#they just said it’s not real and I am bawling my eyes out ever since

[itsloveit]

the most heartbreaking part in healing itself is mourning your comfort reality you can’t stay in

[ikeu-ikeu]

im back from the de@d

Notes: Wrote this in a sitting and this is my first time writing… its crap but ill get better eventually

wc: 1672 (woah?)

—————————————————————————

Miss your touch.

“Y/n please i can explain!!” Jake said teary eyed as he attempted reaching out to you, soon turning into a fail as u swiftly moved away from his touch.

“whats there to explain Jake?!” you reply back screaming, you didn’t care if you were loud or if anyone could hear you.

You just didn’t give a fuck anymore.

You walk in tiny circles while grabbing your hair.

“Y/n please calm down and i can explain..please..?” voice wavering

Jake knew what he did was wrong, it was too late for him to realize, though.

“explain what?! that i was just a bet for you and your friends? did you even love me?” you exclaimed while sobbing in between your words.

When you said those words, he went blank. So much to say, but so little could be expressed.

“I’m leaving.” it was a simple sentence but it didn’t fail to make Jake’s hairs go up.

He didn’t even reach for you or fought for you. He only stood and watched as you left your apartment, only bringing your purse and your phone.

As soon as you exited the apartment, thats when Jake started bawling his eyes out.

He never meant for any of this to happen. sure, he did it for the shits and giggles at first but he started gaining real feelings for you. He and his friends called off the bet, saying you deserved better than that. He and his friends regretted ever doing that to you, you were a sweet and kind girl, always caring for your friends and family.

You get in your car but you realize you have no where else to go. You contact your best friend, Sunoo. You guys have been friends since Kindergarten and were inseparable. Even now, you guys are still close. Although you guys aren’t siblings, both of you have always treated one another as siblings.

After you told him some details via call, he agreed to let you stay at his house.

The ride to his house was a daze, everything that happened in the past hour was a haze.

You arrived at his doorstep and rung the bell, he opened the door and took in your state.

A mess. You looked like a mess. your hair was a mess, your eyes were so red, mascara running down your eyes. Your lips were swollen from all the biting trying to conceal your cries.

He hugged you. That’s all it took for your eyes to start watering up.

“Shhh, don’t be sad. It’s okay. I’m here with you.” Sunoo said, whispering in your ear while caressing your hair in a calming manner. You cried even harder, you hugged him back and gripped his shirt hard.

All he could do was just stare and listen to your painful sobs, he’s never seen you in such a state before. He brings you in and sits you down on the couch in his living room.

“Wait for me here, i’ll give you some water okay?” Sunoo said, after gaining a nod of approval he quickly sprints to the kitchen and quickly comes back with a glass of very much needed water.

“Drink up, Y/n, i don’t like seeing you sad”

You accept the glass from his hand you started chugging the water.

After calming down for awhile you told him about everything that happened.

“So Jake only got with you as a bet? What about those 5 months you were together?! What a fucking jerk!!” after Sunoo heard the words that left your mouth, his blood was boiling. He never knew someone could be such an asshole.

“Can we move on over this topic please? i wanna forget about it.. can we watch a movie?” you say, frown evident in your voice

Without a second thought Sunoo turns the tv on, ready to watch any movie you desired.

3:56 am.

Jake feels like a piece of shit, He is a piece of shit. He’s been drinking to numb down the pain in his heart, he knows the pain he’s feeling will never compare to what you’re dealing with.

Drinking. He promised to stop drinking once you 2 got together. It was a really bad habit of his, but without, you who’s here to stop him now?

His whole body feels numb, his eyes are so red and puffy, he feels dizzy and his heart ached for you. He feels his heart shattering every second when he thinks back to what happened, the tears that stained your face, your voice was breaking every second. Your eyes, oh, your beautiful eyes that he loved so much, were spilling tears and it never seemed to stop.

Shit, he was crying again. But, he deserves it, does he?

He goes in your shared bedroom, all your belongings were still there, all the photos from previous events hung up on the wall, still there. The plushies that he gave you for your monthsary? still there. All the memories from the past months. It was all there.

He sat down on the queen sized bed, it felt so lonely without you. He missed your cute little snores. He missed seeing you wake up with messy hair. He missed waking up to your kisses on his cheek.

He laid down on the bed and grabbed your plushie from your 1st monthsary. He remembers it so well, you looked so beautiful that day. You were always beautiful.

He looked at the plushie, his vision went blurry.

He was crying again. He hugged the plushie, it smelt like you, it made him cry even harder. He cried himself to sleep like a baby, not knowing what they’re feeling. He had been crying till sunrise, his eyes were swollen and red. After all that he went to sleep, plushie engulfed in his arms.

You woke up at noon, you and had Sunoo stayed up late watching horror movies together and played games. It made you forget about the events prior.

You knew you had to return back to your shared apartment with Jake to get your belongings. It really shouldn’t be that hard considering you have a spare key that he gave you on your 2nd monthsary.

“Are you sure you’re going back there? i mean, i can get your stuff for you, if you’d like.” Sunoo said after you told him what you were gonna do.

“It’s okay, Sunoo. I can go alone, thanks for being concerned though. I appreciate it.” you said as you hugged him a goodbye before you left his house.

“Message me if you need me okay? stay safe y/n.” he hugged u back and patted your back, wishing you well on your journey.

It had been 6pm since you left his house. It’s now 6:54pm, you grabbed your spare keys and tried to open the door. Usually, Jake would be at work in this time, so you weren’t that worried bumping into him.

You entered the apartment. Nothing seemed out of place.

Then you saw it. The beer bottles.

You had forbid Jake from drinking and seeing all the bottles made you feel different emotions at once. Not a problem, you think. You open the door to your once shared room, not expecting to see him but there he was.

Peacefully asleep on the bed was Jake. His eyes were puffy and he was hugging the plushie he got you.

You softly gasp. He looked so vulnerable when asleep, you always adored him when he was asleep. The cute snores and his pink lips forming into a pout.

You’ve always loved Jake’s lips, loving the way they felt on your lips, on your nose, on your forehead and on your cheeks.

Well, seems like the gasp wasn’t as soft as you expected, as you looked at Jake he started to wake up and take in what was happening.

His eyes were blinking from just being newly woken up. His eyes were red from the whole night of crying. Now he had a headache from drinking too much.

“y../n.?” he says weakly, his voice cracking.

You just stand there and stare at him, debating whether you should cry and hug him, saying you missed him so much or whether you should slap him and tell him he’s an asshole and start collecting your belongings, wanting to leave the place as soon as possible.

But, looking at his current state, you didn’t wanna.

He was pale, his lips were dry and he had disheveled hair. He looked like a wreck. You can tell he hasn’t eaten in hours. All you wanted to do was cuddle him, and that you did.

Without another word, you walk your way towards the bed and lay down with him and you started to cuddle him, his face buried in your chest. You start caressing his hair and kiss his head. No words were exchanged. He was trembling under your touch, He started to break.

He tried holding back the tears but he couldn’t. He broke down crying, he hugged your waist tightly, holding you closer as if you were gonna disappear.

You’ve never seen him this broken before, you started crying with him too. His and your cries mingling with one another. He had been saying stuff but it was hard to understand, he had been saying ‘sorries’ and ‘love you’s’ in between sobs and sniffles. It got so bad he started hiccuping.

Fuck, who knew that seeing him so wrecked in this state could break your heart even more?

You just took it cuddled him till he calmed down.

Too bad it didn’t last for long, who would’ve known that was gonna be the last time you 2 cuddled together?

He knew that would be the last time he’d see you, but he didn’t expect you to go so soon.

You left the apartment 30 minutes after Jake fell asleep, feeling certain emotions. You didn’t wanna leave him alone, but it was for the better.

You were gonna miss him, that’s one thing for sure.

—————————————————————————

[madarasgirl]

Twin Flames

Read on AO3

Warnings: modern AU, “sugar daddy,” romance, alcohol consumption, eventual smut but smut is not the point, Madara x Nurse!Reader

What was life if not mundane? Until one day he barreled into your life and flipped it over. Nothing will ever be the same. You didn't belong to the same world, but the heart will yearn for what it wants.

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

The idea for this story (which will be part of a larger work) came from after an annoying shift at work when my friends and I were joking about what we were doing with our lives. This should be the most light-hearted part of the series I have in mind. Thinking of Madara as a sugar daddy was hot to me, so I needed to somehow get you to him. By no means am I encouraging anyone to become a sugar baby or glorifying these relationships with inherently unbalanced power dynamics in real life. And definitely don’t do anything potentially unsafe. DNI IF THIS THEME OFFENDS.

Inspiration was also drawn from the beautiful epic song "Star Sky," by the amazing group Two Steps from Hell. It is about two mirror souls reincarnating and finding each other through lifetimes, even if separated from age to age by time and death. The style of music renders the lyrics hard to elucidate, so you may need the lyrics separately on the side to make them out.

Word count: 4596

Chapter 1

You were so pissed after this night shift, everything that could have gone wrong going wrong. It was like the stars tried to align and screw you over. At least it was over, until next time. Fire in your veins, you stomped through the locker room to change. Part of you wanted to scream, while the other wanted to cry. Perhaps doing both wouldn’t be inappropriate either, given the circumstances. You stopped your turbulent rampage, trying to calm yourself so you didn’t slam something.

“Y/N. Let’s go out. We deserve it after all that,” your beloved friend Jasna said.

“Are we day drinking now? Here I was thinking there are still some things we are above doing.”

“Buddy, I meant breakfast. You’re already skipping ahead to tonight.”

You were about to make some sort of excuse to escape any social obligations at this time, but the alternative of going back to your empty home to collapse and bawl your eyes out the moment the door closed, which you knew you were going to do, held equally little appeal. Your stomach growled at you in disapproval, reminding you of your neglect since early yesterday evening.

You sighed, “Fine. Let’s do it. We have to eat sometimes anyways.”

“Hehe! I knew you still had some reason in you after your earlier outbursts!”

----------

Your party of two sat down at your favourite breakfast diner and ordered. Suddenly you were bone tired now that you had a chance to sit. What were you even doing with your life? Day in and day out, the same thing, 'saving people.' Were you even doing that? It was so often just one hopeless case after the other, like keeping bodies ‘alive’ while they slowly flushed themselves down the drain until they finally croaked. Such was nursing. It was soul-crushing work at times. And so meaningless at others.

“—And they even doubled my assignment. ‘It’d be a good double,’ they said. The moment they say that, you know it’s over! I was sent to OR at the beginning of the shift with my first patient while my other guy kept trying to pull his lines out. Luckily he didn’t get to his dialysis line or his central line or it’d be an even bigger disaster!”

Jasna was right. It wasn’t a good double. There are still way worse assignments. Your train wreck of a patient died, and you and whatever help the unit could muster last night spent hours using every resource trying to resuscitate a body you knew was long gone. Your back was STIFF from the CPR.

The workload only ever got heavier with no relief in sight. Only the sense of comradery with your fellow coworkers, especially the best nurses in the world, kept you going. You trusted them to have your back when things spiraled downhill with your patients’ lives and even with your own, if you were ever to end up a patient. They were always the only ones who truly understood when you needed to rant to each other.

Jasna suddenly snorted at you when you made a disparaging comment about her last patient. “Y/N! Shush, don’t let the higher powers hear you!”

“Well fire me then! I DARE THEM!” It was true. The ‘higher powers’ were more desperate for nurses to work than they had nurses wanting to work. “What are we even doing with our lives? We only keep going back because we hate ourselves but we want to see our work friends. And to put some food on the table.”

“If they’d just pay us more instead of themselves, they wouldn’t have half the problems they have. But of course, we just work there and nothing ever makes sense with the administration.”

"What else could we do?” You exhaled in exasperation. “I’m already in school again for my Master’s, but it’s only making things worse. I can’t take as many shifts as I used to.”

“I guess the only option left is to marry rich, ha!"

You rolled your eyes. “Any more sensible suggestions?”

“It’s plenty sensible,” Jasna huffed. “Try a sugar dating site…sometimes a girl needs to eat.”

You got quiet, remembering the trying times of being a nursing student, when between the needs of studying, preparing for exams and assignments, the long hours of clinical placement, and a part-time job, making ends meet was an almost impossible challenge for those without a safety net. Jasna had none, and needed to live, obviously.

“I am too old to be a sugar baby."

"Stop saying that! 29 isn't even old. I'll be your age in a few years." She played at being indignant.

To be honest, Jasna’s situation then was not quite different from your current predicament. Your Master’s of Nursing program was even more expensive than her Bachelor’s. The scholarship covered most of the tuition, but you still had to live. Rent to pay, food, any number of other miscellaneous items. Hospitals wanted more Nurse Practitioners and other specialized nurses, but there was no financial assistance, not when they also needed more nurses to toil at the bedside. With your course workload, even going from full-time to part-time at your current job left you in a rut. Not enough time for school. Not enough time to work and garner wages. You were at an impasse. And so, so tired.

You had no more fire in you for tonight. You sighed, thinking back on when you used dating apps in your early adult days, swimming through countless messages spamming "Hi" or "Baby you're hot, let's fuck" to find one decent message. Clearly nothing came out of it. How disappointing and tedious it all was.

“You’re thinking about it. I can tell.” Jasna gave you a knowing look.

“Nah. As if I want to make more time for something like dating. Clearly, time is what I’m always short on.”

“You do whatever you need to, I’ll be here. You could always just start a profile to check it out.”

The two of you wrapped up your meal and said your goodbyes. Until the next time you worked together again.

You stepped into the shower when you got home, steaming water erasing the grime of the night. The hot water temporarily soothed your worries and eased the tension from your muscles. It felt so good to be out of those dirty scrubs. Finally relaxing, your mind wandered back to your conversation with Jasna. You could just make an account, she was right, and flip through a few profiles. It was the kind of low commitment you could adhere to for awhile. It felt like a lifetime ago since you’ve last been with a man in any capacity.

It will be the same, just expect nothing. If the bar of expectation was already on the ground, there was only ‘up’ to go, so you couldn’t be disappointed, right? And you could just ignore whatever unsavory messages that came your way.

----------

“Brother, you need to go out more. You look more and more like an old man day after day, always so serious and disapproving. Your wrinkles are going to start showing.” A handsome young man stepped into the opulent study, raven hair down, freed from the ties of its usual low ponytail.

“And you need to dedicate yourself less to my extracurriculars, and more to business now that you’re feeling well. There are contracts to be negotiated.” Sharp eyes turned to acknowledge the newcomer to the room. The man at the huge mahogany desk put down his fountainpen, elegant script dancing across the plush papers he worked on. 

“I would if you had extracurriculars to speak of. As it is, I feel obligated to arrange activities for you, lest you rupture an aneurysm in your old age and stress.”

“Old age?” He was in his thirties.

Izuna grinned, knowing he was getting under Madara’s skin. And knowing equally well he could get away with things when it came to his stern brother, things that he wouldn’t let slip with others.

Madara was mildly irritated, but he’d play along, for now. Staring down his nose at his brother, he asked, “Hn. Then I’ll amuse you. What do you have planned for this old man which might alleviate his woes?”

“Don’t worry. I’ve always got your best interests at heart. We could set you up for a moonlit dinner date–“

“Out of the question. Why would I suffer the presence of some blathering fool? You should know I haven’t the time for frivolous activities such as—”

“—I even made you a dating profile on this website.”

“You did what?”

His brother, ever the cunning fox, grinned again as if he was feeling sheepish. “You’re now publicly an eligible bachelor looking for a lucky lady friend to spoil on a sugar daddy dating site. Would you like to know your username?”

“…” For once, Madara was at a loss for words. Out of all the ridiculous antics Izuna pulled over the years, never had he done anything on a public platform. They hailed from the Uchiha family for goodness sake. They had an image to maintain, even if not on principle, then at least for the unsullied reputation demanded in their business relationships.

Izuna was starting to sweat. Did he go too far? But this time, it wasn’t just a childish prank. “Look, I even found several excellent potential matches.” He pulled out his phone and booted the app to show Madara.

…It was you.

“Do you see something you like Madara-oniichan?” the brat was trying hard not to let the corners of his lips lift in mirth and failing miserably.

“…I think I should like to put you back in the hospital myself if you’d like to see your nurse so badly.” He glared furiously at his little brother, who was at times more trouble than he was worth. If he could kill with just a glance, Izuna would have combusted on multiple occasions already.

His mind jumped back to those months in the hospital long ago. In retrospect, he wished he got to know you more when he was visiting. But he was so overwhelmed by Izuna's state of injury, he was completely unavailable and nothing would have reached him at the time. Everything began with Izuna. Everything revolved around Izuna, his only remaining living member of family.

There had been a huge healthcare team involved in Izuna's recovery, and multiple units too, though they spent the longest in the ICU. After many months in the ICU, they made it to step-down, then transferred to the wards, and finally months of rehab. It’s been several years since then, and Izuna is finally looking as he did before the incident.

Throughout that time between healthcare facilities and units, Madara recalled countless smart, attractive nurses both young and older, professional despite the mistreatment by patients, families, the administration, and the system itself. You still stood out to him though. You were also pretty, but the way you carried yourself demonstrated you weren't even aware. You were all the more alluring for that.

Professional, competent, and kind. That was how he remembered you. He recalled when you eased him into a corner of the room as his brother died onscreen to explain what everyone was doing, gently reminding him that others in the room couldn’t hear important communication to each other when he screamed. You calmly explained why no one was shocking Izuna when there was no heartbeat, what medications were being given. There was a way of being firm in your demeanor without being disrespectful. You were so attractive to him. Too bad you were his brother's nurse and he wasn't in the headspace to pursue then.

“Just go for her! The worst that could happen is her rejecting your grouchy ass. What if some other lucky man snatches her up first?” Izuna started. "You see yourself? You've been alone for too long. I can't leave you all by yourself if something were to happen to me again."

Izuna had been drugged out of his mind to help control his pain, ventilation, and agitation. When eventually his sedation medications were weaned off and he woke up, he remembered how tender you were with him. Even the small details, where you saturated his wounds with saline before carefully peeling them back so the old dressings wouldn't rip against his healing wound beds. How you so sincerely apologized for each harder tug and each of his winces, as if you were the one hurting.

He was high as a kite, but some things he still remembered. Like how his brother would sometimes watch you as you worked when Izuna himself was a bit more lucid so Madara would be worrying less about him. No one else would have noticed these minute changes in his brother's behaviour, but they didn't escape him.

“You’re lucky brother. It’s this Saturday at 1900.” He pulled Madara out of his reverie.

 “Now what? What’s this Saturday?”

“Your date of course. I already contacted her and she agreed to see you.”

A fountainpen flew with speed and embedded itself in a thick wooden door as it slammed shut and a cackling laughter disappeared into the distance.

----------

HOLY SHIT. It's HIM. You knew his name. You knew his face. It was Uchiha Madara, older brother to Izuna.

Every member of staff remembered these two. Izuna was a trauma patient transferred from another hospital for more advanced support after the trauma surgeons were finished with him. The extent of injuries was startling. Izuna was on ECMO to bypass and support his non-functional heart. He was also on every other mode of life support: maxed out on multiple pressors, continuous dialysis, massive transfusions... His survival was a miracle.

You remembered how Madara would come day after day to sit quietly by Izuna's side, sometimes bringing his work. He was polite to the staff despite how gravely ill his brother was, and that by itself already earned him a place in your memory. The only time you recalled an outburst from Madara was the first time Izuna coded and his primary nurse and others successfully brought Izuna back to life while you talked to Madara. Over the course of months, everyone on the staff agreed in the most objective way that these brothers were very fine male specimens.

You were anxious and unsure, but of course you agreed to see him at his invitation.

----------

Madara ambled through his large closet, stocked from floor-to-ceiling with enough finery to dress a king. He pondered several outfits, weighing each option against another. A suit and tie? Much too formal. A nice pair of jeans? He couldn’t run the risk of appearing sloppy. A dress shirt? Possibly. He picked up a few other options to match when he heard a click behind him. The pest was back.

“I know how to dress for a woman. I don’t need your help.”

“Relax. I’m only here to see how you’re doing.” Izuna was enjoying himself. It wasn’t every day one got to see Madara mull over his appearance as he did now.

“Did you need to use such a lame pickup line?”

“It worked! It was perfectly fitting. I thought it was cute.” Izuna picked up a brush and ran it through his brother’s locks, as he used to do when they were younger. With just the two of them left in their family, they had no one else but each other. They would take care of each other.

Madara relaxed back into the strokes, even if his mane was already perfectly brushed through and detangled. “It was bordering the boundaries of good taste.”

“But it applied for both of us. She can’t even accuse of me pretending to be you. Can you at least commend me for my genius? And why are you still here? Don’t you need to pick her up?”

“You were masquerading as me. Milady insisted on meeting directly at the restaurant.”

“You didn’t manage to convince her of otherwise? She’s already playing hard to get? Fantastic. Good luck with your courtship!” Izuna performed an exaggerated, swooshing bow with a toothy smile. He wondered if you might eat his softie of a brother alive if he didn’t accidentally scare you away first. It’d be funny, but he hoped you’d be brave enough to endure cracking through his stubborn outer shell and too kind to make his beloved brother suffer too much.

----------

Just on time! You stepped out of your Uber, treading carefully down the steps in kitten heels to ensure the first thing you did wasn’t to face plant in front of your date. You let the hostess know of the reservation Madara made and followed her to a more private section of the lavish restaurant.

Upon making another turn, you didn’t need to be led anymore. It was quieter, not due to the total lack of other people, but because of him. His presence took up the whole room, like it dragged out all the air and it left you breathless.

He was handsome and well-dressed as always. Faintly patterned navy blue dress shirt fitting snugly, outlining the definition in his arms and chest, dark trousers well-tailored, brown dress shoes tying his look together. He was the picture of elegance. Long fingers lifted a glass of wine to his lips and he sipped as he suddenly turned his gaze towards you. Your mouth ran dry as his eyes roved over your body, carefully taking you in.

He wasn’t even trying to hide it! You were at once extremely self-conscious from the intense scrutiny. Does he like what he sees? You continued your stride towards your destiny, even as a million insecurities bloomed within.

Madara couldn’t look away. His eyes traced your form-fitting black dress, following the lines of your bare legs up to your hips and arms, stopping at a graceful neckline to briefly dip back down to stare at the swell of your breasts. His mouth watered into his glass and he was aware he was being vulgar. He put his wine down before he could drop it and ripped his stare towards your face.

You were dazzling.

He took in your pink face and delicate features enhanced by the lightest touch of makeup. He gave a small genuine smile and pushed out of the cushioned chair.

“Y/N. It’s good to see you again. Thank you for coming.”

“Yes thank you for the invitation. I hope you weren’t waiting long.” What were you supposed to do now? How do you date again? He’s a businessman and talks to important people, important people shake hands, right?

You extend your hand towards him in greeting and add, “It’s good to see you again too.”

Madara chuckled and took your hand in his paw, brushing the backs of your fingers with his thumb before bringing your hand up and pressing his lips to the back.

“No, not long at all. I arrived shortly before you did,” he lied.

Lips parting in shock, you froze. This was not the reception you expected! The useless software in your brain ground to a halt, leaving you at a loss for what to do. Seeing your pause, he chuckled deeply again, the sound going straight to warming your face further, and he pulled out the chair for you, already the perfect gentleman. “I apologize if I was too forward.”

You were already flustered and the date had just begun. You gulped and almost uttered a short prayer to yourself to wish for strength. “Umm, no, we’re okay.” You quickly sat down, as if afraid you might fall over after all and looked away to admire the decor. There were thick silver curtains draped intermittently along the walls, chandeliers setting the mood from high ceilings, everything highlighting the centerpiece of the room, the baby grand piano. It was a gorgeous establishment.

He went around the other chair to present you with a masterfully crafted bouquet of fresh, exotic florals. “This is for you.”

When was the last time you received flowers? You were aware of this date originating from a sugar daddy/baby dynamic and Madara was just playing the part, but you still couldn’t help being slightly flattered. “Thank you. They are beautiful.” You accepted the gift and took a sniff of a particularly large bloom and smiled at Madara.

“Good evening ma’am. How are you? My name is Carlos and I’ll be your server tonight. Could I start you off with something to drink?”

“Yes,” you answered a bit too fast and eagerly. Heavens knew you needed something to give you liquid courage. The words barely registered as you looked over the drink menu before ordering the first thing that sounded good. Carlos paused at your request, but ultimately repeated your order before disappearing. Madara was looking at you thoughtfully.

“How have you been?” You asked him.

“It’s more of the usual business. Deals to negotiate, meetings, paperwork. It’s rather unexciting to talk about me. How have you been these past years?” Madara’s reply was brief, curt. He had his chin on his hand, resting his elbow on the table as he scowled with eyebrows furrowed.

Thinking of the Senju and how Tobirama tried to press him in negotiations only this morning left a foul taste in his mouth. Izuna was the one who was the wordsmith and would never lose to a Senju when it came to creating contracts. But Izuna was only recently back in the game and his priorities were backwards. The first thing he did was set Madara up on a date instead of dealing with Tobirama. No matter. With Izuna by his side again, things will take a turn for the better. The date.

He looked up to see you quiet and staring back at him with wide eyes. Shit. He forced his face into a more neutral expression.

“Here is the white wine you ordered ma’am. It is a French wine from the region of Alsace. It starts with notes of orange blossom and honeyed orchard fruits before building into a richer flavour on the palate. It is a delight.”

You eyed Madara’s glass, then looked over the table and groaned. Madara was already drinking wine. And there was already a bottle of opened wine at your table. Great. Now he thinks I’m a bumbling idiot and a drunkard.

“We could use a second bottle at our table, right? I could drink that,” you deadpanned and grabbed your glass, swirling it quickly before tipping it back. “Delicious.” You take hold of the dinner menu to start studying it, still too flustered to be ready to try talking to Madara again. Madara kept a straight face even if he was crestfallen at your anxiety.

This wasn’t going well anymore. Madara cursed himself. He thought they started off alright, but now? He was used to people being nervous in his presence, but he didn’t want you to be so stressed around him. You looked to him like you wanted to run or melt into the scenery. It didn't feel right. He tried to open himself up and appear softer. He uncrossed his arms.

“Don’t worry about the wine, Y/N.”

Should you not? He looked so disapproving and judgmental. You knew some wine was nothing to a man of Madara’s status, but still, you didn’t want to keep embarrassing yourself. You licked your lips when his eyes stayed focused on you.

“I won’t. I could drink that, as I said.” You resisted the urge to face palm yourself, disbelieving of how you just told a man you’re seeing for the first time in years you drink bottles of wine by yourself. Guess who isn’t getting a follow-up date?

He chuckled again deeply in his chest and you wanted to die at how he kept laughing at you. “Let’s get something to eat first,” he said. The two of you resumed your study of the dinner menus and placed your orders.

Madara watched you again, unhappy at your squirming under his gaze.

“It’s been a long time. How have you been, Y/N?” Hopefully talking about yourself, a more familiar topic, would help ease your nerves. He read that in a psychology book long ago.

“You know, still working at the same hospital. Same annoying problems. I went part-time recently since starting my Master’s.” You hoped he didn’t notice your use of the word “annoying.” It wasn’t like you were calling his brother, a former patient, an “annoying problem.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, to make more time for school. I think I want to leave the bedside and get more specialized so I can either teach or become an NP instead.”

He was happy for you. He’d always respected those who had goals and tried to make more of themselves in life. He was genuinely interested in what you had planned for yourself. He sat back in his seat and asked, “That is fantastic news. How do you like your program so far?”

You and Madara continued to make pleasant conversation. Madara was incredibly interested in what you’ve been up to the past years, but he tried not to let his curiosity sound like an interrogation. He was relieved as you appeared increasingly relaxed as dinner went on.

As the meal came to an end, you declined dessert, stating you were already full. Madara went to get the bill, even if you resisted, stating you will pay for yourself. He dissuaded you of such a notion before completing the transaction, leaving you mildly distraught.

“Come. I will bring you home.” Madara smiled warmly at you and offered his arm, observing as you stepped gingerly down the stairs outside the venue while using him as support, ensuring you wouldn’t trip. He opened the door on your side to his fancy car and closed it after you.

You were both quiet in his car, you fidgeting with the hem of your dress and not looking at him, returning to your previously skittish state. Madara was hyperaware of your presence. You really weren't aware of the effect you had on men around you. Even during dinner, multiple men looked your way to bask in your beauty and grace. While he was also taken in by you, all of you and not just your appearance, he wasn’t anxious himself. He wished you wouldn’t be nervous around him –you had nothing to worry about when you were with him.

He pulled up to the drop-off at your condo.

“Thank you for tonight. I haven’t had such a pleasant time in a long while.” His time was filled with either work, managing Izuna, or merely by himself in peaceful tranquility. Madara was sincere.

“Thank you again for inviting me. You were wonderful.” He really was. Despite your blunders, Madara had been kind the entire night.

You glanced up at him, unsure again, but he looked so dashing you couldn’t help it. Would he let you?

You shyly leaned over towards him and Madara immediately took the invitation. His face was mere inches from yours, when suddenly you chickened out and pecked him on the cheek instead. You wished him goodnight and a safe drive home and scampered away, screaming at yourself and how lame you were as you closed the door to your condo.

Madara stared after you, fingers on his cheek where you were moments ago, at first stunned, then beaming in delight.

My brother’s heart wasn’t the only one that stopped when we saw you.

~To be continued~

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

Notes:

I tried to capture the discomfort a normal person would feel when first getting to know Madara. He's seriously intimidating! I’d be nervous too if Madara suddenly dropped into my life, even if he wasn’t trying to kill me and was just being a normal guy. Such is Madara’s presence. Way too intense. I also tried to convey how Madara appears differently in front of loved ones like Izuna and a relative stranger, even if he’s already romantically interested. He really doesn’t know how to express himself well, but he tried. He ended up kind of cute in this one.

By the way, the Reader in this story isn’t me. I’m an ICU nurse in real life, so there are aspects to the character’s thoughts that may resemble mine, particularly with regard to the healthcare system. The frustration and anger there is real, given the current healthcare climate. I sincerely hope I didn’t turn anyone away with my ranting. The Reader is more an amalgamation of different real-life nurses in terms of personality, quirks, and life circumstances which hopefully still comes across as somewhat relatable.

It’s much more realistic for a Registered Nurse who needs extra $ to take a gig with a private nursing company than to go looking for a sugar daddy haha, but I wanted us to meet Madara.

Izuna should have died from his injuries due to cardiac arrest/sepsis/multi-organ failure and be missing parts of his limbs from the epinephrine (one of the pressors that would have been used), but this is fiction and I want good things for him and Madara. So Izuna lives. Come on, as if Madara would find himself on a sugar dating site of his own accord. Of course Izuna was involved.

P.S. This is my first time writing a real fanfiction with a plot in over a decade. I guess Madara inspires me. I found this lighter tone a bit hard to write. Please let me know what you think!

[walder-138]

Hey, Pooks. 👁️👄👁️ sending in questions for the ask game for all of your OCs:

15) Has your OC ever fallen in love before who their intended love interest is, or is the intended love interest their first love?

21) Any embarrassing secrets your OC demands you take to the grave but you will share anyway?

24) What kind of sleeper is your OC? Light or heavy? What side do they sleep on? Do they like to sleep over or under the covers?

Hello again pookie bear 👀 Thanks for the ask I’ll get right to it!

15) Oz (before Melissa) never really experienced true love. Not like he ever sought after it; he swears he’s unlovable 🙃 The closest he got to a loving relationship was with Gloria, Jenny’s mom, but nothing came out of it. Oz was convinced he couldn’t feel real, true, lasting love until he met Melissa.

Annika… doesn’t do that. She tells herself it’s disgusting, since her feelings are “abnormal” and she couldn’t see herself with a man. But you know, Park was the first woman she accepted that she had a crush on. Annika fell head over heels for her, so I guess Park was her first love. However, Annika’s herself, and there ain’t no way her feelings would be reciprocated. So no, Annika’s gonna be alone forever 💀

Abbey’s first love was Lorelai, but doing anything with her was out of the question when Abbey found her again. Lorelai was beyond fucked up by the experiments to the point where she was practically a vegetable, so that relationship was out of the question. Originally, I was thinking about her and Oz being together, but the way I developed the two was completely out of wack with each other. They interact, but it’s only transactional; they’re barely friends.

21) I’ve got two for Oz 💀

After bro went through his selection and was finally about to leave for Rangers school, he had to shave off all of his hair. The hair he’s been growing out for 4 years; it was a an inch below his shoulders. Yeah, dude wasn’t happy about it.

His mom was shaving him while dudebro was in TEARS. He was crying as he watched 4 years of progress go down the drain, the symbol of his teenage rebellion, spread out all over the floor under him. I’m not kidding when I say Oz was bawling his eyes out.

When his mom handed him the mirror, he only started crying LOUDER. The most attractive thing about him, gone. Then, his very young brother was like, “Mama, why is Ozzie bald?” which just added salt to the wound.

The other one was a month before The Incident happened. Him and his subordinates got cans of baked beans for chow, and Oz was the only person excited, as they were one of his favorite foods. Keyword: Were.

So he takes out his knife, and starts getting the top off. He pops the chain, opens it, and there was about 15 roaches crawling around in it. Oz SCREAMED, threw the can into an open field, then threw a grenade at it.

Any time one of his men would bring it up, he’d put them on lavatory duty.

For Annika, it was during her time as Bell/Diana. That one part with Krauss (think that was his name?) and her and Adler were on top of the building looking for the mf who was working with Volkov.

She made herself look like a jackass in front of Adler. Girl could NOT find him for about 10 minutes despite him being right in front of the building. (I was genuinely tweaking during this part it was so annoying 💀)

“Motherfucker. You said he was at the checkpoint, but these guys all look the same.”

“Briefcase? Like 40 of these guys have brief cases, asshole.”

“I AM LOCKED FIRMLY ON THE CHECKPOINT. I HAVE SEEN ABOUT 10 MEN. NONE OF THEM HAVE BRIEFCASES.”

“How can you see him? It’s pitch black outside and you’re wearing sunglasses. Are you fucking high?”

“Okay, jackass. If you see him, then why don’t YOU take the picture???”

“Bell, in front of the checkpoint.”

“I JUST SAID- oh. Whoops.”

Yeah that was so embarrassing for Annika 💀. Krauss was deadass right in front of her 💀 Not my proudest moment.

For Abbey, it was right after Agent Guinevere Foster (currently Director Foster of the Organized Crime Unit) officially and legally adopted her. Abbey was still trying to get the gist of social interactions and didn’t quite understand when it was inappropriate to interrupt somebody.

Agent Foster was in a very important meeting, and she had to leave a 16 year-old, fresh out of what seemed to be a cult, socially inept Abbey at her desk as the meeting was confidential. Abbey was extremely attached to the woman, and didn’t exactly understand personal boundaries with the people she loved yet.

So, Abbey barged into the room with confidential documents scattered across a desk with a pained expression on her face. She called out for Guinevere, almost in tears, in a room full of high-ranking FBI agents because she thought she broke something. The agents in the room were looking at Abbey like 🤨 cause who freaks out over that. I tell you, Abbey was clinging onto Guinevere whilst BEGGING for forgiveness infront of maybe 40 people 💀

Guinevere was almost fired for that shit, and made sure Abbey knew that.

24) Funny, Oz doesn’t sleep. He’s scared of the dark, and when he does manage to fall asleep, he has nightmares of both Vietnam and the damned Russians. He typically sleeps on whatever side has more room on the floor (if that makes sense? Like not pressed against a wall or smtg?) because the nightmares he has sometimes cause him to wake up feeling like he needs to vomit. Oz slept with a sheet on the bed and a jacket on top of him and called it a day. No pillow, and he usually curls up into fetal position. He also snores 💀

That was, until him and Melissa started sharing a bed 👀 (one of them are gonna be leaving that room pregnant and it ain’t gonna be Melissa)

Annika can fall asleep anywhere. I mean, as a kid she’d sleep in a trunk to the sounds of gunshots at least once a week and she was fine. Fine as in able to sleep, not as in being mentally sound.

Her preference though? A cold, dark, cramped space with a shit ton of blankets on top of her. Girlie either sleeps like a rock or tosses and turns all night. No in-between. Wondering where all the blankets are? On the blanket vortex, and she’s curled up under a table. Go ahead, try to take one. She won’t bite you.

Abbey needs to have her bed set up a certain way to be able to sleep soundly. She has a busted up stuffed platypus that Guinevere picked up at a flea market to help Abbey calm herself. Abbey still sleeps with it almost every night. She can’t sleep without it.

As for her bed, she lays on a soft blanket, 3 pillows, and a thin blanket covering her while she sleeps on her stomach. Her bed is not far from her desk, as she tends to do some (a lot of) paperwork before going to bed. She keeps a coffee maker with a mug she hasn’t washed in god knows how long on it.

[nerdydowntherabbithole]

Okay, I've sent a lot of asks talking about my stuff, but I need to take a moment to say thank you.

I've only recently got into making art, and up until now it was slow going. Sometimes I just wouldn't have the energy to draw, or I straight up couldn't think of anything that I wanted to draw. But then I stumbled onto "Taking Life As Is" and it energized something in me.

I've been pumping out new art of completely original creatures at a ridiculous rate, taking the time to actually research real life animals for reference, something I've rarely had the patience to do before.

I can't believe it's only been 3 days since that ask where I came up with One Thousand Silent Eyes, the first OC to ever leave my brain. In 3 days, I've filled eleven whole pages of my journal. That blows my mind.

So thank you. Thank you for the wonderful story in a fandom that is desperately short on those, but more than that, thank you for inspiring me. For the first time in years, I'm creating things for myself, instead of consuming things made by others.

Without your wonderful story and constant shared excitement for not just my ideas, but everybody's awesome ideas, I don't know how long I would have gone without that drive to create. Thank you. <3

(Sorry if this is too serious or self-important, I tend to ramble when I need to express what I'm thinking. Dont feel any pressure to answer this if you dont want to!)

HI HELLO. UH. I needed to go lay down for a min after this so I didn't just outright start bawling my ACTUAL eyes out in a /srs way. And I just can't say enough how little my expressions of gratitude will not live up to the feelings I got. I can type abt screaming and sobbing all I want but AUGH that does NOT live up to it. So all I can do is say thank you thank you THANK YOU. Like I've stated before, I started TLAI as just. A silly little fix it fic that, I am going to tell you now, I thought I would barely get over 100 kudos in like. A month or two. My writing experience is basically sequestered to fandoms that have zero members other than myself and my dear friends, making small drabbles for said friends. AND UH. YEAH. AS YOU CAN SEE IT HAS GONE A LITTLE OUT OF THAT RANGE BY NOW. It is ABSOLUTELY guys like u that keep me motivated and confident in my own work. It is beyond the highest honor for me to ever hear that I have actively inspired ANYONE, honestly. Especially to this degree. It is BEYOND wild. Especially because your stuff is so GENUINELY massively awesome. It is so cool. I would have never guessed that you haven't just been doing this forever. SO UH YEAH. MUTUAL SAP. IM TAKING YOU BY THE SHOULDERS AND SHAKING YOU. THANK U SO MUCH. I NEED TO GO AND CRY NOW.

[followmythoughts]

a gun 12/9/23

This might seem really depressive and not-me(?) but these are somewhat my real thoughts, just turned it a bit more literature(y) for the sake of this.

It’s almost Christmas. I don’t have the motivation to pour out all my thoughts, let alone write it all but I will try to; because tomorrow, I will probably forget all about this.

It’s Christmas season, it’s where the air starts to get a little bit cold and you have to double your blankets, it’s the season where families from all over the world come rejoice and celebrate the holiday. It’s Christmas, and one thing you associate with Christmas is gifts. I am not gonna lie — I am privileged. Privileged enough to ask for money whenever I want and eat properly everyday. Privileged enough to be given money, clothes and etcetera on Christmas. I am thankful, really, yet sometimes I think that it could’ve been better if they had asked me what I wanted for Christmas so I’d really get what I want. But I backtrack: because I am already blessed with gifts that some people don’t and simply do not have the privilege to have. But not for that only reason, I backtrack because what in the world would be their reaction be if I said I wanted to get a gun?

What would the looks on their face be? Horrified? Terror? Dismay? I’m unable to imagine how their facial expressions would appear in such a situation.

But please, don’t be alarmed. I don’t want a gun for reasons such as wanting to off someone or wreak havoc in this peaceful city. No, it’s simply for me. I’ve always wanted a gun ever since December 2020. That’s where my depressive season started. Dec 2020 until June 2022, I was miserable. Until now, I still am but it’s not as harsh as the past years. It’s coming back though. The depressive state is coming back.

Because of this state, I’ve always wanted a firearm. I hoped for one back then. I cried and cried, wishing that it would just magically appear under my pillow.

The reason is simply and well: you might’ve already figured it out.

Simply because if things felt like hell on earth (again) I can simply grab the gun and off myself. It is a cowardly move, because in an outsiders point of view they would think that, yeah - shouldn’t you, shouldn’t I stay positive? It’s honestly easy for you to say because you were not in my position. There was nothing worse than bawling my eyes every night and pretending stuff was okay in daylight. Pretending I was okay and not rotting inside, faking an appetite and didn’t even bother taking care of myself properly. Mentally and physically. It truly felt like hell on earth because I can still vividly remember sobbing in front of my grandmother — the person who raised me — babbling on how I was so sorry that my family had me and how I truly am sorry for all the inconveniences I have done to their life. I still feel like that sometimes. Deep down, I still do. It was fucking hell because I kept apologizing repeatedly everyday and no one knew a single thing about how I felt. I hugged a blanket tied into a knot, ready to hang but I was a coward, and all I could do was cry.

I had no one for me, not even friends. I was in a private school, and it was expensive. Yet, I stopped attending the online classes. It was my 6th grade classes. The year where I should’ve graduated properly. But I didn’t. My parents wanted me to go to high school so bad but I couldn’t because I had no grades. The school suggested to let us pay 20k for graduation or go back and retake 6th grade.

I wanted to fucking kill myself.

It was already so bad but that was the fucking catalyst. I don’t know where all this sudden depression started, it just creeped on me. Maybe if my cousin hadn’t assaulted me back then, I wouldn’t have grown so early: I wouldn’t have grown up so early, and at such a young age I already had a matured mind. It didn’t help that my younger sister was born when I was still 6 years old. The responsibilities took over my childhood. 7 years old yet I already felt 25. I was spiraling deep inside. We were already struggling financially because of the pandemic and because of me, we had to lose 20k. For what reason? For me to graduate elementary. I told them that I can just retake 6th grade and they don’t have to pay just because of my own foolishness, but the good family they are, they paid because I could’ve been left behind and they didn’t want that to happen to me. So they sacrificed money.

I just wanted to die and disappear.

That’s where the gun comes in. I desperately begged God, or whatever is up there to let me get what I want. I begged for two things: to let me go back in the past, or let a gun magically appear underneath my pillow. I was still foolish. Yes, I matured fast but I was dumb to hope that one of those wishes would come true. I wanted to go back in the past to at least experience my childhood - the one that was taken away from me - just one more time. I wanted to have a gun just so I could end my suffering. Sure 6 years old, and to get a younger sister was alright. It was a huge age gap, and I could’ve managed. But I didn’t. I didn’t know why.

But deep down, I know. I know why. I wanted to be an only child. I wanted to be pampered. I didn’t have it in me to act like an older sister to somebody when I wanted to have somebody. I wanted an older figure.


So, everything - it all stems from me, deep inside.

Why was I born such a fucked up person?

The assault, I was only 5 years old and I didn’t know anything. My cousin did. I lost my virginity at such a young age. He was the one who did it and he was old enough to know what he was doing. I sometimes think that maybe, I could’ve just dreamt it when I was a child because me and that cousin still talk up until now. And he acts normally. Maybe I made it all up? Maybe he forgot? Maybe he’s playing dumb like I am? Maybe it was just a horrible dream? If it was a dream, then why do I still remember and feel so vividly?

Thanks, ya, for being one of the reasons on how I became like this. As I’m typing this, I hear ur voice outside and it sickens me to see you act so happily, not knowing (or maybe you know) that you ruined a child’s life.

I was in such a depressive state, that I just wanted to end it all. Up until now, I still do, but this feeling isn’t as harsh as to how I felt back then. Everything changed when face to face classes returned. I was afraid at first, not knowing how to socialize but as time passed by, I warmed up. I returned to the old pandemic me. The 2019 me, the real me. But due to the pandemic, It ruined parts of me that I still can’t fix and maintain such as my teeth. It’s one of the reason of my low esteem right now. I hate the pandemic, yet it serves as an extreme comfort. The reason to why I survived the pandemic was due to my discord friends and anime. You might call me a weirdo but they were genuinely the reason to why I didn’t give up.

Fast forward to 2023 Christmas. I’m not okay. This state has been coming back lately and I feel like absolute shit these days but it’s fine. It has gotten better before. It will get better again. There are some instances, like right now, where the old me slips through and I find myself desperately begging for a gun just so when I can’t take it anymore I have the easy way out. (And traumatize my family, lol. Imagine their faces when they wake up to see myself covered in blood with a gun in my hand) It’s a coward move but thats how all I’ve learned. To be a coward. So please don’t blame me.

I’m sorry to my family. I’m so sorry that I have been an inconvenience all this time and I am a lazy worthless piece of shit but I hope you guys know that I’m trying. Mental health really is a bitch sometimes. I am trying, really. It takes time so please be patient with me. I don’t know when everything will start to get better again but I wish that someday, one day, the time will come where I don’t remember the feeling of being miserable anymore.

It has gotten better before. It will get better again.

Sincerely,

Chaessel Anne Mhae V. Arisgado

11:30 PM DECEMBER 9 2023 SATURDAY

[aubigney]

the age old question.

[posted 8 days ago]

a couple of days ago, i moved my desk out from the wall and set my chair behind it. this means there will be a new set up for my youtube videos. begone, couch that made my hips hurt so badly i couldn’t move for days! avast!

but as i sit here sobbing my eyes out, with a clear view of the kitchen where my wife makes coffee, i have to reflect on whether things really do ever change. i mean, have i changed? i made an error, and when someone called me out on it, i burst into tears and i’ve been crying for about 20 minutes. what the hell, dude.

i want to tell myself to grow up, because i should be over this shit by now, but it seems like my rejection-sensitive dysphoria loves acting a mess. i know logically it’s because i haven’t gone to therapy in a while and my old anxieties are creeping back in, but it doesn’t make the anger any less real. it doesn’t make the sadness go away.

i’ve been seeing therapists since 2013, so 10 years now. it will be my 10 year therapiversary in august. in 2014, i started on medication, which changed my life. my therapists all said the same thing: medication doesn’t fix your problems. you still need therapy. and it’s like, brah, i know, shut up, fuck. and i DO know. i know this. i know this so well. the irritation i feel at having to remind myself of this for the last 10 years compounds every year. and yet i never learn. i never remember until i’m bawling my eyes out and throwing things.

i feel like a failure. realistically i know i’m just, in the words of jason mendoza, pre-successful, but i feel like i’ve tried and failed at so many things that i should just give up completely. i feel like this with each one, but somehow i never do. i never give up completely. no matter how many mistakes i make i am never satisfied with living an ordinary life.

AND THAT’S THE POINT! it’s not about NOT making mistakes. it’s not about having an easy life. it’s about making mistakes and overcoming all the shit garbage stupid crap that you go through to become extraordinary. and i do believe i’m extraordinary. and i do believe it’s okay to cry every once in a while. and i do believe it’s important, necessary, and — i can’t think of another word, so insert one yourself — to make mistakes. but when i get like this, it’s so easy to beat myself up and say, “you’re an awful piece of shit and you should just kill yourself.” it’s so easy. but then i do something fun and get over and get on with my life.

while it would be easy to say my life is shit garbage and everything sucks and i should kill myself and nothing ever gets better, none of that is true.

i’m looking at my perfect beautiful hot wife who has THEE most perfect fat ass i’ve ever seen, and she’s washing dishes in the kitchen and making a nice home for us. i can’t possibly believe that my life hasn’t improved because she’s the proof! she’s right there! my gorgeous kitten! my lovely sweet cupcake! she’s right there! and she loves me! i’m the most special person in the whole fucking world BECAUSE SHE LOVES ME.

but i can’t stop crying. i have a lesson in half an hour and i need the money, especially since i was almost fired and my hours have been reduced because of… some reason? but i can’t possibly turn up to my lesson bawling my dick off. i don’t know what to do. another difficult choice i have to make in a long line of difficult choices. they never stop. but i stay silly :3

at the end of every email i want to include a tip for the people in poverty reading my newsletter and paying attention to my youtube channel. i don’t know if they will even be beneficial.

my tip today is: dealing with roaches using bug bombs. in the last apartment i rented before i met my wife, there was a roach infestation under the house. i had a back deck i could sit at and whenever i’d be out there i could see them under the house. i told the owner and the real estate about this constantly. i would get roaches in my apartment every night, around 11pm for some reason, attacking me every time i got of bed. it got so bad that i made myself go to sleep before 11pm just so i wouldn’t see them.

then the owner (who would illegally turn up at the house whenever he wanted) suggested bug bombs. he actually gave me one, which i left sitting on my counter for months because i was so angry that he refused to get rid of the roaches.

but then one day i thought, “fuck it.” this shit wasn’t getting any better. so i put on one of the bug bombs and went to the library. after that, i didn’t see a roach for three months. when they came back, i put another one on. this happened about 4 or 5 times, and it saved me during the heart of summer. granted, my place was disgusting because i never cleaned it, but also it was disgusting before i arrived.

renting is the most horrid experience i can imagine. everything that goes along with it, including dealing with agents, paying rent, and having to look after someone else’s property, is dehumanising and awful. i can’t wait to own my own house, hopefully in spain. i have all these ideas of where we could live and what places to visit, but i don’t know how many of them will come to fruition. we’ll see.

i forgot the question. it’s “am i helping people?” yet to be seen.

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

Prompt idea: Geralt gets a contract for a monster that has been sighted nearby. When he tracks it down, he is surprised to find mothman!Jaskier who (much like actual mothman) has an ass that won’t quit.

?

I just want you to know that Mothskier now lives in my head rent free 24/7. I love him. I would die for him. This is my new favorite emotional support au.

2k-ish words - please feel free to shove comments through the bars of my enclosure, I would really like that

art by the ever-wonderful @mawbwehownets, whose drawing of Mothskier made me legit cry.

tw: mild injury, brief blood mention, strangers to lovers

---

“So what you’re saying,” Geralt raises an eyebrow slowly, curious, “Is that you need me to catch a monster that’s half man and half moth?”

“Yup.”

“Alright,” Geralt pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer finger. The frustrated Witcher takes a slow breath to calm and center himself, before he ends up botching the entire contract-writing process. Humans tend to grow attached to the strangest monsters sometimes, and apparently this mysterious local being was no different. “Let me get this totally straight, so there are no mistakes or misunderstandings. You want me to capture this man-moth and get it out of your woods, but you don’t want me to kill it?”

“He’s called the Mothman, and he’s pretty damn stubborn about sticking around,” the aging farmer corrects Geralt with a little frown. Then his expression shifts and he smiles in a way that seems almost apologetic. “We were hoping you could find a way to relocate him without hurting or killing him, Master Witcher.”

“That’s completely possible, if he isn’t attached to this specific patch trees by any magical or biological means. You said his natural habitat is just… the forest?”

“As long as there's an abundance of pine around he seems pretty happy. Before he came to live with us, Mothman lived in a heavily forested area up the coast; or at least that’s what the historical records and local mythology seem to indicate.”

“That’s actually pretty helpful information to have on hand, I’m impressed,” Geralt nods. “Alright, Mr. Stevens. I promise to relocate the poor thing without killing or maiming him, and I’ll be sure to take him somewhere far enough away that your crops won’t be in danger. Thanks for calling me first instead of just going straight to an extermination service.”

“Honestly, Master Witcher,” the farmer sighs and readjusts his dirty baseball hat, “If it weren’t for the mischief he’s been getting into lately, we would have let him stick around until spring. I hate to admit it to a man as strong and stern-faced as yourself, but the poor creature is almost… adorable at times.”

“Well that’s a first,” Geralt chuckles, honestly amused by the situation he’s found himself in. “A monster being referred to as ‘adorable’ rather than ‘terrifying’. I’ve never heard such a thing in my many years of life.”

“Then you’d better prepare yourself, Sir Geralt. He’s got a pair of big blue puppy-dog eyes that’ll knock you on your ass if you aren’t careful. And that’s coming from a man who raised three daughters with dimples.”

“Hmm. Fuck.”

---

Geralt knows enough about moths to come up with a plan he thinks will work.

Before he heads into the woods to find and capture the poor wandering creature, the Witcher takes a detour through the lighting section of the nearest Lowe’s.

---

Unfortunately for Geralt, the farmer was right about the power of Mothman’s puppy dog eyes, which are big and blue and begin to water as soon as the Witcher’s net knocks him to the ground. The creature lies in a whimpering tangle of limbs beneath the heavy, magically enhanced restraints. Geralt takes an opportunity to look at what the locals called "a cryptid".

Mothman has a long, lithe body that's covered in a light layer of grey-brown fur, but his hair resembles that of a human’s, falling over those enormous blue eyes in a lovely chestnut fringe. When Mothman sees the swords on Geralt’s back he cries out in panicked recognition and tries to pull his arms up far enough to shield his face. The lamp Geralt used to lure him into the clearing is still bathing him in a pool of yellow light; it’s almost pretty for a monster, Geralt notes.

As the Witcher takes a step forward, the cryptid squeaks and buries his face against his own shoulder. His entire frame is trembling.

“Hey there, shhhhh,” the Witcher murmurs quietly. He drops into a squat and holds both hands up to show Mothman that they’re weapon free. Tears are now falling freely down the creature’s surprisingly human face; whoever or whatever this is, they are likely some kind of Fae. “I’m not here to hurt you, I just want to get you back through the veil.”

“Liar,” Mothman huffs. His voice has a surprisingly musical quality to it and Geralt is now sure of his Fae parentage (or grand-parentage).

“I promise I’m not lying,” Geralt reassures him, slowly crawling forward. When he reaches for the nearest corner of the net, he feels all of Mothman’s muscles go tense. “I’m going to lift this up and I am going to restrain you, but I swear that I’m not going to kill you. I wish to cause as little distress as possible. Is that alright, Mothman?”

The creature hisses and yanks his foot back away from where Geralt’s hand had nearly touched it. “Jaskier.”

“Hmm?” Geralt glances up, raising an eyebrow.

“My name is Jaskier,” the Fae repeats, glaring up from between the sections of woven rope that make up the heavy net. “Not Mothman.”

“My apologies, Jaskier,” Geralt bows his head. He words his introduction carefully, in case this thing can manipulate his name like others of his kind: “You may refer to me as Geralt.”

“That’s your real name,” Jaskier states. The Witcher’s head snaps up.

“How did you know?”

“Hmm,” Jaskier sticks his tongue out as he mimics the sound Geralt made earlier. “Not telli-AH! Stop! Oh go- gods, stop! Please!”

Geralt drops the short section of rope he’s trying untangle from around Jaskier’s ankle and snaps his eyes upwards, already searching for damage. “What’s wrong!?”

“My wing!” Jaskier bawls. His scent spikes out through the clearing, sharp with panic and pain. The creature’s chest begins to shake more violently than before, his shoulders shuddering with the rising force of his sobs, “It’s t-t-torn! Oh gods, my wing! Sir Witcher, p-please!”

Geralt freezes, his gaze settling on the torn section of Jaskier’s large, furry wing. It’s a nasty wound near one of the joints, a faint trickle of barely-luminescent blood has already dried around the edges. Jaskier tries to flutter it a little and screams in agony when the muscles shift too suddenly, shrilly enough that Geralt needs to cover his hypersensitive ears. The Witcher's heart crashes down into his boots; based on the way the shivering Fae has gone pale and silent, the pain is too much for him to process. He’s gone into shock.

A torn wing is exactly the kind of thing Geralt had promised the farmer (and the collective of townspeople he represented) wouldn’t happen to the peaceful moth creature if they hired a Witcher instead of an exterminator. He sighs and gives the strange being another once-over. “Everything's alright, Jaskier. You’re going to be alright. I’m so, so sorry that you've been wounded. We’ll get you out of this net and get you something for the pain, but it’s going to hurt a little to untangle you. Stay still, don’t struggle, and it’ll be over soon.”

“J-Just kill me,” Jaskier pants. He’s continuing to hyperventilate and Geralt needs him to calm down before he passes out. The Fae reaches a hand for the dagger at Geralt's waist and the Witcher twists out of reach with a frown. Jaskier sobs again, fingers still seeking, “I might n-n-never fly a-again so just k-kill me!”

“Breathe with me, Jaskier,” the Witcher instructs, forgoing patience and cutting through the net with that same dagger. He scoops Jaskier up into his arms, ignoring the keening sound at the back of Jaskier’s throat when his wing is jostled, and rushes the Fae to his truck, tucking him into the passenger’s seat and wrapping him in a large, fluffy blanket. “I’m taking you to my friend. She’s an expert at healing magical creatures and I'm certain that she'll get your wing fixed in no time.”

Jaskier doesn’t give an answer. When Geralt looks up into the creature’s face again, the injured Fae has already passed out.

---

Jaskier moves with all the grace of a newborn foal as he explores the room Geralt has provided for him. His wing has been inspected, treated, and bandaged by a rather scary sorceress named Yennefer, who glared at the Witcher the entire time she was caring for him. She had also taken one of Geralt’s old t-shirts and cut an enormous hole in the back for Jaskier’s wings to fit through. The shirt’s bottom hem falls to the middle of his thighs and the thick black material is softer than anything he’d ever felt before.

He hears a knock on the door and calls out, “It’s open!”

Geralt enters slowly, bearing a pair of pajama bottoms and a mug of tea. “I brought you some last minute supplies and - uh… I brought you some tea. Yen always likes some before she goes to sleep and I figured since this was a new place and new places can be scary that I should-”

“Thank you,” Jaskier interrupts, smiling shyly. His antennae twitch happily as he takes the offerings from Geralt's hands and the Witcher watches them with wide eyes. Jaskier carefully sets the pajamas and the tea on the nightstand before turning back to look at Geralt. “I will… see you tomorrow?”

Geralt gives one sharp nod. “Hmm.”

“Goodnight,” Jaskier sing-songs, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as Geralt exits.

From the other side of the closed door, Jaskier’s superior hearing picks up the Witcher’s final whisper: “Goodnight, Jaskier. I will always be sorry for causing you pain.”

The next morning he meets Geralt at the breakfast table, refreshed and ready to learn about the human world. He’s summoned a glamour in order to hide his more Moth-like traits, the only things that remain of his true nature are his wings and antennae; his fur is gone and he’s dressed in a pair of sweatpants and that same old shirt. The Witcher offers him a bowl of fruit and mug of something sweet-smelling. Jaskier glares into the mug with a slight pout to his lips before finally asking, “What is this?”

“Hot chocolate.”

Jaskier takes a sip and his antennae flutter, twitching happily as he swallows the best drink he’s ever had in his long life. He eats a strawberry from the bowl and slowly works his way through the hot chocolate, eyeing Geralt warily as the Witcher moves through the familiar kitchen to make his own breakfast.

“Where is Yennefer?”

“She went home,” Geralt shrugs.

“She isn’t your mate?”

“N-No,” Geralt sputters, turning to stare at the nervous young Fae. “Why would you think that?”

“You smell like each other.”

“We spend a lot of time together,” Geralt shrugs again. “Good friends, that’s all.”

“Hmm,” Jaskier mimics his host for a second time. Rather effectively by the annoyed twitch at the corner of Geralt’s mouth. “Just wondering.”

“Anything else you’re curious about?”

“Why don’t you have more lights?”

“Huh?”

“Lights,” Jaskier gestures around the minimalistic layout of Geralt’s open-concept kitchen/living room and its distinctive lack of lamps. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans forward against the dark marble countertop. The pout has gone from 'slight' to 'full-bore' and Geralt is clinging desperately to his braincell with how cute it looks. “It’s no fun.”

“You really like lamps, don’t you?” the Witcher replies, mouth dry. Jaskier huffs and takes another sip of his hot chocolate, antennae flickering back and forth in irritation. Geralt bites his lip to hide a smile; it’s too fucking cute, which is an odd thought for a Witcher to have.

“So what if I do enjoy a nice lamp or five in my living space?” Jaskier argues. "I'm a Moth of taste."

“No matter,” Geralt laughs quietly. “Finish your drink before it gets cold.”

---

Jaskier stays with Geralt for a few weeks while his wing heals, and for a creature whose sole interest seems to be fancy light fixtures, the Fae becomes a source of light in Geralt's own world. They go to a nonhuman friendly second-hand store to find Jaskier some more clothes and Geralt discovers the cryptid's love for oddly patterned shirts in bright colors. Jaskier chooses several to fill out his closet, as well as a sweater two-sizes too large in deep black (Geralt tries his best not to attach any meaning to this choice), a few pairs of pants, and a jean jacket that he declares, "Can be altered."

They watch movies together and make food together - Jaskier is always incredibly impressed by the way the automatic coffee maker works, and how easily Geralt can control the flames of the stove. Jaskier also follows the Witcher along on less dangerous hunts and helps bandage him up after worse ones, always there with a smile and a little kiss over the cleaned-up wound.

“It really is magic,” Jaskier always insists, lips pink and shining from licking them as he concentrates. "It makes you heal faster."

Geralt realizes one night - two weeks into Jaskier’s stay, as he leans against the doorframe and watches the strange creature’s even breathing - that he has gone and done the stupidest thing a Witcher can do: fall in love with a pretty, temperamental young Fae. Head over fuckin’ heels, actually.

So he makes a decision.

---

The next evening, after the dinner dishes have been cleaned and put away, Geralt herds Jaskier down the hall to the guest room. Those entrancing blue eyes blink up at him in obvious confusion. “Bedtime already?”

“No, not quite. I just- I made you… uh…”

“Do you have a surprise for me?” Jaskier asks, used to the Witcher's issues with verbalizing.

Geralt nods, relieved and thankful for the Fae’s steadfast understanding. “Do you want to cover your eyes or should I just open the door and show you?”

“I’ll close my eyes,” Jaskier smiles, covering his eyes with both hands. Geralt finds it adorable, as Jaskier always is, and allows himself a matching grin as he swings the door open. The ceiling light is off but Geralt has built a blanket fort at the center of the room and surrounded it with fairy lights of all colors and sizes. Inside the blanket fort is a mass of blankets and pillows; Jaskier has the odd habit of building nests - Geralt jokingly calls them cocoons - and sleeping in those on the floor instead of on the very comfortable mattress the Witcher has provided.

“Open them,” Geralt urges.

Jaskier pulls his hands away and Geralt watches as his pupils go huge and wide. Jaskier's face breaks out in the sunniest, most blindingly happy smile Geralt has ever seen. He turns and throws his arms around the Witcher, his wings fluttering behind him and his antennae twitching and flicking above his head. He tries desperately to speak but only manages a half-snuffled little “I’m-” before bursting into tears of joy.

Geralt just holds him, letting his arms fold carefully around Jaskier’s waist, just beneath his wings.

"I just wanted you to know that, if you wanted to stay, there would be room for you. Your room, if you want it."

"I do," Jaskier smiles, burying his face in the Witcher's neck. "I'd love to stay. I'd love nothing more than to spend my days going on adventures with you."

"Well then," Geralt gathers all of his courage and presses a soft kiss to the crown of Jaskier's head. He's met with happy spasms from the antennae so he does it again. And again. Moving from the top of the Fae's head to his cheeks and then his mouth - pretty and pink and pouting and so worth the trouble. "I suppose we can get started on our next adventure tomorrow."

[keijislove]

Hi babe! I was wondering if I could request a Tony Stark x daughter reader? With lots of angst and her being locked in her room because she’s being bullied for her darker skin

(I understand if you’re not comfortable with this)

Safe Place: Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader

I think this turned out a bit longer than I expected.

Sorry :(

I hope you like this, I don’t really have a lot of experience with this matter, so I hope I captured the emotions right!

I AM APOLOGISING IN ADVANCE, THE HURTFUL COMMENTS MENTIONED HERE ARE NOT ONES I WOULD EVER USE IN MY LIFETIME.

GIRL, YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL JUST THE WAY YOU ARE – YOU DON’T NEED DIMWITS LIKE RACISTS TO DEFINE BEAUTY. YOU WANT THE DEFINITION OF BEAUTY, GO LOOK IN THE MIRROR.

PUT A STOP TO RACISM.

WARNINGS: Slight EXTREMELY racial comments, mentions of death, toxic relationship, angst, Tony being a little... well, Tony.

Being Tony Stark’s daughter was nearly everyone’s dream. Well, everyone you’d come across at school, anyway. It seemed rational from their point of view – big house, big bedroom, expensive branded clothing, basically an overall exquisite lifestyle coupled with fame of being his daughter which was sure to earn popularity points anywhere and everywhere. A man rolling in that amount of money would make a great dad... right?

You thought differently. Which was one of the main reasons you did not tell anyone who your father really was and your teachers understood your predicament and played along to your story of being an ordinary girl with no scope for coolness whatsoever.

Your mother had met your father a long, long time ago – when Tony was still in university. Of course, he’d left her before he even knew she was pregnant, and they never saw each other again. You didn’t exactly love your life as his daughter. In fact, from what your mother had told you, he was (in your vision) a complete monster whom your mother had the sad misfortune to meet.

It was her untimely death that had forced you to go live with the man who was the reason you were born and the man who ruthlessly left your mother to fend for herself and a baby. You had tried for foster care, but the agents told you that your father was still alive and more than capable of taking care of you – being the famous Tony Stark and all.

So it would suffice to say that Tony was lowkey shocked when you turned up at his doorstep one day with a grudging expression and declarations of being his daughter. He actually didn’t believe you at first and asked you to piss off which confirmed your earlier assumptions about his character – asshole. After you’d snapped at him and showed him all the legal documentations stating that you two were blood-related as father-daughter after all, Tony was even more shocked than earlier.

Though he would rather die than admit it, he felt sad after seeing your fourteen-year-old self standing at his doorstep. He’d missed your birth, your first steps, your first words, he even missed helping you with homework in preschool – basically all precious moments you enjoy with a child. But you made it pretty clear that you didn’t want to be here – something that made Tony’s already overlarge pride swell like a bullfrog and stopped him from ever getting close to you. While you were busy thinking he didn’t want you, you overlooked a small detail – he took you in.

If anyone had the power to bribe an adoption agency to get rid of their kid, it was Anthony Stark, yet he never gave you away. The simple explanation (that he would never, in a million years, admit it to you) was that he didn’t want to lose you – around the only blood-related family he had left.

And so began your life as Y/N Stark. It functioned surprisingly well for your expectations. Pepper was really nice to you and those few occasions when the Avengers came over, you were able to talk to Natasha about ‘girl things’, her presence reminding you of the mother you had lost only too young. You sometimes even asked Bruce for help with homework, too proud yourself to go to Tony. Overall, you stayed out of his way while he stayed out of yours – an arrangement you were both satisfied with.

The worst part was that you never talked. Ever. You would wake up and walk to school, refusing Jarvis’ continued protests of letting you use the self-driving car, came home the same way where you did your homework and grabbed a snack before you ‘father’ came back upstairs from his little man cave in the basement and a small ‘good-evening’ passed between you two as you went your separate ways. This cycle repeated itself every day. Recently, your life at school hadn’t been going great.

You’d known that your skin tone was a notch darker than the others at your school – something you had gotten from your mother – and this was not something you really cared about. That’s when they started coming – the comments. What were originally small, snide retorts of ‘wash your face, ew!’ (A/N: I AM SO SORRY) had now escalated to them calling you obscene names you’d never heard before and asking you to leave ‘their’ school

Which was why, instead of being at school today, you were locked in your bedroom, sobbing into your pillow.

It had started out as a very unusual morning. After getting comments hurled at you left right and centre the previous day, you’d had enough. You’d woken up and declared to Jarvis that you were skipping school and he was to, under no circumstances, notify your father about this. After that you tried to eat some cereal, but the bubbling dread in your stomach made it taste like dry carpet, so you gave up and stomped into your room, locking the door before flinging yourself onto the bed and crying your heart out.

It was in times like these that you felt the need for something – a gaping hole in your chest. It seemed foolish to even admit it to yourself, but you really wanted someone like a parent. Someone who listened to your problems and comforted you accordingly, someone who actually cared about you. And since Tony Stark filled neither of these requirements, you gave up the foolish dream and sunk, once again, into your self-fashioned depths of misery.

-------

Tony casually sipped on his wine, putting one last screw into place to make the latest piece he was testing out. As he powered the device on, it vibrated for a moment before the words ‘model failed’ appeared on the screen Tony was examining.

He swore loudly and shoved it ungracefully aside before running his hands through his hair. There had been many an occasion where Tony seriously considered going to your room to just say something to you that wasn’t a monotonous ‘good evening’ or ‘the milk’s finished’ or something else like that. He wanted to talk to you. To you.

He wanted to get to know the real Y/N – what you were like when you weren’t too busy being bold and refusing to appear vulnerable. As if reading his thoughts, Jarvis’ voice filled the room suddenly.

“Sir, I do believe that Ms Stark is currently locked inside her bedroom. She refused to go to school just this morning.”

“What?” Tony exclaimed, “Why, did she tell you anything else?”

“Just this, Sir, along with a few obscene warnings of not informing you about this occurrence. If I recall correctly, Ms Stark told me she would rip out my sockets with her bare hands had I come to you.”

Ignoring the small smirk that was growing on his lips at the thought of you behaving exactly as he would, Tony wiped his tired hands on a nearby cloth before sprinting out the door and up the stairs to your bedroom.

He knocked on the door.

“Go away Pepper, not in the mood,” came your muffled voice. It was weak and raw – evidently, you had been crying.

Ignoring the poking feeling of dread bubbling in his stomach, Tony knocked again.

“Open up, kid, it’s me,” he shouted.

“Definitely not in the mood, thanks.”

Tony sighed. This was exactly what he had tried so hard to avoid –turning out like his own father. Not knowing how to deal with a daughter properly, he just let you go about your business as you wanted, hoping that it would yield better results than what his childhood had been like. Now, looking back at how much he’d neglected you, he suddenly realised that he had done the exact thing he was afraid of – hurt you.

“Y/N Y/M/N Stark, open the door. Please.”

Perhaps it was the please at the end or the way he acknowledged you as his living, breathing daughter for the first time that made you stagger limply over to the door and push it open.

Your eyes were puffy, red and swollen from bawling nonstop and your brows were knitted into a disapproving frown. It broke Tony’s heart to see you like this.

“Listening,” you sniffed, crossing your arms.

“Okay, why don’t you sit down,” Tony frowned slightly.

You gave another hearty sniff and led him to your bed where you flopped down and watched as he took a seat beside you.

You both sat in a very painful, deafening silence for the next few minutes.

“You didn’t go to school today,” Tony casually remarked as you played with your pillow, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I did,” you said simply.

“Wanna tell me what’s going on?” Tony offered.

“I really don’t,” you admitted as he burst out laughing and you gave a grudging giggle despite yourself.

“Seriously, kid,” Tony said in an undertone, “You’ve gotta open up a bit more. I mean, it’s been like what, two years since you moved here and you never bother telling me what’s going on. And look where that got you – come on, tell me what’s going on. Is it school?”

“Partially,” you quietly said to which he cocked an eyebrow.

“Completely,” you amended, sighing, “Kids, you know, they’re just being – well, mean.”

“Okay,” Tony nodded slightly, “You want to talk about it?”

“They... they make fun of me,” you admitted, “About – about my skin colour and stuff. And I know I’m being stupid, getting upset over this –”

“It’s not stupid,” Tony broke in, “It’s not stupid at all. Nothing gives anyone a right to talk to you that way.”

“Try telling that to them!” you burst out, final letting go of the pent-up emotions you’d been holding for days, “What did I ever do to them – it’s not my fault I look like this, maybe if I could choose what to look like, I’d choose something they want! Just about everyone seems to have a problem – what the hell do they expect me to do? It’s unjust, unfair, unsettling and unkind, but of course they don’t care, do they?!”

Tony didn’t even flinch throughout your entire outburst until you broke down and tears began rapidly pouring out of your eyes once more.

“Hey, hey, stop, listen to me,” Tony sternly said, seizing your shoulders and turning you to face him.

“You’re a Stark,” he said, gazing you dead in the eyes, “You are beautiful, you’re smart and you’re kind. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

This was too much for you to handle and you started sobbing again – sobs of partial happiness and partial guilt that didn’t look like they would stop anytime soon.

“Come here, kid,” was all Tony could say as he pulled you into a hug, allowing you to sob into his shirt while he stroked your hair, trying to calm you down.

“I’m sorry if I’ve ever been mean to you,” you whispered finally.

“It’s okay, kid,” Tony murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I’m sorry I haven’t been a great father all this time.”

You two sat in a now comfortable silence, occasionally clearing your throats or sniffling a bit before Tony finally spoke.

“If anyone says that to you again, I will have them cut up and fed to the fish in my house in Malibu.”

“Thanks, dad.”

[reidjumpers]

edge of desire

Spencer Reid x Reader

Warning/Includes: None, I believe! Angst if you squint hard enough

Summary: Spencer receive a phone call from you in the middle of the night, and now a lot of emotions come to the surface.

Note: i wrote this because i can't stop listening to edge of desire. also taking a short break from writing dad!spencer and picturing his dating days with mom!reader

‘I’m scared you’ll forget about me.’

Happiness could be found everywhere if one squint hard enough, but Spencer would argue that happiness tends to be found laced in the smallest thing. He had found solace and happiness in between spines of his books, in exciting gaps between his cards when he played poker, and in the checkered black and white of a chessboard.

But even with the vast knowledge his mind stored for a lifetime, he would never expect to find happiness in the simplicity of a greeting on a phone. Spencer rolled on his bed as he pressed his phone to his ear. His hand rubbed his drowsiness away, blinking as his gaze slowly focusing on the clock beside his bed. 3:43 AM.

“Do you know what time it is in DC?” Spencer reprimanded half-heartedly. His voice laced thick with sleep, but there was no hostility or any real heat behind his voice.

“Sorry to call you so late,” you chuckled at his scolding, but Spencer could spot the guilt hidden in between the lines just fine. He knew you like he knew the back of his hand after all. Something that he prided on, a treasured possession of his wonderful knowledge. “You can go back to sleep.”

“No,” Spencer answered immediately. “Talk to me. I miss your voice.”

I miss you was the word that failed to leave his tongue, but he knew you’d known what he implied from his words just fine. Judging from the way he could hear you heaved a sigh from the other line, and a brief pause with you shuffling in the background – he liked to imagine you’re padding across a wooden floor with your favorite fuzzy socks – he knew you understood what he wanted to say.

“I saw a really cute, fat cat earlier today!” your voice laced with excitement. It made his heart clenched, and listening to you rambling about the owner letting you pet the cat and giving them treats made breathing felt like an excessive exercise.

Spencer stared into the ceiling, absorbing every word by words that left from your mouth. If he concentrated just hard enough, he could almost feel your presence next to him, vibrating with excitement. If he tried hard enough, he could form an image of you smiling and laughing perfectly.

“I wish you’re here with me, Spence,” you whispered the last addition, like a leftover from your past excitement and laughter. He almost missed the way you said it.

Spencer paused, his mouth open and closed like a gaping fish out of a pond. Funny how a simple sentence could erase all of his knowledge on English words and made it like an indecipherable language his mind failed to comprehend. He resigned into a long sigh instead, bracing himself to embrace all the waves of crashing emotions that he poured all of his energy over to keep it on bay.

“I–” Spencer shut his mouth again. And just like that, all of the emotions he simply didn’t want to acknowledge earlier came into the surface. Pushing all of his barriers that he built for days, breaking and seeping through the cracks. “I’m jealous.”

That seemingly caught you off guard. “Jealous?” you asked incredulously. He could hear you shuffled in the background again, then he could hear a soft creak of a door being pushed open. There was a long pause from your part and a soft thud of someone landing in a cushion. Probably you’re in bed now. “Jealous of?”

“People who got to see you everyday.”

People who got to be by your side when I couldn’t.

“Baby…” you whispered. He could almost picture the way the edge of your eyes would soften and your lips twitched into a soft smile perfectly.

Spencer wanted to scowl, wanted to reprimand you for having the audacity to call him that. To call him with the name he had associated with comfort and love coming from you, oozing from every inch of your skin. Spencer wanted to be angry even, at you, for worsening the aching in his chest and the longing that pained him more and more as the time ticked by.

“I’m scared you’ll forget about me.”

He knew he was being ridiculous. He felt ridiculous. He was being irrational with his fears and the ache in his chest. You had only been gone for exactly 4 days, 6 hours, and 22 minutes, but it already felt like forever since the last time he saw your face. The fact that you’re a whole continent away from him with the damned time zone that didn’t do anyone any favors only worsen and heighten everything into ten.

“I doubt I can forget someone as remarkable as you are,” you laughed, and he could picture the way your nose would crinkle adorably just fine. “I’m here, baby.”

“But not here here,” he copied the way you’d talked when you wanted to emphasize on something. Spencer smiled when he could hear you snorted a laugh. “I am always my happiest self when I am with you wherever you are. And right now, I am not very happy.”

“Do you want to make me cry?” you asked. Your voice wavered a little bit, and Spencer knew your eyes would gloss with tears that threatened to spill already. “Is that what you want? You want me to bawl my eyes out, Spencer Reid?”

“No,” Spencer huffed a laugh. Ever so dramatic that you are. “Don’t cry, sweetheart.”

“It feels like you just want to make me cry.”

“I am not a meanie who enjoys making people cry.”

“Right now you’re very mean and you’re about to make me cry.”

“Don’t cry,” Spencer cooed, but it was more of a plea rather than anything else. “If you cry, I’ll cry. And then you’ll be a meanie who profited from other people’s tears.”

“Aren’t we quite a pair? We both are meanies who make people cry.”

“An amazing pair,” Spencer affirmed.

You laughed, and he joined you, then it went away just as soon as it came. Silence settled between you two, and Spencer could hear a hitch of breathing from your part. And then a quiet sniffle. Spencer knew there would be tears streaming down your face right now, even though you tried your best to battle it with a wide smile. An unsettling ache settled on his bones upon the bearing knowledge that he couldn’t do anything to wipe the tears away.

Spencer let out a shaky sigh, feeling the tears slowly rolling down his cheeks too. He didn’t bother to wipe it away, too overwhelmed with the wave of emotions that washed through him. He felt every emotion at once, and he couldn’t point which one is which.

“My home is wherever you are,” you break the silence, nearly startled him from the suddenness of your voice reverberated through his phone. “I miss home. I miss you, baby.”

“Come back home,” Spencer begged. He was unashamed about it. “Come back to me.”

“Soon,” you promised, firm and so sure about it. “Soon enough that I’ll be back in your arms before you even know it.”

“Soon,” he breathed.

Spencer could hold into a sweet promise for a little while, salvaging his aching bones and painful heart from not having you by his side. Spencer closed his eyes and slowly drifted back into slumber with the blanket of your sweet promise to be back home soon. A sweet promise that promised a tomorrow of a sweet reunion, something that he looked forward to.

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.19

The True Heir

03/09/2021

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 5,781

Warnings: angst, depression, pregnancy, marital troubles, pining

A/N: There is very little editing. Forgive me. I’m sleepy. I’ve been up writing all night. I’ve also been hurting, but it’s all good! I’m so happy to get this chapter out. *insert evil laugh* If you happen to reblog, thank you so much for helping me spread my work! it truly means so much, more than you know. xoxo

Sunday

Today you do nothing.

You’d opened up your laptop last night and attempted to scribble a few lines for your next book, but all you could think about was Thor, Jane, the babies to come, and where exactly you fit amongst all of it.

After typing Thor’s name along with a few other random words for the tenth time, you gave up and shut the laptop. You’d crawled into bed, bundled up under your fluffy comforter, and bid goodbye to the world as you caved in to unconsciousness.

The fact that morning is here, you find that your hope for today to be better than  yesterday was silly. How can anything ever be good again?

You place your hands on your lower tummy, caressing what feels like a very slight swell. It’s just barely harder than the rest of your stomach. Firm. Despite the happiness that your baby brings you, you stare across the room at your computer and can’t find it in you to get up and work.

Instead you roll over onto your other side and pull Thor’s--that is to say, the one he’d used while he was here--pillow over to cling to.

Thor’s texts are also still fresh in your mind.

Sleep didn’t dull their effect on you or the confusion they raised.

Did they mean that he wouldn’t get an annulment? That’s sorta what you were getting from them. His declarations that he couldn’t live without you and that he would die for you and that he missed you so much at his side sounded like he was also telling himself how he felt. As if he were, not so much convincing, but reaffirming what he already knew.

You reach over and switch your phone on, clicking through to your messages to find that Thor must have stolen his phone back from Loki at some point.

Thor: Good morning, my cherub. I hope you slept well.

Thor: I could hardly sleep with you absent beside me.

Thor: Our bed is too big without you in it.

Thor: Have you seen the doctor yet? You’ll text me as soon as you get a diagnosis, won’t you? I’ll be waiting.

Thor: Loki insists that I give you some distance to rest but being apart from you is torture.

Thor: Would you be very angry with me if I came to see you?

Thor: I have some things I must deal with here before I can go though. Loki is right. I should allow you rest and fix things here before I come to you.

Thor: Are you still sleeping, cherub? I’m sorry if my messages are disturbing you. I haven’t gone this long without talking to you since...I wish I’d met you years ago. When things weren’t so complicated.

Thor: Would you have let me court you even though I am the God of Thunder? Future King of Asgard? Would you have married me when I came back with my people to live here on Earth?

Thor: I think if I had to choose all over again, you’re still the only woman equal to the task of being my Queen.

Thor: And the love that has grown between us is...I will never take it for granted…

As you read that last message, you assume he wants to say he won’t take it for granted again. He’s already let it slip through his fingers, although he doesn’t know it yet.

Thor: Perhaps this can be that break you were talking of. For our baby? Maybe we do need a little bit of relaxation to let our bodies recover?

Thor: And yet, I can’t wait to start a family with you, cherub.

You’re bawling all over again, your eyes flooding with tears as you bury your face into his pillow and sob loudly.

He’d said that he missed your body next to his. You can relate. You want to feel the heavy fall of his chest, the deep breaths that fill his lungs and escape through his lips in a quiet little snore that always makes you cuddle into his side.

Normally, he’d respond by turning to face you and holding you right up against his chest.

The comfort that simple thing would give you right now when your heart is aching so painfully is what you so desperately need. But...you’re so angry too. You don’t want him near you.

The images that flood your mind are torture. Mixtures of pleasant, happy moments now marred by the betrayal and anger that has taken hold of your heart.

You bury your face into the pillow and scream until your throat really does go hoarse. Frustration at the force of change you’ve had to make in the past twenty-four hours.

You’re startled back to the present when your phone rings. You make a small attempt  to clear your throat then answer and the absolute gravel voice you use settles any wondering as to whether your illness is real.

“Hello?” you whisper, clearing your throat to no avail.

“Oh, cherub, you sound terrible.”

Your heart panics. How are you supposed to talk to him?

You don’t want to talk to him.

“I can’t really talk,” you say weakly hoping he’ll take the hint.

“Did the doctor see you already?” Thor asks, his worry evident in the quiet tone of his voice.

“Yes, he gave me some medicine and told me to try not to talk,” you lie, surprisingly easy right now since you don’t want to talk.

For your emotional sanity, you need to hang up soon.

“I’m so sorry, love. I wish I could take this illness from you. Where’s David? I’d like to talk to him.”

You panic again, floundering as you cough and clear your throat to buy some time.

“He’s not here. He went to the store to get some groceries,” you hope he buys it.

“I’ll call him a little later then. If you need anything, let me know. I’ll get it for you.”

“Thanks, Thor,” you mumble, suddenly not wanting to hang up.

How can one person give you so much ease and worry all at once? How can he be your source of agony and comfort at the same time? It’s not fair.

“I have so much to tell you, but...now is not the right time. You need to get better first.”

Nevermind! Fuck this guy. Your heart sinks.

“I have to go,” you tell him, hoping he’ll just hang up and leave you be now.

“Very well. I love you, cherub.”

How do you answer him without giving anything away just yet?

“Me too,” you choose. And it’s true.

Even if he’s torn your heart into pieces, he’s still the father of your baby and you still love him.

Whatever madness overcame him when he’d suggested to Loki getting an annulment was the best course of action seems to have passed. Loki must be right about him.

“Bye, Thor,” you whimper.

“Bye, Y/N,” he says your name, making your heart quake a bit.

You hang up and quickly dial up David.

He answers after two rings.

“Hello? How is my favorite girl in the whole wide world?”

He sounds amused by something, or just happy. It’s such a difference to how you feel at the moment that it breaks you and you sob again, renewing your tears.

“Y/N? What’s the matter?” David demands, clearly now beginning to fret over the way you sound.

You tell him everything. Somehow you manage to get it all out minus one important detail and when you’re done recounting the most horrible night of your life, David sighs heavily and you can almost picture him settling into a deep armchair with massive worry weighing on his shoulders.

“Well, the good thing is, if he goes through with an annulment, you’re to be given a monthly allowance for the rest of your life. It was a condition in your contract, should Thor change his mind about marrying you. But he didn’t so it was moot, until now. You will be a very rich woman. More so than the small fortune you originally inherited.

“I know that money is hardly a consolation for the man that you love-” David sighs again. “Perhaps he said it in madness? He must have been very upset. Caught by surprise?” David offers.

“Even if he doesn’t mean it or doesn’t go through with it, I know that for you the point is the thought was there.

“However, I do think we must make allowances for Thor. I’m sorry to say. He is a king and he’s responsible for his entire people. A baby would give them security. Stability. A legitimate heir would tie them to Earth forever.

“We musn’t make light of his choices. This isn’t a common situation to find one’s self in. For either of you.”

“David, I’m pregnant.” You finally explain, knowing that it will maybe just show him a little bit more of what you’re facing. “I went to tell Thor and that’s when I overheard them.”

For a moment he’s speechless. When he speaks again, his voice is heightened.

“Congratulations! I-I knew it would happen eventually. The timing is a little-”

“I haven’t told him yet, clearly.”

Silence again. “Why?”

“I don’t know. I was so happy when I went to tell him and then I heard their conversation and I-I just can’t find the strength to do it right now. Not until I know whether he wants the annulment.”

David breathes in deeply and then exhales slowly into the phone. His breath is light and soft.

“You’re afraid that he will only stay with you because of the child,” a statement.

David knows you better than anyone else in your life. It’s not surprising that he’d make the leap so quickly.

“He’s willing to leave me and marry Jane because of her baby. It’s possible that he’ll stay by my side only because of our baby and I’d rather he do what’s best for our people than to stay with me because of a sense of obligation.”

“It could be that Jane will not want him. She might keep her child away from the Asgardian royal court. Didn’t she refuse to marry him because she didn’t want to be Queen?” David’s voice is pensive. “This might all feel much larger than it is. I suggest you take some time to really think through your actions before making any decisions.”

“I’m not going to never tell him, David. He’s the father of my child. He has to know that he has two and not just the one. I don’t think I could do that to him. I could never keep him from his children.

“Either of them.”

“You are magnanimous, Y/N. More than even I thought you were capable of.”

“Bullshit. I ran away and am refusing to see him until I get my week of space,” you nod firmly. “But David-?”

“Tell me,” he urges you, recognizing your tone of anguish.

“I-I know that I accepted this marriage hesitantly. It wasn’t like I asked for it and you know how I felt before Thor asked me to marry him. You know how s-scared I was about marrying someone who was in love with someone else, and now...now he’s-”

“He’s married to you, Y/N. Not Ms. Foster. And from what I have been able to see, he does love you. Not Jane. This is a temporary setback. If you’re angry at him, be angry at him. Don’t pretend you aren’t. If you’re hurt, show it. Wear your heart on your sleeve.

“Loving someone is one of life’s greatest blessings. Sometimes that love doesn’t last, sometimes it takes a beating. But you must choose whether your love is worth fighting for.

“You’ve also got obligations that you cannot escape from. Duties to your people as their Queen.”

“Assuming Thor doesn’t leave me and take my crown,” you scoff.

“I’m with your brother-in-law. I don’t think it will come to that. I think Thor was a little shocked and thrown by Ms. Foster’s news. Now that he has had some time to think, I believe he’ll do right by you and when you tell him, your child.”

“I won’t tell him until he makes up his mind,” you insist.

“That is your prerogative. Do what you need to. What can I do to help? What do you need from me?”

“Just be prepared for any eventuality. I’m not sure what’s going to happen at the end of this week. Oh, and if Thor calls you--just make something up and tell me what you say. He thinks you drove me from the airport and have been staying with me.”

“Using me as your alibi so that your husband won’t come looking for you,” David clicks his tongue. “How much detail shall I give him?”

“You’ve got a job too, just tell him you’re coming and going. Tony had his staff install some security on the house after the honeymoon. I’m safe here. He’ll believe that I’m safe if that’s all you say.

“Anyway, I need to go. I have two more calls to make before I can relax and enjoy my break from the throne.”

“If you need anything, you know how to reach me. Anything, Y/N. I mean it.”

“Thanks, David. I can always count on you,” you smile.

Just a tiny one. A very subtle curve at the corners of your lips.

“Well, you do pay me,” he jokes, which actually pulls a small laugh from you.

“Right. Bye, David.”

“Goodbye, Your Majesty.”

You take only a minute to think about your conversation with David before you make the most important calls of your week in solitude.

The first one is simple. Just a reminder of doctor-patient confidentiality. He understands what you’re saying even if he doesn’t practice by that mentality.

Dr. Wilson’s phone call is more difficult. She wants an explanation. She wants to know why she’s not allowed to tell your husband, the King of New Asgard, that he’s finally got what you and he have been wanting.

An heir!

It’s painful to talk about but you tell her what’s happened. You tell her that Thor doesn’t know that you know about Jane’s baby.

She’s very quiet as you talk. She assumes things and you can hear her anger when she starts to ask for what she can tell Thor.

“He didn’t cheat on me, Dr. Wilson,” you explain, hoping that this will ease her anger.

You’re angry at Thor because of the annulment, not because he and Jane have created a life from their love. You’re hurt because he’s willing or was willing--you’re not sure yet--to leave you to be with Jane, even if not for love but for the baby growing within her.

You’re hurt because the man you love was choosing his duty over his feelings for you.

Even though you know that he’s right to do it. Even though you know that you should understand because he’s King and you also took an oath to put the people of New Asgard first.

It’s your duty to put their well-being before your own. That doesn’t mean you have to like it.

In Thor’s mind, his only duty is to his child. Jane’s child. He doesn’t know you’re carrying one of your own yet. Even though that would probably make sure that he stays with you because of the baby, you don’t want that to be the reason he stays.

Proud fool.

“Thor slept with Jane the same night he proposed to me. This was before we loved each other, when leaving Jane was the hardest thing he’d had to do. I don’t hold that against him.”

You don’t tell her about the annulment. She doesn’t need to know how messy this all is.

“He’ll probably call for you and Dr. Alric soon. Loki suggested they get Jane checked so act surprised? But please don’t tell him I’m pregnant. Not yet. He’s coming to see me at the end of the week and I’ll tell him myself then. Please?” And it really is a genuine plea.

“I’ll do whatever you need, Your Majesty. I would like to come and check on you. You don’t sound well.”

She’s very sweet and her concern is touching.

“Thor will probably send you to me eventually. He’s worried but he’s clearly got other things on his mind.”

“I’ll make arrangements to head over there tomorrow. Oh, can you hold for one minute Your Majesty? I’m so sorry.”

“Of course.”

There’s silence on the phone for a few minutes before she comes back.

“It was His Majesty. He’s told me about Jane but she’s not available for an examination until later in the week. So, he’s asked me to come to you first. I’ll be there tonight.”

For some reason, the idea of having her with you eases some of the stress you’ve been carrying with you since yesterday.

“I’ll call and have a car sent for you.”

“Actually, His Majesty has promised to bring me straight to you via bifrost.”

“Wait, what?” You sit up in bed, clutching your blanket to your chest as your nerves suddenly fray and panic begins to build up within you.

“Should I come by plane?” She asks, worried by the sound of your voice.

You can’t see Thor. No. You can’t.

“No. I’ll just be going out later tonight to pick up a few things that I need here at the house. Toilet paper, napkins, laundry soap. I just didn’t want you to get here when I was out, but I’ll text you the passcode to get in.”

You’ll just have to make sure that you’re not at home when they come. That’s what you’ll do. This is a perfect excuse to be out since you need to get the stuff you listed anyway.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t just like me to come by plane?”

“No, really. The sooner you get here, the better. The car ride is so long from the airport. I’ll see you tonight, Dr. Wilson.”

“Bye, Your Majesty.”

Even though you know that you have hours upon hours until Thor brings Dr. Wilson here, you force yourself out of bed and abandon your plans to wallow in your feelings so that you can shower, get dressed, and leave the house.

If Thor’s coming, you’re going to be as far away from your house as you can be. You’re not ready to see him again just yet. You only have small errands to run but you’re gonna stay out all damn day if it’s the last thing you do.

~~~~~~~~~~

Tuesday

Thor is at a loss. Completely and utterly lost without you.

If he was ever in doubt as to how he really felt about you--which he never has been because he knows himself well enough to know better--he knows now that you are the light of his new life here on Earth.

His reign would mean significantly less without you at his side.

Even though the time you’ve spent together has been a short few months, they have been the best months of his life.

If he’d had one of those other women he’d interviewed become his Queen, this life he’s chosen to lead would have felt empty and tedious. Instead of watching his Queen spend her time with his people leading the way in progress.

You’re so eager to be part of the Asgardian populace. They’ve embraced you so fully.

With a sigh, Thor leans forward and buries his face into his hands as he mentally trashes himself for the absolute fool that he’s been about this entire situation.

The fact that he’d even entertained the thought of leaving you.

He wants to cry and tear his hair out in frustration.

Should he tell you that the thought was weighed along with many others at Jane’s news?

And Jane.

Thor groans.

She’s been avoiding him since she told him. He can’t exactly blame her for it. He hadn’t exactly taken the news well.

He had no reason to expect her to be receptive to him after he’d basically accused her of being confused about it. She knew her own body. If she said she was pregnant, what reason would he have to doubt her?

He’s messed everything up so much and he’s terrified to tell you about Jane.

What if you have the same idea he did? What if you decide to leave him in some foolish attempt to have him marry her and legitimize his future child?

It’s something you would do. Sacrifice yourself so that he could do the right thing.

The thought of living this life of rule without you at his side is unbearable.

With another frustrated groan, he gets up and moves to pace the length of the room, ignoring the large pile of paperwork on his desk as his mind moves in circles.

It always comes back to you.

And then you’d been out when he’d gone to drop off Dr. Wilson. He hadn’t expected you to be gone. He’d wanted to see you. To hold you. Touch you. Hear your voice after so much turmoil.

You are his only solace.

Going so close to you and not seeing you has left him with a terrible pain in his chest.

His phone rings.

Thor dives for his phone and fumbles with it as he grabs it off the bed. He almost loses it over the opposite edge.

He literally throws himself towards it and lands with a grunt onto the bed as he catches it.

He presses the button on the screen without looking to see who it is because he only wants it to be you.

“Cherub?” he gasps, his voice an octave higher than normal with the little bit of exertion he just underwent.

“Oh, no. Sorry, Your Majesty, it’s Dr. Wilson. I was just calling to give you your daily report on Her Majesty’s health.”

“Oh, yes, of course. I’m sorry. I just haven’t heard from-” He clears his throat, sits up, and slides to the edge of the bed. “No matter. How is my Queen, doctor?”

“She was asleep. But just woke up. She’s very tired. Her throat is better, but she’s had a fever every morning since Sunday.”

Thor sits up straighter, hand clenched into a fist around the edge of the bed as his heart starts to thrum loudly.

“Is she seriously ill?”

“No, of course not, Your Majesty. But she really does need rest. She has been under severe stress and I’m sorry to say that your constant messages are not letting her rest.”

Thor’s heart drops and buries itself into a hole at the bottom of his stomach. He feels numb suddenly, fearful of what he might be doing to you. The guilt of what he knows he must tell you soon also weighs down on him.

“Are you saying that I should leave her be until she is recovered?” Thor checks, just in case he’s not understanding correctly.

“I’m saying that if you want her to get well quickly, you must give her what she asked you for. She needs rest.”

Thor hates that he can’t be there to check on you. He wants to feel you close. He wants to see you. What if you’re deathly ill and you’re telling Dr. Wilson to lie for you?

You abhor lies and cherish honesty , but he can see you lying in order to spare him pain. Just as he is lying to spare you the worry of all this uncertainty with Jane.

Although he knows that he can never lose you now and even with a child coming with Jane, you are his wife and he can’t leave you. He was stupid to think he could even try. The thought was a sin and he’ll never forgive himself for thinking it.

Loki was so angry with him.

Rightfully so.

The good thing is that you’ll never know how bleak things looked. At least he has found his sanity again.

“Will you keep me informed? I’ll stop contacting her if you will promise to tell me how she fares. If she gets worse, I want to know.” Thor insists, his voice passionate and begging.

“You have my word, Your Majesty. Have you heard anything from Ms. Foster? Do we know exactly when we’ll be running her tests?”

“She’s very busy. As of now, it’s looking more and more likely that we won’t be able to find the time until the week’s end. After we confirm her pregnancy, I’ll tell Y/N. I’m sorry that I’ve asked you to collude in this business.”

There’s a long pause and for a moment Thor thinks that maybe the phone has disconnected but then Dr. Wilson sighs, “I cannot wait for this week to be over. Will you come back for me then? When she’s ready?”

“Yes. I’ll pick you up in the same spot that I left you. My wife wasn’t too upset about her lawn, was she? Only, Stark seems to get irritated with me every time I land on his.”

“No,” Dr. Wilson chuckles once. “She was not upset. Again, there’s little more than her throat, head, and fever on her mind. I’ve gotta go. She’s gone out into the garden for some fresh air but I need to get her back into bed.”

“Please take good care of her, doctor. She’s...well, she’s my wife,” Thor finishes heavily.

The phone goes dead and Thor sits there staring at his phone until he can find the strength to get to his feet and go off in search of Jane. They really need to talk.

~~~~~~~~~~

Friday

Thor is upset.

He’s beyond frustrated by now.

He’s irritated.

It’s a week tomorrow since he’s seen you and he can’t stand the distance anymore.

Dr. Wilson snuck him a photo but you’d been sitting on your sofa, looking weak and withdrawn.

He’s not sure what exactly is making you sick, but he knows that he can’t go another day without seeing you.

He needs to get Dr. Wilson back here and he needs to get confirmation so that he can have something to tell you once he sees you.

He won’t lose you over this.

It was one last time. One final goodbye with Jane and he’d thought she was on her birth control but apparently she hadn’t been so he hadn’t bothered to protect himself from the possibility of getting her pregnant.

Why hadn’t she said anything?! Why hadn’t she told him that she wasn’t on her pill?

He knows it’s wrong to blame her. It took both of them to make this baby, but being away from you for so long is wearing thin and he’s losing all semblance of patience.

It takes some very careful maneuvering. Heimdall is sent first, then Hilde, then Loki.

None of them know why they’re going in to corner Jane in the tower except for Loki. Well, Heimdall knows, but there’s no hiding much from Heimdall. He pretends not to know and that’s good enough for Thor.

Loki is just stepping out of the tower when he turns to look at Thor with a grave almost exhausted expression.

“She’s up there,” he assures Thor, frowning as he shuts the heavy door. “When will this end, Thor? Are you going to keep the Queen away forever?”

Thor says nothing, he’s too upset to speak. He pulls the door open roughly and stomps his way up the steps taking them two at a time until he’s standing on the top floor landing.

He can see Jane biting her lip, pacing the length of the room until she turns and finally sees him.

“Thor…” she gasps, not expecting to see him.

“We have to talk, Jane.”

She looks away, turning her back on him then moves towards her laptop which she carefully closes. She puts her hand up to her throat and turns to face him.

“I will have Dr. Wilson brought in and Dr. Alric to give you the same tests they have been giving Y/N. They will be confirming your pregnancy and once we have that, then we can all sit down and figure out-”

“I’m not pregnant,” Jane gasps, her voice filling the room despite the quiet breath that escapes her pink lips.

Thor’s stomach twists. It’s agony.

On the one hand, the words she’s just spoken are...they’re a celebration. They’re simplicity. They’re peace and a return back to normal where in his life there is only you.

On the other hand, he’s just lost a baby he never had. An heir that he’d been expecting and now can never get back.

He’d made plans for this child. He’s pictured his life with them, the happiness and joy that their birth would bring to the people of New Asgard. The assurance that they would always belong to Earth.

He’d picked names for boys and girls. He’d begun to make a list of nursery items they would need even as he lamented that the baby was not yours but Jane’s.

This baby would have, and had already begun to change his life.

And now this?!

“What?” he very nearly spits.

Jane is so flustered she’s wringing her hands hard, welting them red.

“I’m...I didn’t expect to come here and see you with her and see how fast you just-” she waves her hand as if shooing away some animal. “-moved on. It’s like you were never with me.

“You were both so happy and talking about the future and I just lost it for a little bit,” she shrugs. “I have no excuses, Thor. I’m sorry if what I said hurt you. It was selfish of me and I just loved you for so long. You were mine, you know? And now you’re married, planning to have kids, and your wife is so nice and considerate and even though she has every reason to hate me, she was polite and so damn perfect…

“I’m not afraid to say that it made me hate her. I’m ashamed of it, but not enough to take it back.”

The silence is thick. The air suddenly grows charged and Thor’s eyes shine a bright sparkling blue.

His hands crackle and his eye spits as if full of blue fire.

The sky overhead thunders and the world shakes with the boom. The lightning strikes sharp and fast, shaking the tower so that for a moment, Thor can see how Jane thinks it might topple.

His anger gives way to betrayal and his lightning fizzles out as he takes a step towards her, his brow furrowed, eye full of pain as he stares at her, searching for the joke that this must be.

There is no way that this is really happening.

“You lied to me?” Thor accuses.

Jane blanches, her lips going pale as she takes a step towards him.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lie, I just-I didn’t want to see you with her anymore and I wasn’t thinking straight so I just said it before I could stop myself. I know that it was wrong and I didn’t think it would go on for so long. I wanted to tell you almost as soon as I said it that it wasn’t true, but then you just took off and then the Queen left and I wasn’t sure if you told her and maybe that’s why she wasn’t here.”

Thor shakes his head, turning away from her as he paces towards the stairs but then turns back, his anger returning but full of pain now.

“I defended you. When Loki insisted I have you tested I asked him if he doubted you and I assured him that you would not lie about something this important. What reason would you have to lie?” he demands, almost of himself instead of Jane.

“Thor,” Jane begins.

“How long were you going to let me think you were carrying my child? How long were you planning to con me?” he accuses and his words seem to hurt Jane.

Thor can’t find it in him to care too much.

“I wasn’t-that’s not what I meant to do, Thor. Please, you have to believe me. I just didn’t know how much seeing you with her would-”

“You have no right to be upset!” he booms, his voice loud and it startles Jane quiet.

She’s never heard him angry like this. She’s never heard his voice raised.

“I gave you every opportunity to be with me, to marry me, to build a life here with me and be my Queen. You didn’t want it! You flat-out refused to be tied down by me and this Kingdom but now that you see me and my wife happy, you change your mind?

“You have the audacity to raise obstacles between us because you have regrets?”

“Thor,” she tries again, but Thor won’t let her speak.

“Get out,” he says sternly, turning to move towards the stairs.

“What?!”

“I said, get out. You are no longer welcome in my home. Pray no one ever finds out of your treachery. And should you have the urge to return for any reason, don’t.”

Thor storms down the steps, so angry that each step shakes the tower.

He’s breathing heavily as he slams the door shut behind him.

The storm air helps to calm him a bit. It clears his mind at least and the past week zooms by him like an unpleasant movie.

All of that worry and the plotting and planning. The agony that he felt wondering if you’d leave him when you found out about his child with Jane was the most unbearable.

Your face flashes before his eyes and he knows that there’s only one place he can be right now.

He throws his hand out and a metallic whistling rushes closer before his fist closes around his hammer.

He swings it firmly and throws it up into the air as he makes for your home.

Now that he has nothing to keep him here, he’s eager to get back to you. He’ll tell you everything and hope that you can forgive him for lying to you about Jane.

Even though it was a lie by omission, it was still a lie.

“I’m coming, my cherub,” he whispers, so eager to have you in his arms again.

Nothing will ever tear him from you again. He is certain. Nothing. Not a false heir, or a former love, no doubts exist within him anymore. You are the one.

The only one.

[dashnite]

Forgot to say I was having a smoke outside of the building where I work, and a trans woman (apparently homeless) walked up to me to ask for a cigarette. I gave one to her and she was like “oh, thank you so much! I’m going to save it for later!”

So I asked her name and she gave me a obviously male name. I smiled and asked “no, what’s your real name?” She blushed and said it’s Gabriela. I introduced myself as Miguel and offered her another cig so she could smoke now and still have the other one for later. I s2g she almost cried, and said I was so cute and beautiful. I told her she was beautiful as well, and since I was still on lunch break, so I offered to pay for a espetinho (it’s like a shish kebab with only meat), and she almost cried again, saying she had eaten only yesterday morning and was trying to beg for money but people would take one look at her and go away.

We went to the espetinhos stand and I got one for me and one for her. She was curious about why why I was being so nice to her, with her being a black homeless trans girl, and I said “if we trans people don’t look after each other, no one else will”.

Then I guess it clicked on her head that I was trans too (i pass pretty well, except maybe for height and voice). She started crying and asked for permission to give me a hug, which of course I allowed. We hugged for almost 5 minutes while she sobbed (I am 5’6 and she was closer to 6 feet+, so she rested her chin on the top of my head and bawled her eyes out).

I said I had to go back to work and she told me that I was beautiful on the outside and on the inside too. I was very moved. She said she’s always by that area and if I ever wanted to talk, she’d listen.

I know it’s a bittersweet story but the moment of connection, when she realized we were the same, was just beautiful. I remember this happenstance and can’t help but smile.

[inkmemes]

this  country  (  2017  -  2020  )  sentence  starters ↪  taken  from  the  bbc  mockumentary.  trigger  warning  for  mentions  of  religion,  death,  sex.  alter  as  you  see  fit  ♡

“i like the underdog.”

“don't be a fucking dick.”

“everyone comes together on days like today and just forgets their utter hatred of each other.”

“everyone who's anyone's going to be there and there are people from my past that would love to see me slain.”

“there's a tea rooms there and under the counter they've got a panic button and if i take one step inside, they can press that. the police will be there in three minutes.”

"he whatsapped me the other day asking us to go laser quest with him and i ... well, i clicked on it by accident, didn't i? so he knows i've seen it."

"i mean, i get it, but it's not making me feel nothing."

“it's baffling. i'm baffled by the entire situation, if i'm honest.”

“what the actual fuck? what the actual fuck? you have fucking lost your head, mate. you have lost your fucking head.”

“when i get hold of you, i swear to god i will fucking deck you.”

"someone's just been throwing plums at my house. i'm going to kill them. i can't believe it. i can't believe it. all over this. plumming on here, plumming on that. plum on the sofa, look! there's nothing left that hasn't been plummed."

“i've had a target on my back since the day i was born.”

“thank you very much, enjoy your free potatoes.”

“do you know how small your brain is?”

“hogwarts is that way, dumbledore.”

“he used to say i looked like the puppet off the dolmio advert.”

“there's a kid crying over there. do you want me to...? i can tell him to shut the fuck up if you want?”

“he genuinely looked like a moomin.”

“on my first day of karate club, karate master goes to me, [name], i don't know why you're here because i can't teach you anything. if anything, you should be teaching me." and just gave me his black belt.”

“you know that little old blind man? yeah, when i was punching him in his face, the lens from his glasses broke and cut my knuckle.”

“some things are just best left in the past, where they belong.”

“what's the point in knocking if you're just going to walk in anyway?”

“it was a miscarriage of justice though, cos what people forget is 12 out of them 20 hostages actually found it funny.”

“i lied so much i still don't know what's real life and what's plain lies.”

“i'm so glad you're out of that lying phase.”

“he likes to be the only person on the road, so whenever he sees a car coming the other way he just pulls over.”

“nasa went through hundreds of them in the '60s. and now every time i see a really bright star in the sky i can't wish on it, cos in my head i'm thinking, ‘that's probably just a spacecraft with some monkey bones in it.’”

“you absolute traitor. that's my cheese - it's my fucking house!”

“don't you dare eat that cheese. you eat that and i will smash this. i promise you, i will smash you with this.”

“fuck! you switched them!”

“yeah, i can see it's fucking burnt, sherlock.”

“i honestly am ashamed to know him, sometimes.”

“if you knock on someone's door, don't take no for an answer. get into their house. if they say, ‘leave my house’, stay. and if they say, ‘i'm going to call the police’, you walk upstairs and see if there's anybody else upstairs to sell to.”

“she looks like uncle fester.”

“right. i'm going to piss in their flowers, then.”

“you really need to go home. your mum's called the police and everything.”

“you're also fired from being my best mate, by the way.”

“in business, there will always be setbacks. i don't drink my own juice, fray bentos doesn't eat his own pies. but that's business.”

“do you know what, i don't actually want to play this any more, because it is actually very, very boring.”

“i'm ashamed of myself, that's not usually me, so don't get the wrong impression.”

“i genuinely think one of them fancies me as well.”

“it's fate her moving across the street.”

“the problem with finding a girlfriend in the village is that most of the girls you meet round here are old-age pensioners.”

“yeah, i am looking for a relationship, but thing is i've just got so many trust issues, yeah, with being fucked over massive in the past, so no matter how much i get close to someone now i'm thinking in the back of my head, ‘shit, am i going to get fucked over?’ because i've been fucked over in the past massively. my last relationship proper fucked me up.”

“i went through a really dark phase. listening to papa roach and just blowing everything up with them little french bangers.”

“shut up, you don't know what you're talking about!”

“i don't like the man. i know he's my uncle, but i don't like him.”

“it's just malicious lies, that's all it is.”

“i'm not saying i've got a cruel heart, but if she ain't willing to take me as i am rather than the monster i've become, then she can literally just jog on back to sea with all the other fish cos i don't care.”

“what do you look for in a boyfriend?”

“the key to dating, yeah, is the two rs and the three ts. 'respect, rapport, and talking, talking, talking.' don't ever let that ball hit the ground. good relationships are built on great conversation.”

“on a date, you've got to tell them all the interesting stuff about you, because that's what they'll be interested in.”

“he said to me, he goes, ‘you can't smoke on here.’ i said, ‘i'm not smoking, i'm vaping.’ the look on his face when i said that. i don't think he knew what vaping… what a vape is.”

“you would make me the happiest mouse if you say yes and become my spouse.”

“here's a tip, [name], next time you take a chick out on a date, don't bore her to tears.”

“roses are red, violets are blue, i've got five fingers, the third one's for you.”

“get out of my way, pipe cleaner.”

“[name] phoned me the other day at three in the morning saying, ‘come quick,

there's a hedgehog in the garden that looks exactly like grandad.’ so i got up, i got dressed and i ran over to [name]'s as fast as i could and then i just stopped in the middle of the street at three in the morning and thought, ‘what the fuck am i doing with my life?’

“you're joking me? because if you are joking me, that is massively harsh.”

“oh, let me get a song up on youtube. you're going to absolutely love this, [name]. here we go… listen to this. oh, for fuck's sake, advert.”

“let's go down the pub and get shitfaced.”

“where do i see myself in five years? well, me and [name] will have a flat in the middle of the village and all of our furniture will be inflatable and we'll have cable and it will pay for itself, because we're going to use the spare room to breed quails, because their eggs are worth fucking shitloads.”

“is this about the calippo, still? because you offered to buy me that.”

“if he wants to go, good luck to him, i say. i reckon he thinks that i can't live without him, which is a laugh, because he went a whole weekend away once and i got on all right. i just ended up following this cat around the village.”

“i've got to do what's right for me, at the end of the day, instead of worrying about other people.”

“how about you say sorry? sorry for the massive knife that's hanging out the back of my back because of you.”

“oh, and while you're stabbing me in the back, feel free to bend down and kiss my arse.”

“can i just ask you an honest question? why would you want to leave the village when we've got a pub and a shop?”

“i think you don't know how lucky we have it to be doing nothing with our lives, like. we're all going to die, anyway, so what's the point in doing anything?”

“i want ownership of the words fucknut and dickmilk.”

“i had this come through the post. and i've got a few concerns about it. firstly, this guy on the front looks really arrogant. not the sort of guy i was expecting, if i'm honest.”

“this is starting to stress me out a little bit.”

“why are you trying to stress me out? you know i'm already stressed out as it is.”

“the bloke that used to live in there, right, kept hearing strange noises coming out of his attic at night. and he'd go to the fridge and find that food was missing from the fridge. so he thought, ‘i'm just going to go up to the attic and check this out.’ and he found an entire family of peruvian panpipe buskers just living up there. and he thought ‘i'm just going to leave them to it, ‘cos they're not really doing me any harm.’ and then, a few years later, he thought, "well, i'll just go up to the attic to check on them. ‘see if they're all right.’ and it turned out they'd all died of asbestos poisoning. yeah, he doesn't live here any more.”

“some people will always be scared of me, and i can't change that, no matter how nice i am. but there's a balance to be had between being nice and being feared.”

“don't really like catching up. it's not my thing.”

“i just watched this video of this girl doing a random act of kindness on youtube. she basically paid for this old man's shopping at the till. and this old man was, like, about 90 years old. and he's so fucking old, like, you could see through his skin. and he just starts bawling his eyes out. he's like, ‘you're fucking joking me, this ain't fucking real life.’ i just thought... i want to make someone feel like that. ‘cos that's... i really… that's what i want to do.”

“i'm not dead. just can't be arsed to text her sometimes.”

“you know, correct me if i'm wrong, but four texts a day is complete madness. no-one can keep up with that.”

“i am doing kind things selfishly.”

“i was at midnight mass one year, right, someone got tipped off i was there. as i was coming out the church, someone tries to shoot me with a crossbow.”

“well, i haven't seen the film, have i? that's why i came here - to watch the fucking film - like a normal human being.”

“i've made an effort by coming here tonight. i didn't want to come.”

“i had to wheel him here from his house in an asda trolley, cos he was just too heartbroken to move.”

“sometimes you don't know what you got until you ain't got it any more. like blockbuster's. i just took 'em for granted - and then, one day, gone, and you spend ages trying to figure out what went wrong, and then you realise it was your fault all along.”

“i thought you said you wanted to fix things.”

“she wanted it to go that way, and it just wasn't gonna go that way. she even got me thinking that they'd get back together… ..but that's manipula.... manipulative people... do that. and he's better off without her.”

“that wasn't much to write home about.”

“it's fucking dead, isn't it?”

“basically, somebody's been sending me threatening letters, and i don't know who's doing it - and i am concerned, because my peripheral vision is poor, so, if somebody attacks me from the sides or snipes at me from an upstairs window, i am fucked - but my hearing is excellent, see? so i just need to spend a few days inside honing my sonar, and i'll be fine then.”

“if you don't like the work, the circus is in town and they're always looking for clowns.”

“his soul is just going to crumble to dust.”

“this really is not a good situation for me. a physical threat is something that i can deal with, but a sexual thing is not my area of expertise.”

“just really fucked in the head, mate.”

“what have i done? i haven't done anything wrong.”

“do you know how sad that is? that is so, actually, sad. that makes me sad for you, that you can't take a joke.”

“i think i just got a bit carried away with the whole thing.”

“your finger's going up my arsehole, mate.”

“i'll hold the back of your head, so you don't bash yourself.”

“when i lie in future, i don't want a massive lecture on how bad lying is, cos deep down, you're the worst of us all, mate.”

“i'd quite like a coke.”

“it's going to be like gluing a breadstick back together, because… like, as if a breadstick's been in a blender and it's all… ...the pieces smashed up.”

“like, this one time i started a fight club in the village hall, and i got a black eye from beating myself up. but it made my enemies think, ‘fuck, if she can do that to herself, what the fuck can she do to me?’”

“i'm absolutely 1,000% sure i've broken it in two places.”

“i knew this day would come.”

“i should be in tk maxx, getting the bargains that i deserve.”

“unlike you, [name], i'm not a fashion disaster.”

“i'm still warm in my grave, and she's sucking off the pallbearer.”

“you know, it took me ten years to get over [name], and i only went out with her for half a day.”

“i swear to god, if i see him here again, i swear to god, i will have no hesitation in just going up to him and just planting one on his face.”

“right, then keep your nose out of my business, yeah? nosy old cock-womble.”

“[name]’s attitude to me is puzzling. if i walk past her in the street

and say hi, she'll tell me to fuck off. yet every year, she sends me a really sweet, nice christmas card. you know, there's just no consistency there.”

“he's good-looking up close, isn't he?”

“don't show me any weakness, because i will take advantage.”

“no, put the brick down, you fucking psychopath.”

“when i asked him, he just said, ‘come to my office now,’ which means we're in the fucking shit, cos we're always in fucking shit.”

“i shouldn't be paying you at all.”

“i've always had a son. i talk about him all the time.”

“he's my son. he's not my dog.”

“it reminds me of the wicker man. i don't really know why.”

“i just find it weird how you can be so close to someone and they can be such a big part of your life, and then the next minute, you're just sort of strangers in the night.”

“i don't want the emotional implications.”

“well, about five years ago, i sold my birthday to my mum for about 200 quid, which means my mum's legally entitled now to never celebrate my birthday ever again for the rest of my life. not even, like, a happy birthday cup of tea, or a moonpig card, nothing - which is the worst decision i ever made in my entire life.”

“he deserves that anyway, because he's been sexting my nan, so…”

“what's this surprise? cos i need to know whether it's going to be worth this walk.”

“i always see them banners above the motorway, and i always thought, ‘who the fuck does them?’ well, now i know. people like me.”

“did you know you can't get stung by a stinging nettle if you grab the leaf top and bottom, like that? it's only when you touch it on the sides, it stings. agh, actually, that stung, then.”

“pez dispenser, they're cursed. they are, i'm not even joking. honestly, when i had one of them, i had the worst bout of bad luck i ever had in my life.”

“i swear down, it's a short cut. it might be a pleasant walk, we might enjoy it.”

“i'm not scared of the fox twins. i'd just like to sit them down and ask 'em plainly, ‘look, guys, what is going on? ‘cos this has just gotten completely out of hand now. you know, stop walking on your knuckles, stand up straight, be the best version of you that you can be. get a job, even. there's a trolley boy who works at tesco's, you know, who may as well have been raised by wolves. if he can get a job, you guys can walk it.’”

“yes, there has been talk of strange goings-on in the woods, ghost sightings and the like. but… ...they're never from particularly reliable sources.”

“i live with a ghost. there's a ghost in that house. he's like a civil war cavalier, with all the hair and the hat and all that. and every time i walk into the living room, he doffs his cap. and on his shoulder, he's got this crow that barks at me. it means i spend less time in the house, really. not because of him, because he's-he's quite peaceable. but the crow is malevolent. and i'm not having that. i can't share my house with a malevolent bird.”

“that's haunted as fuck.”

“am i going mad here, or does that, to you, look like that's where just ghost will hang out all the time?”

“look at him, little red riding twat.”

“if he's got an attitude with me, i swear to god, i'll just grab the steering wheel and drive us all into a wall.”

“it's a bit annoying, actually. cos this is not the first or the second time i've had to tell you, really, is it?”

“his sparkle has just gone.”

“you know my dad actually wrote the song wonderwall on the back of a beer mat in the space of ten minutes, don't you?”

“i've just got a tiny, tiny, tiny little favour to ask you.”

“when i think of [name], i think of someone who is very loyal. and very, very stupid. sort of more stupid than loyal. sort of 70% stupid, 30% loyal, probably. because she's very loyal. but extremely stupid.”

“do you know what? i actually don't think he loves you at all and i don't think he's ever loved you.”

“all right, that's harsh and unnecessary, but fine.”

“frankly, she is behaving like the antichrist.”

“i literally just got here.”

“you are such an unemotional slab of ham, [name].”

“i've got so much shit on that man you would not believe.”

“there's something in my eye.”

“i just can't quit him, you know?”

“yeah, we might have a fiery relationship,  but when we're together, it's just… it's just pure chemistry, isn't it?”

“i'm not proud of it, believe me. but at the end of the day, i'm a very vindictive person, you know? it is what makes me me.”

“i basically went out and bought an alpaca off gumtree for £500. of all the mistakes i've made in my life, that was possibly the largest. definitely the physically largest.”

“yeah, i really don't wanna talk about that.”

“her only loyalty is to herself, staffies, and the tv channel dave… ...which, in my opinion, is a tv channel made by knuckle-draggers for knuckle-draggers.”

“i can't move on till i've seeked revenge, unfortunately.”

“if that was in france, that would be fine, but we're not in france.”

“the only thing we had in common, really, was stealing, and that was more my thing that i got him onto. but it just goes to show, you know, some friendships last and some friendships don't, but that's just the way it is.”

“you know it was me that got you sacked, don't you?”

“the thing i learnt about friendship is, you gotta accept each other's flaws, no matter how toxic they may be.”

“shit-stirring from beyond the grave.”

[streetlight11]

Birthday Gift

Summary: If you told your younger self 4 years ago that you would be in a happy, long distance relationship with someone who lives miles away from you up till today, your younger self would have laughed at you. But here you are, 4 years later, happy and totally in love with the boy you met online after he randomly followed you on social media. But you've never once met him in person. On your 24th birthday, you were getting a birthday gift that you never thought you would receive so soon.

Theme: long distance relationship au, strangers to lovers

Genre: super fluffy

WC: 2k

Pairing: Bae Jacob x Fem!Reader

a/n: Hello! This has been in my drafts for quite a bit so here it is. This fic is too too fluffy, even for me who wrote this. Cobie is such a sweetheart, I can't-... Anyways, I hope you like this as much as I enjoy writing it! :)

Being in a long distance relationship is difficult as it needs to have a huge amount of trust, understanding, discipline and a lot of reassurance. However, despite all the fights you may have due to miscommunications and most of the time just lack of physical affection, you still cherish and love your boyfriend very much. You met your boyfriend online as he added you on social media a few years back. You clicked on his profile only to see that he lived in South Korea.

He looks to be a professional dancer and also a full time student in one of the colleges there. Not to mention, super good looking too. However, you weren’t really expecting anything at that point of time only because you don’t really believe in long distance relationships. You’ve always thought it might be hard and that it will never last.

So you just accepted his request and followed him back. The next day, you were in class when you got a DM from someone. And since you rarely got a DM from any guys, you were surprised to see his username pop up.

You clicked the message after about 10 minutes or so to see what he texted you, thinking he was just another weirdo who wants to scam you.

His message said;

“Hello! I saw your account and I really love your content. I’m sorry if this is too weird. I understand if you don’t wish to reply.”

With that, you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh as you didn’t know why but you began to type your reply, “Haha thank you! That’s so nice of you to say that.” You hit the send button and a few minutes later, he replied. That’s when you began to chat with him for quite a while before he asked.

“I’m so sorry, where have my manners gone? I’m Bae Joon Young but you can just call me Jacob. And you are?”

You replied to him with a smile as your fingers tapped against your smartphone, “I’m Y/F/N but you can call me Y/N.”

Ever since then, you have been chatting with him over DMs for quite a while, just to see if you can sort of trust and be comfortable with him or not. It took you almost 5 months to finally add him in your kakao talk.

Both of you have already done both voice and video call which means you already knew how each other looked and you seemed to have grown your trust in him. Jacob seemed like a genuine guy as you found out that he was your age internationally. Months became years and both of you have already introduced your partners to your parents.

However, at first, your parents weren’t too sure about this whole long distance relationship thing. But they didn’t want to disappoint you so instead of asking you to break up and find a local guy, they let you carry on with this relationship if you believe that it would work. Surprisingly, it took your parents less than a month to get warm with Jacob as they finally got comfortable every time he video calls you.

It has been 4 years since you two agreed to pursue this long distance relationship as it marks your 4th anniversary today. You were just lounging in your room when Jacob decided to skype call you through his desktop.

You accepted the call as he smiled adorably into the camera and waved to you, making you giggle as you waved back. “Happy anniversary baby.” Jacob said.

“Happy anniversary my love. Where are you?” You asked.

“I’m in my dorm. Younghoon’s out with our friends.”

“Why aren’t you with them?” You pout.

“I wanted to celebrate our anniversary.”

“Baby, you didn’t have to, you could have called me after.”

“Don’t you want to see me?” He asked sadly.

“Of course I do. It’s just… I feel like I might be the reason why you may not hang out with your friends as often as you do.”

“Baby, listen to me. I’m so lucky to have you as my girlfriend, dang am I lucky to have you reply to my message 4 years ago. I never thought that we could actually last this long but hey, look at us now.” You smiled as you looked down at your hands, only to look back up and see him pout.

“I love you so much, you know that right? And I can never ask for someone to replace you.” He said, making you sigh.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” You asked softly, making him chuckle.

“How I wish I could enter my computer screen and just hug you and kiss you.” He whispered, making you smile sadly, knowing that could never happen, or at least it wouldn’t happen any time soon. You continue talking to him until you fall asleep, making him chuckle softly at your figure. Looking at you through his monitor screen endearingly.

“Goodnight my sweetheart.” He said those last words softly before he ended the call.

Days slowly became weeks and it was the same routine again and again but neither of you were getting bored or tired from it. He would always reassure you that he still loves you and that he would never hurt your feelings in any possible way. It was your birthday that day and your parents had booked a restaurant for you to celebrate and have your birthday dinner with your family, like how it has always been for the past few years.

It would be you, both your parents, your elder sister and her husband along with your 5 years old niece.

You chose to wear a white floral blouse with a pair of denim jeans as you paired it with your heeled sandals. You were in the car with your parents, on your way to the restaurant when Jacob voice called you.

“Hello?” He said.

“Hi Love.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m heading to a restaurant with my family for my birthday dinner. What about you?”

“Oh wow. Where to, this time? I’m just out with the boys.”

“I honestly don’t know. They didn’t tell me.” You laughed as your mother then smiled and spoke up from the front passenger seat.

“Hello dear. How are you sweetie?”

With that, you scooted to the centre of the back seat and put your call on speaker mode. Just then, you heard Jacob respond. “Hello Ma’am, I’m doing well. I wish I could be there to celebrate with all of you.” Jacob said, making you smile sadly as your parents let out a soft chuckle.

“It’s okay son, one of these days, you’ll get to meet our daughter and us.” Your dad said as you could already hear a smile etching on Jacob’s lips.

“Yes sir. I hope so.” Your boyfriend said before you giggled as you turned the speaker mode back off before bringing your phone to your ears. “Hmm, babe I think we’re here. I’ll call you again after dinner okay?” You said into the line.

“It’s okay baby. Don’t worry. Have fun tonight. I love you.”

“I love you too…” You paused for a moment as he waited for you to continue.

“I miss you Jacob.” You couldn’t help but whisper as a tear rolled down your cheek, making him frown.

“Baby please don’t cry. Promise me you won’t cry.” He said, making you nod as you sniffled your cries.

“I’ll try.” You said as you then bid him goodbye before ending the call.

Your sister had already arrived as you and your parents went to the front entrance where a waiter was waiting. Your dad told him that they’ve already made a reservation under your dad’s name as the waiter checked his list and soon smiled at the three of you. “Right this way.” The waiter said as he soon guided you towards the back of the restaurant where there were private rooms with opaque curtains to block the view of those sitting inside.

You were walking last as you texted your boyfriend in the process.

Once you were at the booth, your dad asked you to enter first, in which you got confused but nonetheless did as you were told. However, the minute you pushed the curtains open, your eyes immediately landed on the one person sitting at the very end of the table nearest to the entrance.

You felt your whole body freeze as you couldn’t find the right words. He was there, right in front of you, in one piece. It was him. It was your boyfriend. He was really there physically. You couldn’t believe this.

“Wha- I- When… Omg… Omg…” You whispered as everyone laughed, only for Jacob to chuckle as he got up, making you feel so flustered.

“Happy Birthday my love.” He said, as he walked up to you but you were still frozen in shock.

“Surprise!” Your family said in unison happily.

You locked eyes with Jacob as he engulfed you in a hug. That’s when you began to bawl your eyes out against his shoulder as you could finally feel his arms around your body, holding you tight as though he was afraid of losing you. Jacob laughed softly as he let you cry into his shoulder, while he gently rubs soothing circles in your back to calm you down.

You had your arms wrapped around his waist securely, afraid that if you let go, he would disappear. “Shh, don’t cry baby. Don’t cry.” He whispered in your ear, only for you to cry harder. He laughed even more as your mother and sister were already tearing up at the side.

You pull away from him as he gently wipes your tears with his thumbs. “You’re here… You’re actually here…” You whispered, your breath shaky as he nodded, cupping your face softly in his hands. “Yes love. I’m here. I’m really here.” Jacob said, making you pout. Still unable to believe this was real.

Jacob smiled widely as he pulled you into a hug again, only for you to bury your face in his chest, feeling him draw lazy patterns into your waist. After nearly 30 minutes of you holding onto him and being in your own little bubble, the 7 of you finally settled down to celebrate your birthday dinner. After dinner was over, your parents offered Jacob to stay over at your family home for the next two weeks that he is staying here in your country before he flies back to Korea.

Jacob thanked your parents for letting him stay over as you couldn’t stop holding his hand. The way his hands fit in yours so perfectly as he showered you with so much love and warmth, just like how he did through all the video calls and texts.

That night when everyone had gone home, your parents knew that you probably wanted to spend time with him so they let him sleep in your room.

After both of you had already changed and were getting ready for bed, he pulled you onto his side as you rested your head on his chest. Jacob hugs you close as you tighten your grasp on his shirt. “What’s wrong?” He asked as he glanced down a little.

“I’m just so happy you’re here. I still need time to process this information.” You confessed.

Jacob chuckled softly as he whispered, “I’m really happy to be able to finally see you in person. This means so much to me.”

“Me too.”

Just then, the room fell quiet as you just looked into each other’s eyes, seeing the sparkles coating both your pupils as he gently caressed your cheek. Right at that moment, Jacob seemed to read your mind as he gently pulled you up a little. Without much words, Jacob decides to ask the one question that both of you had in mind.

“Can I kiss you?”

With that, you smiled shyly as you nodded. Jacob smiles in victory as he leans down softly to finally feel your soft lips on his and it has never felt so magical. Both of you took in this new feeling as he kissed you sweetly.

You spent the next two weeks with him, just making the most of your time. A month after he went back to Korea, it was your turn to give him a surprise visit as you managed to book a flight to Korea, asking for Jacob’s help to fetch you at the airport and bring you over to his apartment.

You stayed with Jacob for two days before surprising Jacob for his birthday party. Jacob did such a good job at taking care of you and making sure that you weren’t lost in Korea.

Despite the long distance, it definitely made you two grow stronger and gain even more trust in one another. It was a blessing in disguise that you accepted his request 4 years ago.

And you regretted none of it.

~~~

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝑴𝒂𝒇𝒊𝒂! 𝑨𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒛: 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝑾𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝑰𝒔 𝑰𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝑨𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝑯𝒆𝒓 𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒈𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒚

Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, supporting, justifying or encouraging mafia activities or lifestyle. This is all fictional and not meant to represent real life scenarios.

❅𝐾𝑖𝑚 𝐻𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑗𝑜𝑜𝑛𝑔

You huffed as you tried to zip up your dress but to no avail. It would not budge because of the baby bump that was growing. In one last attempt to zip it up, you actually ended up ripping the zipper, causing you to gasp in horror.

"Oh no." Your hand covered your mouth as you stared in shock at yourself in the mirror.

"Honey are you ready to go?" Hongjoong asked, as he came into the room.

Hongjoong noticed how you kept staring at your reflection in the mirror, immobile and not responding to him.

"Hey baby? What is it?" He came up behind you, his arms sliding down protectively around your stomach.

Unwillingly, you let out tears and started sobbing.

"I'm....fat." You whined as you wiped some tears off your face, effectively making some of your eye makeup smudge.

Hongjoong pouted and shook his head cutely at you.

"Baby no. You're not fat. You're carrying a baby, our baby. Our beautiful little bundle of joy that we created together and that I can't wait to bring into this world with you."

You smiled softly at his words. Placing a kiss to your cheek, he continued:

"You're absolutely beautiful love. And if I must admit, I think you look more lovely with the baby bump." He sent a wink to you through the mirror, causing you to burst out giggling.

"Tell you what? Let's skip the dinner date and just stay home and cuddle. Ok?"

❅𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝑆𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑔ℎ𝑤𝑎

Sitting on your bed, waiting for Seonghwa to come out of the bathroom, you kept replaying your mother in law's words in your head.

"I remember when I gave birth to Seonghwa. He came a little earlier than expected while his father was away on a business trip. So I had to go through the birth process all alone. You can imagine how scared I was."

Her story shook you to your core. Seonghwa often had to go away. What if the same thing happened to you? What if he misses the birth of your child? And you had to endure all of it alone?

You were so immersed in your worries, you failed to notice that Seonghwa was standing next to you and were woken up when his hand touched your shoulder.

"What is it my dear?" He asked, knowing something was troubling you.

"I don't want to go through this by myself..." You admitted, one of your hands going to your bump to get your point across.

Seonghwa understood what you were talking about, the way you kept quiet and became pensive when his mom told her story did not go unnoticed by him. Seonghwa kneeled in front of you. Taking your hands in his, he promised you:

"And you won't. I'm not going to leave you or our child alone during this time. My father missed my birth and it's something that he regrets to this day. I don't want to do the same. I want to be there for you and our baby. I'm going to be there every step of the way. I promise."

Leaning in, he sealed his promise with a kiss, and you were now much calmer with his reassuring words.

❅𝐽𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑌𝑢𝑛ℎ𝑜

You took a deep breath as soon as you stepped inside the house, relieved to finally be back in the comfort of your own home. It's not that you hated your in laws, but to have them constantly tell you how to take care of their future grandson, because apparently you don't know what you're doing, irritated you.

If you were honest, at times you felt like they just saw you as an incubator instead of what you really were: Yunho's wife and mother of his child. It was horrible.

You went to the kitchen and decided to prepare yourself a little snack. You opted for something on the spicier side since you were craving it really badly. Right at that moment, Yunho came in and when he saw what you were eating he quickly took it away.

"Hey!" You exclaimed, trying to get your food back.

"You can't eat spicy food. Mom said it increases the risk of a miscarriage. " Yunho said while holding the plate high above your head.

"No it doesn't! Now give it back." You desperately tried to jump and take it away from him.

"Y/N stop doing that. It could hurt the baby or-"

"Oh for fuck's sake Yunho will you shut up and stop repeating everything your parents say?! I'm sick and tired of them basically tell me I'm not a good mother. I already feel shitty enough as it is with the mood swings and pregnancy pains, and I don't need you or anyone else making me feel worse than I already do!"

You finally snapped. You turned around and began crying tears of pain, fear, rage and frustration. Yunho felt horrible. He realized now he should have protected you more but he didn't. Carefully, he hugged you from behind.

"Baby, you're doing an amazing job. You'll see, you're going to be the best mom in the whole world. I'm proud of you. And.... I'm sorry about my parents. I promise I won't let them have a say in how we raise our baby anymore. Ok?"

He turned you around and began wiping your tears away.

"Don't cry anymore love. I hate to see you cry. Could you please smile for me?"

❅𝐾𝑎𝑛𝑔 𝑌𝑒𝑜𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑔

It was already difficult for Yeosang and you to get pregnant. You spent almost 3 years trying, about to give up hope, when it finally happened. You were pregnant and Yeosang was elated with the news.

Although you and him were extremely careful, being your first child and everything, you still felt uneasy at times. It didn't help when you went to visit your family and ended up finding out all of your aunts have had at least 1 miscarriage before.

"Don't be so surprised dear. All women in our family have had a miscarriage."

You looked over at your own mother, who unfortunately had to confirm their allegations and tell you about the older sister you were supposed to have.

Since then you became paranoid. It was already a struggle to get pregnant, what if you were to actually lose the baby. One night, you had a terrible nightmare that had you shaking and bawling your eyes out. It was so intense, Yeosang had to wake you up and hold you for 10 minutes until you calmed down.

You then told him about what your aunts said, about your dream and your fear of something happening to your baby. Although Yeosang was scared as well, he had to be strong for both of you.

"Honey, please don't think such things. So far we've been very careful about this and the doctor says everything is fine. If you worry too much about this, it could be harmful."

"I know, I know Yeosang.....but what if I do have a miscarriage? What will we do then? How do we know we won't have one?" You asked him.

Yeosang held back the tears threatening to spill out. He refused to imagine that scenario in his head.

"We don't know Y/N, no one ever knows these things....but I do know that I love you and our baby. And I know we're doing our best. I can't promise you that nothing will happen....but whatever happens, I want you to know you're not alone. I'm here with you, by your side and we're going to get through all this together. No matter what comes."

Yeosang kissed your forehead reassuringly. Although he was scared, he had hope that both of you would be able to bring your baby into this world safely and unharmed.

❅𝐶ℎ𝑜𝑖 𝑆𝑎𝑛

You immediately turned off the TV. You internally cursed yourself for watching another drama therapist show. You usually rolled your eyes when it turnt out someone cheated on their spouse, but this recent one made you paranoid. Because the husband had cheated on his pregnant wife because 'he had needs she couldn't fulfill'.

It got you paranoid. You immediately started wondering if San would ever cheat on you, that is if he hadn't already. It had been 5 months since you last had sex. For all you knew, he could be seeing someone else. As if on cue, San walked into the house.

"Hi honey. How's my lovely-"

"Who are you seeing?" You immediately accused him.

San looked at you as if you were crazy.

"What are you talking about?" He asked, genuinely confused.

"Don't lie to me! Who are you cheating on me with?" Maybe you were jumping to conclusions too hastily, but you were so anxious to think rationally.

"Who am I cheating on you with? What has gotten into you woman?" San could not believe what he was hearing.

That's when you broke down and confessed rather embarrassingly the whole situation. San listened to you patiently, without judgment and you felt worse.

"I'm sorry." You apologized.

"Baby it's fine, I get why you'd get worried, but trust me. I'm not some asshole that's going to cheat on my wife, who by the way is carrying my child. I mean seriously, who does that?" San actually cringed at the thought, making you laugh a little.

"Baby I love you and only you. And why would I want anyone else when I'm lucky enough to have all this?" San smiled as he pulled you close to him.

"So you still find me attractive?" You asked with doe eyes.

San chuckled.

"Baby I think you're the most beautiful person in the world. And besides....."

Carefully, he picked you up and began taking you to your bedroom.

"Who says we can't make love while you're pregnant?"

❅𝑆𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑖

Mingi came into the house all happy. Wanting to surprise you with a date in a fancy restaurant, he waltzed into the room and hugged you tightly.

"Hi love!" He screeched loudly as he pecked your lips.

"And hello to you as well." He gently rubbed your belly, cooing softly.

He looked back at you, noticing that you loved out of sorts.

"Is something wrong?" He asked.

"I'm just not in a good mood." You replied, your voice had a cold tone to it.

Mingi smiled. "Perfect! I know just how to cheer you up! I made reservations for a date! So why don't you make yourself look even more beautiful so we can go?"

"I don't want to." You said, sitting on the bed.

Mingi pouted at you.

"But baby. I really want to take you and our baby out. So please-"

"No Mingi! I told you, I'm not in a good mood! I'm cranky and this pregnancy is killing me, I'm sore all over my body and I'm carrying an extra 40 pounds that I'm not used to and it's all your fault!"

Mingi stood there, shook at your sudden outburst.

"My fault?"

"Yes! You were the one who wanted to have a baby, it was your idea yet you're not the one having to go through all this! It's me! You selfish idiot!" You crossed your arms and glared at him.

Usually Mingi would have been hurt by your words, but after months of dealing with your raging hormones, he knew you didn't actually mean what you said. Sitting next to you, he wrapped an arm around you.

"Come on Y/N, you know you don't mean that..."

Chuckling, he teased:

"And if I remember correctly, you were thrilled and wanted to immediately start trying when I brought up the idea of having a baby."

You poked your bottom lip out in annoyance, not wanting to admit he was right. Mingi laughed softly and kissed your pouty lips.

"Did you know you're even more adorable when you get all feisty and angry?" He said as he pinched your cheeks.

"Stop." You swatted his arm away, unable to contain the smile that soon spread on your face.

Mingi may be your annoying husband at times, but he always knew how to make you soft.

❅𝐽𝑢𝑛𝑔 𝑊𝑜𝑜𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑔

"Must you go?"

You held onto Wooyoung's arm, refusing to let him go.

"I'm sorry about canceling movie night darling, but it's important and the guys need me."

Wooyoung sighed as he put on his jacket and began loading his revolver.

"It's not that it's just..."

You stopped yourself and looked down. Wooyoung stopped what he was doing and caressed your arms.

"What is it babe?" He urged you to tell him.

You looked at him and told him:

"I'm scared ok? You've been doing this for years, but now I'm scared. Scared of something happening to you...or someone breaking in and hurting me or our baby..."

You couldn't form any more words, getting choked up with your emotions. You began thinking about all the worst case scenarios that could possibly happen. For all you knew, you could end up being a young widow and single mother for the rest of your life.

Wooyoung pulled you against him, his hand stroking your hair. That was all it took for you to start crying as you held onto him like your life or his depended on it.

"Sweetheart, I promised I'd protect you and I'm not breaking my promise. Nothing will happen to you or our child." He whispered softly.

"What about you? What if something happens to you while on a mission?"

Wooyoung actually let out a laugh at that.

"Babygirl, nothing can kill me. I'm practically bulletproof."

You hit his chest.

"What? It's true. Come on Y/N. I'm not about to let anything happen to me. I need to stay alive to be there and hold our precious daughter when she arrives."

You rolled your eyes.

"We don't know if it's a girl yet-"

"She's a girl! And that's final! We're having a girl!" He exclaimed, refusing to believe he was wrong.

❅𝐶ℎ𝑜𝑖 𝐽𝑜𝑛𝑔ℎ𝑜

"What's on your mind honey bunch?"

Jongho knew you well enough to know something was troubling you.

"Do you think this was a good idea?" You asked him.

"Ordering food from this place? Definitely not. This is why I say we don't try new places." Jongho let out a tiny 'bleh' when he tried something that was a little too spicy for his liking.

"No....I mean...the baby."

Jongho dropped his fork and looked at you in shock.

"You're....you're not actually regretting this..are you?" He was afraid to hear your answer.

"No, not the baby .... but me." You said.

"You? Why?" Jongho got up and went immediately went to your side.

"I mean....what if I end up being a bad mother? What if I don't know what to do? I'm scared Jongho." You looked at him, face full of worry.

"Pumpkin, listen. I'm scared too. I mean.... it is our first time."

You both chuckled at that .

"But the thing is, we're both going to try our best to give our baby a good life and to protect it as best we can. And I can assure you that I think you'll be a wonderful mother."

Your eyes lit up at his comment.

"You really think so?"

Jongho nodded and pulled you onto his lap.

"I do. I mean, you take good care of Mingi. I'd say you already know the basics of taking care of a baby." He snorted.

You laughed despite not wanting to.

"You're so mean to him!"

"If you want extra practice, I can ask him to come."

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners.

[moon-light-jukebox]

Our boy - [Reid x Reader]

Summary: Spencer Reid is anything but calm when his wife, reader, goes into labor.

Pairing: Spencer Reid / (Female) Reader

Rating: Wholesome AF

Word Count: 2.3k

Category: Pure fluff. Maybe some angst if you squint, just because childbirth is angsty.

Content Warning: None that I can think of.

A/n: This is just a quick little idea that popped into my head earlier. I wrote it all in one go. We don’t get enough Dad!Spencer. 😊 Reader’s labor was inspired by true events. 

y/n = your name. italicized block of text is a flash back.

-- Our boy -- 

“Babe, you have got to calm down.” I didn’t even bother opening my eyes to look at my husband; I was too tired.

His voice was as close to a squawk as I have ever heard. “I am calm, y/n!” That had me cracking one eye open to stare at him, which caused him to huff out a short laugh. “Okay, maybe I’m not calm. But how can I be calm?” His beautiful brown eyes were swimming with worry. “This has taken such a long time, and you’re so tired. The doctor said things haven’t been progressing.”

“Oh, come on, doctor,” I said teasingly. “I’m sure that big brain of yours knows that it’s not uncommon for first time mothers to labor for a long time.”

“But it’s been thirty hours,” he protested.

“I’m aware. Talk to your son.” I pointed to my very large stomach. “This is his show.”

That caused him to smile, the first real smile I had seen on his face since he arrived here, about an hour after I did. We knew this was coming, I was overdue, our son choosing to stay inside my body for 41 weeks and 6 days. The doctors had said if I hit 42 weeks that we needed to discuss inducing labor. Because of that conversation, Spencer wasn’t with the rest of the team, they were on some case in god knows where, instead he was helping at headquarters with Penelope. The same woman I had called when my water broke. I wanted to call Spencer, I really did…but my husband is prone to overact, especially in situations like this.

Turns out calling Penelope wasn’t any better.

--

“Hello, Mrs. Dr. Reid!” she had chirped.

“Hi Penelope. Is my husband around?”

“He is with the second love of his life.”

Which meant he had made a coffee run. I laughed, despite the pain rippling across my stomach. “Okay, well, I need you to pull him away for the first love of his life. My water just broke.”

There was a beat of silence before the screaming started. “YOUR WHAT JUST WHAT?!”

Just at that moment I heard him in the background. “Garcia,” my husband said. “Who’s what did what?”

“Penelope, be-“

It was no use; she had already started screaming at him. “YOUR WIFE! YOUR SON IS TRYING TO EXIT HER LADY BUSINESS! WE HAVE TO GO!!”

They then promptly hung up, only to call back a few minutes later and ask which hospital I was at.

--

There was a knock on the door, drawing me out of my memories. “Mrs. Reid?” the doctor called before walking into the room. She was a short woman with curly grey hair; Spencer and I had never met her before, she was just the doctor on call, but something about her demeanor put me at ease.

I gave her a wan smile. “Hey Doc.”

She marched into the room them, no nonsense to be found; which was unfortunate, I was a very big fan of nonsense as perfectly highlighted by the man I chose to marry. “Mrs. Reid, I need to check to see where you’re at,” she said, already snapping on her gloves.

“Knock yourself out.” At a certain point during labor modesty just vanishes. I don’t even want to think about how many people have seen my vagina today.

I felt some pressure for a few seconds before she pulled back. “You’re still at 5 centimeters.”

This comment got a groan from my husband. “But she has to get to 10!”

“I’m aware, Dr. Reid.”

“She’s been in labor for 30 hours and 23 minutes and 16 seconds!”

“I am also aware of that, Dr. Reid,” she said, suppressing a smile. “Which is why we need to have a little chat.” She turned to me. “Mrs. Reid, I’m concerned about the baby.”

That caused mine and Spencer’s spines to stiffen. “What,” I asked. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“Not yet,” the doctor said hurriedly. “We have been monitoring your contractions and vitals…but we also monitor the baby’s heartrate. It’s nothing to be too alarmed about now, but his heartrate has slowed a bit.”

“But what does that mean? Is he in destress?” My husband asked; he sounded so afraid that I instinctively reached out to grasp his hand.

“It means he’s tired, Dr. Reid.” She offered us a small smile. “Mrs. Reid isn’t the only one going through this. The baby is too. Like I said, it’s not low enough to be an issue now, but if it drops much lower, we need to discuss other options.”

“…he’s tired?” my voice cracked on the last word, tears already pricking in the corners of my eyes.

“Baby,” Spencer whispered, leaning over to place a kiss on my temple. “It’s alright.”

I shook my head. “It’s not. It’s not alright. He’s my baby, Spencer. He’s our baby,” I all but bawled at him. “Our baby is tired.” I’m sure one day I’ll look back at this moment and feel silly for how upset I had become…but I was so tired, and while the epidural numbed the pain, I still felt it. All of that I could endure, but I couldn’t endure this.

“I know,” he soothed. “But he’s fine. He’s okay.”

“I want to discuss other options,” I said, meeting the doctor’s gaze. “What are they?”

The doctor nodded, “Well, we could start a Pitocin IV. That’s a medicine we use to-“

“Cause the uterus to contract and speed up or induce labor,” Spencer interrupted, causing me to laugh, despite my tears. Even in times like this he was still…Spencer.

The doctor did not share in my amusement. “Yes,” she huffed. “That is one option. It runs the same risks, if his heartrate drops, we’ll need to move you to the O.R.” I gulped and Spencer squeezed my hand. “The other option is to take you back to the O.R. now.”

I looked over at Spencer, his eyes were wide and frightened, his always messy, curly hair was in a worse state than usual, his clothes were wrinkled. “I want our boy, Spence.”

He just nodded, bringing our joined hands up to his mouth to press a kiss to my knuckles. “It’s up to you, y/n. You know I’ll support whatever you want.”

Spencer gave me the courage to turn to face the doctor. “Let’s do it.”

--

Things progressed very quickly and very slowly at the same time. The room started bustling with different people doing different things to get me ready. Spencer called Penelope, who called the rest of his team, who were now all in the waiting room. How much Spencer’s co-workers at the FBI cared about him made me smile; they were his family, and by extension my family. Our little boy was going to be the most well looked after child in history.

Before I knew it, I was laying on my back in the operating room, a blue sheet put up just below my boobies. Apparently, most people didn’t want to watch themselves have a c-section. I couldn’t but laugh at the absurdity of the moment.

“What is it, my love?”

I turned my head to look at Spencer. His clothes were covered by some sort of yellow outfit, his hair was stuffed in one of those blue hat’s hospitals make you wear, I’m sure he could tell me the proper name, even his shoes were covered. One of his hands was gripping mine, the other slowly stroking the top of my head.

“I was just thinking about everything. Remember when we met?”

I realized how silly it was to ask a man with an eidetic memory if he remembered something right after I said it, something with which he agreed, given the look on his face. “Yes, y/n, I remember.” His hand squeezed mine tightly. “It was a Tuesday morning, at 7:34 a.m. You had on black pants and a light blue top, you didn’t notice me, but I thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world.”

That caused a tear to slide down from the corner of my eye, only to be wiped away by my husband. “I didn’t notice you because you were in line behind me,” I teased.

“That’s no excuse,” he insisted. “I would notice you anywhere.”

That made my heart squeeze in my chest. “I must be pretty special,” I surmised. “I pulled your attention away from coffee.”

His voice was breathy, his eyes shimmering. “You’re the most special thing in the entire world, y/n. I don’t know what I did to deserve you. I don’t know how I got the courage to speak to you when you walked by me, but I’ll be grateful that I did it for the rest of my life.”

It was my turn to reach up and wipe a tear from his face. “I’m glad you stopped me,” I whispered. “Our little guy probably is too.”

Spencer didn’t laugh like I expected him to; instead he bit his lip, his eyes bouncing from my face to the blue curtain that separated us from the doctors.

“What is it, baby?”

He swallowed, letting out a shaky breath. “I’m scared, y/n,” he whispered. “I’m afraid that I won’t be any good at this. I never had a dad…What if I’m not everything he needs me to be?”

I felt my heart crack in half. “Spencer, that’s not possible,” I insisted, ignoring the way he started to shake his head. “You could never let anyone down, especially not your family. Especially not your son. You are going to be the most amazing father. You’re going to love our son so much; you already do love him that much, Spence.”

He was crying in earnest now. “But, y/n,”

Spencer never got to finish that sentence. The doctor suddenly interrupted our hushed conversation. “Okay, dad,” she called. “Here he comes!”

My husband placed a kiss on my forehead before he stood up, looking over the curtain. He had insisted beforehand that he wasn’t going to look; he said he didn’t want to see me like that, but I knew he’d end up looking. My husband was far too curious to do anything else.  

A shrill cry cut through the air, causing my heart to stop. That was him. I had never heard him cry before, but I knew that sound as sure as I knew my own name; that was my son.

Spencer and I were crying when the doctor brought him around the curtain so I could see him. He was wrinkly, red, and looked positively furious. I had never loved anything more.

They took him to the examination room to make sure he was breathing okay. Spencer had told me after c-section births this was normal. “They don’t get squeezed when they’re born,” he had said. “So, the nurse checks them over, weighs them, all that.”

He looked down at me, tears streaming down his face, then back towards our son.

“Go,” I urged him. “Go get our boy, Spence. I’m fine.”

--

Spencer’s head poked through the door of my room. “Are you ready?” he asked.

“REID. If you don’t get the fuck out of my way and let me see my godson I swear to GOD.”

“Oh,” I groaned, giggling slightly, despite the pain. “Please don’t make me laugh.”

I don’t know if Spencer moved willingly or if Penelope had just had enough, but soon the door was thrown open and a parade of people poured inside.

“Oh, my god, Mrs. Dr. Reid,” Penelope gushed, her hands hovering over my son, then back up towards my face. “You look like an angel. How did you just have major surgery? How did you just give birth, because a c-section is giving birth-“

“Penelope,” I cut her off. “Do you want to see him?”

“Gimme.”

I pulled the blankets down around his body, staring at his little face before I handed him over.

“Oh, my mother effin god,” she whispered, looking around at everyone else in the room. “He is the most beautiful child I have ever seen. He even looks like a genius. I don’t know if you can look like a genius, but I think he does.”

“You don’t have to whisper, Garcia,” my husband said, coming to stand beside me, leaning over to kiss my forehead again. “She is right though, Mrs. Dr. Reid. You’re beautiful.”

“Quit hogging the baby,” JJ said, reaching for him. “I’m the co-god mother. Hand him over.”

Emily leaned over JJ’s shoulder, staring at him with a look of wonder. “What did you guys decide to name him?”

“Arthur,” I said quietly. “His name is Arthur Spencer Reid.”

--

The room was dark when I opened my eyes, my head turning towards the tiny cry that woke me up.

“I know, I know,” my husband whispered to the tiny bundle in his arms. “I miss your mom too; she’s the best person in the world and I wish she could be awake all the time too.” I bit my lip, trying to suppress my laugh. “But you have to let her sleep some, little man.” My son gave another cry. “I know, believe me.”

“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice thick with sleep.

“Talking to Arthur,” he said simply. “You know, speaking to a child whenever they reach the babbling stage of their cognitive development is actually very important. It encourages them to learn the language they’re hearing. You know, children are actually experts at learning languages. Studies have shown that children that become fluent in a language before the age of 13 are often able to fool native speakers into thinking they’re native speakers themselves.”

“Huh,” I said, smiling like a dope. That was my Spencer. “Did you hear that, Arthur? It sounds like your dad wants to teach you some languages.”

“Only a couple,” he whispered to our boy. Then he looked up at me, his eyes bright, despite the dark circles under them.

“You’re tired, babe,” I said, moving to sit up. “Give him here, you can get some rest.”

He just shook his head. “No, I’m alright. You rest.” Spencer looked down at his son again, who was already back to sleep. “No dream I have could be better than this.”

As usual, Dr. Spencer Reid was absolutely right.

-- 

Taglist: @rachelxwayne​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @sickeninglyshoujo @justagirllookingforherplace