back to the news, clutching her cell between her left fingers, a low "sorry" scaping her lips when her right hand trembled against the manicurist ones.

She didn't give a shit that they were talking in a cafe, she didn't mind if they wanted to be friends again - even though she had destroyed Matt, and Y/N was the one to put him together again -, it was something else that bothered her.

Matt had lied to her. He said he was going to film. What the fuck was he doing out with Amanda?

But the truth was right there, raw and painful: Matt would never be fully hers. No matter how hard she tried, no matter how much she sacrificed, he would always be stuck in the past in the love he had for Amanda. He would always go back to her.

Y/N took a deep breath, forcing a smile as the manicurist applied red nail polish to her nails on her left hand. The color perfectly matched the feelings she felt at that moment; dark.

Every move by the salon professionals seemed like a desperate attempt to beautify her for someone who would never see her true beauty. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop her mind from going back to that image of Matt smiling with Amanda. It was a smile she could never get out of him.

"You look amazing, Y/N!" Cintia, the girl's hairdresser for years now, praised excitedly, straightening the last strands of hair just finished and turning the chair so that Y/N could see herself in the mirror. "Matt will love it."

Y/N looked at her reflection, but all she saw was an improved version of herself that, despite all her effort, would never be enough for Matt. She would always be just a shadow, a pale substitute.

"Thank you..." The girl tried to say, but her voice came out hoarse, almost a whisper, fighting to keep the tears at bay.

The room around her seemed like a golden prison, full of mirrors that only reflected her internal pain. Every compliment, every word of encouragement, sounded hollow, meaningless, because the person whose opinion mattered most was, at that very moment, laughing and smiling with another woman; the woman he truly loved.

When Y/N finally left the salon, she felt exhausted, as if she had run an emotional marathon. She walked slowly to her home, opting not to call an Uber.

Her hands fished her phone out of her half-open purse, and, with trembling fingers decorated in red, she sent a text to Diana, her best friend.

"Diana, are you home? Can I sleep there tonight?"

As she waited for the answer, her mind wandered through a whirlwind of thoughts. The pain was constant but mixed with a new resolve.

She needed to get out of there. She needed space to breathe, to think.

"Of course, babes!"

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Getting home was an automatic process. The house she shared with the triplets seemed colder and more hostile than ever.

Y/N walked past the living room where Chris and Nick were sprawled awkwardly on the gray couch playing video games, their excited laughter, and screams a cruel contrast to the pain she felt.

"Y/N!" Nick smiled brightly when he saw his best friend out of the corner of his eye. "Want to play a round with us?"

"No thanks, Nick. I'm tired." She murmured, smiling wide and fake - even though he wasn't looking at her directly -, trying to appear normal.

She walked slowly down the path between the living room and kitchen, each step a reminder of what she was about to do.

Her hands worked automatically on the door, entering her shared room with Matt, closing it behind her, the sound of the lock clicking echoing like a period in her mind. She looked around, taking in the details that made the space a home - the photos on the wall, the personal items, the memories. But now, it all felt empty.

She grabbed a suitcase stored at the back of their shared closet and began filling it with her necessities. The simple act of opening the suitcase caused a wave of despair to hit her.

Every piece of clothing and every object that her hands roughly touched and threw blindly into the suitcase was a small stab in her heart. The tears finally started to stream down her face, and she didn't try to stop them. Reality was imposing itself in a cruel way.

Her movements became slower and slower, while her thoughts became more chaotic.

"I'll never be enough for him."

"I'll never be her."

"He'll never love me the way I love him."

"I'm destroying myself for someone who cares little about me."

"What did I do wrong?"

These thoughts repeated like a cruel mantra in her mind. She felt her breathing quicken. Her lungs seemed unable to take in enough air. The room, which had always been a refuge, now felt like an oppressive cell. Panic began to set in. Her chest felt tight, her hands shook, and the air seemed to escape.

The tears flowed like hot, relentless waterfalls. The suitcase was open in front of her, half full, but it seemed like an insurmountable abyss. Y/N tried to take a deep breath, but each attempt only resulted in more despair.

The sobs came strong and uncontrollable. The girl stopped in front of the bed, standing, after throwing the last piece taken by her hands, bending her upper body over the suitcase, gripping the edge of the thick fabric with such strength that it made her fingers take on a whitish color, fully throwing her weight on her arms as if they were a lifeboat in the middle of a storm.

"Why am I not good enough?"

"What is wrong with me?"

"Why can’t he love me?"

She felt completely alone, drowning in her own pain. The panic attack took over, stealing any trace of control she still had.

The walls of the room seemed to close in on Y/N, the contours of the furniture becoming indistinct and threatening as her breathing became increasingly rapid and shallow. Her heart hammered in her chest with an almost painful force, each beat ringing in her ears like deafening thunder. The air felt thick, sticky, and impossible to inhale properly.

"Am I really that hard to be loved?"

"I wish I was her."

"He was never mine, right?"

Her hands shook uncontrollably, her fingers tingling over her suitcase as a feeling of numbness spread through her arms. Sweat dripped down her forehead, leaving her feeling sticky and uncomfortable, while the cold began to spread throughout her body, generating incessant chills.

Her vision blurred, the edges of the room distorting into restless shadows that danced and pulsed, transforming the room into a place strangely familiar and frighteningly alien at the same time. Each sound seemed amplified and distant, the ones of laughter and the clicks of long and simple kisses played in memories in her head like a record player at its highest volume, creating a surreal echo that only intensified the feeling of isolation and despair.

Exhausted, Y/N let herself sink to the floor, her sobs echoing in the empty room, an expression of the pain and loneliness that she felt suffocating herself relentlessly. Her legs folded in front of her body, the front of her thighs sticking firmly against her stomach as her arms served as a shield for her head, her hands involuntarily going up to her own hair, gripping the strands tightly, trying to ground herself.

Meanwhile, Nick ran towards her and Matt's room with quick, excited steps. He had just finished the last round of his video game with Chris and was looking forward to seeing the outcome of Y/N's salon day, hoping it would make her happier after noticing the inconsistency in her voice when she got home.

His closed fist lightly knocked on the door before opening it, the smile on his face instantly disappearing as his eyes met the scene before him.

Y/N was on the floor, curled up in a fetal position, her hands now grabbing her arms in a desperate hug. Her face was wet with tears, her eyes wide and fixed on a distant, indistinct point. Her breathing was ragged, labored, as if she were trying to pull air through a narrow, clogged straw. The sound of her panting was interspersed with heavy sobs, creating a symphony of anguish that made Nick's heart tighten in his chest.

"Y/N!" Nick called, his voice thick with panic. But to Y/N, his words were like distant whispers, drowned out by the deafening noise of her own frantically beating heart.

Her mind was in a whirlwind of chaotic, disorganized thoughts, each competing for attention and increasing the feeling of panic. She felt trapped in an endless cycle of terror, unable to escape the downward spiral that consumed her.

The feeling of suffocation was overwhelming, as if an invisible weight was pressing down on her chest, making every desperate attempt to breathe difficult. The seconds seemed to stretch into a torturous eternity, each second carrying a new wave of fear and despair.

Nick ran up to her, the panic on his face intensifying by the second. He knelt beside Y/N, trying to find a way to reach her, to bring her back from that abyss of despair. His hands shook as he gently pulled her close, enveloping her in a tight, protective hug.

"I’m here, Y/N, I’m here." He repeated, his voice choked with emotion, praying to whatever was watching them to make her listen to him. But she didn't seem to be able to do it, lost in her own spiral of panic.

Nick closed his eyes for a moment, fighting to stay calm. He knew he needed to be strong for her, and he needed to find a way to calm her.

"Y/N, look at me, please." He pleaded, voice softer, trying to break the invisible barrier that kept her trapped in her own fear. The brunette held her face with his hands, forcing her to look into his eyes. "Breathe with me, okay? Breathe slowly."

He began to breathe deeply, exaggerating his movements so she could follow. He breathed in slowly and deeply through his nose, holding it for a moment before slowly exhaling through his mouth. He felt Y/N tremble in his arms, but he kept pace, trying to convey calmness through each breath.

"That's it, keep going, you can do it." Nick encouraged, feeling a small change in her breathing. Her panting began to synchronize with his, although it was still irregular. He continued to whisper words of comfort, repeating that he was there, that she wasn't alone.

Slowly, very slowly, he felt the stiffness in her body begin to ease. Y/N's breathing became a little steadier, although she was still shaking. Nick kept the hug tight, feeling her heart beat against his own chest. He knew she was still scared, still trapped in her mind, but she was starting to come back.

"You're safe, Y/N. I'm here." Nick said once again, his voice firm and reassuring. He didn't let go of her face, maintaining eye contact, grounding her to reality. "Let's get through this together, okay?"

Finally, after several minutes that felt like hours, Y/N began to breathe in a more controlled manner. Her sobs subsided, and her eyes, once wide with terror, began to focus on Nick's. Her blurred vision cleared a little, the walls of the room seeming less threatening.

Nick sighed in relief, still holding her tightly, feeling the tension gradually ease in her muscles.

His own heart was still beating fast, but now, for a different reason. He looked around, trying to understand the situation better, when his blue orbs stopped on the open suitcase above the bed. The sight of the packed suitcase made his heart sink. Confusion and fear settled in his chest. What was happening? Why was she packing her things? The thought of Y/N leaving caused him his own panic, an intense worry that he tried to suppress, deciding that the questions could wait.

With a conscious effort, he looked away from the suitcase and focused on the immediate task of taking care of Y/N. He stood up slowly, maintaining eye contact to ensure she didn't feel abandoned for even a moment. The boy grabbed the pink bottle of water from the bedside table on her side of the bed and quickly returned, sitting next to her on the cold floor again. The hard ground beneath him was a sharp contrast to the softness of concern he felt for Y/N.

"Here, drink some water." He asked softly, handing Y/N the bottle.

The fragile girl took the bottle with hands that were still shaking but managed to open the cap and take a few small sips, each one firmer than the last. Nick watched her every move, his mind still spinning around the suitcase. The silence in the room was heavy, filled with unspoken words and unasked questions. He waited patiently, without pressing, standing by her side like a pillar of support.

After long seconds of silence, Y/N took a deep breath, her gaze shifting from the bottle to the suitcase on the bed. She knew she needed to explain. Nick deserved to know what was going on, especially after helping her get through that panic attack. She straightened up a little, trying to find the strength to speak.

"Nick..." She began, her voice still trembling. "I... I'm packing because I need to get out of here for a while. I can't stay here any longer, the way things are between me and..." Her voice trailed off into the air before she could mention the name of the boy she loved most in the world.

Nick felt a lump form in his throat, but he remained calm, waiting for her to continue. Y/N took another sip of water before continuing, her words coming out in a halting, painful stream.

"I saw Matt with Amanda today, you know? They were together, and he looked so happy… happier than I've ever seen him with me." Her voice cracked again, but she took a deep breath and continued. "It made me realize that no matter how much I love him, he will never love me the same way. And I can't keep destroying myself like this. So, I'm going to spend the night at Diana's house. I need some time to think, to calm down. Get away from here. Get away from him. And maybe make him miss me... Or finally notice that I'm not what he wants." The last part came out in a broken whisper, her gaze lowering to her crossed legs.

Nick felt a wave of relief upon hearing that she wasn't leaving his life forever, but the worry and sadness over her situation still weighed heavily on him. He wanted to say something, anything to ease her pain, but the words seemed inadequate. Instead, he just nodded, offering silent support.

"And please, Nick, don't tell Matt anything yet." Y/N asked, her eyes pleading. "I need a little time to understand what I'm going to do. He really hurt me, but I can't act on impulse."

Nick held her hand firmly, offering her an expression of understanding and support.

"Of course, Y/N. I won't tell him. I promise." He murmured sincerely. "You can have all the time you need. And I'm here for you, no matter what. I love my little brother, but I won't defend him when he's in the wrong end. You deserve someone who sees you for who you are, Y/N. Someone who loves you completely, without shadows of the past."

They sat there for a few more minutes, sharing that moment of stillness and understanding. The cold of the ground seemed less intense with each other's comforting presence.

Eventually, Y/N stood up, with Nick helping her place her suitcase on the floor. She took one last look at the room she had shared with Matt, pain visible in her eyes but also a growing determination. She knew she needed to step away to heal, to find her own strength again.

"Let's go." Nick's voice woke her from her reverie, his hands picking up her suitcase and walking it to the door. "I'll uber you to Diana's house."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Matt returned home with a beaming smile on his face, his heart still racing with the joy of the friendly encounter he had had. He had spent the afternoon with Amanda, talking and laughing like old times, and the feeling of familiarity and happiness was undeniable.

The boy climbed the stairs of the house with quick steps, eager to see Y/N and share his good mood with her. He wanted to hold her close on their bed, bury his nose in the curve of her neck, and smell her soft and natural perfume as he told her about his day.

But when he opened the bedroom door, a strange feeling of tension in the air made him stop. The environment felt different, as if something had changed, but he couldn't identify what it was. He entered the space, leaving the door open behind him, turning his body and letting his eyes roam the four walls, trying to find what was wrong. Nothing seemed out of place at first glance: the bed was made, his clothes were in the same place, the books were on the shelf, and the computer was on the computer desk. But there was an absence he still couldn't understand.

It was when he opened the closet that reality began to form in his mind. Y/N's side was almost empty. Where her dresses, skirts, and t-shirts once hung, now there were just a few lonely hangers. The empty space where her suitcase sat now felt like a black hole, sucking in all the light and joy he had felt moments before.

Matt felt his heart stop for a second, a feeling of panic starting to take over his chest.

"Y/N? Hey, baby? Are you cleaning out the closet by any chance?" Matt's broken voice sounded through the room in an echo, seeming to escape out the door and travel the entire floor of the house, his blue eyes still fixed on the empty hangers as his mind created the expectation of hearing the sweet, melodious voice back.

But nothing came.

Nick appeared silently in the doorway, watching his younger brother with a serious expression. Matt was so absorbed in his desperate search for answers that he didn't notice Nick's presence until he heard his voice.

"She left."

Matt turned abruptly, his wide, confused eyes meeting Nick's. The older triplet's expression was one of deep sadness, mixed with calm determination. Matt felt a wave of despair rise up inside him, like an overwhelming tide ready to swallow him.

"What do you mean 'she left'?" Matt asked, his voice trembling accompanied by an expression of terror. "Where- Where did she go?"

Nick sighed, taking a step forward, eyes shining with suppressed anger.

"That doesn't matter now. What matters is that you need to decide what you really want, Matt. She saw you with Amanda today, you know?"

Matt felt the ground disappear beneath his feet. He looked around the room again, this time with a clear understanding of what was missing. Y/N, the constant, loving presence in his life, was gone.

"I don't understand..." Matt muttered almost to himself. "I thought we were fine."

"Only you saw this. Seeing you with Amanda was the last straw for her. She loves you, she really does, but she can't keep living like this, Matt, not when she knows that you still have feelings for your ex." Nick scoffed, a disgusted tone echoing with his words, shaking his head and rolling his eyes in suppressed anger. "And you can't continue like this, dividing your attention between Y/N and Amanda. This is destroying Y/N, and you don't even realize it."

"But I... I was just trying to be friends with Amanda again. I don't have feelings for her anymore." Matt spluttered, confusion and guilt beginning to mix in his chest.

"Then why do you keep seeing her?" Nick countered, with no softness in his words. "Y/N loves you, Matt. She loves you so much that she is destroying herself because you don't treat her like you should. She needs you, and you're here, acting like nothing's wrong. And if you continue like this, you will permanently lose the only girl who has truly stuck by your side through thick and thin."

Matt felt a lump tighten in his throat. He tried to speak, but words failed him. The image of Y/N, the woman he loved, suffering in silence because of her insensitivity, was unbearable.

He felt foolish and insensitive. How had he not realized how much Y/N ​​was suffering? All he wanted was to be able to hug her now, tell her that he loved her, and that she was the only person that mattered. But at that moment, he realized how late those words could be.

"I didn't cheat on her, Nick. I really was with Amanda, but I didn't… I didn't do anything wrong." Matt's voice sounded choked, tears beginning to well up in his eyes as anxiety rose through his body like rafters.

"You think you didn't, Matt. But sometimes, it's not about what you do but about how you make the other person feel. And honestly? Giving priority to your ex, the girl who broke you and made you suffer for days on end, over Y/N, who you say you love oh so much, is low blow. Right now, Y/N needs space to breathe to understand her own feelings. And you need to truly analyze what you did and recant with her when she is ready."

Matt walked with shaky steps towards the double bed, sinking onto the edge of the mattress, burying his face in his hands. The weight of guilt and regret was crushing. All he could think about was how he wanted to turn back in time, do things differently, show Y/N that she was the center of his world. Never have lunch with Amanda.

"I need to talk to her." Matt tightened his fingers around the brown strands of her hair, sniffling. "I need to tell her that I'm sorry, that I love her. I really do, Nick."

"I know. But give her a little time, Matt. Forcing a conversation now might make things worse. Let her process everything, and then you can try talking to her." Nick advised, watching him closely before he turned, walking towards the door. "And next time, treat her like the wonderful woman she is, not like a replacement."

Matt nodded slowly, begrudgingly, knowing his brother was right, the despair turning into a silent, constant pain. The room around him, which had once been a haven of love and shared memories, now seemed like an empty, desolate space. The mattress beneath his body, where both of their bodies lay together just the day before, now felt like an icy surface, sending horrible shivers through his body.

His mind betrayed him by making him remember the moments when he had treated Y/N with indifference and neglect, moments that he now saw with painful clarity. Each memory was like a stab to the heart, revealing the depth of his callousness. Y/N's smiles that he had taken for granted, the nights she waited up for him while he lost himself in thoughts of the past, the comparisons...

He could now see the small changes in her expression, the way her eyes sparkled less, how her smile became rarer with each passing day. She was withdrawing, and he was blindly contributing to that withdrawal.

Sitting there, now alone in the room, Matt felt the weight of his own guilt and regret. He realized that he had never made Y/N feel like the most important woman in her life. Instead, he had relegated her to the background, allowing the shadows of his former relationship to contaminate the present. Y/N's love and dedication towards him contrasted painfully with his own indifference.

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[leth-writes]

yandere Tim Drake x meta reader

This is the first part, I'll probably post a second tomorrow!

Summary: you're a meta who struggles to be seen, and Tim thinks you're the most interesting thing he's laid his eyes on for a long time.

Warnings: none, though as always my blog is 18+.

Tim was the only person to really see you. You’d been born a meta, though your powers slowly ramped up through your early childhood; unfortunately you didn’t even get a cool power. You weren’t even fully invincible, just slightly… fuzzy. It was frustrating, how no one would look you in the eye as a kid, at least until it progressed to most people not even being able to look at your face. You felt like half a person, like a silhouette without the details penciled in.

Then, as you got older, it got worse and worse. Suddenly, your own parents were forgetting you. You’d go to get dinner only to find none left, they almost gave your bed away, most of your clothes got donated… you learned quickly to keep your personal possessions close to your chest to avoid them being given out at the first chance. They could barely remember your name even when they could see you, always messing it up by a few letters. It was even worse at school. You found yourself often having your desk given away to new students, being forced to sit on the floor and try to get your work done, and your teacher always managed to misplace your homework. Eventually, the other students would attempt to walk right through you, as though you were a ghost and not a real person.

Maybe you were a ghost, maybe there was something wrong with you. Maybe you’d died and gone to hell after a life of sin… you couldn’t imagine God being good if they’d condemn you to this living, waking, purgatory. Eventually, you’d been completely kicked out of the house. You’d come home one day, only to find your whole family gone; they’d moved without you. The realization that you’d been erased from their eyes at the snap of a figure only left you hollow.

The hunger to be seen, to be known, left a giant gaping maw in your stomach, all teeth and gnarled, twisted flesh. It was horrid, this living, breathing, monster eating away at you until you couldn’t breathe or blink, curled up in the small, ragged blanket you’d found one day after dumpster diving. You often spent hours just laying on your side in an alley, praying to be released from your suffering, only to fail over and over again. It was horrible, but it was your life.

Everything changed when you met him. You’d been sneaking into Gotham Academy, mainly to use their bathrooms to shower and change into some spare clothes you planned to steal. You took the shortcut through the library, looking for something good to read to distract you from the gawping hunger growing steadily, trying to feed it so it wouldn’t consume you whole, when you heard the clearing of a throat. As always, you assumed it was just some rich kid with a mild case of the sniffles ditching class to read magazines in the corner.

You were wrong.

Suddenly, there was a hand on your shoulder. A hand, on your shoulder! It was the first time you’d been touched in 2 years. You whirled around and threw yourself into the chest of the boy who’d grasped your shoulder, the force of you colliding with him causing him to take a step back and readjust his weight, letting out a soft “oof!”. Tears streamed down your face, the hungry maw gnawing at you practically overtaking you.

The boy let out a gentle sigh, slowly raising the still outstretched arm to pat at your back awkwardly.

“Hey, are you… okay?” He asked, tentatively.

You realized you were still clawing at him like a wounded animal, and quickly stepped away, clearing your throat and looking down.

“Sorry, it’s just… been a while since someone hugged me, I guess I forgot what it felt like?” you said sheepishly, looking down and away.

“It’s alright, I was just wondering if you were new here? I haven’t seen you around campus before…” He started hesitantly, stepping closer. Shit, you couldn’t let him know you didn’t attend the school, or he’d call the cops on you! Who knows how long you’d be left in a quiet, dingy cell, hands cuffed together, before they remembered they’d put you there!

“Yeah, yeah, I’m new. It’s my first day and I got a bit lost… Silly me, huh?” You said, laughing awkwardly and rubbing your arm.

You looked up at him for the first time. Shit. It was Tim fucking Drake, heir to the Wayne and Drake empires, and practical king of the school. He ruled with an iron fist, blackmailing bullies and solving problems; even as an outsider, you couldn’t deny the power he held. The way he acted, you knew he was aware of his power as well. He was dressed in a rumpled uniform, something that would normally be a suspendable offence, but he managed to get away with it. He was leaning back, tie loose and shirt untucked partially, hair messy and fluffy. The sun filtered gently through the arched windows, a rare sunny day, illuminating the soft brown undertones of his hair and shining on his pale, exhausted looking face. He had deep eye bags but was otherwise unblemished, and the lightest green eyes you’d ever seen, almost sickly green.

Looking at him made you uncomfortable; it’d been years since you’d been able to talk to another person. His eyes glinted and his face slackened, looking stern and serious.

“No you’re not.” He said, voice low and threatening.

“W-Yes I am! I just don’t have my paperwork in yet!” You stuttered, backing into the bookcase and holding your hands up as if to defend against a physical blow. He sighed and shook his head, once again stepping into your personal space. “No you aren’t. I would’ve recognized you. I know everyone in this school; you don’t even have a uniform on.” He continued, glancing out the window as if uninterested.

Fuck, what should you do? You could run, but you had the feeling he’d be able to catch you… Or you could try and lie again, but he did seem pretty certain… Maybe you should just confess?

“Fine. I don’t go here. I’m just… I just need to use the bathroom, okay?” You hedged, looking away as though embarassed. It was best not to confess your status as a meta, for fear of Batman showing up to arrest you; you’d heard he had a vendetta against metas for some reason.

Tim nodded, looking satisfied. “Finally, the truth. Let’s go.” He stepped away, grabbing your wrist and pulling you gently along. You dragged your feet, sputtering, trying to stop him. “where are we going?” You asked him, incredulously. “We’re going to get you some clothes, my treat, and a shower. I can’t have you wandering around like that, you’ll never fit in. Besides, you’re the only interesting thing I’ve seen all month.”

You were so excited to finally be seen you didn’t even question why he referred to you as a thing instead of a person.

[wyniepooh]

aaron

hotch doesn't really like when fellow members of the team calls him by his first name. for you, however, maybe he can make an exception.

traumatized!hotch core, mentions of stabbing and TW: foyet 😔. The team investigates a case that reminds hotch of f*yet, he is not well and reader sees right through him. bau!reader, hurt/comfort/fluff that turns into something a lil more towards the end slightly bc it’s hotch so i can’t help myself .

hotch preferred when everyone called him by his last name. he never explicitly said it, but it was an unspoken rule of sorts. whether it was hotchner, hotch, or even whatever nickname penelope often came up with, he didn’t mind. as long as it wasn’t aaron.

'aaron' felt too personal to use with his co-workers. too intimate. as much as you guys were like a family, hearing aaron come out of spencer’s mouth would be as strange as a quiet crime scene.

and hell, was this crime scene hectic. the aftermath of a negotiation involving drawn weapons was always hazy— body overfilled with adrenaline and running on approximately three hours of sleep. all the law enforcement agents you could think of was present, interviewing people, collecting samples. all the lights and voices didn't help with the anxiety. but this scenario in particular had everyone scrambling to collect their thoughts.

hotch, especially. the mo of the unsub was eerily similar to that of foyet— the intricate stabbing that ensured the victim suffered long and hard but was still conscious enough to feel every inch of the next stab. the whole team was aware of the elephant stealing all the oxygen in the room, but no one really knew what to say or do given hotch’s constant stern affirmation that he was fine.

and so the whole team walked into the local police department in silence, hotch leading as the rest of you trailed behind. tired of the crickets practically sounding, you cleared your throat and exclaimed,

“so, does anyone want to get some food? i saw an authentic taco sta-“

your words trailed off as your eyes followed the figure in front of you, who was walking away haggardly towards the washrooms. you turned back towards your teammates, all of them shrugging and letting out a sigh. eventually, they all walked away with a promise to fulfill your hungry request and disappeared to their work stations.

you stood outside the bathrooms for at least five minutes, taking a step forward, then back. forward, then back. finally, you shook your head quickly, straightened your shoulders, and pushed the door into the room.

"h-hey! this is the men's-"

you didn't bother to acknowledge the young police officer by the urinal who was frantically pulling up his pants. you simply lifted an extended arm and nodded to silence him. you walked to the front of the stall where you spotted hotch's perfectly polished shoes, and stopped. once the guy left, you knocked on the door.

“hotch? i know you’re in there.”

silence. you began tapping your foot and crossed your arms, blowing out a rush of air. exasperated, you repeated again, “hotchner. open up. please.”

a click enabled you to release a breath of relief, the door opening to reveal hotch sitting on the closed toilet, head looking down with his hands crossed in between his legs.

“listen… i know you said you’re fine and that you're good to keep going, but we both know that’s bullshit. we know you. too well, even. we can tell that you're struggling, whether you like it or not. it’s obvious this case has brought up…”

your voice progressively got more silent as you noticed the response you got. silence. it wasn’t until you stopped talking did you realize his rapidly rising shoulders for each breath he took, and the way he fidgeted with his hands to hide the shaking. you immediately knelt down to his level, putting both hands on his shoulder.

“hotch? hey-“

“i'm sorry,” he mumbled.

“what?”

“i’ve been dismissive the whole day. i want to say it’s simply because i didn’t sleep last night, or the night before that, and that is part of it but… the reason i haven’t been able to sleep is because of the case. i thought the therapy was enough, i thought it would be fine once i was distracted with work,” he sighed, “i know i’ve made you all uncomfortable and i don’t know what to do about it. i wish i-“

“hotch.”

“-could just open up. i’m so sor-“

“aaron.”

he stopped his sentence midway and found your concerned eyes.

you chuckled, “if you say sorry one more time, i’m going to really make you sorry.”

it took a second for aaron to muster out a laugh as well, but eventually he did, and the sound put a genuine smile on your face.

still kneeling, your hand came up to softly caress his jaw. “don’t apologize for how you’re feeling, aaron. i’ll admit that the atmosphere is a little more tense than usual, but let's be honest here," you dropped your hand from his face, “we're all tense. we're profilers, for gods sake. what are we but tense?"

aaron gave a nod of approval, his lip curving into a small smile.

"and also, don't feel obligated to talk to us. everyone has their own coping methods. we're just reminding you that if you do need a person to talk to... we're here to lend an ear. and of course, we hope you remember that it's more than okay to take a break or admit you're uncomfortable. we get it. we won’t judge.”

you feigned a thinking face, “well, rossi might judge a little, but at least we won’t!”

he snickered and nodded again at your words, taking a deep breath. his hands had stopped shaking and his breaths seem to be more regulated. you smiled at him one last time before the both of you began to stand up.

as aaron straightened himself, he realized something. he didn't like the others calling him by his first name, but there was something different about the way his name sounded rolling off of your tongue. in fact, he would do anything to hear you say 'aaron' again.

before you could both exit, the stall door behind you suddenly closed. a surprised ‘oh’ left your lips, and aaron looked equally as confused. the inclosed space pushed you closer to him, and just for a second, you saw his eyes flicker to your lips. you expected him to open the door like a gentlemen or apologize for the close proximity, but nothing ever came. you opened your mouth to say something, but all you could breathe was a quiet whisper of his name before he crashed his lips onto yours.

-

a/n: the washroom stall door was truly a paid actor.

[roxygen22]

Sick Timothee with fem reader as caretaker plz ❤️

Thanks to You

Summary: Fem!reader takes care of feverish Laurie

A/N: Decided to write using Timothee's Laurie as the main character because the time period makes fevers much more scary.

Laure's restless stirring awakened you. You blinked, unable to focus since it was still dark out. You reached your hand out to place gentle, comforting pressure on his arm, as you often did if he was suffering a nightmare, but instantly drew it back in shock. He was putting off more heat than your fireplace.

You grabbed the oil lamp on your nightstand and raised the flame. There was a sheen of sweat blanketing his forehead and chest, though he was shivering like he had been out in the snow. "Fever," you breathed out worriedly.

You jumped out of bed and quickly set to work gathering supplies. You immersed a cloth in water and wrung it out to place on his forehead. You rubbed the herb poultice Mrs. March had shown you how to make onto the soles of his feet and covered them with socks. He shifted his head side to side, mumbling your name.

"[Y/N], [Y/N]," he muttered weakly.

You ran your fingers through his damp curls. "I'm here, my love. I'm here."

"[Y/N]?" Laurie's glazed eyes opened, but they never focused on you.

He's delirious, you thought to yourself. You looked out the window, countenance falling as you realized the blizzard meant you could not send for help. The whole town was snowed in. "You have to get better, Laurie," you stated as you cradled your slight baby bump with your free hand.

He became slightly more alert as the dawn arrived. You took the opportunity to get him to drink some water. He was shaking so much from the throes of fever that he could not hold the cup without spilling. You sat beside him to support his head and hold the cup to his lips. You were grateful to see that at least some water made it into his mouth. Exhausted, he flopped his head back onto the pillow and looked up at you.

"Y-you should k-keep your distance. You d-don't n-need to get sick, too," Laurie said through chattering teeth.

"Nonsense. Who else is going to take care of you, hmm?" You half-smiled, not quite enough to reach your eyes. You wet the cloth again and gently wiped his neck, chest, and arms. "Are you hungry?" you asked when you finished, but there was no response. He had already fallen asleep again. You surveyed the dark purple circles under his eyes and the pallor of his skin.

You rose from your perch by Laurie's side to start some soup for when he woke again. He came to about an hour later. You helped him sit up against the headboard so he could eat. He scowled when you attempted to spoon feed him. "Come on, now. You need to eat something to keep your strength, and I'm sure you don't want to spill hot soup in your lap," you chided. He rolled his eyes and acquiesced. You chuckled. At least he was feeling good enough to give you an attitude.

The food did him some good, because soon he wanted to get up and move around. You helped him to the front room to his armchair. While he read by the fire, you changed the damp sheets. It wasn't long before he was ready to lay down again. The two of you repeated this cycle throughout the day.

When night came once more, the fever ravaged again. You covered him with every blanket in the house and practically laid on top of him to warm him up. The shaking eventually relented, giving both of you a reprieve. You fell asleep sitting next to the bed, holding his hand while your head rested on your arm.

You woke to the feeling of a hand playing with your hair. You groggily raised your head and were greeted by Laurie's smile. "Good morning, my dove."

You smiled at the nickname and placed a kiss on his forehead. "Your fever broke," you said in relief. Tears welled up in the corners of your eyes. "I was so worried."

"I'm alright, thanks to you."

<><><><><>

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess

@bluizh

@jindongdongie

@groovyqueer

[tortillamastersblog]

➶A big misunderstanding - Part 2 | Kate Bishop➴

Pairing: Kate Bishop x reader

Warnings: minor injuries

Summary: Following your realization, you go to find Kate to talk about your feelings…

Part 1

________________________________________________

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.,” I say, “Please notify me as soon as Clint and Kate return from their mission.”

The A.I. acknowledges my request and I get to work at my desk, attempting to shrink the ever growing stack of mission reports.

The hours tick by without my notice and the next thing I know, I’m slumped over the desk, my cheek pressing into the keyboard of my laptop.

I snap up and rub my sore cheek, groaning at the sight of the document on my laptop. It’s now filled with random letters and symbols and I know it’ll take ages to delete all the gibberish.

“Y/N?”

I yelp at F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s disembodied voice, realizing that it was the A.I. that woke me from my semi-comfortable sleep.

“Yes?” I ask, my voice gruff from not using it.

“Mr. Barton and Ms. Bishop have returned.”

I check my watch and get to my feet. It’s four in the morning, three days after they left, so the mission must have taken longer than anticipated.

“Thank you, F.R.I.D.A.Y.,” I say, leaving my room in search of Kate. I know now might not be the best time to bring up my feelings, but if I don’t do it as soon as possible, I think I might actually explode.

The reports were a good distraction over the past couple days after my talk with Wanda, but now that Kate’s back I need to go find her.

I search the kitchen first, figuring she might be hungry after missing dinner but she’s not there.

Next I go to the locker rooms, but she isn’t there either, so she must already be in her room.

I walk there with trembling hands, not exactly sure how I’m going to initiate the conversation. Do I ask her about her feelings? Do I just straight up tell her about mine? Should I ask about the mission first?

When I get to her door, I notice it’s slightly ajar, allowing me a glimpse inside. She’s standing in front of the full length mirror mounted to the wall opposite her bed.

She’s dressed in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie and her hair is still damp from the shower she must have taken.

“Come onnn!” she grumbles, fumbling with something sticking to her finger.

I narrow my eyes and carefully push the door open to get a better look; it a butterfly closure strip.

Whenever she tries to unstick it from one of her fingers, it immediately sticks to another and with each passing second her frustration grows.

Her shoulders are tense and her nostrils are flared, but I don’t make my presence known until the strip folds in on itself, rendering it useless.

“Hey,” I say quietly, knocking on the doorframe.

Kate’s head snaps up and her eyes widen in surprise. “Y-Y/N… What are you doing? Why are you still up?”

All of my earlier worries fly out the window when I notice the cut on her temple and I move forward without thinking.

“Here, let me,” I say, grabbing a new butterfly strip from the opened package.

Kate watches, dumbfounded, and gulps when I brush a strand of hair behind her ear, away from the cut. It’s not particularly deep, but it will scar if it’s not taken care of properly.

“Didn’t anyone show you how to do this?” I ask with no hint of annoyance in my voice, getting to work on cleaning the wound with a sterile wipe which happened to lay beneath the butterfly strips on the dresser next to the mirror.

“Clint did… once,” Kate admits, looking up at me through her eyelashes while I work. I’m a little taller than her, which is something I only now realized because we’ve never actually stood this close to each other before. “But I forgot and I’ve been embarrassed to ask for help ever since.”

A wave of sympathy rushes over me and I pause for a moment to look her in the eyes and smile reassuringly. “You shouldn’t be embarrassed. It’s better to ask for help than to suffer in silence,” I say without realizing how deep that sounded until it’s already too late.

Kate snorts softly and lets me continue working. It’s oddly intimate, however I can’t say I mind. It makes me feel weirdly fuzzy, knowing I can help her and that she’s, for once, not trying to run away from me.

Every once in a while she winces while I clean her cut and some smaller scrapes, but she doesn’t tell me to stop, so I keep going until everything’s been cleaned and the cut has been successfully closed.

“There you go,” I mumbled, tilting her chin to the side to get a better look at my work. “Much better.”

My eyes drift over her injuries and I’m quite satisfied with my work until I get distracted by her eyes. Those damn blue, captivating eyes.

She’s watching me intently and when I don’t make a move to create more space between us, she lets out a shaky breath.

“You haven’t answered my question yet,” she whispers, and I’m so lost in her that it takes a second for my brain to process what she just said.

“What question?” I ask, distracted by the way her eyes dart from my eyes to my lips and back.

“Why are you still up?” She breathes into the small space that is left between us.

“I—“

I waited for days for you to come home so I can ask you on a date? No…

I stayed up because I can’t stop thinking about you and just had to tell you how I feel? No!

I had to tell you I love you? No! What the hell is wrong with you, Y/N?! It’s way too early for that!

I don’t get a chance to finish my sentence when I’m suddenly pulled down by a hand grabbing the back of my neck, a pair of soft lips landing on my own.

I gasp in surprise but quickly sink into the feeling, my hands finding their way to Kate’s hips.

The kiss is short because Kate pulls back a second later to tease. “You think too much.”

I laugh in her face and brush my nose against hers. “You’re one to talk, Ms. smacks-me-in-the-face-with-a-spatula, Ms. knocks-over-a-bunch-of-bows-at-the-sight-of-my-abs, Ms—“

Kate groans and clamps her free hand over my mouth. “Alright, alright! You’ve made your point.”

I smirk and lick her hand on a whim, causing her to shriek and wipe her palm on my shoulder. “Ew! Don’t do that!”

“What do you mean, ew?! You were just kissing me!” I exclaim in mock offense, pulling her closer by her hips.

Kate huffs and tries to act annoyed, but grins eventually when she counter-argues. “That’s different!”

I wiggle my eyebrows playfully and nose forward so my lips are brushing over hers. “Is that so?”

Kate’s eyes flutter shut and her grip on the back of my neck tightens when she hums an affirmative. Then her lips are back on mine, but this time, the kiss deepens and before long we’re stumbling across the room until we fall onto her bed.

It’s anything but elegant and in the end her teeth clash against mine and we have to break apart to laugh.

“Sorry,” she chuckles, wiggling around on top of me.

I just smile at her and cup her cheek with one hand, the other still resting on her hip. “It’s okay.”

We stay like that for several moments, watching each other as our heart rates return back to normal. It’s peaceful and quiet, and one of the best moments of my life.

That is until a badly suppressed yawn overcomes Kate, reminding me of how late it is.

“You should get some rest.” I whisper, guiding her off me so I can get up and drape the comforter over her. “You must be exhausted.”

She doesn’t protest, so I quickly tuck her in and turn off the lights until the only source of light that is left is the tiny nightlight in the corner of the room.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” I say, bending down to press a lingering kiss to her forehead.

Kate’s nods and cups my cheeks, keeping me close so she can peck my lips softly. “Before you go…” she says, her thumb tracing over my bottom lip. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

Her eyes search mine in the dim light before she whispers, “Will you go on a date with me?”

I laugh quietly and turn my head to kiss the inside of her wrist. “I’d love to.”

“Good…” She blinks tiredly, obviously on the brink of falling asleep.

I take her hands off my face and squeeze them carefully. “Good night.”

“Good night, Y/N.”

I stay with her until I’m sure she’s drifted off before slipping out of the room, closing the door behind me as quietly as possible.

A smile creeps its way onto my face as I tiptoe back to my own room, and it stays there all the way until I fall asleep in my own bed.

________________________________________________

I hope this does the first part justice…

[love-lilly02]

The Challenge: Chapter 6

Chapter warnings: Talk of insomnia, torture, not eating, depression, brief hyperseuxual mention, physical and mental scars, nightmares (please let me know if i missed any or if any need to be added!)

“MIA”

The words bore into his mind, tore a hole in his frontal lobe. He felt like he was drowning, sinking deeper into a black pit, the dark whispers of your voice and the blaring words of black text against a white screen. 

“MIA”

They haunted him, day and night, hour after hour. when he blinked the words were there, when he ate the hologram of them passed in his view. 

Never, in his life had he had to suffer with someone being marked as MIA. he had dealt with deaths, he had survived both others trauma along side his own. He had watched teammates get blown up, shot down, stabbed dozens of times. 

They all recovered or died. 

None of them went missing. 

None of them haunted him like you did. 

Sometimes, he would hear your voice calling to him. He could be filing paperwork, sitting in the mess hall, doing fucking anything. 

And you were there. 

Asking him to double check your mission reports, wondering what he was doing, if he was hungry, wanted to get something to eat. Sometimes, he would swear on his boys life that you were behind him, sneaking up to scare him like you always did. and he would wait, see if you realized he had heard you coming from a mile away, heard you whisper “scare cam” into your phone camera. He waited and waited, till your calming presence turned into a threatening one, till you weren’t holding a camera but a knife, a gun to his head. 

Those were the worst. That and the nightmares. 

He had stopped sleeping since you left, to afraid of the version of you he saw in his dreams. You terrified him, and not in the good way you used too. You would kick and scream at him, say it was his fault for allowing the mission, his fault for not watching you closer, his fault you disappeared. You would scream and beg the Russians to leave you alone, sob that you didn’t know anything, you had no clue what was going on, who they were, that you just wanted to go home. 

You wanted your boys.

And you would scream for their help, call each of their names in turn. That’s what always got him, hearing your blood curdling scream as you were cut into again, burned again, slapped again. And every time he screamed back, every time he tried to move, tried to help you, but he was rooted in place, stuck in this hell forever. 

Yeah. Sleep became a foreign concept. 

The others noticed. Of course they noticed. Each of them had their own way of dealing with your disappearance, but it showed. Simon would have to double wrap his hands at the gym, Kyle stopped eating for weeks at a time. Johnny was just quiet. 

It scared him. Your loss scared him. It scared him how loosing one person was able to break apart his team, the men who made it through thick and thin. And he had seen these same men live without each other, on solo ops or when one of them was hurt. They missed each other, sure. And it hurt like fuck to not have the other fourth there, like a piece was missing. 

But not this. Never this. 

This was new. This was raw, this was foreign. 

This was hell. 

And as far as he knew, no one was lucky enough to crawl out of it alive. 

Exhaustion tugged at your body, dragging you down with every step.

sleep was a foreign concept, something you abandoned back at the Russian base. 

You abandoned a lot at that base. 

You abandoned them. 

You told yourself that they didn’t care, they didn’t give a fuck if you left the team. They wouldn’t care if you never came back, if you just disappeared without a trace. Protocol stated that, with the way you went out, you were to be declared as MIA for seven years before you could be presumed to be dead. It wouldn’t take you seven years to get back to base, but it would take you way longer to get over what happened. 

Much. Much longer.

It was an illusion, honestly. Something all basic magicians could perform, but not with a grenade. It was that or be shot down, although you were beginning to think being shot was the better option. It was certainly easier to deal with a bullet wound than second degree burns. 

Maybe. You had never been shot before, who were you to know? 

Anything had to be better than this. The burns scraped against the material of your suit, sending your body into intense amounts of pain with every step. It felt like someone was pulling you through a cheese grater, constantly, until you were nothing but shredded meat and skin. 

The price you have to pay to live. 

In order for the “trick” to work, you had to throw the grenade right at your feet. Which meant that your soles and legs were the most burnt, whereas your torso and upper body only suffered mild burns. Your hands were done for, completely charred to the point you could hardly flex your fingers anymore. 

The reasoning behind that was your escape. Once you had thrown the grenade down, you used the five seconds it bought you to flip over the drain cover you were standing next too, effectively falling into the sewers and out of bullet range. 

The cover, however, was red hot from the impact. 

You would take it over being a goner. 

Everyone else probably thought you were dead, or had died from the resulting explosion. You didn’t know if enough blood was left for it to be believable, you hoped so at least, that bought you some time. Immediately upon hitting the water you went radio silent, cringing at the disgusting slop that came up to your waist. Being in the water helped a bit, allowed the burns to be surrounded by something that was at least cool. 

Open air did the exact opposite. 

You weren’t sure exactly where you were, some rural town in Russia, that’s for sure. The only reason you could tell that was because of the signs that you saw every so often, each one written on in their harsh language. Of all the things you studied, Russian was among your least favorite, and while you were conversational you couldn’t read it to save your life. 

A fucking shame, really. 

Which left you to the next best thing, pray to some god for a way out of this hell. 

There was a list of things Johnny McTavish hated to do. It wasn’t a very long list, but it was there, in some corner of his mind. 

He hated being forced to stay still, he hated being told to be quiet when he was overexcited. He hated confined spaces, and— in the wrong situations— he hated being tied up. 

But the number one thing on that list, the thing he despised the absolute most was disappointing his boys. Tied, of course, with making them worry. Just the thought was enough to make him spiral, a fact that had been proven dozens of times. 

And a fact that was not helping his case right now. 

Truth be told, he didn’t mean to switch up on them. He understood that they were used to Johnny always being loud and obnoxious, that it was something they had come to love about him, how even in their worst moments he was able to at least make them smile. 

Which was the problem. This was a pretty bad moment, and he couldn’t even make himself smile. 

And he had tried, honestly. Not in front of the others— he couldn’t embarrass himself like that— but alone, he tried doing some of the things he would do on a good day. Drawing, dancing, cleaning his rifles. 

But he just… couldn’t. 

Johnny was no stranger to depressive episodes, he experienced them all the time in his youth. Of course, back then he would have a quick fuck and make himself feel better, or maybe a few rounds from a few different people, but now adays that old trick didn’t work anymore. Usually he would just stay with Simon, talk it through with him. 

But that wasn’t really possible. Not with this problem. 

He hadn’t realized just how much the team was dependent on your being there, how different things were without your presence. You balanced things out perfectly, acted as a moderator for the four of them. 

It was no surprise they fell for you. Anyone would have, after all. 

It kind of reminded him of some Shakespeare play, or like a hallmark movie. They found you, fell in love, never said anything, and they lost you. 

In any other situation that thought would have made him chuckle. 

Now it just makes him even sadder. 

He wants to help, he wants to do something. He wishes he could make the nightmares Price has go away, he wishes he could make Simon understand that no amount of training could prepare him for the situation you had found yourself in. He wished he could make Gaz eat something, anything, with the thought that you wouldn’t want him to starve, you wouldn’t want anyone to hurt themselves in the way the four of them were doing.

That didn’t stop them from doing it, of course, but he still wished.

Salvation came in the form of a video. 

Gaz had called a mandatory meeting, claiming it was something of the utmost importance. They all met in Prices office, cramping into the small space. 

Soap and Ghost took a seat on the couch, leaning into each other slightly. Price stayed at his desk, mounds of paperwork shoved to the side for Gaz to sit, perched as if he would have to make a run for something at any given moment. 

They stayed quiet for a while, all of them just drinking in the atmosphere. 

This wasn’t unusual, being called into the office like this. Usually it was by Price, who wanted to either scold them for their behavior or inform them of a mission. The only difference was your absence, your spot on the doorway glaringly empty. It felt like a black hole, sucking them deeper and deeper into their depression. The tense silence of the room didn’t help at all, and it was making each of them antsy. 

“Right.” Gaz said simply. “Gonna keep this brief, then.”

He removed a computer— which the others hadn’t noticed was there— from his lap and placed it on the desk for everyone to see. A video was pulled up, paused on a black screen. 

“Not before her junior year, but it’s bloody close.” Gaz mumbled, clicking start on the video. 

After a few seconds of silence, your face came up on the screen, sitting next to a girl they don’t recognize. She begins talking first, introducing herself as Amy. Your voice fills the room next, proudly saying your name and grade, the very beginning of your junior year. You opened your mouth to keep going, before Amy turned to you and laughed. 

“Fuck wait I forgot my grade.” You stared at her for a while, and then rolled your eyes, cutting the footage. The video resumed in much of the same fashion, and they realized what this was. 

A blooper reel, for something you had tried auditioning for. 

As the video continued, it slowly became more clear what the audition was— a performance at your school. You and your friend kept goofing off during the recording, resulting in multiple takes of one clip, regardless of how long it was. For some of them, you would press record and step away from the camera, then just start laughing uncontrollably. 

It took a long time to realize that they had forgotten your laugh. Having gone weeks without hearing it was hard, and watching a younger, clearly happier you laugh so freely was odd for them to see. Your face was just about clear, missing some of the scars you now possessed from your years of experience with field work. 

You were right, you did look different. 

“Where did you find this?” Price asked, leaning forward. The glasses he used to read had long ago been thrown on the desk, all his attention on the computer in front of him. 

“Did some digging.” Was all Gaz said. 

It was all the answer they needed. 

They watched the video all the way through the end, and when it finished they watched it again. And again. Till the sound of your laugh was engraved in their minds, till they were able to smile along with your jokes without having to wait for your explanation, till it felt like you were right in the room with them. 

Finally, the video stopped repeating, and the office was quiet again. Simon tugged off the mask and ran a hand over his face, signing loudly. “She’s got seven years before we can jump to conclusions.”

“I think if i tried to jump right now, I’d fall flat on my face.” Price said, leaning back in his chair. The office went silent again, before a quiet chuckle came from Soap. He covered his moth quickly, failing to suppress his giggles at Price's statement. 

If there was one thing the boys loved about Johnny it’s that his laughter was infectious. Once he started laughing, Gaz was smiling at him, and Ghost was smiling at Gaz’s smiling at Soap’s laughter. Eventually they were all giggling, each at each other in turn.  

“Fuck—“ Soap said, wiping a tear from his eye. “Even when she’s not ‘ere she’s makin’ us laugh.” 

“She’ll be back. Seven years couldn’t keep our girl away from us.”

“Our girl, eh?” Simon asked, throwing an arm around Johnny’s shoulders. Soap leaned into Simon’s side, smiling against his chest. 

“Our girl.” Price confirmed, nodding. “No matter what happens, challenge be dammed, she’s our girl. Nothing’s changing it.”

“Excuse me sir? Do you speak english?”

“We no take foreigners-“

“Please—“ You begged, looking at him with your best puppy dog eyes. You watch as his gaze trails up and down your body, stopping at the marks on your hands. "Please I really need your help.”

The man looks around for a moment, double checking that no one is around before he grabs you by your collar and pulls you inside harshly. He closes the door, grumbling for you to sit in the kitchen.

You follow his instruction, taking a seat in the too cramped space. You watch as he moves around the room, throwing things into a pot and getting different medicines from the cabinets, mumbling to himself in Russian all the time.

After a few moments of tense silence, the man places a small container full of white ointment on the table.

"Will help with burns," He says.

As if that explains anything?

You let it go, however and smile at him in thanks. The moment you put the cream on your hands you fight the urge to scream at just how badly it burns, opting instead to bite your tounge till you can taste the blood in your mouth.

The man watches you struggle, and takes a seat across from you.

“You American spy?”

“No, sir, I just work for the army.” 

The man nods, standing up “You will have more burns, I leave you to apply the rest.”

He walks out of the kitchen, and you hear the closing of a door some feet away. For a brief moment, you consider the thought that he might have cameras in the kitchen, that he's watching you on his phone through the system.

Just as quickly, you dismiss the thought. The man is absolutely huge, not Simon level but pretty close. If he wanted to do something to you he would have.

As it did with your hands, the ointment burned on each part of your body. It was like getting blown up all over again, and you kept your teeth grit so as to not scream out. Once you finish, however, you do feel better.

Slightly.

You leave the kitchen, wrapping the tatters of your suit around your body in a makeshift robe. Just outside of the room you see a set of clothes laid out, as well as a pair of gloves that look slightly too large for your hand size.

By the time you finish dressing, the man is back, carrying some vegetables with him.

“Who do you work for?” He asks, grabbing a knife from a drawer. You watch in awe as he makes quick work of the mound of food that was in his hands, throwing it into the pot without a second glance.

“A task force, sir.”

“The one four one?”

The room is dead quiet. For a moment, the only sound that can be heard is the boiling of water, and you take a cautious step back towards the front door. Running isn't something you want to do, and you're pretty sure it's not something you're 100% capable of, but if you had to get out of here you were willing to risk your health further.

Anyways, you still had that ointment. Technically that's all you really needed, and he wouldn't have given it to you if he didn't want you to use it.

“How did you-"

“Nikolai." He interrupts, holding out his hand. "I worked with them a long time ago."

You remember the name, it was heard in dozens of the stories Gaz and Price have told you about their missions before you joined. You take his hand, biting back a wince at the sting of your burns against the gloves.

“Do you think you could help me get back?” 

AN: VERY IMPORTANT INFORMATION

Hey guys, so while technically this is late i was hoping we could just ignore that fact for a while. If you couldn't tell by the contents of this chapter, this fic is going to take a darker turn than i even thought (this whole thing is written on impulse, i only have the reader's backstory planned and that's it) Future chapters will feature mental health issues, and some abuse so i just wanted to release an early viewer discretion to warn anyone who wouldn't be comfortable reading that stuff.

I promise i'll give you guys a fluffy BTS to make up for this angst bomb. Hope you enjoyed!

My Masterlist

[pygmi-cygni]

Snack

Poe dameron x reader, fluffy blurb, not edited

haha get it cause he's a snack lmao i'll see myself out thanks

You swatted a pair of wandering hands as you cranked on the engine, crescent wrench crammed between your teeth. Hoping a death glare would make up for your temporary muteness, you scowled at Poe. He pouted, prodding again at your sides.

"'M bithy," you mumbled around a mouthful of metal, "go 'way."

The poor X wing hacked up another billow of black smog, and you wedged yourself back into your tiny workspace. Defeated, Poe grumbled away, stomping across the grassland to his ship.

The two of you had been stranded for about an hour as you hastily attempted to fix the faulty engine in your X-wing. One of the mechs had skipped out on a full run-through before takeoff, and you were pissed. This wasn't a difficult assignment; just drills across the Castor Sea, but you'd done one barrel roll too many and your X-wing started to spiral.

Once the adrenaline was over, you were miserably clanking around under the hood, trying to assess the damage while suffering in the heat.

And defending advances from your adorable but incessant copilot.

Poe was a cutie, but he didn't realize that though the ship was gonna be fine, you weren't in a cuddly mood. He'd been touching and nuzzling the entire time you were working.

After the fifth strike you'd had enough.

"Poe, this wasn't an opportunity for a makeout session. My ship is having an asthma attack, and I need to finish this up so we can leave. We can hang out later, promise." You kissed his cheek as an attempt to placate him, before returning to your grimy task.

He tried to stick his hand back in your vest, and you lightly shoved him off.

"Dameron-"

"But I'm hungry," he protested, tugging at your sleeve. You threw the screwdriver on the ground and faced him. He was in puppy-dog mode now, cow eyes sparkling to their full capacity.

"What? The hell does that have to do with me? If you let me finish, we can go get you dinner, yeah?"

"No," he pouted. "I saw you shove a chocolate ration in your vest this morning."

You blinked. What...oh. "Seriously?"

Poe was playing with your tac vest straps. "Well, I dunno, it's hot and I'm tired 'n I wanted a snack, so-"

You groaned, rubbing your face in your hands. You tried to mask the grin twitching onto your face at his antics. Poe was always snacky, you were surprised he hadn't smuggled a few pieces into his ship for the ride.

Sighing, you made a show of undoing your gloves, tucking them into your belt, wiping the grease from your hands, taking as long as possible while Poe practically hopped with anticipation.

Suddenly, you collided with Poe's chest and your flight vest was gone. He was so hasty that it unzipped your flight suit in the process.

You yelped at the sudden exposure, looking at him with a mix of shock and betrayal. He paid your obvious embarrassment no mind, rifling through the pockets in search of the small square of foil.

"Give me my shirt back, I am literally half naked."

He raised his gaze to you, smirking. "Why would I want to do that?" He dramatically dragged his eyes over you, and your cheeks pinked.

"Just- grab your snack and gimme my vest, I'm almost done-"

Poe hummed thoughtfully, tossed the vest on the ground and made a move for you, nibbling and pecking along your jaw. His stubble was scratchy against your soft shoulders. You bit down a giggle at his feathery kisses, wriggling in his grasp.

"Oh, so it was a ruse then, you conniving little bastard-"

He laughed into your neck, warm breath ticklish under your ear. You took the distraction and stumbled backwards a few steps. Poe frowned, grabbing at your waist and pulling you back for another kiss.

"No, but the chocolate melted and you'll be an adequate replacement," he mumbled, lips roving over your grin.

"Adequate?"

He covered your lips warmly, hands curling around your hips. "Give me a minute, I haven't finished tasting. I'll have a better idea soon."

"Just kiss me, you idiot."

i thought it was cute idk lmk your thoughts xox love you!

[zhonyua]

bittersweet memories

modern!au neuvillette x fem!reader

context: neuvillette works too much and your daughter misses him.

content: fluffy, angst/comfort because i live for it, ooc neuvillette maybe.

notes: you and neuvillette are married and have a daughter named "kiara", neuvillette's job subjects aren't mentioned.

neuvillette is a busy man. he spends most of his time working. that can be a little stressful for him, but the person who suffers the most from it, it’s your daughter.

she’s eight years old, and sometimes she just misses her daddy so much, that you need to be creative to distract her.

well, you can’t blame her. when neuvillette leaves for work, she’s still sleeping, and when he comes back home, she’s already sleeping. they just spend time together at weekends and, sometimes, and even that can be hard when neuvillette needs to work extra hours.

you’re always explaining that “it’s not daddy’s fault”, but she’s just a kid after all.

that’s how the whole house ended up stressed.

you woke up with the sunlight, invading your room through the windows, bothering your eyes. you patted your side at the bed, noticing the empty spot there. sighing, you realized that you didn’t see your husband leaving again.

after some minutes of laziness, you got up. you made the bed and dressed something more comfortable than your pajamas. finally, you went to the kitchen, not before checking your daughter at her room, who was sleeping soundly.

you began to prepare your breakfast, distracted by your thoughts. you checked your phone a couple times to see if your husband had sent any message to you, but the only thing he said was a “have a good day” and an emoji.

soon, you heard small steps approaching the kitchen and you smiled without noticing. you felt a pair of small eyes staring at you and you noticed kiara peeking at you from behind the wall. she looked adorable with her little pajamas and her messy hair.

“good morning, sleepyhead.” you said, with a warm smile. as soon as she noticed that you saw her, she ran towards you, making you pick her up quickly and carefully so she couldn’t fall and hurt herself.

“good morning, mommy.” she said with a sleepy voice. her small arms wrapping around your neck as she buried her face on your shoulder.

you chuckled at her cuteness, putting her down to sit at her chair on the table. you kissed the top of her head, nuzzling her hair and messing it even more.

“are you hungry?” you asked, chuckling when her eyes shined and she nodded eagerly. you put the breakfast on the table, organizing everything so it would look more appetizing. kiara's little eyes looked hungrily at everything.

you prepared her plate, putting a small amount of the pancakes on it, pouring some syrup, making sure that it would look like a spiral on top of the pancakes, because you knew she liked it. you patted her head, before warning her to be careful while eating, so she wouldn’t choke or get her clothes dirty.

then, you prepared your own plate, before joining your daughter at the table. she was munching her pancakes with her eyes closed, while savoring the sweetness of the food. you couldn’t ignore the fact that she looked exactly like your husband. the same white locks and peaceful eyes. It was like having a small version of neuvillette.

after you two finished eating, you started to get her ready for school. she was a well-behaved child. she let you dress her and brush her hair, while you two talked about casual things like a little friend at school or a different bird she saw outside.

finally, she was ready, dressed with her school uniform and with her backpack.

“honey, smile for the picture.” you said, grabbing your phone. you had this healthy habit of taking pictures of her everyday and sending them to neuvillette, so he could feel closer to her. kiara looked away, shyly, but smiled softly at your phone, because she knew that her daddy would be proud to see her so obedient.

you sent the picture to neuvillette, but of course he didn’t see it. maybe he was too busy at work.

you took your daughter to school, then you went home again.

your days were a bit boring. you spent most part of the day alone. some times you hung out with your friend, lumine and some times you just stayed at your house watching movies.

you lived a “princess life”. your husband worked really hard to give the best life ever to you and your daughter. you couldn’t be more grateful for him.

that day was just a normal boring day. soon, it was time to get your daughter at school, and you was anxious to be with someone at that lonely house.

she came the whole way home talking about school, her friends and her teachers. you listened carefully to everything she said and even chuckled when she talked about some funny stories she heard.

when you two got home, she looked around the house, as if looking for something, but then she sighed. you noticed it quickly and your frowned.

“what is it, dear? what are you looking for?” you asked, putting her backpack away and getting even more curious when she pouted.

“i thought daddy was already home.” kiara said in a whisper, looking down at the floor. you sighed, before kneeling down in front of her.

“oh, my dear. i already told you daddy just gets home when it’s dark outside, didn’t i?” you spoke in a soft tone, caressing her cheek. she nodded sadly.

“i know…” she said, her happy smile disappearing almost instantly. you knew you had to think fast of a way to distract her.

“hey, what do say about watching a movie?” you asked, lifting her chin and looking at her eyes carefully. she nodded, but she still looked upset.

you wondered why she had changed her mood so fast. you walked to the living room, setting everything up to watch your movie together. the little girl followed you, sitting at the couch with a sad pout.

you sat next to her, resting your hand on her shoulder.

“hey.” you called her, smiling softly and reassuringly. “what’s wrong, my love?” you asked in a soft tone, as if asking in a higher voice could make her even more sad.

she looked down and got silent for a moment, before speaking again. “today at school, my friends were talking about their dads.” she started, with a low and slow voice. you held your breath, already imagining what she would say next. “they said that they do all sorts of things together and that they see each other everyday and every time!” she said, looking at you with wide eyes. “how is that even possible?”

you swallowed hard, not knowing what to say without hurting her feelings.

“hm, you see, maybe their dads don’t need to work like your daddy do.” you said, carefully, measuring your words. you could see the tears forming on her eyes and your heart skipped a beat.

“i wish daddy didn’t work.” she said, a heavy voice and tears rolling down her cheeks, as she looked down. you instantly got worried, pulling her closer to you.

“oh, my love, don’t cry.” your voice sounded hurt to see your little child like that. she looked so upset. you pulled her into a hug and she buries her tiny body on yours, sobbing softly and quietly.

“does daddy not like being with me? is that why he works all the time?” she sobbed into her words. you squeezed her a little tighter, caressing her back in a soothing way.

“of course not, my dear. he loves you so much.” you said and you felt how her sobs got louder. “he loves you too much, that’s why he works a lot.” you kept saying, and she grabbed your shirt firmly.

“then, why?” she asked, her voice breaking. she looked so hurt and upset that she didn’t even look like an eight years old child. “i miss him. i miss daddy.” she kept sobbing and saying things like that, while you kept trying to soothe her.

after a few minutes, she stopped crying and you noticed that she fell asleep in your arms. you stroked her cheek with your thumb, your heart heavy. your daughter was breathing more softly now, her little hands grabbing your shirt, but softer than before.

you carried her to her room, very carefully so she wouldn’t wake up, putting her on her bed, covering her with her soft and warm blankets. you kissed her forehead, before leaving her alone with her dreams.

you knew that you couldn’t talk about that to neuvillette. he would be totally devastated. you decided that you wouldn’t comment about that to him.

the night was already settled. you were sitting on your couch, watching a movie, when you heard the door opening. you tilted your head to look at the door and you saw a familiar silhouette, putting his shoes aside.

you quickly walked towards him, with a smile on your face. neuvillette put his suitcase down, to hug your waist and nuzzles his nose on your hair.

“welcome home, love.” you hummed, placing a kiss on his neck and feeling how the spot warmed.

“hello, my dear.” he said, pulling away to look at your face. his smile disappeared as soon as he laid his eyes on you. “is something wrong?”

ah, right. you almost forgot how observant he was. his examining skills were insane. just a few seconds and he could sense that you weren’t fine. you tried your best to smile.

“hm? what do you mean?” you asked, innocently. His eyes narrowed even more. you gulped.

you couldn’t tell him about what happened, he would he heartbroken, but you couldn’t keep lying to him, because you knew you wouldn’t convince him.

“it’s kiara.” you said, biting your lips and looking away. “she had a rough day at school. you know, kids stuff.” you decided to change the truth a little.

neuvillette sighed, clearly upset. “i wish i could stay with her.” his voice sounded a bit hurt. you knew how he craved to be with your daughter, to hug her and to tell her that everything was going to be okay.

you put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. “it’s not your fault.” you said, giving him a soothing smile. he smiled back at you, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“i'm going to see her, alright?” neuvillette said, before pulling away from you and walking towards the girl's room. he always did that, even if she was asleep.

when he entered the room and saw kiara sleeping so peacefully, he felt a familiar peace inside his chest. he slowly sat on the edge of the bed, watching his daughter's features, as if he wanted to remember every single spot on her cute face.

he caressed her hair, very softly so he wouldn't wake her up, while smiling softly. he leaned closer to her, placing a kiss on her forehead before getting up and leaving the room. he felt his heart sinking on his chest. neuvillette knew that he was loosing his daughter's childhood, but he was doing it for her.

you were in the kitchen, warming up the food for him, when he came in. you felt his arms wrapping around your waist, while he rested his chest on your back. the sudden touch made you gasp and giggle at the same time.

"hey, i almost burnt myself." your voice sounded playful, but neuvillette looked at you with concerned eyes.

"oh, i'm sorry." when he was about to let go of you, you grabbed his arms, wrapping them around you again, but now with you facing him.

"i'm just kidding." the smile on your lips made him relax again. you noticed how his eyes seemed tired. he stared back at you, noticing that your eyes still had a hint of concern. neuvillette leaned in, touching your lips with his. it was just a simple brush of lips, as if you two were teenagers having their first love.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, sighing and smiling between the soft and quick kiss. when he was going to pull away, you pressed your lips together again, making his eyes widen for a short moment, before closing again. you couldn't deny that you missed moments like this.

his hands rested on your waist while you leaned in even more to his touch. when you were about to deepen the kiss, he pulled away. you looked confusedly at him, your eyes half-closed.

"are you feeling that smell?" neuvillette asked, sniffing the air. the realization immediately hit you, making you turn to the oven to save the food that was almost burning up.

"ah! ...ah." you said, looking at how the food was starting to look disgusting. you sighed. "well, it's useless now." you were about to discard the food when a pale and large hand held your wrist.

"wait, don't do it." neuvillette grabbed the food from your hand and poured some things on it, like spices and other things like that. "there it is, now we can eat it." he smiled, proud of his work.

"are you sure? i can make a new one." you said, looking at the food with unsure eyes. in response, neuvillette grabbed a spoon of the food and took it near your mouth.

"prove it." he said, still holding the spoon. you looked at him and sighed, taking the spoon in your mouth. your eyes widened a bit when you noticed that it was still good.

"hmm! you're right, it's good." you chuckled, seeing how neuvillette smiled softly at you. "alright then, you should eat it. you must be hungry after all your work today."

you stayed with him while he ate, talking about your day or about something new kiara learned. he listened carefully to every word, while eating and flavoring the food you made for him. when he finished, he washed his dishes and turned to you. you looked up at him, smiling softly and playfully at the same time.

"thank you for the food, my dear." he said, kissing your forehead and resting his lips a little longer there. when he pulled away, he had a sad smile. "i wish i could eat with you every day." you knew he was talking about kiara too, and your heart sank.

you knew that both of them missed each other, and you didn't know how to solve this problem. you reached your hand to caress his cheek and he leaned into the touch.

"she misses you too." you started, measuring your words exactly like you did with kiara. "but she knows that you're working this hard for her." seeing your soothing smile, he leaned in even more in your hand. "and besides, we can always spend time together on weekends, right?"

he nodded, leaving kisses on the palm of your hand. "i know." he said in a whisper. he really was like his daughter. you felt like you just had a deja-vu.

you pulled him to a hug, wrapping your arms around his waist. you felt his arms wrapping around your shoulder, squeezing you as if you were a plush. "she loves you, you know?" you whispered in his ear and you felt how he squeezed you even tighter, but not too much. "and she knows you love her too."

he pulled away, looking at your eyes. his hand reached your cheek, brushing his thumb against your skin in a calm and soft way. "i love you." neuvillette's voice made your heart beat faster. "i love you too." you answered, chuckling while trying to hide your red cheeks.

"i'm sorry, my dear, but i'm afraid i can't stay awake much longer." neuvillette said, his sentence being cut by a yawn. you chuckled and patted his shoulder. "alright, alright. go ahead, you need to rest." you said, pushing him in a playful way towards the bedroom.

in a few minutes, neuvillette was already snoring softly on his bed, sleeping so tightly that you could think he had fainted. you were next to him, playing with his white hair, brushing your fingers along his scalp. kiara wasn't the only person that missed him, but you didn't want to complain about that, so you always kept that feeling on your chest. that feeling that you knew it would break his heart if he knew about it. you sighed, burying yourself on his arms and he instantly hugged you, still asleep. soon, you fell asleep too.

the next day, you woke up with a familiar voice calling for you. you slowly opened your eyes, still a bit drowsy. when you saw neuvillette, gently shaking you and whispering your name, you knew something was off.

you sat up on the bed, feeling dizzy because you did it too fast. "what happened?" your voice sounded worried and neuvillette rested his hand on your shoulder.

"don't worry." his voice sounded soothing and you tried to calm down. "it's kiara. i think she has a fever." he helped you get up from the bed and walk to kiara's room. "i came to see her before leaving for work but her face feels hot." the two of you entered the girl's room.

she was sleeping on her bed, her blankets wrapping around her. she had an annoyed expression on her face, as if she was feeling very uncomfortable. you carefully touched her forehead with the back of your hand, feeling how warm her face was. she was really with a fever.

"i need to go to work but, maybe i can take you two to the hospital?" neuvillette looked worried. he wanted to take care of kiara but he couldn't miss work.

"don't worry, i'll take care of her." before you could even finish your sentence, kiara opened her eyes slowly, looking around the room. at the moment she saw neuvillette, her eyes widened.

"daddy?" her voice sounded low because of the fever, but even though, she tried to get up and reach for neuvillette. he immediately got closer to her, sitting next to her on her bed.

"hey, dear." his voice sounded soothing but his eyes were concerned. kiara quickly hugged him, tightly, as if she didn't want to let him go. neuvillette caressed her hair with his hand.

"daddy, i missed you." kiara's voice sounded muffled because she was burying herself in neuvillette's arms. he looked surprised by her reaction, but he kept caressing her hair. "please, stay here today." her request broke neuvillette's heart into tiny pieces.

"oh, my sweetheart, you know that i can't do that." she hugged him even tighter when he said that. "please." she asked again and a small sob escaped her lips. neuvillette's eyes widened and he pulled away from her, looking at her face.

tears started to form in her eyes and fell down her cheeks. the moment that you were eagerly trying to avoid was happening right in front of you. you checked neuvillette's reaction and he looked completely shocked.

"don't cry, my baby." he brushed his thumb on his daughter's cheeks, wiping away her tears, but she just sobbed even more. "please, daddy, please." she grabbed him by the coat, desperately trying to convince him. it was truly a heartbroken moment.

"my love, you know that daddy needs to work." you tried to intervene, but kiara shook her head, ignoring your words completely.

"no!" she yelled, sobbing and trying to hug neuvillette again. "no... i want daddy here. i want to stay with him." neuvillette looked up at you, without knowing what to do. you saw that his eyes looked upset and hurt. you knew that he hated to see kiara crying, specially because of him.

"my love, please listen." neuvillette tried to speak, but kiara kept yelling at both of you. you knew you had to scold her for screaming with you two, but you also knew that she was hurt - and sick.

you sat next to them on the bed, but kiara tried to move away from you. "kiara, we can spend time together on saturday. you know that, right?" you spoke in a soft tone, hoping that she would listen to you, but she shook her head again.

"no, i want it now! i want it today!" she yelled at you and you didn't know what to do anymore. kiara turned back to neuvillette, looking at him with her eyes wet from tears. "please, daddy. i love you, i need you." it was really shocking to see an eight year old kid saying those things, and you knew neuvillette felt the same, because he looked devastated.

"i love you too, dear. i love you so much. please, listen to me." he placed his hand on her cheek, trying to calm her down and make her listen. she couldn't stop sobbing and her voice sounded low and broke when she spoke. "i can't skip work today." she started to panic again but he said a simple "shh" to keep her quiet. "but i will come home earlier so we can do something together, how does that sound?" he looked at her expectantly.

she stayed quiet for a moment, sobbing more softly now, then she looked up at him again. "do you promise?" she asked, in a whisper.

"of course i do." neuvillette smiled reassuringly. kiara sighed and nodded, hugging him again and closing her eyes. "but you'll have to promise that you'll obey your mommy and be nice, okay?" he asked, feeling her little nod.

they pulled away, neuvillette kissed kiara's forehead and smiled at her. she smiled too, but she still looked a bit sad. her eyes swollen and wet from the tears. "i'll go to work and you'll stay here with mommy, alright?" kiara nodded again, pouting very slightly but a lot more calm now. neuvillette got up from her bed.

"good." he said before kissing your cheek and giving you an understanding smile. "i love you two." he said, and you two answered an "i love you too" before he left for work.

you sighed, looking back at the sad little girl hugging herself on her bed. you sat next to her, placing a hand on her forehead and feeling that it was still warm. "are you calmer now?" you asked in a soft tone.

"i'm sorry, mommy. i yelled at you." she said, without looking at your eyes and pouting embarrassedly. you chuckled, caressing her hair. "it's okay. i forgive you." you got up, fixing her blankets around her body and giving her a little kiss on her forehead.

"now, i will give you some medicine so you can get better when daddy gets home, okay?" you said and it looked like that made her a little better, because she smiled weakly at you.

you prepared and gave her medicine, taking care that she would stay with the proper amount of blankets covering her and that the towel cooling her forehead would stay in the proper temperature all the time.

the day passed quickly. when the night was already setting, kiara was already feeling better, sitting on the couch and glancing anxiously at the door.

you were sitting next to her, caressing her hair and trying to calm her down. "hey, come on. be patient." you said in a playful voice and kiara pouted in response. she sighed, looking at her hands, while playing nervously with her fingers. you noticed that.

"what's wrong? why are you feeling so anxious?" you asked, in a soothing and calm voice, trying to look at her eyes. she looked away, shyly. she didn't answer, instead biting her lips trying to calm down. "dear?"

she leaned her head on your chest and you hugged her in response. "i'm nervous." she said, in a whisper, and you felt even more confused. "nervous? why?" you asked, playing with her hair with your fingers. she looked up at you and you saw pure concern on her little eyes.

"do you think daddy is going to like to spend time with me?" she asked, looking at you with those innocent and worried eyes. you couldn't hold your chuckle. "oh, my dear, of course he will." you said and she looked at you expectantly. "he loves to stay with you, but you know it's not his fault, right?" she nodded very slowly. "don't worry. i'm sure that you two are going to have fun." you kissed the top of her head and she gave you a small smile.

at the exact moment, the door opened. kiara quickly turned to look at it, her eyes shining and bright. when neuvillette appeared from behind the door, putting his shoes and suitcase away, kiara jumped out of the couch, running towards him. he immediately dropped his things on the floor, holding her in his arms, preventing her from falling.

"oh!" he let out, startled by the sudden embrace. "kiara, be careful." his voice sounded worried but as soon as the girl wrapped her arms around him in a tight and desperate hug, he smiled, hugging her back.

he picked her up, easily, tightening the hug and kissing her cheek. "are you feeling better now?" he asked, walking towards the couch. kiara nodded, burying her face on his neck. neuvillette sat down on the couch, while kiara kept burying herself into the hug even more.

you, that was sitting on the couch, gave a little kiss on neuvillette's cheek. "i guess someone was excited to see you." you said in a playful voice and kiara hid her face, embarrassed. neuvillette chuckled, hugging kiara even tighter in a soft embrace.

"i missed you too, sweetheart." his voice sounded so sweet while he looked at his lovely daughter. it was clear how much he loved and missed her. "so, what are we going to do?" he asked, looking at her and giving her a reassuring smile. "we can do whatever you want."

kiara looked up at him and she looked unsure, as if she thought about lots of possibilities but none of them looked good enough. she looked down, unable to hide the sad pout forming on her lips. "i don't know." her voice sounded like a whisper.

neuvillette kissed the top of her head. "don't worry. we can think about something now." his voice was so soothing, that even you calmed down when he spoke. you looked at your husband with loving eyes. he was everything you ever asked for.

neuvillette and kiara had fun together. they watched movies and played silly board games, until both of them fell asleep on the couch. kiara leaning her head on her daddy's chest, while he hugged her protectively.

you couldn't take so much cuteness. of course you took lots of pictures before, carefully, waking neuvillette up.

"my love, wake up, you can't sleep here." you tried to whisper in the most low tone you could, so you wouldn't wake up kiara. neuvillette blinked a few times, before looking down at kiara and smiling softly. he kissed her forehead, cuddling her on his arms and picking her up.

"i'll take her to her room." he said to you and left with his daughter in his arms. it took him a few minutes to come back and he had a tired but happy look on his face. you were sitting on the couch and he sat next to you, leaning his head on your shoulder.

"so?" you asked, giving a kiss on top of his head. he looked up at you, pulling your face so he could give a quick kiss on your lips. "it was nice." he said after pulling away. "i should have done this before." his voice sounded a bit guilty and you quickly hugged him.

"you're a great father. you know that, right?" you whispered to him and he smiled softly. "and you're a great mother." he said back to you. you looked into his eyes, smiling proudly of you for having such a perfect family.

his hand reached to cup your cheek, and he leaned in, kissing you in the sweetest way. you sighed between the kiss, leaning in so you could get even closer to him.

"i love you." he said against your lips, and you smiled. "i love you too." it was your turn to make him smile.

you were just two silly lovebirds, sitting on the couch and saying sweet nothings to each other, until you eventually fell asleep in his arms.

you knew that the next day it was all going to start over, but you didn't care. you had the best routine, the best family, the best everything.

you couldn't be more grateful.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

It's Time To Face Reality

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Princess!Reader

Word Count: ~2.7k

Warnings: kidnapping, angst

Summary: You find the courage and strength inside yourself to be the hero for once. With everything over and done with, you have no choice but to go back to your old life and leave the one person who made you feel so alive.

Play Pretend Masterlist

Square Filled: physical toll for @mfbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

x

“Whatever move you’re going to make, follow through with it. If you’re ever in a situation where you don’t feel safe, the best thing you can do is follow through. If you give them a single spark of weakness, they will strike where it hurts.”

“Ben, I got it. Now punch me,” you grin.

“You’re trouble,” he chuckles.

Ben continues to teach you how to defend yourself if you ever find yourself in a situation where your life is threatened and Ben isn’t there to protect you.

You roll your head to the right and crack what you can to work out the kinks. James had you moved to one of the back bedrooms while they figure out what to do with you. The clock ticking is the only thing you can hear inside the room, reminding you that you have five more hours until they cut off one of your limbs. You’re not sure if they’ll really do that but Ryder is eager to cut into something.

Your arm is getting numb from the way they’ve tied both behind your back. If you don’t escape now, you’re going to suffer a lot. Fuck this. I’m not going to be a damsel in distress. You’re not going to wait to be rescued when you can do it yourself.

Ben taught you better.

Calliope and Elliot arrived in America as soon as they could. They traveled with Kylen and two other guards for their own protection. Spencer tries not to let their presence scare him but it’s intimidating to know the girl he likes has such high security. Calliope hasn’t stopped crying which is understandable while Elliot holds a hard look in his eyes.

“Tell me you know where our daughter is,” Elliot says to Hotch.

“Your Majesty--”

“Please, Elliot. We’ll be spending a lot of time together.”

“Elliot, we’re doing everything we can to find your daughter before anything bad happens. We’re the very best team and we’re working hard.”

“I never wanted this for her,” Calliope cries.

“Your Majesty, James Volkov is the one who took Y/N,” Ben says.

“What can you tell me about him?” Hotch asks.

“His hatred for the Richmond bloodline goes deeper than Y/N. He broke into the palace when she was barely a year old and then again when she was six. It’s why we hired Ben to look after her. Even before I was Queen, he was obsessed with stealing from my family. He’s money and power hungry.”

“My mother was thinking of marrying James’ father even though he wasn’t from a royal bloodline. Our tradition that we’ve upheld for centuries is to marry another from a royal bloodline. He manipulated her into giving him more money than he deserved. Then, she met my father who made her realize what a disgusting person James’ family was,” Elliot explains.

Hotch sighs and looks at the table in thought. They hadn’t wanted to put James’ picture in fear that he’d hurt you earlier than he said he would.

You’re not going to give them the chance to.

After an incredible amount of patience and strength, you were able to get out of your binds. You might have bruising on your wrists from how hard the ropes were digging into your skin but that’s a price you’re willing to pay. You open the door slightly and see everyone huddled together in the living room. Macy is furiously typing on her laptop while the men are talking over one another, trying to keep their voices down.

“What are we going to do if they don’t send it? Are we really going to kill her?” Kellen asks.

“Whatever we have to do,” James says.

“They have our pictures,” Macy says. She turns the laptop to show all five of their pictures on the FBI website. “This changes things.”

“This changes nothing. Do you know how long I’ve evaded the law? We’re going to be fine. The Richmond family does not scare me.”

You’re not going to give them the opportunity to hurt you. You have to escape now. You close the bedroom door slowly and quietly before taking stock of what you have. What would Ben do if he was here? Ben. Spencer. Oh, Spencer. I hope you’re alright.

Spencer comes in with two water bottles and hands them both to the King and Queen of Yacleira.

“Are you going to pay the ransom?” Rossi asks.

“That bastard will not get a penny of my money,” Elliot says angrily.

“He has Y/N, honey,” Calliope says with tears in her eyes.

Elliot sighs as his resolve crumbles away.

“We’ll send them whatever they want.”

Penelope pulls up the email chain that James had used to send them a picture of you along with their ransom demand. Since there is an email attached to it, she can use this as a direct line to them.

“Do you think they’ll take cash? We could schedule a meetup,” Spencer says. “Make them bring Y/N as proof of life.”

Penelope sends the email off, getting another one minutes later.

“They refuse to meet up. They expect the entire thing to be deposited.”

“It’s not going to be easy sending that kind of money in a lump sum,” Hotch sighs.

“Ask them if they’ll take it in payments,” Rossi says.

Penelope sends the email and it’s not long until she gets one back. The emails are projected onto the big screen so that everyone can see their reply.

Only if you want your daughter’s fingers sent to the FBI as punishment.

“Hotch, we need to look at the area where her phone was last.”

“You’re right. Take Morgan, Ben, and Prentiss with you.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll bring her home to you,” Ben promises.

The four of them take a sleek black SUV over to the gas station where your phone was last pinged in. The gas station is on a desolate road heading out of town so it’s not busy. Whoever is working would have to remember you or the people you were with. Derek and Emily go inside to talk to the attendant while Ben and Spencer stay outside.

“You love her, don’t you?” Ben asks.

“I don’t know about love,” Spencer sighs. “All I know is that she’s the first girl in a long time to make me feel so… alive.”

“Yeah, I get it. I had that.”

“What happened?”

“I wasn’t quick enough.”

Spencer doesn’t pry knowing it must hurt to think about not being able to save the person he loved. Derek approaches the attendant who puts her phone down when she notices them.

“Hi, we’re agents Prentiss and Morgan with the FBI. We’re looking for someone we believe came through here.” He takes out a picture of you and shows her. “Have you seen this woman?”

“No.”

“They might have kept her in the car to prevent people from seeing her,” Emily whispers to Derek.

Derek takes out the pictures of Jacob and James and shows her.

“Have you seen these men?”

“Yeah, they came through late last night. They were with two other men and a woman. The woman stayed outside and got gas but the four men came in.”

“Can you describe any of them?” Emily asks, taking out her notepad.

“The woman had short, cropped hair. Red, I think. One of the men had a Justin Beiber haircut with piercings on his lip and eyebrow, and another man had tattoos up and down his arms. Big muscles.”

“Did you notice anything strange about them?”

Spencer walks inside with Ben as the attendant is talking to Derek and Emily.

“They were talking in a language I didn’t recognize. Clearly, they were pissed about something. They practically threw the cash at me when they paid.”

Emily notices a camera placed on the ceiling behind the young woman facing toward the front door and the cash register.

“Does that camera work?”

“Yeah. The owner wanted to get one after the fifth time someone came in trying to steal something.”

“May we look at the footage from last night?”

“Be my guest.”

She moves out of the way so that Spencer can work the cameras. The TV is small and grainy but the camera is good quality so the picture is clearer than the normal CCTVs. Late last night, a large SUV pulls into the gas station and pulls up to one of the pumps. The car is obstructed due to the pump they pulled into and the way the camera is angled. However, the passenger window is shown just enough to see you resting your head against the glass with your eyes closed. They must have drugged you to prevent you from getting away.

The woman gets out of the car and starts pumping gas but she is out of view of the entire frame. Four men walk inside the gas station and try their best not to show their faces on the camera. Either they knew this place only had one camera or they’re paranoid at every place because they might have cameras.

Like the attendant says, they throw the money in her face and leave as fast as possible just as the woman with the red hair finishes with the gas. They all get into the car and peel out as fast as possible. The camera isn’t wide enough to see past the road for a few feet, but Spencer sees the direction they went in.

“Do you have any idea where these guys might have gone?” Derek asks.

“I’m not sure. Like I said, they didn’t speak any English.”

“Is there anything out here?”

“Yeah, the old Garrison farm a few miles up the road. Take a right out of here and it’s literally the first road you see off to the right. It’s a dirt road. They didn’t like many people visiting but the property is a hundred acres give or take a few.”

“Thanks.” They leave the gas station and head back to the car. “Do you think they took her there?”

“Only one way to find out.”

“You don’t think… You don’t think they hurt her, do you?” Ben asks.

“Only one way to find out,” Spencer answers regretfully.

He hopes you’re okay and if you’re not, alive.

You go to the window that’s not boarded up and open it only to be met with a mesh screen. You push on it but there isn’t any give. They might have glued it or did something to prevent it from being kicked out. You look around the room and see clothes hung up in the closet. Clothes that are on wire hangers. You take one of the hangers and bend it until the metal snaps in two. Now you have a sharp side.

You walk back over to the mesh covering and stab it with the sharp end of the hanger. It takes a bit of strength on your part but if you keep at it, you’ll have created a big enough hole for you to jump through. Thankfully, this farmhouse is only one story so you’re not worried about breaking a leg. You’re so focused on creating the tear that you don’t hear the bedroom door open.

“Hey!”

You look behind you to see Kellen standing there with a shocked look on his face. You toss the metal to the side and tear the rest of the mesh with your hands. Just as you fit your leg through it, he pounces on you.

“Let go of me!” you shout loud enough to alert the others.

You fall forward onto the ground so that the only part of you still in the house is your right leg. Kellen has a death grip on your leg but you’re not giving up.

“Guys! Help! She’s escaping!”

You jerk away from him only to use every ounce of strength you have to kick him in the face. He falls back with a shout of pain, letting go of your leg. You fall to the ground but scramble to your feet as soon as you can. You take off running anywhere that’s not this farmhouse. The front door slams open and all five of them filter out of the house in a panic.

“Find her! Bring her to me!” James yells loudly.

You almost trip over the rocks but you keep running until you can’t see the farmhouse anymore.

“You can run all you want, princess, but we’ll find you. You won’t like what happens when we do!” Jacob shouts.

It’s so dark outside that you’re not sure where you’re going but that’s not going to stop you from running. Thankfully, you can see the trees so you’re not smacking into them. Your heart is racing at the thought of being caught. What if there is nothing around for miles? Are you really going to keep running without knowing what’s out there? What if you’re in their domain and there are more dangerous people out there?

No, don’t think like that. Your lungs are begging to relax and your legs are burning but you won’t stop running. In the distance you see headlights, and being there is a lot better than being with James. You run toward them in hopes that whoever is behind the wheel is friendly. You push through the thick shrubs and fall to the ground right in front of the car. It screeches to a stop before it can hit you, and you put your hand up to block the bright headlights.

“Please, help me.”

“Y/N!”

All four doors open and four people come clambering out of the car. You look up and see two familiar sets of eyes looking back.

“Spencer? Ben?”

“We’re right here. You’re safe now,” Ben says.

“They’re out there looking for me right now. There’s a farmhouse up the road.”

“Come on.”

Spencer and Ben help you into the back of the car just as Emily and Derek get back in the front. They turn the headlights off and lowly trek back to the farmhouse while still staying in the shadows. Derek and Emily get out while Ben and Spencer stay in the back with you. You faintly hear Derek call for immediate backup, and you lean your head on the headrest tiredly.

Spencer looks at you and wants to apologize but nothing comes out. You’ll have time to reconnect later. Backup comes quickly which is enough to arrest all five individuals involved. They’re brought back to the BAU where you discover your parents are. Your mom and dad run over to you, and you run into their arms with tears streaming down your cheeks.

“I’m so sorry for leaving,” you cry. “I didn't mean for all of this to happen.”

“We’re glad you’re okay, baby. You’re safe now,” your mom says.

The paramedics met you at the BAU to assess your injuries which are minor. You were treated for your bruised wrists and the small cuts on your face from the branches. You and Spencer stand off to the side while your parents are with Ben, Kylen, and the rest of the BAU.

“I’d like to take all five of them back to Yacleira if possible. They will face Yacleiran justice,” Elliot says.

“Of course,” Hotch nods. “Interpol will be notified of this as well.”

“I’ll call my contacts,” Emily offers.

You look at your parents and sigh sadly. You know what’s coming next. They know you’re here and it’s not like they will leave without you. You’re old school. They won’t break tradition for you.

“I’m sorry for keeping this a secret from you.”

“No, don’t be. I shouldn’t have left.”

“Spencer, I can’t stay here. My parents will be taking me back to Yacleira where I’m to marry Prince Henry of Vosharia. I thought… well, I thought I was the type of girl who could have what everyone else had. It doesn’t matter anymore, I guess.”

“It’ll always matter.”

“Not to someone like me.” You pull Spencer in to kiss him, and he kisses you back like it’s the last kiss you’ll ever share. Maybe it will be. The thought breaks your heart. “No matter what happens, Spencer, you were the best thing to ever happen to me.”

You look at the briefing room and see both your parents watching you and Spencer. He hates to see you walk out of his life but what can he do when the King and Queen of Yacleira calls back their Princess?

He stands on the side and lets it happen. What’s a man like him going to be able to provide for a woman like you?

x

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[winchesterwild78]

Behind the Scenes pt 7

Master List 

Minors DNI 18+

Warnings: fluff, body insecurities, oral sex (male receiving) 

A/N: I couldn’t leave everyone hanging long after the last chapter. I know it was a hard one, it was hard to write. I hope this one makes up for it. This is a work of fiction. No disrespect to Jensen or Jared or their families. *kinda a long chapter, with a slight time jump*

I edited this fast- please forgive any mistakes 

This is my original work, do not take it. 

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Jensen sat against the wall outside your room for what felt like hours. His head was pounding and his eyes hurt from crying. He prayed harder than he had ever prayed in his life. His mind was in a haze and all his thoughts kept centering around you and the future you two were supposed to share. 

The nurse who pushed him out of the room came up and kneeled beside him. Touching his shoulder he gently called his name “Mr. Ackles, you can come back in. She’s stable again. We were able to bring her back.” He helped Jensen to his feet and Jensen walked about into your room. 

He saw you laying on the bed, still unconscious and pale. He hated seeing you like this. He felt completely powerless and it made him angry. “What happened?” Jensen asked in barely a whisper. “She suffered a blood clot that went to her heart. We can’t give her blood thinners right now until we are sure her bleeding has stopped. We will do some scans in a few hours to check and then start her on a regime of medication to help prevent further clots. We placed these on her legs to help keep the blood pumping.” The doctor moved the sheet back to reveal cuffs on your legs that inflated and deflated on your legs. 

Jensen nodded his understanding. “Is she going to be okay?” “She’s still not out of the woods yet, if you’re a praying man I would suggest you pray. I’m sorry I can’t tell you more. Really it’s up to her and her body to fight. We will give you two some privacy. Mr. Ackles, I will be praying for her.” Your doctor gently touched his shoulder before leaving the room.

Jensen sat beside you and held your hand. He brought your hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. “I love you so much baby. I need you here with me and Tristan. I’m not ready to do this by myself. Please keep fighting baby.” Jensen laid his head on the bed beside you and quietly cried. 

His phone went off and he checked it. It was a text from Jared asking how you were doing. He just sent a text back that you were still fighting. He didn’t have the energy to tell him what happened. One of the night nurses walked in and saw Jensen. She was an older woman and had a sweet smile. “Mr. Ackles, when was the last time you ate or drank anything?” She questioned. “I guess this afternoon at home. I’m okay. I don’t want to leave her.” 

She walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder “Mr. Ackles, you are no good to her or your baby if you don’t take care of yourself. Go grab something to eat and drink, go see your son, and just breathe. I promise I won’t leave her side until you get back.” Jensen stood up and reluctantly let go of your hand. He leaned over and kissed your forehead. “I love you baby. I’ll be back soon. I’m going to check on Tristan.” He kissed you again and thanked the nurse. 

He walked to the cafeteria and grabbed a coffee and a snack. He ate it quickly. He didn’t realize how hungry he was until he sat and ate. After he finished he started walking to the nursery. Jensen looked through the glass and saw Tristan awake. His bright green eyes were looking around. His heart warmed and he smiled. His son was the greatest gift anyone has ever given him. He was so thankful you gave him this beautiful baby. The nurse saw him and smiled. She opened the door for him. “Hello, Mr. Ackles. Have you come to see baby Tristan?” Jensen smiled and he said yes. 

Jensen walked over to Tristan and picked him up. He carried him to the rocking chair and sat down. “Hey baby boy. How’s daddy’s boy?” He looked down at Tristan and saw his green eyes looking up at him. He couldn’t believe how quickly he loved him. Then he had a realization. He put Tristan back down, kissed his head and told him he would be right back. 

Jensen walked over to the nurse in the nursery and told her his idea. She thought it was a great idea and worth a shot. The nurse helped him push Tristan’s bassinet to your room. Once in the room he found the other nurse still sitting by your side. She smiled when she saw you and Tristan. “He’s absolutely beautiful, Mr. Ackles.” Jensen smiled and thanked her. 

“I had an idea and I hope you can help me with it. I want to lay Tristan on her chest. Skin to skin. I think it will be good for her to feel her son.” Jensen told the nurse. “Oh Jensen, I think that’s a wonderful idea. Let me help you. You get baby Tristan down to his diaper and I’ll get her ready.” Jensen got baby Tristan down to his diaper and the nurse helped get your chest cleared enough of wires to lay Tristan down. Jensen carried Tristan over and carefully placed him on your chest. The nurse took your hand and placed it on Tristan. 

Jensen and the nurses stood silently. Listening to your monitor and the soft coos of Tristan. Your heart rate started increasing. Jensen and the nurses exchanged looks. They stayed quiet and watched you and the monitor. Jensen leaned down and kissed your forehead. “Come on baby, Tristan is here waiting for his mommy. Please open your eyes. You can do it baby.” 

Jensen saw your hand that was on Tristan twitch a little. His eyes went wide. Surely he was mistaken. He looked and saw it again. The nurse gasped when she saw it too. Then they all saw your hand tighten around Tristan, holding him tight. Your eyes started to flutter open. Jensen and the nurses couldn’t believe their eyes. You were waking up. 

“I’m right here baby! Oh thank God! Y/N, it’s okay baby. You’re safe.” The nurse left to get the doctor so they could check you. While she was gone you woke up and saw Jensen. Tears fell from your eyes as you held your baby. The other nurse in the room told you to stay calm. The doctor would remove the tube. You nodded with understanding. 

Jensen leaned over and kissed your forehead. “You came back to us. I love you so much baby.” The doctor walked in and saw you awake with Tristan on your chest. “You came back, Y/N. You’ve had so many people anxious for you to come back. I see you’ve met your son.” She smiled at you and Jensen. “Great idea, dad.” She looked at Jensen. “Okay, I’m going to remove this tube. When I do, your throat is going to be sore, but it’ll get better after a few hours. Are you ready?” You nodded. Jensen took Tristan off your chest and wrapped him in a blanket and held him. 

The doctor removed the tube and gave you some water to drink. Your vitals were getting stronger and your color was starting to come back. “What happened?” You asked hoarsely. The doctor told you what happened in the operating room and most recently. Your eyes went wide and you looked over at Jensen who had tears in his eyes. “You got yourself a great man there. He wouldn’t leave your side, and he’s been so great with baby Tristan too.” The doctor told you. You took Jensen’s hand and held it. 

“I need to text everyone and let them know you’re awake. They’ve all been worried.” Jensen said as he handed Tristan back to you. You took your son in your arms and looked at him. He was perfect. He looked like you but had Jensen’s eyes. He held your finger in his tiny hand and cooed. You smiled and whispered “Hey baby boy. You are so loved and so wanted. I can’t wait to watch you grow.” You kissed his head softly. 

Jensen finished letting everyone know you were awake and they were going to be moving you to a recovery room soon so everyone could visit a few people at a time. Jensen sat beside you and watched you with Tristan and smiled. He took out his phone and took a picture. “Jensen, don’t take my picture. I look horrible.” “No you don’t, you’re breathtaking, and you’re holding our son.” He smiled. 

“Our son. Our sweet baby boy is here. I can’t believe we did it, Jensen.” “No, you did it sweetheart. You carried him, gave birth to him, and fought to come back to us.” Jensen kissed your lips softly. “I was so scared, Y/N. I thought I was going to lose you. We almost did, but you came back to us.” A tear fell from Jensen’s eye. 

“Oh baby, don’t cry. I’m okay. I could never leave you.” You grabbed his hand. The nurse walked in and told you they were moving you to recovery. Jensen took Tristan and placed him in his bassinet and the nurse started pushing your bed to your new room. Jensen pushed Tristan and followed behind you. 

Once you arrived at your new room the nurse hooked you up to the monitor. “This will only be temporary. We need to monitor you a little while longer.” You nodded. Once you were hooked up she left you, Jensen and Tristan alone. Jensen picked up Tristan and brought him back over to you. You took Tristan in your arms and kissed his head. Jensen leaned down and kissed your lips. “I love you, sweetheart. So much!” “I love you too, Jens.” 

“So what did Jared say about his name?” “He was over the moon. It took him a second to get it. I haven’t had a chance to tell Misha he’s here yet. I’ll text him later.” You nodded and continued to look at your son. You couldn’t believe you were a mom. There was a soft knock at the door and Jensen said come in. You looked up and saw Jensen’s parents and yours. When your mom saw you she cried and ran to hold you. 

Everyone took a turn hugging you and then they turned their attention to baby Tristan. Your parents and Jensen’s didn’t stay too long. They wanted you to rest. Your mom kept hugging you and didn’t want to leave you. You understood, but her hugs were body crushing. 

When they left you fed the baby and changed him. You had just finished feeding Tristan when there was a knock at the door. You said come in softly and saw Jared and Gen walk in. They both smiled big when they saw you up and holding the baby. “Oh my goodness. We are so happy you are okay.” Gen said as she hugged you. Jared smiled and nodded. “Yeah, you gave us quite a scare.” “So I heard. Thank you for being there for Jensen. I know it wasn’t easy for him or y’all.” “Hey, Y/N, that’s what family is for. We will always be there for you guys.” Jared said as he hugged you. 

You tried to stifle a yawn that was building, but you couldn’t help it. Gen and Jared hugged you, Jensen, and Tristan before they left. Jensen placed Tristan in the bassinet and walked over to you. “I love you so much. I was so scared. I thought I was never going to see you again.” Jensen sighed. “Jens, what happened? I just remember them telling me they needed to do a c-section, but then everything went black after that.” “The doctor said your placenta detached and you started to hemorrhage. When they got Tristan out you started to bleed more. You lost a lot of blood and coded 4 times on the table. Later in your room you coded again, but you fought baby. You fought so hard to get back to us.” Jensen kissed your head as a tear slipped out.

“I’ll never stop fighting to stay with you and Tristan. I love you, Jensen. I’m so sorry you went through all of that.” You lifted your hand and cupped his cheek. He leaned down and for the first time in a while your lips touched in a passionate kiss. 

The kiss was filled with so much need, love, and emotion. You melted into his lips as both of you moaned. A knock on the door interrupted the kiss. You blushed and said come in. The nurse came in to check your vitals and see if you needed anything. “I am a little hungry. Do you think I can get something to eat?” You questioned. “Absolutely! Dad, do you need anything?” The nurse turned towards Jensen. “No, I’m good. I’ll grab something later. Thank you though.” The nurse nodded and left the room.

“Jens, you looked exhausted. Why don’t you go home and get some sleep? I’ll be okay.” Jensen smiled down at you. “I’m okay baby. That chair turns into a twin bed, I’ll get some sleep later. Right now I want to enjoy being here with my little family.” You playfully rolled your eyes, knowing it was useless arguing with him. “Okay, but promise me you will sleep. We need you in top shape.” You said as you motioned towards the baby.

The nursery nurse came to get Tristan just as your food arrived. “I need to take him for a bath, and to be checked by the pediatrician. I should be able to bring him back in a few hours.” You and Jensen nodded. You ate your food and Jensen chuckled. “You really were hungry, weren’t you?” You shook your head enthusiastically. 

When you finished eating you laid down. Sleep was washing over you. Jensen walked over to you and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “Sweet dreams, baby.” When Jensen heard your soft snores he fixed the chair into a bed and kicked off his shoes. It wasn’t long before sleep was overtaking him too. 

You woke up a few hours later and looked over to see Jensen fast asleep. You smiled and your heart filled with so much love. You couldn’t imagine the pain he went through. The doctor came in, breaking you away from your thoughts. She saw Jensen sleeping and she smiled. “Good afternoon, Y/N. How are you doing?” “I’m sore, but feeling pretty good. I heard I gave everyone a scare.” “Yes you did, especially him.” She pointed towards Jensen. “He refused to leave your side. I thought he was going to beat up one of my nurses.” She chuckled. “Oh no! He is fiercely protective of his family.” You told her. “I can see that. You’ve got yourself an incredible man there. I’m glad to see he’s finally resting.”

You looked over at Jensen, “me too.” “Okay, let's check you out and see what’s going on. I see everything looks good and you are healing. Your blood count is good and the scans we did show no more bleeding. This is all really good news. If you keep this up and your numbers stay up you can go home tomorrow.” “Oh my goodness, really?” You exclaimed. The doctor nodded yes. 

As she was leaving the room Tristan was brought back in. The nurse handed him to you. He smelled so good after his bath and was wrapped up tightly in his blanket. You were so in love with him. He was a perfect mix of you and Jensen, with Jensen’s green eyes. When you first saw him you thought he favored you more, but now he definitely is a beautiful mix of the two of you. 

You talked to him, held him and kissed him while Jensen slept. About half an hour after they brought Tristan in there was a soft knock at the door. You told them to come in. You smiled when you saw Clif and Misha. Clif walked over to you first. “Hey sweet pea, how are you feeling?” He kissed your head and looked down at the baby. “I’m okay. Doing so much better.” He nodded and looked over at Jensen and smiled. 

Misha walked up next and looked at you and the baby. “Hey, Y/N. I can’t believe you named him after me, thank you. That means so much to me.” “Oh Mish, you’re an important part of Jensen’s life and mine too. Would you like to hold him?” Misha nodded and held out his arms. It warmed your heart to see Misha holding your son. You grabbed your phone to take a picture. Jensen would want to see this so you decided to take a picture. 

Tristan started to whimper a little and Misha thought he did something wrong. You laughed and told Misha he was probably just wet. As Tristan started to whine more, Misha handed him back to you and Jensen started to wake up. Jensen stretched and stood up seeing Clif and Misha in the room. “Hey guys, good to see you. How long have I been asleep?” “A few hours, but you needed it.” You replied. Jensen nodded and walked over to Clif and Misha. He gave them both a hug and thanked them for coming. 

“Well, we are going to head out and let you two rest. I’m in town for a few days, so I’ll see you guys soon.” Misha said as he leaned down to kiss your head. “Okay, thanks for coming. We really appreciate it.” You smiled. They both nodded, gave one last hug to Jense and you, then left. 

“So the doctor came in while you were asleep and said everything is looking good. No more bleeding, blood count is steady and if I keep it up I can go home tomorrow. Can you believe it?” You told Jensen. “That’s great news baby. I can’t wait to get you two home.” Jensen replied. 

The next morning the doctor came into your room early to talk to you and Jensen. “Well, it looks like everything is still going good. Your blood count is increasing and there is no sign of infection or potential for you to code again. I think it’s safe to send you home. The nurse will be in shortly to unhook you, and give you your discharge paperwork. If you need anything, day or night, don’t hesitate to reach out to me.” She smiled as she talked to you. 

“Thank you doctor, we will. Thank you for taking such good care of me and my little one.” She hugged you and Jensen stood and hugged her too. “I want to see you in my office in about 5 weeks for a check up. If you need anything before then, let me know.” You nodded, “See you in 5 weeks then.” 

The nurse came in and started unhooking the machines and took out your IV. “Okay, Miss. Y/L/N, you can shower and get dressed if you would like. Here are discharge instructions. Please follow them and call your doctor if you experience any complications. Keep all of your follow up appointments and take your medication as prescribed. Do you have any questions?” “No, thank you. I’m just eager to shower and get my family home.” You smiled. “Okay, I’ll leave you to it. Let me know when you are ready and we will get you a wheelchair and home.” 

She left the room and you slowly stood. Jensen helped you to the bathroom and offered to stay in the bathroom while you showered. As you stepped in the shower, the warm water enveloped your body like a hug. You sighed contently. You washed your hair and body, taking extra care around your incision. When you finished Jensen was waiting to help you out and dry off. “Jens, just hand me the towel, please. I don’t want you to see my body right now.” You said through the curtain. “Honey, no. Let me help you. I love your body. It’s beyond perfect.” He started to pull back the curtain. You bit your lip and tried to cover the best you could. 

“Baby, please let me help you. Your body just did something amazing. Not only did you carry and give birth to our son, you fought like hell to stay here with us. You’re perfect and I love every part of you.” You slowly put your hands down and Jensen’s eyes looked at your body. “So beautiful.” He whispered as he helped dry you off. You blushed and pulled him close to you. You placed a kiss on his lips and whispered “I love you, Jensen.” “I love you too, Y/N. Now let’s get you dressed and home.” You nodded and smiled

A few minutes later you were dressed and Tristan was in his carseat ready to go home. Jensen was beaming with pride. The nurse came in and helped you in the wheelchair and started to wheel you out. Jensen followed close behind with Tristan. He pulled the car around and placed Tristan in the backseat, locking him into the base. You slid in the backseat with him as Jensen got up front. 

You watched your sweet boy sleep and Jensen’s focus on the road. He was driving carefully. It made you chuckle. “Honey, you can drive the speed limit.” You laughed. “I’m trying to keep y’all safe,” he said. “Okay, baby.” You smiled.

The three of you arrived home safely. Both of your parents were waiting to welcome you home. The house was clean, there was food ready and everyone was so happy you and Tristan were home. Jensen’s mom and your mom came to your door and helped you out. Jensen grabbed Tristan’s carseat and carried him inside. 

You sat on the couch and Jensen took Tristan out of his seat, laying him in the small bassinet beside you. He was sleeping peacefully. Your dad and Jensen’s were sitting at the table while your moms were in the kitchen finishing up setting the food out. Jensen ran upstairs to take a shower and change. You got up and started to walk upstairs. You heard the shower running when you got to the bedroom and bit your lip thinking about him in the shower. 

You missed him and how he made you feel. You knew it was going to be awhile before the two of you could be intimate again, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t sneak a peek. You softly knocked on the bathroom door. “Hey, Jens, need any help?” You whispered seductively. Jensen pulled back the curtain showing off his wet, toned body. You bit your lip and could feel the ache between your thighs. 

Jensen stepped out of the shower and water trickled down his body. You walked up to him and kissed his lips. He deepened the kiss and you moaned. You felt his length harden against you. “Jens, let me take care of you.” You whispered as you slowly dropped to your knees. “Baby, you don’t have to do this.” Jensen told you. “I know, I want to.” You looked up at him seductively. 

You took his hardening length in your hands, guiding it to your mouth. As your lips wrapped around him he groaned. You used your tongue to lick his length, starting at the base and all the way up to the pink tip. He had some precum on the head and you licked it off. 

Your movements became fluid as you worked his length down your throat. Jensen’s hand went to your hair and helped guide you. Jensen moaned and grunted with each thrust. He was close already. “God baby, you feel so good. I’m not going to last long. I need to cum.” He moaned out. You pulled back and locked eyes with him, “cum for me baby, cum down my throat.” Your mouth took him in deep and a few thrusts more and he was cumming down your throat. His hot seed spilling in your mouth. When you felt his pulsing stop you pulled him out of your mouth. 

Jensen helped you off your knees and pulled you into a hug, kissing you deeply. “Damn baby that was amazing. You didn’t have to do that.” “I know, I wanted to. You deserve so much more than that.” You kissed his lips and told him to get dressed. 

*time jump 7 weeks*

You and Jensen worked really well as a team when it came to taking care of Tristan. Between diapers, baths and feedings you were getting good at being parents. Your follow up and Tristan’s first appointment went great. The doctor cleared you for all activities, as long as you took it easy. 

Jensen and you decided it was time to announce the baby had arrived. You had pictures taken and you both picked your favorite one. The post read:

Y/N and I would like to announce the birth of our son, Tristan Dmitri Ackles. Born on August 23 at 22:35, weighing 7lbs 5oz, and 21” long. He was early, but was born healthy. Y/N and I are so in love with him and can’t wait to watch him grow. Thank you for all the love and support throughout this journey. 

Jensen & Y/N

You couldn’t believe how fast the post went viral. It was shared and commented on so quickly. Everyone was so supportive and said he looked like you. Which made you giggle. Of course Jared and Misha had to comment about the baby being named after them. Their back and forth banter made you and Jensen laugh. 

Jensen was upstairs in the nursery with Tristan while you were getting lunch ready. Jensen called you upstairs, he said he wanted to show you the outfit he just bought for Tristan. You smiled and went upstairs. “Let me see the adorable outfit you bought for him.” You said as you walked into the nursery. When you walked in you saw Tristan in his crib laying in a onesie that looked like a tuxedo. You giggled. “Well aren’t you just the most handsome little man. You look like you’re ready to go to prom.” As you turned around to ask Jensen where he got it from you gasped.

There Jensen was, behind you and on one knee. Your breath hitched. In his hand was an open ring box. “Y/N, from the moment I met you I knew I wanted to marry you. You’ve given me an incredible family and I know I should have asked you this a long time ago, but would you make me the happiest man on Earth and do me the most incredible honor of being my wife? Tears filled your eyes and spilled over onto your cheeks. “Yes! Jensen, yes I will marry you!” He stood, hugged you and kissed you. Then he placed the most beautiful ring you’d ever seen on your finger. “Jensen, it’s perfect, this was perfect.” “You’re perfect”, and he kissed your lips. 

Tags: @nescaveckdaily  @kr804573 @k-slla @jackles010378 @jawritter

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @roseblue373 @cheynovak @jassackles  @chriszgirl92

@suckitands33 @arcannaa @n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78 @smoothdogsgirl

@hobby27 @manicjk @stoneyggirl2 @stoneyggirl2

[itoshiexx]

the garden of your heart

you are now reading... LENA'S 1K MILESTONE EVENT FIC!

↳ isagi yoichi + nepenthe (n.) - something that can make you forget grief or suffering

synopsis: when the weight of loss threatens to crush your bones, isagi yoichi becomes the solace you need.

notes: hi guys. i wasn't planning on posting this so soon, but then again, i wasn't planning on my dog dying and experiencing grief first hand either, so this flowed out of me as a form of comfort. thank you for requesting @popponn, love you dear <3

event masterlist

grief came in a wavelength of darkness; one that covered every seam and corner of your skin until it swallowed you whole. grief carved its way deep into your heart, leaving behind a hole that burned every time your chest expanded to try to breathe. grief had an iron grip on the base of your throat, choking down the words of disbelief and the acute sorrow of your cries that insisted on keep coming out, despite the irritation on the skin of your eyes. 

grief, you thought, was kind of like facing death one on one, shivering upon its wicked smile, watching helplessly as it takes away something you cherish and treasure with all your heart.

“baby, have you eaten yet?”

you can barely register the words coming out of yoichi’s mouth, too engrossed in staring at the white ceiling and reliving the last 24 hours on an endless, torturous loop. you try to blink away the images of your loved one dead, but they keep coming and opening the dam that releases your infinite tears. you’ve lost count on how many of them you have already shed.

(it seems like it could fill the pacific ocean).

“baby?” he tries again, gently poking your body. with great strength, you manage to look at him. 

grief took away the sparkle of life in your orbs, almost as if you were the one who passed — because, in reality, a part of you did die with them. grief made you feel incomplete, sensing an emptiness that was never there before, but that would perpetually be from then on.

yoichi smiles, and it feels like a beam of light on your little dark bubble. 

“there you are. my pretty baby.” he runs his fingers through your hair, trying to soothe the fresh wounds of your soul, even for just a moment. “what would you like to eat? i’ll cook for you.”

you feel the tears once again prickle your lash line, but you fight the quiver of your lips and the cement block lodged in your throat. “i’m… ’m not hungry.”

grief made you lose your appetite. it made you lose a lot of things.

(ironic, considering it all began from loss itself).

your boyfriend frowns, “you know you need to eat, honey. at least a little bit.”

guilt starts gathering in your guts. you don’t want to worry your boyfriend — your sweet, kind boyfriend who is always by your side — because what if you lose him too? what would you do with another hole in your life, in your heart? how could you bear the weight of another loss without letting grief take over you completely?

“hey, hey… don’t cry, pretty. i’m sorry,” yoichi is quick to say, turning until he’s face to face with you. he sits on the edge of the couch and brings your face to his warm chest, drawing circular motions on your back to try and calm you down.

you didn’t even realize when you started crying again, but you let it flow. although everything in the world seems fragile and scary, you know you can always count on isagi to be your safe space. 

because your lover’s heart is like a garden — a place where the birds chirp and the flowers continuously bloom, even when they are faced with drought. a spot where the breeze gently blows your hair and kisses your wounds, no matter how deep they are. a space where you can rest and recharge, allowing yourself to be vulnerable. 

(you don’t have to be strong all the time).

yoichi’s heart is the one slot of the whole universe where you know you can find peace from your worst nightmares. 

“what do you want me to do, pretty? how can i help you feel better?” he asks, voice slightly shaken with concern. it makes your heart swell, and maybe, just maybe, you think you can be alright. 

“just hold me,” you murmur. 

because it’s love that fills the holes and makes you forget grief. even if it’s just for a little while.

© 2024 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.

[nekohime19]

Mini Mac #1 : Peach-thief vs Monkey King

Okay, so I rewatched Arrietty and this Au popped into my mind. I call it the Mini Mac Au!

For now it's just thoughts, ideas and short chapters like this one.

Will I write more about the Mini Mac Au, 🤔 idk, maybe

For now enjoy the first meeting between Wukong and Mini Mac.

Sun Wukong was staring at the bowl of peaches put on his mahogany table, gaze sweeping over every inch of pinkish skin filling the wooden bowl. “Live in a house”, they said. “You're the Monkey King, you need a palace”, they whined. It was the last time Sun Wukong ever listened to his sworn-brothers. While the stone mansion in the water-curtain cave was nice, it was also infested with pests.

Peach-stealing pests.

The Monkey King could be forgetful at times, he missed a few gatherings with his sworn-brothers and some grooming sessions with his troop, always too caught up in the present. Maybe he ought to work on this forgetfulness of his, he wouldn't like to be known as the promise-breaker. However, if there was one thing he never forgot, it was his peaches.

He could forgive one missing peach. Maybe one of his lil sun was feeling particularly hungry and how could one resist the tempting sight of a ripe peach ? It happened before, it could happen again.

He could, with a few grumbles, forgive two missing peaches. Maybe he ate them in a particularly late hour and forgot about it, he often forgot about the peaches he ate after drunken nights with his sworn-brothers.

Three missing peaches, however, was where he drew the line. Three missing peaches meant someone was daring enough to steal from him. Three missing peaches meant he needed to kick some thieving-ass.

“This house is not big enough for two peach-lovers!” Huffed the Monkey King as he took the staff hidden in the hollow of his ear, eyes surveilling every nook and crannies of his house.

He was startled by the sound of something hitting the floor, he turned around and gasped when he saw his peach-bowl flipped around like the unfortunate victim of a petty cat, peaches scattered on the floor. When he picked up the fallen peaches, he realized one more was missing and hissed through his fangs.

This meant war!

The thing about peach-thieves, realized Sun Wukong after a few days, was that they were incredibly slippery. The sage did everything he could ever think of and everytime he was defeated.

Standing before the peach-bowl through the whole night, staff in hands in case he needed to do some butt-kicking? He woke up the next morning with one missing peach and an odd powder in his nose. A sleeping medicine he realized after a few minutes of observation, one homemade and very efficient.

Laying traps around the ripest peach and placing it in the middle of the house? He woke up with the traps on him, and two missing peaches.

Hiding the peaches in a sealed safe he bought the monkey way (AKA stole) and burying the safe in a location only known to him? Somehow, he was still missing two peaches the next morning.

Sun Wukong was beginning to fall into madness, he was also making his own sworn-brothers insane with his rambling. This situation was clearly beginning to wear everyone down. One evening, after one week of suffering, Azure Lion gently gave him a rather pricey magical device made to chase away the pests hiding in one house. Apparently the whole sworn-brotherhood saved money to buy it, something about “preserving their sanity before it's too late”.

Sun Wukong put the device in his peach-bowl and waited through the night, he promised himself to stay awake, yet he failed after one hour and began to snore rather loudly while leaning on the couch. He woke in the dead of the night when the device put in the bowl began to howl like a dying wolf. The Monkey King winced, ears folded, but approached the bowl nonetheless.

What he found inside wasn't something he was prepared for.

Sun Wukong thought the peach-thief was either the smartest mouse in existence or some sort of unknown parasite he awakened after finding the old stone mansion. Instead he found the prettiest macaque on earth, folded on himself, paws on his ears.

The sage, after picking up the jaw he dropped, carefully took the doll-size black-furred macaque in his hands, now uncaring of the device blasting his ears off. The lil guy was clothed with bright green leaves, two were weaved around his waist, another was fastened around his chest like a makeshift sling. He was the size of the sage's hand, fur puffed up in alarm as he tried to curl on himself. Sun Wukong panicked when he caught a whiff of blood and immediately threw the blasting device over his window.

The lil guy blinked slowly, hands lowering as he tried to take note of the situation. Sun Wukong gasped when he saw six ears unfold, the tiny lil appendages glowing softly in the night. The macaque stiffened when he heard the gasp, he turned towards the King (his striking golden eyes piercing Sun Wukong's very own being) and hissed.

“W-wait, I'm not gonna hurt-” Sun Wukong didn't have time to end his sentence, the lil guy took something from his makeshift sling (something resembling a vial) and threw a handful of powder in the King's face. Sun Wukong coughed, and accidently let the lil guy escape. The sage wanted to go after the lil macaque but he was seized by a sudden headache and fell on his butt.

As his eyes closed and slumber overtook him, Sun Wukong thought of those striking eyes and felt his heart skip a beat.

He was in love.

Next

[hiwelcometothemonstersancturary]

weñl since I'm new to the AU and already ate every post.... Could you drop some lore of The Prototype and his link to the toys? (especially with Catnap seeing as how he recently calls him "dad" but I wonder how before he allowed Theo to consider him a God and worship him)

For my AU, the Prototype was originally Elliot Ludwig himself. He had an adopted daughter and lost her due to an illness, and then had the brilliant idea to start dubiously ethical experiments in order to bring her back. He eventually volunteered himself to be the first human to become a toy, only to realize, far too late, that without him in charge mr. Harley "what is ethics if not another rule to break in the name of SCIENCE" Sawyer would go "what if i broke every single rule Elliot ever imposed on me". Also I have adopted @lassieposting's hc about Elliot being a military veteran, which is important for this because now this man feels like he, once again, is seeing a tragedy that should have never existed at ALL.

Prototype took care of little Theo/Catnap as if he were his own son (also taken from lassieposting because good headcanons are GOOD headcanons), and after the Hour of Joy and him realizing that the toys can't go outside without risking even more death and people hunting them, he taught Catnap how to hunt. After he learned how to look after himself Catnap became more independent, and Theo was always a kind of religious boy, and that combined with him seeing Prototype as a hero made him undergo the biggest catholic moment in the history of Playtime Co.

Prototype doesn't like being called a god, but Catnap doing that did help him impose more rules on the toys ("don't go outside so humans won't find us and capture us again", "don't torture each other even if you are really hungry", "if you see a human kill it and give it to me so we can all have food"). Unfortunately their distance grew as time went on, and Prototype just. Never actually tried doing anything to stop Catnap from being like That. Again, it was helping him, and he sees Catnap as the child he failed to protect, and he just never knew how to address the elephant in the room. This entire situation was 100% Prototype's fault for not attempting to sit down with Catnap and tell him to cut it off.

Prototype has a trillion communication issues, honestly. For this AU he helped deliver Poppy's call for help to the Player/Angel, not that she knew that, because he decided that everyone had enough. He wanted someone to save the toys, even if by "saving" it meant "killing them off", because Prototype figured it was better than being alive in that nightmare.

And then Angel saved Huggy, throwing Prototype's whole plan away.

And then Bunzo, the mini huggies, PJ Pug-a-Pillar, and then Mommy Long Legs, and then Miss Delight and Dogday, and then Catnap, even when the big feline begged Prototype to end his suffering. The Angel took care of all of them. They never dared leave anyone behind.

Prototype changed his plan for it to just be for him to die, because he caused everyone to become a toy. He deserved that fate more than anyone, at least in his eyes.

And then Angel convinced him to live. The deal they made was for Prototype to help them take care of everyone and stop anyone from ever find all the documentation about how the experiments were done, and only just enough info for the humans outside to know the toys are alive and were previously innocent children. After Angel finds a bigger house, Catnap convinces Prototype to come in with them, and he reluctantly agrees.

It'll be really funny when Angel realizes Poppy was Elliot's daughter, because our favorite porcelain doll does NOT know Elliot is the Prototype. Actually, NO ONE knows that, not even Catnap himself. When Angel finds out they DEMAND Prototype to talk to Poppy because what the HECK, you already failed to communicate with one kid and now you fail to communicate with ANOTHER?

Anyways, family drama aside, Angel and Prototype unironically make a very good parent duo. Prototype knows how the toys work, while Angel knows how to be gentle and assuring. They teach the other a lot about what to do, but the majority of the toys are too afraid to talk with Prototype to learn that he's Father Material If You Ignore The Communication Issues. Catnap can confirm!

[hymnserendipity]

Nanami annoyed by the competition of his subordinates

Gender they/them

You and Ino weren't enemies, rather you were always competing due to your praising kink probably. Nanami didn't dispense compliments left and right, but when she came out with a quiet compliment you wrote it down to throw it back at the other. Returning from a particularly difficult mission, you and Ino were hungry for recognition.

"So, who you feel to be the weakear, Yn?" "It's you the loooooseeeeerrrrr" Ino's smirk widened as he chuckled, his arms now on his hips. He shook his head, feigning a sense of disappointment.

"Oh, you think you won this round, huh?" Ino retorted with a sarcastic tone. "Please, you can't even compete with me, and we both know it."

"Nanaaaaamiiiiiiiii" Ino rolled his eyes as he heard your plea for help from Nanami. He let out an exaggerated sigh before speaking up. "Here we go again" Ino said, shaking his head. "Calling for reinforcements, I see. What, did you forget to do something important again?"

"Naaaanamiiiiiiii" Nanami suddenly appeared in the office at the sound of his name, a mildly annoyed expression on his face as he approached the bickering pair. He crossed his arms, letting out a weary sigh. "What is it now, you two?" Nanami inquired, his tone tired yet firm.

"Who Is your favorite????" Nanami raised an eyebrow at the question, his arms still crossed. He glanced back and forth between you and Ino, knowing full well that this question would only antagonize one of you.

"Really? That's what you want to know?" Nanami responded, a hint of amusement in his voice. "It's important Nanamin." Nanami let out a long sigh, realizing he wouldn’t be able to avoid this question. He glanced at Ino, who eagerly watched for his answer, then back at you.

"Neither" Nanami replied bluntly, a slightly teasing tone in his voice. "You’re both equally frustrating in your own ways."

"Ohhhhh cmooooon" Ino crossed his arms in indignation at you sticking your tongue out at him. He rolled his eyes, acting unimpressed but secretly enjoying the playful banter."How mature" Ino remarked sarcastically, shaking his head. "At least I don't go tattle to Nanami every time I lose an argument." "At least i didn't cried when i did my tattooo" Ino's face heated up visibly as you brought up the topic of his tattoo, a sensitive subject for him. He quickly tried to brush it off with a defensive tone. "Hey, it's not my fault my pain tolerance is lower than yours" Ino retorted, trying to save face. "Besides, I was not crying. I was just, uh...tearing up a bit from the pain."

"Gne gneee" Ino rolled his eyes at the way you were mocking him, still feeling a little stung by the mention of his pain during the tattoo session.

"Oh, shut up" Ino retorted, attempting to regain his composure. "It hurt, okay? You try getting needles pricked into your skin for hours on end and see how well you handle it!"

"I had the same spot tattooed and It didn't hurt. Sooo nananananananamiiii" Ino's mouth opened in shock at your claim, his ego bruised further. He couldn't believe that you had the same tattoo in the exact same spot and didn't appear to suffer. "What?! That's impossible" Ino protested, disbelief written all over his face. "There's no way you didn't feel pain. That spot is one of the most painful ones to get tattooed!" Ino's eyes widened in surprise as you lifted your shirt to reveal your tattoo, few paws, in the same spot that he had his. He stared at your bare back for a moment, the tattoo visible against your skin.

"No way..." Ino said in disbelief, his voice betraying a hint of jealousy, secretly admiring the way the ink looked on your skin. "You really didn't feel a thing when you got that done?"

"Exactly. So nananananananamiiii Who Is the strongest? Me or ino???" Nanami had watched the interaction with a mixture of amusement and mild annoyance.

"Ah, back to the strength debate, hm?" Nanami chuckled, his arms still crossed. "Alright, what's this about then? Who do you think I would say?"

"Me." Nanami couldn't help but chuckle again. He glanced at Ino, then back at you, his smirk growing slightly.

"And why do you believe I would say you?" Nanami inquired, amused by your confidence.

"Because i'm actually stronger!!" Ino rolled his eyes at hearing your confident declaration. He couldn't help but scoff a little, still believing he was stronger than you.

"Oh please," Ino retorted, putting his hands on his hips. "You? Stronger than me? Unlikely." "Cmon nananananananananami. Who is the strongest?" Nanami chuckled at the repeated use of his name, the smirk never leaving his face. He knew that no matter what he said, it would likely start a friendly debate between the two of you.

"Alright, alright" Nanami said, feigning exhaustion. "If I had to choose, based on my observations and experience...it seems your strength and abilities are slightly above Ino's."

"YUUUUUUYUUUUUUUUUUUUU" Ino's eyes widened in shock as Nanami declared you the stronger one. He wasn't expecting to be on the losing side, and his ego took a slight hit.

"What?! That's not fair" Ino protested, his face turning a little red. "How am I weaker than them?" Nanami chuckled once again, thoroughly enjoying the exchange between the two of you for once. He raised an eyebrow at Ino's reaction.

"Well, Ino, it's simple. You're good, no doubt about it, but their skill and abilities are just a bit sharper and more refined. That's not to say you don't have room for improvement, though" Nanami responded, his voice slightly teasing.