#i appreciate the soldier preparing food

[clove-pinks]

2013 Garrison Day at Fort George, Niagara-on-the-Lake. Black and white photography by Michael Hurley.

[homeofthelonelywriter]

“Thanks, Simon, I owe you!” The soldier watched you rush around the apartment, making sure you had grabbed everything you needed, with a smile. “Don’t worry, love, you go have fun at Pilates. The little one and I will have a great time.” His hands, gentle on your shoulders, steered you out the door before he closed the door, keeping you from coming up with an excuse to stay after all.

If he was completely honest, he was actually kind of excited to spend some one-on-one time with your daughter. After all, if he wanted to have any chance of getting with you, he would have to charm the little girl first. Maybe that was why he had stopped at a toy store before coming to your apartment, picking up the doll you had told him about—the one your daughter had seen in a commercial a few weeks ago and had wanted ever since. Kids could be bribed, after all, right?

And thankfully, everything went well. Your daughter had a field day with the tough soldier. Making him play pretend, having a tea party, and playing hide-and-seek, all before she sat him down and did his make-up. When dinner time rolled around, she even managed to convince him to ignore whatever you had prepared for the two of them, and instead order pizza.

“This is mommy’s favorite.” She pointed one of her little fingers at the menu before pointing to the one you always ordered for her. He rang in the order and grabbed the money from his wallet, preparing it by the door. The food arrived sooner than later, and Simon sat down in the living room, your daughter right beside him, while they watched ‘Frozen’. Simon even sang along, much to your daughter’s enjoyment.

All too soon, you walked through the door, apologizing for taking longer than you had planned, but when you entered the living room, you stopped, a grin forming on your face. Simon, makeup still on his face, was lying on your couch, your daughter almost asleep on his chest as she was muttering things. The moment Simon noticed you, he smiled and carefully waved to you, not wanting to disturb your daughter. You walked closer, crouching down next to the pair, trying to hear what she was saying.

She looked up at Simon, her eyes drooping shut, but she fought against sleep with everything she had. “You’re beautiful and capable of great things.” She paused to take a little breath. “Like murder.” Your eyes widened, as did Simon’s. Your daughter stopped talking for a moment, and you almost thought she had fallen asleep, but then she spoke up again. “Don’t do that though.” Your hand clasped down over your mouth to stifle the laughter threatening to bubble out. “Unless it’s completely necessary.” That was it. You started laughing, falling back onto your ass, as Simon’s chest started to jump up and down, showing his laughter and disturbing your daughter’s rest.

With almost closed eyes, she peered at the two of you, clearly confused. “Mommy?” You calmed yourself before answering. “Yes, baby, I’m back. Let’s get you to bed, huh?” She nodded, almost asleep again.

When you reached for her, Simon shook his head. “I got her.” Without an issue, he sat up and shifted your daughter to lie in his arms. You guided the way to her room, where Simon gently put her down before tucking her in and leaving the room. Before you left, you pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead and wished her a good night. Outside, Simon was waiting for you, and the moment you made eye contact, you burst out laughing again, reminding each other to be quiet, as you walked back down to the entrance hall.

“Thank you, Simon, I really appreciate your help.” He grinned at you, rubbing the back of his neck as the two of you stood there. “Anytime. She is a sweetheart…even if weird sometimes.” You chuckled, agreeing with a nod. Silence fell over the two of you, but you interrupted it before it could grow awkward. “Well…I’ll let you get on your way, it’s already late.” Simon nodded, stepping out of the door as you opened it. But before he could walk away, you reached up and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Thanks again. Good night, Simon.”

A/N: Some cuteness. Based on this TikTok

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

wake up and smell the ozone, guys

[ Sebek and internalized racism / Sebek and his place in the Diasomnia found family / Sebek and his capacity to love / Sebek and the love of literature ]

wake up Wake Up WAKE UP

DO YOU REALIZE WHAT'S GOING ON??? ? ? ?? ? ? ? ? ? ? BECAUSE I'LL TELL YOU, I'LL TELL YOIU WHAT 'S GOING O N

Do you remember... Lilia's farewell party????? In 7-34, he takes us aside and says this: "Then if you truly wish to repay me, would you indulge a little request of mine? There's a freshman in our dorm, Sebek Zigvolt... It's been half a year since he started here, but I have yet to see him make any friends in the freshmen class. [...] I wouldn't ask [you to be friends with him]. Just... If you notice he's ever stuck at some point during your time here... I would ask that you card soldiers give him a little nudge."

When Sebek runs over shortly after with berry juice for Lilia, Lilia invites him to toast with his fellow first years (Ortho included): "These people will be your rivals and classmates until you graduate. You should take this chance to bond with some students from other dorms."

Of course, Sebek adamantly refuses to do so at that point in the story. "While I appreciate your consideration, I haven't the slightest intention of being friendly with these shallow people. [...] I already have more than enough training partners between Silver and our fellow Diasomnia students. Feeble humans are naught by deadweight! There's no need to be chummy with them!"

We are now well into book 7's Heartslabyul update and it is only now that I realize WE'RE FULFILLING LILIA'S REQUEST FROM ALL THE WAY BACK THEN IN 7-34.

Firstly, Sebek is already having his entire worldview shaken because he is exposed to the terror hie liege, his idol, Malleus, has brought about. The person he dedicated his life to and worked so hard to better himself for is misusing his powers to force his will upon others, including his own retainers. And then Sebek is given a taste of his own medicine when he meets a younger version of his grandfather in Lilia's dream. Baur calls his own grandson "human" and acts suspiciously towards him because of Sebek's race (refusing to trust him, refusing to eat food he prepared, etc.). Sebek, who is hateful and others non-fae, is now the one receiving hate and being othered by the grandfather that he loves and admires. He is experiencing the discomfort with being the target of the behaviors that he himself engages in irl. These two events are challenging Sebek's beliefs and how he sees the world. He's being forced to recognize that Malleus isn't perfect, and how it feels to be persecuted and rejected on the basis of one's race.

Sebek is taken aback by the attitude of dream!Baur and doesn't exactly know how to react (though he continues to act in ways to try and earn his grandfather's praise). Silver has to intervene and remind Sebek that, in real life, Baur doesn't despise him and to not let this get to him--but it's clear that this experience still bothers Sebek, as he grumpily responds with the usual DONT BELITTLE ME, OF COURSE I KNOW THAT tsundere response. Many of the other events Sebek experiences in Lilia's dream also call into question the nature of racial relationships, and, at times, puts Sebek in the shoes of the one defending the partnership between humans and fae. For example, some Silver Owls demand to know why we're siding with the fae, and Sebek declares back that whether human or fae, it doesn't matter because at the end of the day, they fight against those with bad intentions.

When we finally transition into the dream hopping segment of book 7, I noticed that Sebek has very targeted interactions with specifically the first-year characters--the very same group that Lilia asked to help him out if he ever gets stuck. For example:

Sebek spends a prolonged period of time in Lilia's dream with Silver (a human he does like), Yuu, and Grim (two newcomers that he has to get adjusted to). Together with them, he unravels an unspoken about part of his country's history. It's kind of like traumabonding/j

Sebek relies on the technomantic support of Idia and especially Ortho (who helps them navigate to new dreams in combination with Silver's UM). He has to acknowledge that this is a specialty of Ignihyde and not something that he, a student of Diasomnia and a first year, could achieve on his own. It humbles Sebek and forces him to depend on others instead of trying to brute force the task by himself. He's physically INCAPABLE of doing so.

In Epel's dream, he appears very tall and muscular. However, Sebek chides Epel and recalls that, at Lilia's farewell party, Epel was praising Lilia because although Lilia has a similarly small stature, he never once failed to be at Malleus's side. Back then, Lilia had told Epel that physical prowess has nothing to do with a mage's strength. Later on, Sebek even praises Epel's style of fighting despite Epel being a first year. Moreover, Epel has a 70-80% success rate at casting his UM--which shocks Sebek, who has not yet mastered his own. Here, he is learning that humans that present as small and weak can actually be formidable fighters with skill that surpasses his own. This is notable because Sebek often pushes himself to train hard physically and mentally to be the best possible retainer and may have insecurities about being a magical late bloomer.

In Jack's dream, Sebek makes a big fuss about the injustices Diasomnia suffered back in book 2 due to Savanaclaw's nasty plot. He makes it clear that he won't forgive them even now--but then Jack says it's understandable given that his dorm members were playing so dirty. Sebek expresses surprise that "there are people like Jack" in Savanaclaw. He's acknowledging that even in a dormitory that Sebek had previously pegged as all underhanded ruffians, there are people who have a moral compass and go against the grain. After all, Jack was the whistleblower in that incident and still to this day realizes their actions were wrong. This shows Sebek that not all members belonging to a group are the same.

In Deuce's dream, Sebek and Deuce bond over books. Deuce shares happy memories that he has with a popular children's book from the Queendom, and this inspires Sebek to want to read the book irl. He also suggests that Deuce pick out or recommend a book for Yuu and Grim, which is similar to what Sebek does for his own loved ones (like Silver). Here, he is sharing his interests with a non-fae in a sort of cultural exchange.

So if that's the case... I’m anticipating an interaction between Sebek and Ace that brings this full circle in Ace’s dream 👁️ or at least before the end of book 7!! I'll be keeping my eyes peeled for that!

I know I've critiqued the pacing of book 7 a lot (particularly when it comes to the dream segments), but I find it really ironic that, of all characters, Sebek is the one with the most spread-out character arc... Lilia's and Silver's arcs were mainly crammed into Lilia's dream, we haven't seen Malleus for several tends of chapters now (so he only ends up being present in the beginning and end of the book), and then you have Sebek pacing himself in this marathon 🤡 even though Sebek is also the one in Diasomnia that's the most in a rush to "grow up" and "be better" (so much so that even his UM is associated with wanting to quickly rush to someone and/or to be immediately stronger).

[byunpum]

Mama's Boy | Part 5

Pair: Jake x neytiri x human reader (trio couple) x sully children's

Warning: cozy moments, conflict, family problems

Note: I hope you like this part, the next one is gonna be the final part...Thank you sooo much!! btw I recently opened a KO-Fi…. if you want to leave any tips or support I would appreciate it (it would help me to buy real coffee xD).

AVATAR MASTERLIST | Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6(final)

The previous day's argument was very intense. Leaving the family in a very delicate state. Even you decided to sleep alone in a kind of bed you made. You were so upset with jake, you couldn't understand why he was like that with lo'ak. Sometimes you thought Jake was ashamed of lo'ak…ashamed that you were his mother. You had been sitting quietly in the marui all day, still feeling a little bad. You were taking care of tuk, the girl was by your side. Making a necklace for you, while she was telling you everything she did in the morning. "Love be careful…you can hurt yourself" you help tuk with the needle she was using. At that, you can see how jake enters the marui, he had a basket full of fish. Looking quickly at you, walking towards where he used to leave the food that had to be prepared. You decide to ignore him, and be playful with tuk.

"baby…can we talk?" asks jake, the man had approached you, sitting down next to you. You on the other hand were acting like he wasn't there. You look up, and sigh loudly. "Tuk honey, why don't you let mommy and daddy talk alone" you help the girl pick up her materials, and wait for her to come out of the marui doing some jumping jacks. You smile a little to see how happy tuk was, oblivious to what was going on. "Tell me?" you speak, looking at jake waiting for him to start talking. "Is it true that you are thinking of leaving? "jake looks at you, you could tell he was worried. It was too dangerous for you to go back to the jungle. The RDA was looking for Jake, and when Jake's name was on the line his whole family was involved. The months you had to be alone, you never left the lab.

"I see neytiri told you everything" you say, trying not to make eye contact with him. "Love…we can fix this" Jake touches your hand, but you push him away. "Jake it's not with me that you have to fix things, it's with your son. Your behavior towards him…it's terrible." You speak, trying to hold back your tears. "Y/n you're misunderstanding things I" jake speaks, but is interrupted when you turn around and are now looking directly at him. "Jake… I have a question for you, what does neteyam like the most?" you ask. "A-ahh he likes hunting, he likes to ride his ikran. He's also a great talker," says jake.

"Okay, now tell me what lo'ak likes?" you speak up, knowing jake wouldn't answer quickly like the other question. Jake gets nervous, looking around for a moment. "He likes…he likes being with his brother. " jake speaks timidly, watching as your eyebrows draw together in anger. "Lo'ak likes to ride around and investigate things. He loves to practice with his bow, he likes to spend time with his sister kiri and all he looks forward to is his father telling him he did a great job" you were already very annoyed.

"I know…" jake speaks softly. Shaking his head, look embarrassed. "Jake your sons are not soldiers…they are children. Children who need love and attention from their father. Neteyam is not the only one here who needs to be trained. Lo'ak too, he needs you to treat him with respect and love. What does it cost you to do that?" you speak, watching as jake pulled his knees up to his chest. Becoming more like a little ball. "I just…want them to be strong and …. I'm afraid they'll be weak and won't be able to survive this chaos we live in" jake tries to explain. And yes, he was a little bit right. But that didn't justify the preference he had over neteyam. "Jake, I know all that" you wave your hands all around you. "This is all chaos, I know this isn't our home. I know what we're going through, but what does lo'ak have to do with it? Why can't you treat him like you treat kiri or neteyam or tuk? What did he do to you?" you speak, getting up from the floor. You had to walk, because the rage was consuming you. You hated it when jake tried to avoid trouble. Telling you smith answers to distract you. "He didn't do anything" jake follows you with his eyes.

"I feel like sometimes you just treat him like that, because he came from me. Because he's not completely na'vi." You had tears in your eyes, you didn't know why you were so sentimental. Even though this situation always broke your heart, you wanted lo'ak to feel loved. "Y/n never say that… this has nothing to do with you being his mother" jake in one swift movement. He takes your arm, to pull you closer to him. "I wouldn't ask for another mother for my son, you are an excellent mother" jake lets his head lay on your chest. He is silent for a moment, you didn't want to keep arguing with him. You loved your family, you loved jake, you hated being upset with him. "Lo'ak is how I was…he is so much like the stupid jake who betrayed and endangered people he cared about. That stupid jake got innocent people killed" jake speaks, you knew he was talking about grace. She had been so important to you.

You take jake's face in your hands, pulling his face up so he could look you in the eye. "But that stupid jake was the one who saved a whole clan, that stupid jake is strong and brave. That stupid jake was the one I fell in love with" you speak softly. Tears streamed down Jake's cheeks. "I want you to be the person that stupid Jake needed, for lo'ak. He needs you…" you speak, feeling jake hug you. You both stand there for a moment. "I don't want him to make mistakes that he'll regret later," jake says. "He'll get in trouble if you don't help…try to be a better parent to him. That's all I ask of you" you start walking away from jake. Picking up some things tuk had left on the ground, you go to look for the girl.

"Do you think you would have been happy if instead of me, tom was the one in this body?" jake asks you. You knew this was tormenting Jake. You had been tom's girlfriend just before he went to earth. And there he was murdered. When jake came to the RDA and took tom's place. For you it was a big shock, Jake was just like your ex-boyfriend, but so different at the same time. You had to admit that Jake was the only thing that kept you sane those months. Not to mention the relationship that formed between the two of you. Jake allowed you to see neytiri again and get closer to the clan. Jake could be a fool, but the fool you liked the most. The rest is history.

You turn around before leaving the marui, tears in your eyes. "Believe it or not, I am very happy…but I wish your insecurities didn't affect this family" you speak, walking out of the marui leaving jake alone with his thoughts. You liked that Jake opened up to you, but you would like to see him try to improve his relationship with his children. Because it wasn't just lo'ak, neteyam was also affected by jake's treatment. You pause for a moment, taking a deep breath and wiping away your tears. You calm down a bit, and start looking for tuk. Luckily for you, the girl wasn't far away. She was sitting with neteyam playing.

You approach the children, see how they look at you and their eyes light up. "Hello" you greet them, sitting down next to tuk. "Look my love, you forgot these things" you hand the things to tuk. The little girl thanks you, she didn't dare to come back for them. "Thank you mommy" tuk says, now sitting on your lap. You can feel neteyam's eyes glued to you, he knew things were not good between his parents. The news that you were likely to leave had destroyed him. Neteyam could be strong, and always be by Jake and Neytiri's side. But you were his refuge, where he could go and be a child again. If he was to be judged for a second. "Mom?" neteyam speaks to you, you look at him quickly. "Mmm?" you are helping tuk, when you feel neteyam sit down next to you. "Is it true that you are going to go and leave us?" neteyam speaks waiting for you to answer. "Mom? You are going to leave us?" yells tuk. You sigh, you had gone through a pretty strong disappointment a few minutes ago and you wanted to control yourself.

"Where did you hear that neteyam?" you look at the boy, you thought you had argued in private, but you guess your screams were too loud. "We heard it by accident, I promise" neteyam gets nervous, but you hold his hand to calm him down. "mom if you go…can I come with you?" neteyam was getting sentimental, you caress his face a little. Laughing a little and tapping your arms to give him support. "I'm not going anywhere…but if I did. Of course you can go with me." You speak, watching as neteyam pouts. You joke a little, in order to change the topic. You didn't like them getting involved in adult issues, you knew they had been through a lot. At such a young age.

It wasn't long before you started to feel a little dizzy. You tried to hold your child tighter in your lap, but you felt like you were about to throw up. Never having felt like this before. You push tuk a little so that the girl slips out of your lap, placing your hands on your stomach, you were in a lot of pain. Neteyam noticed this, and quickly began to help you. "What's wrong mom?" neteyam holds your shoulders. The vomiting was something you couldn't help, and you swore you were emptying yourself alive. neteyam held you so you wouldn't mess yourself up. "Mom!" the boy whines, he has never seen you like this before. It was so strong that as soon as you recover, your sight goes blank.

You start to get up, you could hear some voices around you. You didn't open your eyes yet, but you could distinguish them. One was from neytiri, and the other was from ronal. You could feel some warm things on your body, and some parts were wet. You start to become conscious, opening your eyes a little at a time. "Ma Y/n!!!" neytiri sounded so happy, she had a nice smile on her face. On the other hand, ronal was moving away from your body. You could tell she looked exhausted. "What happened?" you try to get up, but you barely had any strength. "You fainted again and neteyam warned us" neytiri explains, stroking your hair. Something seemed curious about neytiri, she was supposed to be worried and she looked so happy. "You are sick…you need to rest and take medicine" said Ronal, the woman was already looking in some containers for the herbs to prepare the medicine you had to take. The more you woke up you realized that you were in the marui that Ronal used to take care of the sick na'vi. "And the children?" you look weakly at neytiri. "They are with Jake, don't worry," Neytiri speaks, settling in closer to your side.

You rest a little, but you feel how Ronal starts to remove the towels that were warm before. Drying your exposed skin a bit. He had been using compresses and hot towels to try to get you up. "The medicine is a little strong, but it won't hurt the baby," says Ronal, holding out a jar of carracol. Your eyes widen in surprise, what the hell was this woman talking about, pregnant? This woman is crazy. "Baby? No, I'm not pregnant" you speak, now you had recovered all your strength. You were surprised. You look at neytiri, but she had a look that was worrying you. "ney" you push her a little, you needed her to speak. "Y/N I thought you are…since the symptoms" neytiri can't contain her joy. "Plus we did an abdominal test and we could feel something" ronal looks at you, handing you the drink. You are confused, and now you were about to vomit at the news. How could that be possible, you were sure you weren't pregnant.

Hey, you and Jake had been together. Well…ever since you had joined the clan. You two hadn't kept your hands off each other. Well… the three of you. You were sure neytiri knew you weren't pregnant. The idea of having a baby doesn't enter your head, not now that the atmosphere is so tense. You take the drink, you notice how Ronal is watching you. Making sure you take all the medicine. "Ahh it's disgusting" you complain. Listening to neytiri laugh, you liked seeing her like that. It's been a long time since you've seen her this happy, it was genuine happiness. "Well…I'll let you rest here. I'll come by later and check on you" ronal gets up from the floor, and walks out of the marui. Leaving you and neytiri alone. You were exhausted, but you can feel neytiri touch your stomach. Causing you to look at her with surprise. "We will have another baby ma y/n" neytiri smiles. "But when?" you had many questions, when you found out you were pregnant with lo'ak it was because norm did a test on you. But now it had been a natural test that na'vi women did to find out if they were pregnant. "I think it was the day at the beach" neytir laughs a little, blushing. You start to remember and you want to curl into a ball. You were scared, really scared.

"Hey, don't be scared. I'll be right here with you. And we've been looking for this for so many years," says Neytiri. And she was right, it got to the stage where the pregnancies were more about the two of you. They were very intimate between you and Neytiri. You wanted to be in on the whole process, including the excitement of being pregnant. It would build on the bonds that would be formed with the children. "I know…but this news is very unexpected…and even more so now that I want to kill Jake," you say. ""You haven't talked?"" asks neytiri, she wanted this to be resolved. "Ney…I need him to be a better father to lo'ak and you know I'm right" you speak. Neytiri is thoughtful for a moment, she knew you were right, and she would support you in whatever decision you make. And even more so at this moment. "Well, I'm going to let you rest. Ronal said he would come later. I'll come later." neytiri wanted to break the news to everyone in the family. A baby was big news for her, and she knew everyone would be happy. Giving you a soft kiss, and another on the palms of her hands. You swear you saw Neytiri jump a little in happiness, her tail wagging from side to side and the smile on her face was beautiful. You lay back on the comfortable bed and closed your eyes. You had to rest, otherwise you were going to die of madness.

"Ok, but you have to cut it like this" jake was with lo'ak. The man had decided to go looking for his son after the argument he had with you. Inviting him to go fishing, obviously this was a strange thing for lo'ak to do. But spending the afternoon with his father was making him very happy. Lo'ak was cleaning the fish as jake told him to, looking carefully at the instructions. "And what do I do with this?" lo'ak points with disgust, at the fish's stomach. "Remove it…that's disgusting" jake mimics lo'ak's wince as they both laughed. It was a very nice moment for both of them, jake had to admit that he had missed a lot of moments with lo'ak. While lo'ak and jake were busy, kiri, neteyam and tuk were sitting somewhere in the corner of the marui talking and playing with each other. When they noticed how their mother came in with a happiness. "I have good news," said neytiri.

"How is mom!!!" lo'ak gets up quickly, running to neytiri. "she's fine…but" neytiri pauses, walking over to jake to sit next to him. "What's wrong, she's supposed to just be sick at her stomach" jake says. The last he heard from you, neteyam had taken you to see ronal. And that you had a lot of stomach pain. "It's not a bad thing…come here everybody, come on!" neytiri makes the signal for everyone in the family to come over. Everyone sits around, neytiri looked so excited. "This is so big for this family… Y/N is expecting a baby" neytiri sounds the news, jake gets so excited he hugs neytiri right away. "No way!!!" shouts kiri hugging tuk and the little girl was already very excited. "Another sully to the family" says neteyam, excited. But apparently the news had not gone down well with everyone, "WHAT?" Lo'ak literally screams, capturing her parents' attention. "Lo'ak what's wrong?" neytiri is now confused, this is supposed to be a big surprise.

"Why is mom going to have a baby? She can't have one!!!" Lo'ak was getting a little upset. This was a jealous reaction, and neytiri and jake could tell. "hey lo'ak I need you to calm down" jake tries to calm him down. But the boy stands up in annoyance, getting out of the marui. "Lo'ak needs to stop having tantrums, he's too old to be having these dramas" kiri says. Neytiri taps her knee, kiri complains. Everyone in the family knows how lo'ak was with you, everything that had to do with you affected lo'ak twice as much. Jake was about to get up and go talk to the boy. But he feels neteyam's hand stop him. "Dad…I'll talk to him" says neteyam. Jake looks quickly at neytiri, who signals him to let his brother go get him. Neteyam gets up from the ground and leaves the marui to look for his brother. It doesn't take him long to find him, he was relatively close. Lo'ak was sitting in the sand, he could tell he was crying.

"Little brother…you're jealous" says neteyam. Listening as lo'ak whined. "What do you want you idiot!!!" lo'ak grudgingly replies to neteyam. But neteyam ignores him, laughing and sitting down next to him. "I know you must be feeling jealous," says neteyam. Lo'ak rolls his eyes in white. He didn't want to be messing around with neteyam, sometimes he could be very annoying. "You know…when you were born I felt a little jealous, but when tuk was born I must admit I couldn't help but feel very jealous. Our moms were with her all the time and didn't pay attention to us. " said neteyam. "Yes, but my mom has always paid attention to me" lo'ak says sounding a bit smug. Neteyam laughs, he had to admit that his little brother looked adorable. "And she's always going to love you, I'm the big brother. And having to share everything…but the love mama has for you is special and no one will ever change it," Neteyam speaks. Lo'ak is silent, neteyam stands up and taps his brother on the shoulder. Stepping away to let him think for a moment.

That same afternoon…

You were already up, and it was getting dark. You had to admit that you were pretty bored. Ronal was taking longer than usual. You wanted to be home, you felt a little better. And now that you knew you were sick and the pregnancy symptoms were making it worse, you felt somewhat reassured. Although the news of your pregnancy was not something you were very happy about. Sure, you were happy to have a baby. You had waited for this opportunity for so long, but it had to happen right now. Just now when the situation with lo'ak was very active.

You were so wrapped up in your own thoughts, that you didn't notice when Ronal entered the marui. The woman can see that you were a bit lost. "The news of the baby surprises you, doesn't it? Because it does to me," says Ronal, putting some things she brought to refill. You look at her a little startled, and became a little alert at the tone of Ronal's voice. You weren't friends, and ronal tolerated you and treated you well because tonowari told her to. "Yes…it's a surprise," you say. Trying not to sound awkward. "It seems kind of unreal to me…that one" Ronal scans you up and down. "Human is pregnant, I have doubts even with your supposed child" ronal speaks, she could be quite direct. She didn't mind hurting other people's feelings. "Excuse me?" you get more comfortable in your bed. "Don't take this the wrong way…but it's weird" ronal chuckles a little. You decide to ignore her, you didn't want to argue because you still felt a little bad.

Ronal prepared more medicine for you to take in the next few days. Supposedly some food had made you sick. After several days you are supposed to be left with only the symptoms of pregnancy. She might be a little mean, but she wouldn't hurt you. You get up carefully, leaving Marui. Ronal all this time had been making uncalled for comments about you and your child. But at no time did you want to answer him, you didn't want to cause trouble. "Hey by the way" Ronal starts talking. You stop, and look back.

"I heard you wanted to go back to the jungle…and you know what" Ronal laughs again to herself. You didn't understand what you had done to this woman, but she seemed to hate you. "I think it would be best for your family. Even for that child…lo'ak. When you weren't here, we barely heard the sully. And as far as I can see all you've done is mess everything up around here," Ronal says, turning to continue working. You sigh, you weren't going to give her the pleasure of her seeing you cry, getting out of that marui as fast as you could. Back to the familiar marui, you couldn't help but get Ronal's words out of your head, maybe she was right. Maybe they were better off without you. And now you had one more problem.

P.s The reason I wrote that the reader was pregnant is that the original request asked for two children. Lo'ak and the baby on the way. Second, the reader is still upset with jake, but I wanted to fix things up a bit. Because I want it to focus more on the relationship between lo'ak and his mom.

Tag: @baybaybear1@hoodiepandaninja16@teyyyteyyy@anika-rose-walker@victoria2054@raviolisblog@jessi-dan@neteyams-wh0re@jimfiqs@bitchykittenconnoisseur@chershire23@holynightnacho@danilezilla@thepotatoislost @esposadomd @ratchetprime211 @juneonhoth

[call-of-daydreams]

Back Story- Price decides that his team, Ghost, Soap and Gaz need a much needed home cooked meal. And who better to cook it than his own missus. Plus with you cooking he knows for sure his men will eat all the food, after all they don't want to see the disappointed look on your face.

Cw: Fluff, "Family" Gathering

Price looked at his wife Y/n, a smile on his face. "Love, I was thinking... this Christmas, I'd like to invite the team to come over for a home-cooked meal. Would that be alright with you?"

You smiled back at him, clearly pleased by the idea. "Of course, dear. I'd love to have them over for Christmas it'll be nice to have some company other than just us."

Price nodded, relieved that you were on board with the idea. "Excellent, I'll let them know. I'm sure they'll appreciate a warm home-cooked meal and some good company on Christmas day."

You nodded "I'll start planning the menu, it'll be nice to cook for a couple extra people this year. Do you know what they like to eat?"

Price chuckled, shaking his head. "I doubt they care. They're just a bunch of hungry soldiers who'll eat anything i put infront of them."

You laughed, imagining the men eagerly devouring whatever food you put on the table. "Well, I'll make sure I cook enough food for a small army then."

Price grinned, obviously amused by the thought. "They'll appreciate that. They'll probably be asking for seconds before they even finish their first plate."

You chuckled, thinking about the men asking for more even with a full plate. "Well, I'll make sure we have plenty extras just incase. And maybe some extra deserts aswell."

Price nodded, clearly looking forward to the Christmas dinner. "That sounds perfect. I'm sure the team will appreciate your cooking, love. And I know I will as well."

~~Christmas day~~

Christmas day had finally arrived, and you were in the kitchen busily preparing the big dinner for the teams dinner. The house smelled like a mix of delicious spices and holiday treats as you finished up the last few dishes in the kitchen while singing along to Christmas music.

After a long couple of hours of cooking, you were finally done. The table was finally set with all kinds of homemade dishes, and the house felt warm and inviting. Price helped put the finishing touches on everything when he heard a knock on the door.

Price smiled at you as he went to answer the door. He opened it to find Ghost, Soap, and Gaz standing on the other side, all wearing smiles and holding gifts in their hands.

"Come on in, lads," Price said, stepping back to let them enter. The men all came into the house, looking around and taking in the festive decorations.

"Wow, the house looks amazing," Soap said, looking around at the Christmas decorations. Gaz and Ghost nodded in agreement, clearly both impressed by your handiwork.

You came out of the kitchen to greet them, a big smile on your face. "I'm so glad you could all make it. Merry Christmas, everyone."

The men all greeted her back, wishing you a Merry Christmas as well. They handed her the gifts they'd brought, each one wrapped neatly and tied with a bow.

You thank them for the gifts, setting them under the Christmas tree in the corner of the room. "Please, make yourselves comfortable. The food is just about ready to be served."

The men all found seats around the dining table, with Ghost sitting on one end and Soap and Gaz sitting on either side of him. Price took a seat next to you, a small twinge of nervousness in his stomach.

You, noticing your husband's slight anxiety, placed a reassuring hand on his arm. "Relax, darling. Everything will be fine."

Price nodded and taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "I know, love. I just want everything to go smoothly, that's all."

"You said yourself that these men will eat practically anything."

Price chuckled, his nerves starting to ease a bit. "You're right, you're right. They're basically human garbage disposals, they'll eat almost anything put infront of them."

Gaz and Soap mock-gasped at his comment. "Oi, we're not that bad!" Gaz said, feigning offense.

Price just laughed "Oh please, I've seen you two eat. You'll eat anything that's not nailed down."

Gaz and Soap both shrugged, not denying the accusation. Soap chimed in with a grin. "We just have a good appetite, that's all."

"It's because the Army starves you all, eat. I made it all for you guys."

Soap and Gaz both nodded, their eyes roaming over the spread of homemade food on the table. "We don't need to be told twice, Mrs. Price," Gaz said with a grin. "We'll gladly eat it all for you."

"What about you Ghost? What would you like to be passed to you?" You say with a slight jester to the food on the table.

Ghost looked over the food on the table, his eyes scanning the various dishes. "I'll take a bit of everything, love," he said, a small smile on his lips. "It all looks delicious."

Y/n chuckled, feeling emboldened by his response. "Everything, huh? You have quite the appetite, Ghost."

Ghost shrugged, unashamed of his hunger. "What can I say? I'm a man who knows what he likes."

"Well what are we waiting for, start passing food around. I mainly just want ham and sausage balls but you are all welcome to anything on the table."

The men all smiled at her words, clearly eager to dig in. "You don't have to tell us twice," Soap said, already reaching for the serving platter of ham on the table.

Gaz quickly followed suit, grabbing the platter of sausage balls she'd mentioned. "These look amazing," he said, sniffing at the food appreciatively.

Ghost nodded in agreement, his eyes roaming over the rest of the table. "Everything looks fantastic," he said, his voice low and rough. "You've outdone yourself, Y/n."

Y/n smiled at Ghost's compliment, feeling a sense of pride in her cooking. "I'm glad you all like it. Please, dig in."

The men didn't need any more invitation. They immediately started passing dishes around the table, loading up their plates with a bit of everything.

The room was filled with the sounds of forks and knives clinking against plates, as well as the occasional appreciative moan or sigh of pleasure.

"This is incredible," Soap said, his mouth full of food. "You really are an amazing cook, Y/n."

Gaz nodded in agreement, his fork already spearing another sausage ball. "Agreed. I don't think I've ever had a Christmas meal this good."

Ghost, as usual, said nothing, focused on eating as much as he could. But his face was a clear indication of his enjoyment, his expression one of pure bliss as he savored each bite.

Price sat back in his chair, watching the men devour his wife's cooking with a mixture of pride and amusement. "You see, love? I told you they'd eat everything you put in front of them."

"And you were nervous."

Price chuckled, a trace of embarrassment in his voice. "Yeah, maybe I was a bit worried they wouldn't like your cooking. But I should have known better. You're an amazing cook, after all."

"You eat too, love"

"Of course," Price said, grabbing a plate and starting to load it up with food. He glanced over at the men, all of whom were already on their second or third helpings. "You boys better slow down, or you'll eat us out of house and home."

"Their fine, I made extra"

"Looks like we've got our own personal eating team here," Soap teased between bites. "We can clear a buffet like nobody's business."

Gaz chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Damn right. Give us a challenge and we'll win it. You won't see a single crumb left on these plates."

Ghost just grunted in agreement, his mouth too full to speak. But the fact that he was already on his third helping spoke volumes

The dinner continued on, the men continuing to devour the food as fast as they could. They all praised Y/n's cooking, and even Ghost managed to mutter a compliment or two.

Price sat back in his chair, watching the display with a mixture of amusement and pride. He'd never seen his team eat so much, but he couldn't blame them. His wife's cooking was truly incredible.

As the meal came to an end, Y/n couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. She smiled, knowing that she had managed to feed and please a group of hungry soldiers.

[aphroditelovesu]

Yandere husband Genghis Khan

❝ 📜 — lady l: I hope you like! I hadn't written to him yet, but I confess that I liked it! Good reading and forgive me for any mistakes!❤️

❝tw: dub-con, mention of massacre and destruction, possessive and violent behavior, implied torture.

❝📜pairing: yandere!genghis khan x female!reader.

Genghis Khan set his eyes on you after you became a concubine, one of his many that he possessed. After invading your city and looting and massacring the inhabitants, you were given to him as spoils of war. A concubine and nothing more.

When you were summoned to his tent, you were scared to death. Terrified of what he could do to you. You had already seen what the other soldiers had done to the captives women and you were shaking in terror at the thought of suffering the same.

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest when you walked in and found him waiting for you, wearing light clothes and drinking. You took a deep breath and walked towards the conqueror of your city. He looked at you briefly and you knew what you had to do.

To your surprise, Genghis wasn't rude or forced you, he was quite calm and gentle. A word you never thought you could use referring to him, aiming at the reputation he maintained. That said, you started to like him more, to like the nights you spent together more and more.

You were called by him every night and not every night was about the pleasures of the flesh, but because he enjoyed your company. You also started to like him, he wasn't that bad, at least not to you.

He soon decided that he wanted to marry you, to transform you from a concubine to his wife. You were surprised when he told you this news, but you didn't reject the idea. Being his wife would bring you more benefits than being his concubine and soon the preparations began.

The wedding was celebrated in typical Mongolian style and you were welcomed by soldiers and people important to him. Even his main wife, Börte, congratulated you and she seemed genuine. Genghis Khan appreciated this fact immensely, he could always benefit from it later.

You were treated with all the perks he could give you, jewelry, food, clothes made of the purest silk, anything you wanted he would have no problem getting. If you asked him to, he would destroy an entire tribe or city just for you.

You held a lot of power over him, especially when you got pregnant with your first child. Genghis was especially happy about this and you spent the whole night making love after this news. He was falling more in love with you every day.

He was quite possessive, however, and that was obvious to you. He once had one of his own subordinates tortured for daring to lust after you. You would never forget the screams that night or the bloody way your husband had appeared to you.

Genghis cares and cares for you in his own way and often resorts to violence to do so. He wasn't a conqueror without a reason, there was a murderous fury inside him that many knew. It soon became very clear to everyone who they must protect at all costs. You kept him in check.

He might have other concubines and wives, but he always came back to you in the end. In your arms, he had found a comfort he didn't know he needed until he got it. Genghis could kill anyone who looked at you the wrong way, but it was because he loved you.

You may not be his first wife, but you are definitely his favorite.

[valsverse]

WOUNDS — jason grace x gn!reader

ⓘ word count [649] | masterlist

it's late at night, the moon casting its gentle glow through your window, illuminating the figure of jason standing between your legs, his head nestled in your hands. you carefully tend to the scratches and cuts on his face as he subconsciously leans into your touch. despite the smell of alcohol pads in the air and the sight of blood on his shirt, he can't help but admire how beautiful you look in the light of the moon.

as you cradle his face, your fingers intertwined in his hair and absentmindedly stroking it, jason feels almost overwhelmed by the amount of tenderness you're showing him. it had been a long time since he'd experienced such love and he didn't think he deserved it. growing up, he was always expected to stay in his place, to follow tradition and never stray from the path that had been set for him. he was raised to do extraordinary things, but in doing so, his childhood was taken away from him, and he was forced to become a child soldier, a mere pawn in someone else's game.

but then you came into his life, and with your infectious smile that he he would do anything for, you brought with you a sense of hope that he had never felt before. for the first time in his life, someone saw him for who he truly was, not just the persona that he had been forced to project. jason wishes he could be even half the person that you were, and to him, you were truly like an angel sent from above, shattering the rigid cast that had been forced upon him. he could finally be himself. for the first time, he could look around and see the people who truly cherished him for who he was, not just for the image that he projected. with you, he felt free. cherished. loved.

jason wants to learn how to love like you. he sees it in the way you gently wipe down his glasses or prepare a plate of food for him when he forgets to eat breakfast. the way you surprise him with little trinkets and knick-knacks that overcrowd his shelves tremendously. jason is constantly in awe of your love for him and longs to reciprocate it in the same way. whenever you express your affection for him, whether it be through the little kisses you leave on the side of his neck or your soft declarations of 'i love yous' whispered in the stillness of the night as you're nestled into his strong arms, it fills him with a euphoria that he can hardly put into words. maybe if jason loved you any less, he'd be able to talk about it more.

but now, even in the dead of the night when he wants nothing more than to rest and hold you in his embrace, jason's thoughts are still consumed by you and how grateful he is for your presence. to him, you embody all the beauty and wonder of the world, and no one else could even come close.

suddenly, your gentle voice snaps him out of his thoughts. he looks up to see your smiling face, and the sight brings a small smile to his own.

"all done," you say, packing up the med-kit, and he nods in thanks, reaching up to feel the bumps of bandages that cover his face, a reminder of the accident that brought him here. he gives you yet another smile of appreciation, and, without missing a beat, you bring his face in for a tender kiss, peppering his bandaged face with sweet pecks.

the air is electric with anticipation and excitement as you both lean in for a soft kiss, his hand gently cupping your cheek, silently whispering "i love you." it's the kind of kiss that fills his heart with joy and warmth, and jason wouldn't trade it for anything else in the world.

[sheepispink]

Food to feed the heart ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི relationships: simon riley x baker!reader

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི A/N: ello cuties i know i havent posted anything so take this before i post the next chapter (likely this weekend) because i also have exams next week which also means no chapter.. 😔

Part 1 | Prev | Next

A few days have passed since he had driven you back home from the farm, and you���re still a little flustered that you had fallen asleep so easily. It was embarrassing but thankfully he wasn't the one to wake you up; you’d probably pass out again if you opened your eyes to his skull mask in your face—no offense to him, of course. The truck jostled as he unpacked the car to take out all the fresh produce, clearly having no intentions of making you help. He handled it all with ease, feeling more like carrying a shopping bag than the heavy glass bottles of milk. “Simon?” Your voice has mumbled out sleepily, dragging your tired self around the side of the truck to watch as he lifted each crate. He had gone completely still at your words though, something shifting behind his eyes that were usually quite sharp, though it doesn't seem to be uncomfortable. That look alone flustered you and you immediately got to work despite his protests, hurrying to pack all the produce away.

You’ve long since closed the shop now, but you were preparing some dough as per usual. It was all you ever seemed to do these days, and even if more people were appreciating your bakes, you find yourself desperate for a new invention. Or well, at least somekind of new product in the shop. Somehow, your mind drifts back to your old train of thought that other day, what Simon would eat for lunch. You think he’d like something rich with flavour, considering how dry military food would be, but not spice—it doesn't look like he could handle that much anyway. Savoury seems to be his preference, even if he has tried a few of your sweeter options before. Don’t soldiers need lots of protein and carbs too? At least that’s what everyone says about building muscle, so you mentally jot those points down too. Your stomach rumbles as you see a notification from a cooking channel you follow, instantly clicking on it to see the thumbnail that is the most delicious tacos with their seasoned meat and vegetables. The video even showed pulled chicken tacos, but that’d seemed to be too messy for him to eat on the job— definitely a note for another day.

You hum as you lean against the counter, looking at the bread dough in the bowl before you. Pulled chicken sounded damn good especially for protein, you have bread already, and shredded vegetables would be easy to get…you're going to make the best damn meal he’ll have in his life.

——————————————————————

Sweat trickles down his back and soaks his shirt as he pants quietly, breaths eventually slowing down from his early morning run. The air is crisp, almost biting with how cold it is as December deepens. He doesn't particularly like how much his thoughts have shifted these days, always thinking about his next visit to his bakery rather than the rest of his schedule for the day. Damnit, just the mere sight of a teacup makes him think of your grin when you hand one to him. He’s convinced he’s starting to go insane.

The locker rooms are quiet at this time, and so he pulls off his top in one smooth motion before throwing in his laundry bag that he’ll handle later. His muscles flex as he stretches them a little, fishing out a fresh vest and shirt when his phone buzzes in his duffel bag. That’s unusual, no one really bothered texting him apart from his phone service provider or occasionally an app notification. Even Soap preferred to just hunt down the Lieutenant himself, knowing he barely ever checked his phone. But he does now, because now he’s got someone who has his number, and who actually wants to text him too. Your name and the silly picture you took on his phone flash up, and for once his thumb fumbles when he types his password in.

“Is there any chance i could potentially leave something for you at like.. a military gate.. post.. thing? You forgot something in the shop!”

He raises a brow at the message, knowing damn well he’s never been reckless enough to forget something that would be important as to be delivered to him at this time. If it really was something, surely it could wait until he inevitably saw you next week. At least, that’s what his rationale is telling him. He shouldn't breach work hours and go off and let you into the base, no he should just tell you that it isnt possible and he’ll handle it himself. He’d be damned if he ever let you drive your truck up here, carrying one of his things and delivering it to him personally. What if someone saw you? What if another soldier talked to you and you realised they’re the one you want to stay friends with and not him?”

At that he slams the locker door closed, letting out a deep breath and ignoring the way his face heats. It’s just because of the run, just because of the way his mask clings to his face. It’s really hot in here, yeah that’s it. This -2° air is boiling.

It’s almost lunch time now, and he walks down to the admin area where an intern, who is usually tasked with the mundane tasks like these, tells him there’s a girl waiting for him at the gate. He just gruffly nods, hands stuck in his pockets as he steps out of the building and where you stand on the other side of the barrier, awkwardly waiting with a little paper bag. He’s glad you’re wrapped up, a thick scarf practically engulfing your face and a wooly hat covering the hair he loves the look of. “Miss Lost and Found, is that your name now?” He hums, stepping towards you and you almost jump, not used to the physical skull mask he wears on base and rather the more tame chalk one. But his voice resonates instantly and you grin, tugging down your scarf to your chin. “I may have lied. I came bearing a delivery.”

Well he hadn't expected you to straight up lie to get your way, but he supposes it must be a good cause and so he takes the bag when you offer it to him, though not without taking your wrist too. “C’mon, let's get you warmed up inside.”

You’re not sure if you stick out like a sore thumb because of the thick jacket you wear compared to the camos sported around here, or due to the Lieutenant’s grip around your hand as he tugs you along. It must be a mix of both, assuming from the way the other soldiers look at Ghost and then you before scurrying off quickly. He eventually seats you opposite him in an office, letting you sit on the couch as he settles on the armchair. Though.. this office does not match him in the slightest. “Captain’s office, not mine.”

He hums, digging out the container out of the paperbag with curiosity along with a warm flask. “You didn't..” He grunts, eye flickering down at the food and then up to you, not quite sure just yet if the little lunchbox you brang is something he had somehow left behind in another life or you really had brought him lunch while he was working.

“I did. I wanted to thank you for all your help the other day” You grin, and he pulls off the lid, instantly caught in the delicious smell inside. Two large chicken stuffed buns right beside each other, practically still hot considering you cooked them this morning. Beneath is veggie sticks, ones you’d usually give to little kids, layered over seasoned rice in case he wasn't full on the buns already. And of course, would it really be you if you didn't give him a dessert? Of course, nothing too sweet, in fact you even went out of your way to make another off menu item for him… oops.

“Banana bread? Do you note down everything I say?” He likes the way your smile grows wider when he notices your efforts, taking care to remember that for later too. Though, he really is surprised you were paying that much attention to him. “You know I'm gonna devour this, righ’?”

Though you’re quickly cut off when the door bangs open, a noise common around here but not exactly for you since you unintentionally jump. It doesn't go unnoticed by Simon though, whose hand shoots out to protect before realising you had only jumped at the door and nothing actually serious. His hand says awkwardly hovering before you before he just picks some lint of your shoulder, quickly turning to the door instead. Is he going crazy or what? The cause of the noise was a bulky man who had almost as much muscle as the man in front of you, only shorter than him and the muscle was more evenly distributed.

“Lt, the fuckin’ rookies are at it again! This new batch are always fighting eachother!” He exclaims, walking over to the desk in the office to snatch a cookie out of a jar that easily blends into the rest of the furniture around. You stare at him as he bites into it, the crumbs falling onto his tactical gear before his head lifts to meet Simon’s, only to see you right in front of him. He raises a single brow at you, then chomps on a cookie a little more.

“Oh, is this one of ‘em? Lass doesn't even look terrified, have ye lost yer touch mate?” Ghost grunts as the man jests, and shakes his head before trying to move the lunchbox out of the man’s sight. “She’s not a soldier, Johnny.”

“Not a soldier eh? So.. CIA? One of Laswell’s right?”

“No”

”Medic?”

“No.”

“K9 Trainer?”

“No.”

”Damnit, Lt, yer killing me!”

‘Johnny’ groans as he steps around the desk, before promptly noticing the lunchbox that Ghost had failed to completely hide behind him. Though, that left even more questions unanswered. For starters, when has Ghost ever sat with someone for lunch?

“None of ya business who she is. I’ll deal with the rookies in five, just get ‘em rounded up, Soap.” Then he turns to you, wrapping the scarf that was tossed to the side back around your neck before he pulls you up by your hands. “And you need to get back home.”

“Do I really look like I could be in the CIA?” Soap snaps his gaze to you as your head tilts, in a way that’s far too friendly, towards Ghost though he only rolls his eyes up at you and huffs out a chuckle. “You couldn't even kill a fly.”

“I didn't want fly blood on me!”

You argue and Ghost turns to see the other soldier staring, so he grunts and closes the lid onto the lunchbox. Soap had just been through a series of emotions and confusion was an aspect of all of them. Ghost had just tucked a scarf around your neck, refused to give your identity to him and he was about to walk you back to wherever you came from. For once in his life, he stays silent as his Lieutenant leads you out, a hand on your back to guide you.

——————————————————————

After he walked you back to your car and made sure you knew your way out of the complex, he had spent the next half hour dealing with those damn rookies Soap groaned about. Finally, he was free now, the little blue lunch box in front of him, and lord was he starving. As he promised, he devoured everything you made him, even taking a moment to stop and savour the burst of flavour the shredded chicken had been coated in. It was more than good, it was like the takeout they only got every so often, like the drinks he’d share with his taskforce, or even the sigh that gets let out when everyone comes back unscathed from a mission. It was comforting and warm, a promise of safety and he’d be damned if he never got to try this cooking ever again. So, he savours each bite, every drop of tea in the flask until it’s empty. He’ll scrub the container clean for you, grab you a box of chocolates even if it was meant as a thnak you. And he’d be back in that bakery, as soon as he could.

———————————————————————

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Taglist:

@hidden-treasures21 @bieberismysoulmate @gallantys @tessakate @galactict3a @krispymagazinepizza-blog

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 25, Unprotected - Pt. 4

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, medical procedures, Pocket getting called out on her shit, deep discussions, mentions of drug use and anonymous sex.

Word Count: 2.7k

Previously On...: You woke up in the hospital to some quite... surprising news.

A/N: LET THE HEALING SORT OF BEGIN! I AM READY FOR IT.

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

A few hours later, you were discharged with antibiotics to stave off any potential infection and over-the counter iron tablets to help replenish all the blood you’d lost. The car ride back to the safehouse was awkward in its heavy silence, the only words spoken between you and Bucky were when you asked to stop at the local pharmacy to buy out their stock of hydrogen peroxide. You’d need to tackle those blood stains in your bedroom before they had time to fully set.

As you walked in the door to the apartment, Bucky on your heels, you took in the space as he would be seeing it for the very first time– it was an absolute mess, with clothes strewn about, fast food wrappers and empty liquor bottles littering every available surface. You watched his eyes as they raked over the mess, pausing to linger on the empty condom wrappers your last Bad Decision had left on the coffee table, next to the remnants of the coke you two had done.

“What the fuck is this?” he asked. “Did someone break in and trash the place while you were in the hospital?”

You grabbed a discarded bra from the back of an armchair, where Bad Decision #... something, had tossed it in his hurry to get at you. “Wasn’t exactly expecting company,” you grumbled defensively. 

Bucky laughed nervously. “What, so you’ve just been having random sex and getting drunk everyday?” The look he gave you was desperate, as though begging you to contradict him, to tell him it was all some sort of joke you were playing on him, but you just stood there in silence, not meeting his eyes.

“Jesus Christ, Pocket, this isn’t you,” Bucky exhaled. “None of this is who you are. What have you been doing  to yourself?”

“No,” you scoffed, “this is who you made me, Barnes. So, if you have a problem with what I’ve become, you’ve only got yourself to blame.” You opened your arms wide to encompass the entire apartment, and by extension, the evidence of your downward spiral. “Welcome to the consequences of your own actions!”

“Fuck.” Bucky ran a tired hand down his face after a moment of stunned silence. “I did do this to you, didn’t I? God, I’m so sorry, Pocket. If I could take it back, I would. I know that’s just more empty words, and you’re probably sick of hearing them, but it’s the truth. Hurting you is the biggest regret of my life.”

“Yet, you keep doing it,” you said, sighing heavily. You flopped down on the couch, exhausted and sore. The nurse had warned you there’d be residual cramping, and had insisted that regular ibuprofen would take care of it, but you’d already had six-hundred milligrams and were still aching. You wondered briefly if you had any oxy left from the club, but decided that getting high in front of Bucky was probably not the smartest move you could make right now, so you opted to deal.

Bucky walked over and made a move like he was about to sit down next to you, but something caught his eye. Bending over, he ran a finger through the white powder residue on the coffee table, bringing it to his tongue to taste.

“Shit,” he said, making a face. “Pocket, is this cocaine?!”

“What are you, McGruff the Crime Dog?” you asked sarcastically, before realizing the reference was probably completely wasted on him. He just continued to stare at you expectantly. “So what if it is?” You asked with a shrug. 

“Since when do you do coke?” Bucky asked incredulously. You really didn’t like the way he was looking at you at the moment. Like he had opened the fridge, looking for a carton of milk, but instead found a giraffe in a three-piece suit.

“Since I ran out of oxy,” you said nonchalantly. “And molly.”

A change came over Bucky’s features, and you watched them go hard, judging. “You’ve been doing all this– the drinking, the drugs, sleeping around with god knows who, while you’ve been pregnant?! What? It wasn’t enough to kill our baby, you had to try to kill yourself in the process? Do you know how absolutely fucking stupid you’re being?!” He was shouting at you now, the anger he’d been holding at bay since the hospital coming out in full force. 

You stood back up, taking in a shuddering breath. You hadn’t expected him to blow up at you so unexpectedly. “I didn’t know,” you said softly, voice trembling. “I didn’t know I was pregnant.”

“Would it have made a fucking difference?” he roared. “You already admitted you would have aborted it if you had known! Can you honestly say you wouldn’t have risked the baby’s health– your health– even if you did know?”

You didn’t have an answer to that. “I don’t know,” you whispered.

“Pocket,” the anger seemed to leave Bucky almost as quickly as it had come, “if you hadn’t gotten medical attention right when you did, you could have died. You could have bled out, gone into septic shock. This miscarriage could have fucking killed you. Do you know what that would have done to me? To Sam and Steve? Nat, Wanda, Pepper? What it would have done to fucking Tony?” You were hit with a sudden wave of guilt. In your spiral, you hadn’t considered for a moment what your actions would have meant to the people who loved you. You only cared about forgetting your own pain. 

“When you were getting dressed to come home, I asked the nurse what could have caused the miscarriage. One of the things she mentioned was heavy drug use, but I didn’t pay it any attention. I thought ‘no, not my Pocket, she’s too smart to do something so incredibly dumb; has to be something else.’ But here you are, throwing your entire life away. And for what? Some cheap thrills? And now, you’ve gone and lost a baby and you don’t even care!”

It was too much. His words were getting to be too much, and you were dangerously close to losing it. “Of course I fucking care!” you sobbed, the damn breaking and setting free a flood of tears you’d been pretending weren’t just waiting to spill. “I had our baby– ours, yours and mine– and I fucking lost it because I needed to forget how much pain I was in! How much you fucking made me hurt! It’s been almost two months and I still want to die when I think about you with her. I want to fucking die.”

Bucky’s arms were around you as you collapsed into him, gasping for air between choking sobs. “I close my eyes, and it’s all I can see,” you wailed. “I’ve fucked so many men trying to forget about you, to feel anything besides despair, but all they do is remind me of what I’m missing, what I lost. All the drinking, the drugs, all the sex– I just wanted to forget, to have a few minutes where I could pretend my life wasn’t ruined, that the best thing I ever had hadn’t been stolen away from me!”

Bucky held you tighter, rubbing soothing patterns into your back in an attempt to calm you. “And I just keep losing,” you cried. “I lost you, I lost our baby, I lost Chloe.”

If Bucky wondered who Chloe was, he knew it wasn’t the right time to ask. “Hey,” he said, tilting your chin up so you were looking at him and wiping the tears from your cheeks, “you haven’t lost me. I’m still right here. I know I fucked up. I don’t expect you to forgive me; I don’t deserve it, but I’m always going to be here, no matter what. And, okay, you lost this baby. But that doesn’t mean you won’t have a chance for another.”

“I don’t want someone else’s baby,” you told him, wiping at the tears that just wouldn’t stop coming, and choosing to completely ignore the fact that you’d lost him in every way that actually mattered. “This was the only chance for our baby, and I destroyed it! It’s the universe’s way of telling me I’m not supposed to be a mother.”

“Why the fuck would you think that?” Bucky asked accusingly. “What makes you think you wouldn’t be an amazing mom?”

You let out a hard laugh through your tears. “What the fuck do I know about being a mother?” you asked him bitterly. “It’s not like I had a shining example of one growing up. All I know how to do is push people away. To make them not love me.” That was the sick truth, your exhausted brain and broken heart were telling you in the moment: your biological father, your mother, Bucky. All of them had turned from you, had pulled their love at the first opportunity. A logical part of your brain would have known this wasn’t the case, and that you had so many more people who did love you, but you weren’t running on logic right now.

“Stop,” Bucky begged, voice cracking. “That’s not true. Sweetheart, that’s not true. You are so damn easy to love, I fell for you immediately. I know you don’t believe it, but I never stopped loving you. I’m never gonna stop loving you.”

“Then why, Bucky?” you cried, clinging to him, desperate for an answer that made sense. “Why did you do this to me?”

Bucky pulled you down onto the couch with him, cradling you in his lap. He gently rocked you back and forth. “Because I’m broken, sweets. I’m broken, and I’m stupid, and I let my anger get the best of me. I was so convinced that you were too good for me, that I didn’t deserve you, that I sabotaged us to prove myself right. But none of that is worth seeing you like this. None of that was worth putting you through all the hurt I did. And I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. Nothing I say can undo it. Nothing I do is gonna change what happened, fix the damage I did to you. All I can do is show you that it’s never gonna happen again, whether or not you ever end up forgivin’ me. There’s never gonna be another girl for me, and if you never want me again, that’s okay; I’ll understand. I deserve it and I’ll learn to live with it, but it’s not gonna change how I feel. You’ll be the last girl I’ll ever make love to, even if you decide you never wanna give me another chance.”

You weren’t sure what to say to that. Simply because you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to give him another chance. But that reminded you– there was something you wanted to address with him.

“I’m sorry,” you told him softly. 

Bucky narrowed his eyes at you with a tilt of his head. “What are you sorry about, doll? I’m the one who should be spending the rest of their life apologizin’ to you.”

You turned away from him. “I’m sorry about what Hydra did to you,” you said. When he didn’t say anything, you went on: “I, uh, asked Sam,” you continued. “About what you’d told me with the sparring and how you get… excited.” You felt him still beneath you, but didn’t want to lose your nerve. “I’m sorry that I doubted that they put you through that kind of abuse, and I’m so sorry it happened to you. And… I’m– I’m sorry I didn’t make you feel like I was a safe person you could share that part of your past with.”

Bucky let out an agonizingly slow breath. “Sweets,” he began, “it was never about feeling like you weren’t a safe place for me to be open about it. Not once.”

You took in a shuddering breath, hating that you were making this moment, in a way, about you. “But… you told Steve, and Sam and– and… her. But you didn’t tell me.” You risked a glance at him, afraid he was going to be angry at you, but all you saw was patience in his eyes. “I must have said or done something that made you feel like you couldn’t share it with me, and whatever that was, I’m sorry.”

Bucky shook his head sadly and rubbed his human hand up and down your back. “No, baby.” He exhaled. “It was never like that. I didn’t tell you, because I was ashamed.”

You raised your eyes and gave him a questioning look.

“I could tell Sam, and Steve, and even Carthage, because I didn’t give a shit if they thought I was… fucked up… sexually. It didn’t matter what they thought about it, because, well, I wasn’t trying to impress them, to make them want me, want to be with me. But you?” He brought his vibranium hand up to cup your face, turning it so you were looking at him. “I didn’t want you lookin’ at me and thinkin’ that I was broken, that I didn’t… didn’t work right in the way I wanted you the most. I’d never be able to stand it. I was just so ashamed and embarrassed; and I couldn’t stand the thought of you lookin’ at me the way I looked at myself.”

“Barnes,” you offered with a small, small smile, “I have never, not once, even considered you were broken, sexually. Not before I found out, and certainly not after. In fact, I’ve spent the last two months desperately trying to make myself forget just how not fucked up you are in that department.”

Bucky cleared his throat. “Just, uh, outta curiosity, sweets, how many attempts at forgetting are we talking about here?”

You scrunched up your mouth. “You seriously want to know how many guys I’ve fucked since we broke up, Barnes?”

Bucky shrugged his shoulders in a completely failed attempt at seeming nonchalant. “Like I said, just curious. What are we talking… like, two? Three?”

You snorted. Multiply that by ten, you thought. “You really don’t want to know, Barnes. Trust me.”

“Jesus Christ,” he moaned. “More than three?!”

You shrugged awkwardly. “It’s really not any of your business, Bucky.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck,” he said. “Yeah, yeah, I know it’s not. I just can’t stand the fucking thought of someone else putting their hands on you,” he said through clenched teeth. 

You raised a brow and gave him a sarcastic look. “Hypocrite much?” you asked, though there was no bite behind your words. 

Bucky lowered his head, not meeting your gaze. “Givin’ me a taste of my own medicine, huh, doll? Well, can’t say it’s not fucking bitter, or that I don’t deserve it.”

“I didn’t do it with the purpose of hurting you,” you told him, feeling your tears start to build again. “I did it to get over you. To forget you.”

He brushed a tear from your lashes. “Did it work, doll?” he asked, voice low. “Did you forget? Are you over it?”

You hadn’t. Of course you fucking hadn’t. But you didn’t want him knowing that. Not fully; it was enough though, knowing that he’d felt even a fraction of the jealousy you’d felt. “Hard to say,” you told him, instead. “Maybe the twenty-ninth time’ll be the charm.”

Bucky spluttered and gasped for breath. “TWENTY-NINTH TIME?!? Are you telling me you’ve fucked twenty-eight pieces of shit since you’ve been down here?!” Almost as soon as his frustration burst from him itself, it had died out. “Not my business,” he said, though you could tell he was struggling. 

You’d had enough tormenting him for the night, so you snuggled further into his chest. “Not a single one of them made me forget for a second,” you told him, tilting your head up to look into his eyes. Bucky chuffed and leaned down to kiss the top of your head, and for the first time in months, you felt a hint of the safety you used to feel with him. It was small, but it was there, a tiny ember in a fire you’d feared had long died out. With a rattling sigh, you rested your head against his chest as he continued to rock you, and soon, you were lulled asleep to the sound of his steady, familiar, beloved heartbeat.

<- Previous Part / Next Chapter ->

[billwidoll]

𝐀 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞

Summary: After Rafe returns from World War II, he falls in love with his wife's sister.

Warnings: Psychological problems, war trauma, unwanted pregnancy and betrayal.

Author's notes: this story contains references to several dramatic romantic films and also features Lana del Rey's aesthetics

READ THE FULL STORY! THIS IS A REALLY GOOD STORY! (Leave your opinions in the comments)

❦❦❦❦❦❦❦❦❦❦❦❦❦❦

The war was an episode in Rafe's life that he doesn't want anyone to go through. He went to war to fight for his country and came back from the war with victory, but Rafe had to sacrifice Your psychology and your solidarity. Everyone in America was shouting glory and happiness, but the soldiers were shouting pain and suffering. And to make matters worse, Rafe didn't find his parents, He looked for them but did not find them. Rafe was lost. But he still had a salvation. Before leaving for war, Rafe left a girlfriend, who lived in the interior of the United States, He only had that option and so he went in search of his girlfriend's family.

Before Rafe left for the interior of the United States, he sent a letter to his girlfriend, explaining his situation and also asking for permission from his parents to live with her. Rafe's girlfriend immediately sent another letter saying that he could go, and that her parents were waiting for him.

When Rafe read that letter, his heart eased. He just wanted to get away from New York as quickly as possible, that city was really crazy, and he also had a house now, And he wouldn't need to live under the bridge.

After a few days, Rafe bought his train ticket to go in search of his girlfriend's house. It was three hours on the train, until the driver informed him that they were already there new hampshire. When Rafe hears this, he is on alert to let go on the train at any moment, but when he looks out the train window he sees a young woman, playing with butterflies.

When Rafe saw her, he was immediately enchanted by her beauty. He leaned towards the window to get a better look at the young woman, but the train was fast so it was only a few seconds before he could see her Candle.

That girl's face stayed in Rafe's head, until he boarded the train, that look and her smile left Rafe infinitely enchanted. Rafe stopped thinking about it, he had a girlfriend and that was too clear. Rafe got a ride on a cart, and asked to take him to the address on the paper.

Arriving there, Rafe came across a relatively average house, the environment had flowers, butterflies, trees, it was a very magical place and that was what Rafe needed, something that reminded him of Peace.

Rafe approaches the house and knocks on the door. Until he sees his girlfriend euphorically open

"Oh my! Rafe!!" Rafe's girlfriend screams and jumps on his neck, kissing him and hugging him.

Rafe let out a small laugh, it had been ages since anyone had done that to him.

"Hey! I miss you too Amelia" Rafe says hugging her and kissing her neck.

"let's go! Come in, my mother prepared dinner for you" Amália says pulling Rafe into the house.

When Rafe enters, he smells a familiar smell, he smells food and love and peace in that house, he didn't know what that was, after the second world war. Rafe also came across Amélia's mother smiling at him and Amélia's father was next to her mother.

"Well... you must be Rafe, right? Welcome my son" Rafe's mother says hugging Rafe and kissing him on the cheek.

Rafe was enjoying being treated like that, but It was six years, being treated like rubbish, in the Second World War, so his communication life was bizarre.

"I really appreciate everything you're all doing for me" Rafe says looking down and thanking Amélia's family.

"Well... we have to thank you, for having contributed to the victory of the United States in the war" Amélia's father says, placing his hand on Rafe's shoulder.

And just Rafe thinking about the second world war, the old woman vomiting in his stomach.

"Amélia? Where's your sister? Isn't she back from the woods yet?" Amélia's mother speaks, asking, speaking.

"Hey mom, I don't know! She was near the train station" Amélia says hugging Rafe and petting him.

"I'll send your brother to look for her, the whole family will have dinner here" Amelia's mother demands

A little time passed and Rafe was in his room organizing some of his things. And his head hurt so much, his hands were shaking and his heart was always racing. Rafe was having psychological problems Due to the war, this was a fact.

Well... leaving the room, Rafe went straight to the dining table, eating the food that his mother-in-law made. And when Rafe arrived he came across a girl he had seen when he was on the train. and as incredible as it may seem, Rafe's heart calms down when he looks into her eyes, the anxiety is gone. She was like an angel

"Hey Rafey, I want to introduce you to my little sister! This one is Celeste" Amélia says pushing Rafe closer to Celeste, so they can say hello

"It's a pleasure...to meet you..." Rafe speaks, completely mesmerized by Celeste

"and it's a pleasure to meet you too... Rafe" Celeste says with a huge smile and that smile was the most beautiful smile Rafe has ever seen.

Six months later:

It was already June and summer, and Rafe's girlfriend's entire family were having lunch in the garden of their house. Rafe was already used to the simple and cute life. And your psychological problems improve a lot After he met Celeste. Celeste was like Rafe's best friend, the two were always together, playing and laughing. Rafe always admired her so much that he wanted Celeste to be his girlfriend.

After lunch in the garden, Rafe went in search of Celeste as the girl was always in the woods, and rarely had dinner with her family.

Going there, Rafe managed to find her, Celeste was lying on grass covered in pink petals, and she looked beautiful, so beautiful. The sun reflected off her as if she were a diamond, and her skin It looked so soft and delicate at that moment, Rafe wanted to stay there for hours, but unfortunately or fortunately. Celeste ended up seeing him, and waved calling him.

"hello big man!" Celeste says smiling to Rafe and Rafe loved that smile so much

"Hey Cele, what are you doing here alone?" Rafe speaks in a worried tone, he knew there were several bad men, wanting to harm Celeste

"I was waiting for you! I knew you would look for me like a hunter" Celeste says acting 'strange'

"Okay...and how did you know I was going to look for you?" Rafe asks, looking confused, and Celeste gets closer to his face.

"because you love me, and I love you"

TO BE CONTINUED?

[hyperactively-me]

king!ghost x reader -- separation

warnings: none

The weeks pass in a haze of routine and loneliness. You receive reports from the front lines, each piece of information a bitter reminder of the man you love risking his life for your kingdom. The nights are the hardest, the empty space beside you a constant ache. In the mornings, you always find yourself pawing at his side of the bed as if hoping to find some trace of his warmth, only to be met with a cold mattress and unused pillow.  

Soap proves true to his word. He’s been nothing short of a good friend, providing you with moral support and protection. He assists you in managing the affairs of the kingdom, ensuring that the transition in Simon’s absence is as smooth as possible. 

Every few days, a messenger arrives with news from the front lines. From these small updates, you’ve learned that the Southern Kingdom is, indeed, on the rampage for taking over Kastron’s military for political power and the natural silver mines spread across the land. You’ve also heard some updates from Simon himself, his letters stirring up a mix of emotions. They carry fragments of his true self, his voice reaching out to you across the distance of war. In his words, you find solace and a connection that momentarily alleviates the ache of his absence.

Every day proves to challenge you more than you ever thought you would be in Kastron. You’re tasked with taking the ultimate responsibility of caring for the kingdom from home base, constantly running around attending to various matters of importance. From making sure the royal court was content, to overseeing the distribution of resources to the villages affected by the war, you find yourself taking on tasks you never thought you would. The people of Kastron look to you for guidance, and you strive to embody the strength and resilience they need.

Your mornings begin with a stack of reports, detailing the ongoing developments in the war and the status of the kingdom as a whole. Following that, you often find yourself in meetings with royal councils and the court, detailing your plans to maintain stability and ensure the kingdom's survival. Most advisors are content with the way you’re handling things, but some are more critical than others. The distribution of resources to villages becomes an important aspect of your daily routine. Working closely with a team of trusted advisers, you create strategies to prioritize the needs of villages. Food, medical supplies, and other essentials are dispatched efficiently. 

Every night you get ready for bed, your body aches with fatigue, and your mind races with everything you have to do the next day. 

As you prepare for another quiet dinner, Soap quietly enters the dining room with a loud knock. Surprised to see him standing outside with a tray of food, you let him in. 

“Keeping yer strength up, your majesty?” he asks with a kind smile, setting the tray down on the table.

You return the smile, appreciative of Soap’s thoughtful gesture. “Soap, you’re a lifesaver.”

He chuckles softly. “Well, it’s the least I could do for ya, you’re busy all hours of the day.”

You share a genuine yet wary laugh, the sound echoing in the quiet room. You motion for Soap to sit next to you, needing some company at the dinner table. The aroma of the food wafts through the air, and your stomach, which you realize is far emptier than you thought, grumbles in response.

As you begin to eat, Soap takes a seat across from you. There’s a comfortable silence between you two as you eat, savoring the moment. In the midst of your responsibilities, these quiet, relaxed moments become precious.  

After a few bites, you look up at Soap. “How are things at the front lines? Any new news?”

“Aye, the situation is tense. Our soldiers are holding their ground, but it’s been no easy feat."

Concern lines your forehead. “And Simon? Have you heard anything about him today?”

Soap sighs, shifting in his seat. “He’s holdin’ up, your majesty. His letters to me don’t reveal much, but you know Simon—he’s a fighter. We’ll see him back here sooner than you think.”

Fear and hope well up inside of you. “I just wish I could be there with him. This waiting is driving me crazy.”

Soap nods in understanding. “It’s tough, I know. But Kastron needs you here, guiding us through these… trying times. Simon wouldn’t want you risking yourself.”

You appreciate Soap’s reassurance, but the ache for Simon remains. The conversation shifts to lighter topics, distracting you momentarily from the war. Soap shares personal stories, trying to bring a smile to your face.

After the meal, Soap helps you clear the table. As you both stand in the dimly lit dining room, Soap glances at you. “If ye ever need someone to talk to, your majesty, I’m here. I might not be Ghost, but I’ll do my best.”

You place a hand on his shoulder, grateful for his unwavering support. “Thank you, Soap. I appreciate it more than you know.”

He gives you a sincere nod, a silent promise to continue being there for you. 

Now in your chambers, you settle onto your balcony, gazing out over the kingdom bathed in the soft hues of sunset. You lean against the railing, studying the expansive view below in quiet contemplation. Yes, sadness and yearning has been quite prominent the past few days, yet you’ve also managed to find pride in your work and how you’ve been handling difficult matters. Ultimately, you’re proud of the way you’ve been managing Kastron in Simon’s absence. Yes, the weight of responsibility still rests upon your shoulders, but a newfound strength emerges within you. The people of Kastron rely on your leadership, and you are determined to rise to the occasion.

As the night settles in, you lay in bed, Simon’s pillow cradled in your arms. It’s a poor substitute for the warmth you yearn for.

Your mind races with thoughts of Simon. How he’s doing, what he’s experiencing on the front lines, and whether he’s thinking of you as much as you are of him. 

What a stupid thought, you know he is. 

Sitting up, you light a candle and pull out your box full of Simon’s letters. You reach for one, tracing the pad of your finger over the inked lines of his familiar, scratchy handwriting. 

As you reread Simon’s words, you can’t help but start to get emotional. 

You know he’s more than capable. You know he’s trained for this, specialized in combat and survival. But the knowledge doesn’t erase the worry seeping into your heart, and you don’t think it ever really will. 

The candle’s flame dances in your room, casting shadows on the walls as you immerse yourself in Simon's words. As you reach the end of the letter, a particular passage catches your eye. Simon’s words strike a chord, speaking directly to the concerns swirling in your mind: 

“My beautiful girl, leading Kastron with a dedication that rivals even the greatest of leaders. I miss you, love, but knowing you're holding down the kingdom gives me strength. Kastron needs its queen, and I need to know you’re safe. We’ll get through this, and I’ll be back in your arms soon.”

A tear escapes your eye, landing on the parchment. A mix of emotions—love, worry, pride—stirs inside you. You fold the letter with care, tucking it back in the box with the others as if safeguarding the precious connection it represents. The candle flickers, and you blow it out, casting the room into darkness once again. In the quietude, you lay back, clutching Simon's pillow once more. Sleep eventually claims you, but dreams are elusive.

- - - - -

(masterlist)

[a-court-of-fics-and-errors]

Keep Moving Forwards, Part 7

Azriel x Reader Fic

WARNING:

I wanted to give you a heads-up that the following portion of this fic contains mentions of rape. While it does not go into graphic detail or describe the actual event, it does acknowledge that it is happening, focusing more on the feelings of the character. There is also a short secondary scene involving an attempted rape, but again, it is not described in detail and the scene ends before the assault can take place.

Please read at your own comfort level. If this content makes you feel uncomfortable, that's completely okay. I see you, I hear you, and I deeply appreciate you taking care of yourself. To ensure you don't miss any plot points, I will provide a brief summary in a follow-up post available at this same time. It will not mention the assault. You can look for it under "Keep Moving Forwards, Part 7, Summary".

Summary: After finally deciding to leave your abusive and manipulative mate for good, you find unexpected companionship with Azriel, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court. As you navigate the aftermath of your traumatic relationship, you struggle to understand where the mating bond went wrong and contemplate your path forward, vowing never to return to the past.

Find other parts here: Master List

Content Warning: This story contains depictions of extreme emotional manipulation and abuse, mentions of physical abuse, mentions of rape, loss of a child, and general trauma.

Word Count: 1.8K

Author's Note:

This is a multi-part series. Unlike my previous works, this fanfiction delves deeper than just fluff, exploring complex emotional landscapes. As I navigate this new writing journey, I kindly ask for gentle feedback. The topics addressed are profoundly impactful, touching many lives with diverse experiences. Please be gentle with yourselves and others. Healing is a journey, and everyone processes it differently. Be kind to yourself. Take what resonates, and leave what doesn’t.

Please continue reading, being aware of the above content warnings, ensuring you are in a healthy headspace. Give yourself time to process and be gentle with yourself.

Throughout the rest of the day, you continued to watch the soldiers below, noting the times when the camp seemed quiet and when it was bustling with hundreds of males. An uneasy feeling gripped your shoulders as you felt trapped, reminiscent of being confined in your cabin in the mountains. You were unsure of Azriel's true intentions, despite his kindness, and you didn't want to wait around to find out. You decided you would leave tonight.

You took one of the pillows out of its linen lining, stuffing the naked pillow under the bed before placing your stored food and small collection of knives into the pillowcase and pushing that under the bed as well. You took the ribbon that Anthea had used to tie back your hair and looped it over a few times, securing the hunting knife Azriel had given you in the inner lining of your pants where it couldn't be seen. The only thing that gave you pause was your lack of shoes. Azriel had taken your shoes when you were brought here, and while you wanted them back, asking for them would raise suspicions. Your feet would have to endure the cold. You also gathered a few candle sticks and empty bottles from around the room, intending to use them for collecting water. 

When Anthea brought your dinner, a simple stew, you made an effort to eat every bite, savoring the warmth and preparing yourself for the uncertainty ahead. As she left, a sense of guilt washed over you—escaping a place where she clearly couldn't, if you could escape at all. The fear of continued confinement overwhelmed your fear of being caught. You half thought of bringing her with you, but her uneasy demeanor and the length of time she had been here made you question her ability to survive outside. If you could, you would someday return for her.

You perched by the window, watching as Azriel left for the evening. He didn't come to see you for the rest of the day, which was fine by you. When he was far enough away, you slid from your perch, grabbed the pillowcase of supplies from under the bed. You eyed the swords and axes, but when you went to pick one up, the heft of it caused your side to scream at you, and you decided it would slow you down too much to travel with it. You slipped out the door, ignoring the groaning protest from your aching side.

You found yourself in a small hallway, your room at the end. You made your way down towards the light radiating from below, the cold hardwood floor squeaking beneath your feet. Two other rooms were on this level, each with identical dark wooden doors. At the end, you descended the narrow stairwell to the lower level of the house. At the base was a modest living room with a large mantle, a red sofa, a dining room table with two chairs, and a meager-looking kitchen. Your heart raced too fast to take in much of your surroundings. Behind the stairs was a door that seemed to lead out the back—a welcome relief from having to walk out the front door. You pressed the door open and were immediately met with the smell of wet earth and excrement. Your lips curled in disgust as you pressed your sleeved arm to your nose and walked out, the mud squelching beneath your feet and oozing between your toes. You clambered up the hill, the fires being lit for the evening illuminating your path. Once you hit the treeline, you felt a renewed sense of peace as you continued forward, bumbling in the dark. 

Patrols would be in these woods, you were sure of that, and the best you could do was remain as silent as possible. You continued onward, occasionally freezing at the sound of a shifting branch but otherwise mostly alone. The cold mud made your legs shiver, and goosebumps erupted over your body. You silently wished you had brought one of those furs with you.

You must have only been fifteen minutes away from the camp when you heard what sounded like quiet sobs, followed by male grunting. Your heart stopped in your chest as you listened, the sobs sounding inherently female while the male groaned and moaned. As you walked closer, the sobs became clearer, and the male grunting louder. You realized the female was Anthea, from the small squeaks she let out.

You stopped dead in your tracks, recognizing the sounds of the crying. Your mind raced as you considered your options. There was no way this was of her own accord. Knowing what you did about Illyrian males and the way females shrank around them, you knew this wasn’t the first time this had happened to Anthea. Steeling yourself, you moved closer to the sounds, the light of a single lantern shining in the distance. As the sounds grew louder, the bile in your throat rose as you heard the male, between his animalistic grunts and groans, praising his victim. You had been in her place before. You had felt what she was feeling, and the anger that grew in you bloomed into a red-hot fire. 

You pulled the knife from your pants lining, gripping the handle hard within your fist, dropping the pillowcase behind you, long forgotten as you started to see red. Swallowing the rock in your throat, you moved towards the light and, without thinking, hurled yourself forward.

Your blade slashed through the wings of the male, and he howled, throwing you off him. His pants were still around his ankles as he turned to face you, breathing ragged. His face. Suddenly it all came back: the three Illyrian men, the tree, the storm. Darian.

Anthea slunk away, pressing herself against a tree, tears streaming down her scarred face.

“You,” the male hissed. “I thought you fucking died.”

You said nothing, holding the now-bloody knife as you struggled to your feet.

Darian pulled his trousers back up, tying them in place while licking his lips hungrily. “You’re going to wish you had died when I’m done with you.”

You pushed yourself upright. Though smaller than the others, he still towered over you, his wings flared out in anger, red blood streaming from the gash you had cut. He drew a long serrated hunting knife from his side, flipping it in his hand with ease, as if to show you the weapon he intended to gut you with. You swallowed any notion of fear and steadied yourself, crouching slightly to stabilize your body. The male smirked at your attempt. “Little kitty wants to play?” he laughed, crouching lower as well.

Without a sound, you launched yourself forward, your shoulder connecting with his upper chest, pushing him back slightly. Seemingly taken aback by your strength, the male stumbled and then laughed. “Strong one,” he hissed. “I like fighters, unlike that one over there.” He gestured to Anthea. “She stopped fighting a long time ago.”

His comment sent a new wave of rage through you. You yelled gutturally, slashing forward in a few long strides, but the male sidestepped immediately. When he was next to you, he wrapped his arm around your neck, pulling you tight against him. His scent turned your stomach as he leaned in close, sending his tongue up the side of your face. “Delicious,” he purred as you desperately reached to loosen his grip.

He lifted you from the ground, his continuous pressure on your neck closing your windpipe. The familiar white lining of blacking out began to creep into your vision. You gasped, your nails digging into his hardened skin as he gripped places on your body that recoiled from his touch. He laughed into your ear, breathing you in.

In a moment of panic, you clawed wildly at his face, successfully scratching a long, bloody line down his cheek and through his eye. The male yelled in pain, loosening his grip enough for you to fall to your knees, choking on the air that filled your lungs. “You bitch!” he screamed, covering his eye as he picked up his knife and stabbed it down towards you. You rolled out of the way quickly, the knife digging into the forest floor.

Ignoring the pain in your side, you stood and looked over at Anthea, who sat frozen against the tree. You stumbled over to her, croaking out, “Come on!” But Anthea merely looked at you, her eyes glazed over the same way they were when Azriel touched her, the same way you knew you looked when your mate had done this to you over and over again. “Anthea, we have to go. Now!” you urged, but she didn’t move.

Darian got to his feet, turning towards you, rage embodied. You glanced back at the trembling, half-clothed Anthea, but before you could say anything, your feet were carrying you deeper into the forest. The male came barreling after you, howling insults and threats. Your throat raw from where he had choked you, hot tears poured down your face as you ran into the midnight black. But the male was faster and more calculating. Before you made it far, he grabbed your shoulder and slammed you to the ground. The air was knocked from your lungs as you cried out.

Darian, bleeding from his cheek, laughed. “Thought you could get away?” he taunted.

He straddled you, his hulking body pressing into your midsection as he fumbled with his pants. Even in the night, you heard the sound of rope untying. You screamed, blood-curdling, begging him to stop. Your hands flew up, only for him to grab your wrists, his hands caked in blood as he tried to work your pants down. You kept screaming, begging for anything, anyone. The male laughed into your face. 

Just when you thought it was all going to begin, the beginning of your end, the male screamed and lurched backward. Behind him stood Anthea, holding your knife, lodged in Darian's back. Her eyes were still glazed over. In an instant, he turned around, tackling Anthea, pulling his own knife from his holster and plunging it repeatedly into her neck and chest, howling curses at her.

You lay on the forest floor, unable to stop what was happening as Anthea was almost dead upon impact. You let out a hollow shriek, screaming for him to stop hurting her.

“Y/N!” someone called out, followed by the crashing of woodland underbrush breaking around whoever was running. You were still screaming as Azriel cleared the last fallen log and took in the sight. The male, so enraged, didn’t even turn to see Azriel. Azriel ran to you, wrapping you in his arms, and then a whoosh of cold wind carried you away from the forest.

Author's Note:

Due to the sensitive content in this chapter, I have chosen not to tag anyone. Those who requested tags will be tagged in the summary chapter instead.

I understand that rape and sexual assault are deeply troubling and painful topics in our society. I wrestled with the ethics of writing about these themes and considered whether this addition would move the story forward or if it would be better left out. I am aware that some depictions in novels and fanfictions can be harmful, as they may glorify or misuse these themes. That is not my intention at all.

My writing often reflects my journey toward healing and understanding myself in more complex and holistic ways. While I recognize that such writings don't always need to be shared, my connection to these characters, their pasts, and their traumas compelled me to include this subject matter. I frequently ask myself if scenes involving power and control over another character can be portrayed without depicting non-consent or sexual assault. If possible, I avoid these topics altogether. However, I chose to include this scene because of the ongoing systemic oppression of women in these novels, particularly Illyrian women. I aim to do justice to these characters and highlight the complex systems of oppression both in fiction and in our world.

I am still learning how to share my art with others, and my art includes a part of myself. I hope you understand that my intentions are not to use these themes as mere plot devices or for shock value, but rather to serve a greater purpose.

Please take care of yourself and make choices that honor your well-being. Know that you are loved, cared for, and valuable.

Thank you for allowing me to explore this topic. I'll see you in the next part.

[14dyh]

Sickness | H.Z.

Pairing: Hange Zoë x female reader Summary: Hange takes care of Y/N during a terrible cold. Word count: 1.4k A/N: oh to be taken care of by hange… (btw hange x reader requests are highly encouraged, i love doing them)

The weather changes recently have been a challenge to Y/N's immune system, which may also partly be the reason for her often sickness. Y/N forgot what mornings without a stuffy nose felt like, or a clawing sore throat begging for relief from a distasteful cough syrup. Food barely tasted good, and every night, the dread of running out of tissues at her bedside creeps up on her. Sickness was incredibly mundane after what she had to go through during the war that both ended and began everything. The war demanded her to fight despite bleeding and injury. To think that a soldier trained to withstand any sickness was currently sick in bed was somehow ironic.

Y/N shifted groggily in the sheets, mind still clouded and her breathing quietly desperate for a better airway.

"Hello, love. Good morning," Hange would quietly say every morning accompanied by a tight hug around her chest, snuggling closer as their bodies dipped on the soft mattress.

Y/N would smile but quietly scold Hange for insisting on sleeping beside her despite her sickness.

"Pfft, I won't get sick," Hange would reason, even going as far as proving it with a few kisses. "See? Sickness itself is scared of me."

Hange's humorous attitude alleviated the discomfort within Y/N. The sickness often irritates her because of how much it restricts her actions around the house. After the war, the house she envisioned with Hange gradually became a reality and became where they settled. It has a wonderful view of a riverside and vast greenery. The neighbors are few and everyone has been kind, mostly because of Hange's charm and friendliness.

Hange insisted on tending to the house when Y/N got sick. They learned to clean up and organize the house in functions that would favor them both. It was a scene Y/N always envisioned as she gripped her sword to fight. This is the peace she fought for. A quiet, married life with her most beloved in a serene countryside.

"Hm, awake already? How'd you feel?" Hange approached the bed, carrying a tray of steaming food over the bed.

"Terrible, but not very much," Y/N muttered, sitting up before coughing on a fresh tissue. She would look at the food Hange prepared and smile, knowing that Hange had been exploring more cookbooks on their bookshelf. They have been fascinated by the outside world cuisine, always eager to try something new and pick the best ones for Y/N. Hange would usually sit by the bed as Y/N ate, flipping through the cookbooks and telling her the contents, what looked tasty, or what they would try next. Y/N could not help but give Hange a loving stare as they rambled on, appreciating how Hange used their curiosity as a love language.

Y/N cherished these days despite the sickness as it was nothing compared to their life before the war. She longed for this resolute peace, creating these halcyon memories to remember.

Y/N, consumed by her current happiness, is unaware that she is slowly deteriorating. Darkness slowly spreads underneath her once lively eyes. Her skin appears more sickly than ever, and a strange lack of reflection plagues the mirrorless house. The setting sun never fades into darkness, and the ticking clocks of life have paused.

The morning... or what she thought it was... was nothing like any before. She awoke shaking and panting violently, her fists clenched and unclenched the sheets as if trying to hold to reality and reality itself. She squeezed her eyes shut, pinching her nose as if to compress the horrors of the past. Was it another nightmare of the war? The same recurring dream of losing Hange? It was unbearable to watch like a memory violently forced into the forefront of her mind.

"It's just a dream..." She muttered to herself, holding onto the pillow.

No sooner, Hange entered the room carrying the breakfast they prepared for Y/N. A worried expression passed over their face as they saw the disheveled, panicked state of their sick wife on the bed. Hange sat beside Y/N, wrapping the blankets around her until they were intertwined in each other's arms.

"I dreamed about it again..." Y/N muttered, almost shakily. "I lost you... You died in that war..." Y/N sniffled, leaning closer to the warmth of her lover, letting her ears be filled with the sound of their heartbeat. Hange remained silent, slowly stroking her hair.

Then Hange broke the silence and whispered, "Why do you think so?"

"We can't pretend like this anymore," Hange whispered back in response, a morose sigh passing over their lips as they almost trembled holding her. Y/N felt her heart lodged in her throat, a deep pit in her stomach eating her away.

Y/N shrugged and shook her head lightly, her hand finding a way around Hange's. "I don't know, probably just my head messing with me," she muttered.

A long silence followed and it filled Y/N with discomfort as though there was something lurking beneath her terrible dreams.

"Hange, what do you mean...?" Y/N wanted to take it back, her words almost like a terrible mistake to trigger a ticking bomb.

Y/N was overcome with the gentle shudders from Hange as they sobbed on her shoulder. Their eyes watering with desperation and grief, they finally mustered the courage to face her, tracing a thumb over her cheeks. The lightness of her touch seemed insignificant against the deeper pallor of her face and the dark circles that enveloped her eyes, signs of her deep internal illness.

Y/N sniffled, partly because of the cold and partly because a dreadful truth began clawing on her insides, demanding to be let out. She could not meet the gaze of her spouse this time.

"I'm so sorry..." Hange whispered. "I wish things could be different."

Hange paused and brought their lips to her cold hands.

"That doesn't matter now, though." Hange's tears began to trickle down their lover's hand, a transitory warmth passing over. "You have to wake up now."

"What...?" It was weak, a persistent cry from her throat, wishing that her ears were fooling her this time.

"Wake up now, I'll always be here," Hange held her tight, their actions betraying their words. They don't want to let go. But holding on would only hurt her.

Y/N shook her head furiously, a string of no's spilling from her lips as she held on to Hange with her eyes closed.

"Please, sweetheart," Hange pleaded, their thumb wiping away the tears that fell on their lover's face. "You have to let me go."

"What are you saying...? Please don't leave me..." Y/N gripped Hange's arms, afraid to let them go again. Afraid that she would lose them again the way she did back then.

Was it all a dream? Y/N thought to herself. Then why does the sun feel so warm, why were Hange's heartbeats so real against her ear? Y/N broke into tears as the world began to shift back to reality once again. The warmth. Hange's heartbeats. They felt so strong yet so desperately hollow...

Unreal.

"I love you, I always will." Hange loosened the grip, letting Y/N return to the world they fought for.

-

Y/N woke up crying on the cold sheets of what their room should have been. A heavy storm pounded against the roofs and windows, the sound forming a euphonious symphony to be heard inside. Y/N let the obsidian sky cry with her, the emptiness of the house consuming her bit by bit. The same place Hange promised to build a life with her became nothing but a hungry space, waiting to consume her as well.

Y/N shook her head, refusing for things to end this way. She cried and cried, she showed this place that she wouldn't be consumed... she was meant to live. That's what Hange would have wanted.

Y/N fell asleep crying, peaceful at once as she drifted back to unconsciousness.

That morning, Y/N felt the balmy rays of the sun spilling warmth through her skin. Her eyes fluttered open, still puffy and weak from crying. She cried with the sky so much that night. So hard that her nose cleared up, regaining her airways once again.

She could breathe again, no longer suffocating, no longer a prey to be consumed by her grief... The empty grave of her lover felt so close yet so illusory in the backyard of the house they once dreamt of together.

"Thank you, Hange..." she mumbled as her eyes fluttered close once again. A tell-tale embrace enveloped her in warmth as she drifted back to a peaceful slumber.

[victimeyez]

Withdraw

Part 2 of the Professional//Victim + In The Woods Somewhere crossover series The Professionals

~

Tommy spent the rest of the day outside, between lying in the sun and walking laps around the property. It felt like a dream after being in the hole for so long. Well, he assumed it was long - he had no way of knowing how much time had passed since Caius took away the last of his light. 

He’d been outside for a couple of hours before he realized it might look bad to Fletcher. If they suspected he was trying to plan an escape, they might take away this freedom just as fast as they had given it. Tommy stood in front of the lodge, taking slow, even breaths to try to steel himself. 

He finally ventured inside, nervous to walk through the house alone to try to find Fletcher. Luckily, they were in the kitchen, cooking something that reminded Tommy how hungry he was. He hadn’t dared take anything, even after Fletcher said he could. It felt like a trap. 

Fletcher glanced in his direction. “What’s up?”

Oh. Tommy immediately forgot what he had prepared to say.

“I uh– I guess I just wanted to…check in. Do you need– do you want me to help with dinner? Or…anything else?..” He cringed internally, but offered Fletcher a timid smile. Please, please like me.

“Mm, no, I’m just cooking for myself right now,” Fletcher said. 

“Oh, okay. I’ve just been outside, you have really - the grounds are really beautiful.”

“I’m glad you appreciate it. Have you eaten yet?”

“Uh…no, not yet.” The idea of taking his own food sounded infinitely daunting. Caius had been very strict on that, and it felt wrong now to assume what he could eat, and when. Tommy fidgeted uncomfortably, wrapping his arms around himself like a shield.

Fletcher said nothing. They retrieved two bowls from the cabinet, filled one for themself, then dished the remainder into the second. It was smaller, but still enough to be a decent serving. They picked both up and held the smaller one towards Tommy.

Tommy looked at the food. Steaming, vibrant vegetables tossed with rice. His stomach growled loud enough he was sure Fletcher heard it. He looked up at Fletcher, trying to read them, to see if this was real. They just waited.

Slowly, hesitantly, Tommy reached for the bowl, and Fletcher pulled it back. Tommy snapped his hand back like Fletcher had tried to bite him.

“I’m being nice,” Fletcher informed him. “I told you to eat hours ago. I’m not cooking all your meals for you. I’m cutting you some slack because you’re new here. But you need to feed yourself. Understand?”

“Yes, Fletcher.” Tommy swallowed nervously. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to… overstep.”

“I told you more than once that you can get your own food from the kitchen.”

They held out the bowl. Tommy haltingly reached for it again, and this time Fletcher let him take it. 

“I’m sorry… thank you,” he added timidly. The bowl was warm in his hands, and the smell was making his mouth water. 

“Do I eat at the table?”

“Sure,” Fletcher said, heading off towards the couch. “Wherever. You can eat in your room, just bring your dirty dishes back.”

Tommy absconded to his room to eat. Sitting at the table felt like too much. He snuck his dishes to the sink and sequestered himself back into his room until nightfall, just sitting at the window, trying to drink in the dream while it lasted. 

When it started to grow late, his meditation was interrupted by a knock on the door. When Fletcher entered, Tommy scrambled to his feet.

“Stand down there, soldier, I just brought you some necessities. Since apparently they sent you without anything but the clothes on your back, I put together a little pack for you.” Fletcher opened the bag and showed him - shampoo, conditioner, deodorant,  a bar of soap, a toothbrush, tooth paste, dental floss, antibiotic ointment, and a big box of bandaids.

Right. Still going to beat the shit out of me. Don’t get too comfy, Tommy chided himself, but accepted the pack gratefully. 

“I don’t – I don’t know what to say, thank you,” he told Fletcher, hugging the bag to his chest. 

“There’s some clothes in the dresser. Should fit you, sort of.” 

Tommy nodded, thanking them again. Fletcher made a vague grunt of acknowledgement and left. He found a pair of gym shorts and a soft tee to sleep in, both baggy on him, but good enough. Fletcher didn’t lock the door to Tommy’s bedroom when they left, or even after he showered and brushed his teeth. Tommy couldn’t bear to turn the lights off, so he sat in bed with them on, anxiously waiting to see if Fletcher would lock his door. He was still waiting for the sound of that click when he finally fell asleep.

~

He woke up early on his own. It took him a minute to remember where he was, all that had transpired yesterday. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d fallen asleep without a heavy dose of meds from Sam. He wished he had some now, a thought that had occurred to him numerous times while he had sat vigilant the night before. He wasn’t in any real pain, other than the usual aches he had from things that never healed quite right. The meds still offered comfort, the best break he could get from his reality. 

Through the window, he saw the grounds illuminated in a dull blue light. Sunrise hadn’t broken yet. Maybe it was the new surroundings, maybe it was a hanging fear of Caius coming for him – whatever it was, Tommy felt sick to his stomach with anxiety. He decided to get up and make his way downstairs to get a jump on the day. If he showed Fletcher that he was useful, then maybe they would maintain their mercy on him for a little longer.

It felt good – or, at least, better – to do something. He found an assortment of cleaning supplies in the cabinet under the sink, and got to work. Without knowing Fletcher’s schedule yet, he wasn’t sure how long he would have, but he was hellbent on doing the most thorough job he could. Everything was wiped down twice, every corner and crease scrubbed to perfection. Tommy was still furiously wiping at the grouting between the shower tiles when the door to the bathroom swung open. 

“Uh…okay.” He recognized the trainee at the door, the only woman he’d seen around the lodge. Her hair was tied in a bun that more resembled a rat’s nest on top of her head, and she still had sleep in her eyes. She stepped back out the door, turning her head to call out–

“Fletcher! Your boy is taking up the bathroom!”

Tommy’s eyes went wide, still clutching the sponge when he raised his hands in a supplicant gesture. “No, wait, please don’t get–”

Fletcher appeared in the doorway, eyeing the disheveled Tommy standing in the bathtub. They looked over the bathroom he had already cleaned with a charming look of utter boredom.

“You. Let them use the bathroom.”

“Of course– I mean, yes Fletcher,” Tommy stumbled over himself, rushing to wipe the bleach from his hands and fleeing the bathroom while they waited. 

“You can finish it later, it’s a bloodbath trying to get in there in the mornings. Go put some proper clothes on and get breakfast, I have tasks for you today.” 

Tommy nodded eagerly and retreated to his room. He was already sweating, did Fletcher turn the heat on in the night or something? But when he wiped the sweat away, his skin felt clammy. He did his best to clean himself up a little, giving the dresser a quick rummage for clothes. 

He settled on a pair of jeans and an old shirt with a car on it, boasting the Ford brand. While Tommy was not loyal to any particular car manufacturer, it felt like a little link to his home back in Detroit. Maybe that made it a lucky shirt – and he could really use whatever luck he could get for his first full day with Fletcher. Everything was still big on him, but he found a belt in the bottom drawer that helped. He took a deep breath before heading to the kitchen, scared to keep Fletcher waiting too long. 

Having options to choose from for breakfast was a little overwhelming. He settled on a bowl of cereal and an apple. Sitting at the table with Fletcher helped a little - there had been very few times in the last five years that Tommy had eaten a meal without Caius’s supervision. Still, he bounced his leg under the table, and his anxiety nagged at him. 

Am I chewing too loud? What does Fletcher want me to do? Are they unhappy with how I was cleaning the bathroom? Sweat dewed on his forehead while he struggled to get his meal down, even though everything tasted good. Fletcher even let him drink coffee, which he immediately burned his tongue on, eager as he was to get to drink it again.

Afterwards, Fletcher presented him with a list. 

“Clean up the kitchen. Anything that doesn’t fit in the dishwasher needs to be hand washed, and don’t forget to wipe down the counters. Then start on the list. The order doesn’t matter, other than doing the dusting before you do the floors. I don’t care when you break for lunch, just don’t let me catch you slacking off for too long. I expect everything to be finished before dinner. If you have any questions, come find me, I’ll be with the students. Capiche?”

Tommy read through the list. Dust, scrub the floors, weed the crops, lunch, water everything in the greenhouse, clean the bathrooms on the middle floor and upstairs, clean up after dinner. It sounded doable - though the weeding could take a long time, depending on how bad it was. He tried to remember if he had seen many when he looked at the gardens yesterday – it couldn’t have been bad, he probably would have noticed that. Right?

He worked through the kitchen, trying to do as thorough a job as possible, as fast as possible. He upended the toaster over the sink, giving the bottom a few slaps to empty the crumbs out before wiping it down and replacing it. Dishes were rinsed with hot water before being loaded into the dishwasher, and he managed to slip the broom underneath the fridge while he was sweeping. There was an overflow of dishes from a day or two of neglect, so he was left with a lot of handwashes, which he polished dry. After a lot of rummaging in the cabinets, he eventually found where each thing went, or at least an approximation. 

Dusting next, afterwards floors, by then the bathrooms should be mostly clear - and he had a head start on one. He dusted furiously, straining on the tips of his toes to reach the top of the ceiling fan blades. Everything got a once over with the duster, and then again by hand with a paper towel, spraying any surface that could take it with cleaner. It was odd using real cleaners again - he’d been long banned from most anything other than vinegar and baking soda. Nothing that could put him out permanently if he drank it. 

He was soaked with sweat already before he moved down to the floor to scrub. No mop, just crawling around on his hands and knees to polish the wooden floors. The fumes from the lemon cleaner stung his eyes. With only a fitful night of sleep, his weariness was quickly catching up to him. At the same time, he was fervently anxious, buzzing with nervous energy. Jittery and exhausted, always a winning combo.

Tommy finished the main living room, his arms sore and knees aching already. He flexed his hands open and closed, trying to regain feeling. He kneeled on the floor and looked at the scrubber, and back up at all the flooring he still had to do, and a frustration welled up inside of him.

What stupid motherfucker buys a big fancy cabin they don’t even take their boots off in, and doesn’t own a mop. Invest in a goddamn Swiffer. How useless do you have to be to not even keep the bare minimum of cleaning supplies? Is that going to be my role here, being a housewife to replace your mommy doing everything for you?!

The moment passed, and he was a little taken aback by himself. Fletcher obviously wasn’t…whatever that was. They raised all of those crops, for fuck’s sake. 

Pace yourself better. We just need a little - a super quick break. Grab some water. 

Tommy set his supplies to the side and slipped into the kitchen. Unfortunately, he was not alone there, as a student was helping themselves to a late morning snack. Tommy had seen him yesterday, but steered clear. He was tall with a little bit of bulk, the poster boy of frat bros who’d recently gotten really into crossfit. His wavy hair was long on top, buzzed into a severe fade to the nape of his neck.

And he was making a goddamn mess.

A knife handle smeared with jelly stuck out of a jar of peanut butter on the counter, crumbs decorating the counter Tommy had just worked so hard to polish. He had a plate out, but opted to eat leaning against the counter instead, letting crumbs and drips of jam fall where they may on the newly cleaned floor. 

Tommy stared at him for a moment in disbelief. Here was some real, shameless laziness to be mad about, but what could he say? He considered turning and leaving to drink from a bathroom faucet, but the trainee had spotted him. Nervously, Tommy made his way to the fridge to find a pitcher of filtered water he’d spotted earlier. 

The trainee watched him with open curiosity as Tommy approached the refrigerator with the tribulation of a tightrope walker. When he extracted the pitcher, victorious, he peered inside to find it had been fridged empty. Tommy stared at it, dumbfounded, before raising his gaze to the sink, only a few feet from the other resident. 

It was with a dramatic resignation that Tommy approached to refill it. His hands trembled holding it under the tap, wrists tired, already sore.

“I’m Billy,” the student offered. Tommy gave his general direction a curt nod, a thin smile. 

“So uh…you live here now?”

Tommy set the pitcher on the counter, waiting for it to trickle through the filter.

“Yeah, um, I guess.”

Billy munched at his sandwich. There was a smear of peanut butter in his short beard.

“Why are you wearing a collar?”

Tommy froze, a deer in the headlights. He had assumed Fletcher had offered some form of explanation to the trainees. Or maybe they did, and Billy was trying to fuck with him. The familiar weight of his collar around his neck suddenly felt heavy, sweaty, conspicuous. The barbed tines inside itched.

“If it’s a sex thing, you can just say so. You look like you’re into some freaky shit.” Billy wasn’t subtle about checking him out, his eyes sweeping over Tommy with a lurid gaze. Maybe Tommy could have fielded it, if he was still under Caius, but what Fletcher expected from him remained an enigma. Should he ignore it? Dispute it? Agree with it? Excuse himself? Fletcher hadn’t said anything about how Tommy was supposed to treat the students.

“Jesus dude, chill. I was just asking.” Tommy hadn’t realized he was breathing hard until Billy raised his hands innocently.

“I’m – I’m sorry, I don’t think – I’m not sure if Fletcher…” Billy raised an eyebrow, waiting for Tommy to form a complete thought. Tommy waited for one, too. The awkward pause only grew more awkward. 

“I just – came here for some water.” Tommy ended weakly. He snatched a glass from where he’d put them away earlier and poured some water in with shaky hands, spilling some on the counter. He wiped it up hastily with a towel, cursing under his breath. 

“You look crazy tense. When’s the last time you got laid?”

“No,” Tommy snapped. Simple, but an unconscionable protest. He slapped a hand over his mouth and retreated, beelining for the bathroom. He enjoyed his hard-earned glass of water sitting in the half-cleaned tub, behind the curtain, hiding from the world as best he could behind a door with no lock.

His frantic compulsion to please Fletcher forced him out after only a brief break. He washed his face in the sink, sweat beading on his brow almost instantly. His head felt foggy, and a throbbing headache was blossoming in his skull. He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes for a moment, before wringing his hands out as if to banish his shakes. When he stepped out of the bathroom, Fletcher was waiting for him.

Fletcher looked like they were about to say something, but stopped when they saw Tommy’s face. It was pale and sweaty, dark curls sticking to his forehead, deep shadows under his eyes. Not a huge difference from his usual demeanor, but enough to give them some pause.

“You good, dude?”

“Yes,” Tommy said quickly. Then, “Um, actually, I just have a headache. I was wondering if I could maybe get some painkillers, please?”

“Yeah, sure,” Fletcher said, still eyeing Tommy skeptically. 

They led him back to the kitchen. Billy was gone, but his mess remained behind. Tommy could feel his heart racing. Should he tell Fletcher that he had cleaned the kitchen and Billy had messed it up again? Or would they get mad that he was blaming one of their trainees?

Fletcher glanced around but made no comment. They opened up a cabinet and fished out a bottle of ibuprofen, dumping two small red pills in Tommy’s hand.

Ibuprofen was not exactly what Tommy had hoped for. They may as well have stuck a bandaid on his forehead for all the good it was going to do him.

“Thank you,” Tommy murmured, staring down at the pills in his palm.

“You need water?”

“Oh...right. I got it.” 

Tommy picked up the pitcher on the counter and shakily refilled his glass. He tossed the pills into his mouth and drank them down. He forced a smile to Fletcher.

“All good. Thanks.”

Everything went blurry, then sideways. The ground hit him hard.

Tommy laid on the floor staring up at the starburst of the ceiling light. Fletcher appeared over him, lightly slapping his cheek.

“Hey, hey, you with me?”

“Uh… uh-huh,” Tommy managed. 

He started to stand up, but the room swam, and he fell back with a groan. He felt feverish, his short break hadn’t helped the sweating at all. His head pounded like a hammer to his temples. He felt so weak he could barely move, yet he trembled uncontrollably. 

Tommy couldn’t deny it any longer. He’d tried to dismiss it, tried to power through, but he knew this feeling - it was unmistakable. It didn’t always happen when Caius took his pain meds away, depending on where in the healing cycle he was, if he’d been tapered off slowly - but when they cut him off cold-turkey, things got bad fast. He just wanted so badly to prove to Fletcher that he was worth keeping around. Instead, he was twitching uselessly at their feet on the kitchen floor, a junkie going through withdrawals.

Fletcher sighed, kneeling down over him. “Alright, alright, c’mere.” They pulled Tommy by his arms to sit up, hunched over his lap limply like a ragdoll. With a surprising swiftness, Fletcher pulled him over their shoulder and lifted him up in a fireman’s carry. Tommy squeaked, dizzied from the rapid shift, and swallowed back nausea as Fletcher carried him off. He was deposited unceremoniously into his bed with a bounce and a yelp.

“Bag, please, bag-” Tommy stammered, but he only lasted long enough to crawl to the edge of the bed before retching onto the floor. 

“Great,” Fletcher mused dryly, and walked out, shutting the door behind them.

They only left Tommy to wallow a few minutes before they returned with paper towels and a cleaner Tommy had left in the living room.

“I’ll clean it up,” Tommy mewled, but when he reached for the paper towels, Fletcher slapped his hands away easily. Chastised, he curled his hands against his chest, whimpering in distress when Fletcher did a quick clean up. 

Oh, they’re going to leave me to die in the woods for sure now - it should never be their duty to clean up after me. Fletcher’s aid had immediately iced Tommy’s agitation, leaving him feeling remorseful and meek. 

“‘M so sorry,” he slurred miserably. Fletcher didn’t answer, just removed the soiled paper towels from the room without a word.

They returned a few minutes later with a water bottle, a sleeve of crackers, and a small garbage can that they placed beside his bed. 

“Here, just, stay hydrated. I can make some ginger tea or something if you still feel… nauseous…” The end of Fletcher’s sentence trailed as they looked Tommy over. “You’re shaking real hard.”

Tommy wrapped his arms around himself as if he could hold himself still.

“Sorry,” he forced out through a clenched jaw. He didn’t even know what he was apologizing for. Being too sick to work?

Fletcher placed their hand against his forehead. 

“When did you start feeling sick?”

“This… morning.”

“Hm.” 

Fletcher stood there watching him for a moment, then sighed and sat down at the foot of the bed, drawing their phone from their pocket and dialing a number. There was a moment while they waited for an answer, then Tommy heard one half of their conversation.

“Hey, I got a guy here who got really sick all of a sudden. He just got here yesterday and seemed fine then. Feels like he’s running a fever, definitely sweaty, shaking, throwing up, headache, passed out for a second, looked like. Seems kinda out of it. He’s not like sneezing or coughing, though. Hey, anything else?”

Fletcher poked Tommy in the leg to signify they were talking to him.

“Um…” Tommy tried to take stock. He tried to remember the symptoms Fletcher had already said. “Hurts.”

“Hurts?”

Tommy nodded. The motion made his head swim.

“Okay, uh, body aches I guess,” Fletcher added to the person on the phone. 

Fletcher pulled one of Tommy’s arms toward them and pressed their fingers to his wrist. After a moment they said, “It’s elevated.”

Fletcher listened to the person on the other end, then reached over and pulled Tommy’s eyelids open, looking closely.

“Yeah, I think so.”

They released, and Tommy squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. When he opened them, Fletcher was pinching the bridge of their nose.

“Yeah, I was worried you would say that.” Fletcher moved the phone away from their mouth and spoke to Tommy. “You on drugs?”

Tommy’s mouth flapped like a fish out of water. They said on drugs like someone in a DARE psa, and he didn’t want to get in trouble so quickly. But it would be worse if he lied. It was obvious now, so he should just cooperate. Maybe… maybe Fletcher would get him what he needed if he was forthright about it.

Tommy nodded an affirmative.

“What were you on?”

“I, uh, I don’t know, exactly,” Tommy responded sheepishly. “Mostly, painkillers and sedatives. Sometimes….some coke, to wake me up. I just took whatever they gave me, I don’t - I didn’t ask questions. I think… I think the doctor started, um, overdosing me on purpose.”

Fletcher stared at Tommy a moment before speaking into the phone.

“I’m gonna have to call you back.”

Fletcher ended the call. They began dialing a new number, walking out of the room as they did so. They didn’t particularly want a chat with Caius, but it seemed to be in order. 

“Tommy’s not giving you trouble, is he?” A silky voice asked when he picked up the call. Caius oozed charisma - an insufferable tryhard at his best.

“Well, he was perfectly well behaved before he started going through fucking withdrawals,” Fletcher said as they shut the door to their office behind them. “I need to know what drugs he was taking since you and your associates conveniently forgot to mention this.”

“Oh, well, we have a doctor on staff who provides cutting edge medical care-”

“What. Fucking. Drugs,” Fletcher cut him off.

“I’m saying,” Caius sounded annoyed, “that I didn’t administer the medications myself beyond some basic painkillers.”

Fletcher took a breath through their nose. “Then put me in contact with the doctor.”

“I’m not at liberty to be giving out the personal information of-”

“I will come to your fucking house!” Fletcher yelled through the phone. “Meadowview Community. Only house in an abandoned neighborhood development, props on pulling that off. You sold me a defective product. Don’t fuck around with me right now.”

“...One moment.”

There was shuffling and muttering on the other line before a new voice spoke into the receiver.

“This is Dr. Sam Snow, how can I help you?”

Fletcher blinked. “Were you fucking sitting next to Caius this whole time?”

“Well-”

“Put the phone on speaker. I want a list.”

Sam sighed, and Fletcher could hear him shifting in his seat on the other end.

“I make customized blends and dosages to fit the specific needs of-”

“Of what?” Fletcher interrupted again. “I don’t need the sales pitch, I need names of drugs.”

“Some of them are pre-market, the names wouldn’t be of any use to you. What do you need them for? Maybe I can help if I know what you’re looking for.”

“Yeah, the guy you sold me is going through withdrawals, so I need to know what he was taking.”

There was some muttering on the other end, muffled like a hand was held over the microphone. 

“Mostly opioids, some SSRI’s, and then some stimulants and depressants to keep the yoyo going. Give him some methadone to wean him off, he’ll be fine. How bad off is he?”

“Shaking, passing out, throwing up, running a fever,” Fletcher rattled off the symptoms. “You said he was on SSRI’s?”

Caius said something unintelligible, and they both giggled. 

“Uh, yeah, just to keep him from, you know. Kermiting-the-frog suicide. You might want to watch out for that.”

Fletcher blew out a long breath. “Okay. Methadone. Anything else I should know? How often was he taking stimulants - are those going to be a concern?”

“Eh, probably not. Towards the end there, we were kinda just keeping him in storage, so he’s just been doped down.”

“Right. Well. If there’s anything else I should know, you should tell me now. You don’t want me to have to call you again.”

Fletcher balanced their tone between civil and threatening. There was a long pause on the other end.

“...Like, about drugs?”

“About anything! If I need to know something, tell me now.”

“Ehh….not really? If you ever want some more though, I know all of Tommy’s favorites.”

“Did Tommy ask about me?” Caius spoke up, his voice carefully dry. He could play casual all he wanted, Fletcher wasn’t fooled.

“Why, did you want him to?”

Whatever Caius might have said, Sam interrupted. “We don’t care. Did you need anything else?” 

“That’s all.” In the interest of being diplomatic, they forced out a, “Thanks,” before ending the call. 

They called Estrada back.

“Do you have any methadone?”

~

Fletcher slipped back into Tommy’s room, looking something akin to apologetic. It set off alarm bells in Tommy’s head. If his heart wasn’t already racing from the withdrawals, it would be now.

“So… here’s the thing,” Fletcher began. “I can’t get you methadone until tomorrow at the earliest. So we’re just gonna have to tough this out together.”

It took a moment for Tommy to process what they were telling him, trying to think through a haze. 

“Can I have something else? Just, a tiny bit to get me through, until then? Please?”

“Thing is, I don’t know what exactly you were taking, so I don’t really want to give you anything else. I don’t know what’s in your system right now - it’d be better to just flush everything and get a clean start.”

There was a terrible dread in Tommy’s expression for just a moment, before he reflexively masked himself with a poker face. He curled up on his side, looking up at the window, his throat too thick to reply.

“Alright, well, I’ll check up on you. Drink water, try to sleep it off for now. I’ll be back around for the thick of it.”

Before Fletcher could head for the door, Tommy pushed himself to sit up.

“Wait, wait, wait!”

Fletcher hesitated.

“What do I have to do?”

“You’re gonna just have to let it run its course-”

“No, no - to get the drugs,” Tommy stammered out. “What do you want me to do?”

Fletcher stared at him. “What did I just say?”

Tommy looked down at his hands, fidgeting. 

“I know,” his voice broke. “But… you could get them. If you wanted. So… just tell me what you want and I’ll-” he swallowed uncomfortably. “-I won’t fight.”

Fletcher looked down at him. “You would do anything?”

“Yes,” Tommy breathed.

“That’s why you need to detox.”

Before Tommy could beg, bargain, or argue, Fletcher left the room.

~

~

~

Taglist: @suspicious-whumping-egg @whumpyourdamnpears @generic-whumperz @lonesome--hunter

@whumplr-reader @theelvishcowgirl @sunshiline-writes @dont-be-gentle-please @galesgallery

@2in1whump @sparrowsage @apokolyps @whumpinggrounds

@morning-star-whump @leviiio @alexmundaythrufriday

@defire @jumpywhumpywriter @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

@light-me-on-pyre @slightlydisturbedbeans @dislexiher @paperprinxe @desert-dyke

@just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @whatwasmyprevioususername @cursedandtired

@whump-only @misspelledwitch @redstainedsocks @thehopelessopus @im-just-here-for-the-whump

@thatsthewhump @utopian819 @pretty-face-breaker @thesuffererrrr

Thank you for reading!

[kaleldobrev]

I Finally Get It

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: Dean thinks he looks like a character from one of your favorite slasher films. You on the other hand...don't see the resemblance.

Original Prompt: Requested by @flory-alexandra | Hi, can you do something similar to -Spitting image-, but with Jensen's character from My Bloody Valentine

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Cursing (2x), Fluff, Dean & reader acting like children, Jealous Dean & reader

Authors Note: Okay, despite the fact that I absolutely loved both prompts, I decided to go with the My Bloody Valentine one because I don't think that movie gets as much love as it deserves as a slasher film (okay maybe I'm bias, but Jensen did great in that film!!). Plus, Halloween is coming up in like a month and this is right around the time I start watching my horror movies and My Bloody Valentine is on my list to watch every single year | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

Dean as Soldier Boy version

For as long as you could remember you’ve always loved horror movies. You loved the cheesiness, the bad special effects, the horrible acting — just the camp of it all. Horror movies always brought you a strange sense of comfort and you couldn’t really pinpoint why; not until a couple of years ago anyway. “I like to watch movies where I know the bad guy is going to lose,” which is something that Dean said on a hunt a few years back that really seemed to resonate with you. That strange comfort that you always felt when it came to these movies started to click, make sense. This life — the hunting life, the bad guy losing wasn’t always a guarantee.

Horror movies was one of the initial things besides hunting that you and Dean had bonded over. It started out as going to one of your rooms when an All Saint’s Day marathon was on — lying in bed together binging on pizza, chips, soda, and beer. Then it evolved — evolved into asking one another if they wanted to watch a movie together because one of you couldn’t sleep in the middle of the night. It evolved yet again — evolved into date nights once a week.

Today was the day, it was yours and Dean’s date night. Not only was it date night, but it was your week to pick the movie the two of you were going to watch. When it came to horror movie date night, you and Dean always alternated when it came to picking what movies you were going to watch. Although you enjoyed the movies that he tended to pick during his weeks, he always went with the same couple of movies; such as All Saint’s Day 4: Hatchet Man Lives, All Saint’s Day 5: The Search for David Yaeger or Hell Razer’s II: The Reckoning. Although you loved all three movies (thankfully you were able to convince him to no longer pick Hell Razer’s II — and for obvious reasons when you two started dating), you wished he picked something different; and that’s why you always cherished the weeks you had gotten to pick, as you rarely picked the same two or three movies.

As you were in the kitchen preparing some of the food for date night, Dean walked in with a few grocery bags in hand and placed them onto the counter that you were prepping food on. Looking up at him, he gave you the biggest grin as he watched you chopping up food on the cutting board. “Smells good Sweetheart. Whatcha making?”

You continued to chop away, your movements with the knife getting a tad faster. “I found this recipe on Pinterest that I wanted to try. It’s like this horror themed soup dish.” You said, bringing the vegetables you just cut up and placed them into the pot behind you.

“What’s in it?” He asked as he started taking out the beer he had just gotten from the grocery store out of the grocery bags.

“Lots of vegetables,” you began, Dean’s face scrunching in slight disgust, “and of course meat.” His face relaxed. “Vegetables won’t kill you Dean. It wouldn’t kill you to eat some once in a while.”

“I’m a warrior Y/N. Warrior’s don’t eat vegetables.” He said, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“You know who else won’t eat their vegetables Dean?” You began. “Toddlers. Are you a toddler Dean?” As he opened up his mouth to speak you cut him off. “Don’t answer that.”

“So, what movie did you pick for us to watch tonight?” He asked, opening up another grocery bag — but this time it was filled with snacks.

“My Bloody Valentine,” you smiled as you started working on the meat portion of the soup.

“Which one? The eighties version or the newer version?” He asked, taking a seat on the bar stool in front of where you were currently working.

“You know which one.” You smirked.

Dean let out a small chuckle. “The newer one.” He clicked his tongue, taking a beer and opening it. “It’s cause you think that the main guy is hot.” He grinned. “Might have to ban us from watching that one like how you banned me from watching Hell Razer’s II.”

You eyed him, giving him a look. “To be fair, I never slept with the actor who plays Tom.” Dean audibly gulped at your comment, and his face dropped.

“Okay fair enough.” He said taking a sip of his beer.

Once finishing up the soup you made for the both of you, you placed it on a tray along with some garlic bread, and other assorted snacks and made your way to Dean and yours shared bedroom; something that you still couldn’t believe was actually a thing. Sharing a bedroom with him wasn’t relatively new — you’ve been sharing it with him for the past couple of months, but it still seemed so odd to you; because for a majority of the time you had been living at the Bunker, you had your own room.

Walking into the bedroom Dean was already under the covers and had a beer on both side tables: one for him and one for you. As soon as you walked in, you shut the door behind you and he looked away from the television, giving you the biggest smile. “Let me help you with that Sweetheart,” he said getting up from underneath the covers.

“I got it don’t worry.” You said as he made his way toward you.

Placing his hands on the tray he said, “I insist,” and he smiled a reassuring kind of smile.

“Okay, if you insist.” You said, removing your own hands from the tray so it was only him holding it. Before he walked away he leaned in and gave you a quick peck, almost forgetting that there was a tray of hot food between the two of you that was easily spillable.

“So I already have the movie set up on the title screen, and I’m already tired of seeing that Tom guy’s face.” Dean said, placing the tray of food down on the bed before getting underneath the covers.

“Is that jealousy I hear in your voice Dean?” You asked, smirking as you got under the covers yourself. He looked at you with a defensive look.

“Me? Jealous? Pfft. Please.” He said, his voice radiating jealousy. “That Tom guy has nothing on me.”

“Right. Totally not jealous.” You said, slightly sarcastic. “I’m gonna press play now.”

“Fire away.” His tone still jealous.

As the two of you were watching the movie, Dean couldn’t help but notice how happy you were to be watching it. Every so often when he looked over at you, your face was just radiating this type of joy — similarly to the way you would look at him; that’s when it started to hit him. He turned to you, and your eyes were completely glued to the screen. “You really love this movie don’t you?” He asked, this tone slightly curious.

You turned to look at him briefly, keeping that same kind of joyful smile on your face. “I really do. I don’t really know why. I mean, I like the eighties version too but…I don’t know. There’s just something I like more about this version for some reason.” You said, refocusing your attention back to the screen.

“You know, I think I might have a theory.” Dean said, and you turned back to him, curious about what he had to say.

“And what’s your theory?” You asked before taking the remote and pausing the movie.

"The main guy,” Dean began, pointing to the screen — thankfully you had paused at a part where there was a clear view of the main guy’s Tom’s face. “He looks exactly like me.” You looked at him with pure confusion. “What? You don’t think so?” Dean asked.

“I mean…” You sighed a little before doing a double take between looking at Dean and looking at the screen. “I don’t really see it.” You stated.

“You don’t…you don’t see it?” He asked, sounding as if he was a little disappointed. “I mean,” that’s when Dean got up from under the covers, almost knocking the tray completely over in the process and walked over to the television screen, “look. Look with your eyes.” Dean stood there, trying his best to create the same exact angle as Tom was in in the movie.

“Look with my eyes…what else would I be looking with?” you mumbled, slightly mocking his tone before rolling your eyes. “Okay, okay.” Getting up from the bed you walked over and stood barely a foot away from Dean and the television as you eyed them both, squinting every once in a while trying to see the resemblance. “I’m sorry babe. I don’t see it.”

Dean let out a frustrated groan. “Are you even looking?” He asked, his hands gesturing between himself and Tom. “We look exactly the same.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose closing your eyes for a moment. “Of course I’m fucking looking.” You said, clearly sounding frustrated. You looked up at him again. “I’m sorry babe, I’m just not seeing it.”

“How? You’re usually good at the whole similarities thing.” He said. “Like, like how we can basically watch anything and you can tell me how this random obscure actor was in this one thing you watched like 10 years ago.”

“Dean, as much as I love the compliment, that’s something completely different.” You told him. “Besides, I don’t think I’ve even seen this guy in any other than this. He’s…he’s kind of an obscure actor. Not really popular.”

Dean took a deep breath. As much as he had wanted to continue, to continue trying to convince you how much he did look like this guy, he decided to drop it…at least for now. “Fine.” He simply said.

“Fine?” You questioned. “Huh. Thought you’d have more fight than that hon.”

As soon as you said those words, you knew you had poked the bear. “I was going to drop it. Not now!” Dean said, his voice practically animated sounding.

You looked at him with pure confusion on your face. “Dean?”

“I know how we can settle this!” He said, pointing his finger at you.

“No.” You said.

He cocked a brow. “No?”

“You heard me,” you said, pointing your finger at him now. “No.”

“What do you mean no?” He asked, he sounded confused at your response.

“We aren’t getting Sammy involved.” You said, crossing your arms. You couldn’t believe you were having this ‘argument’ or ‘debate’ with him.

“Who said I was getting Sammy involved?” He sounded offended now.

“Whenever we’re arguing or debating, you always want to get Sammy involved as a neutral party.” You said, slightly defensive.

Dean scoffed. “You get him involved just as much as I do!” He almost yelled. You knew he was right. “Ha!” He pointed, like a child who thought that they were winning an argument.

You rolled your eyes. “Can’t believe you called me out like that.” You said, feigning hurt feelings.

“Aw Sweetheart,” he began, making his way toward you. He placed a hand on your cheek and looked down at you, giving you a gentle smile. “I’ll make it up to you.” He said, his voice calm.

“Hmm, and how are you going to do that?” You asked. Your own voice starting to become calm.

“Like this.” He started to lean down inches away from your lips, and you could smell a slight hint of beer on his breath. “As soon as we get this debate of ours settled,” he whispered before booping you on the nose.

You looked at him confused because he’s never done that to you before; you’ve only ever done that to him. “Did you just…boop me?” You asked, your voice matching the confused look.

“I sure did Sweetheart.” He grinned. “No wonder you do it so much, it’s actually kind of fun.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Dean Winchester?” He couldn’t help but laugh at your question.

“Come on Sweetheart, let’s go get Sammy.” He said before he started making his way out the bedroom. “Sammy!” He yelled.

“Dean!” You yelled, practically chasing after him down the hallway. “If I say I agree with you, will you not bother Sam?” You asked. “I kinda just want to get back to date night.”

Dean stopped dead in his tracks, and you almost slammed into him. “Shit.” He mumbled, turning around to look at you. “I’m ruining date night aren’t I?”

His facial expression that was once full of triumph quickly turned into hurt. “No, you’re not ruining date night Dean.” You reassured him. “It’s just…” you sighed. “I’ll tell you what. Let’s ask him tomorrow okay?”

He looked at you and you held out your hand ready to shake his. “Deal.” He said as the two of you shook on the compromise.

Later that night, as the two of you were lying in bed you couldn’t sleep. You couldn’t help but stare at the ceiling, looking at the crack in it that Dean has yet to fix. You let out a sigh and looked over at Dean who was sound asleep, softly snoring away lying on his stomach, his face in your direction.

Your hand instinctively touched his hair, almost pushing it back despite his hair not nearly being long enough to do that. But you did it anyway as you loved playing with his hair — the same way he loved playing with yours (although he would never admit it).

“Love when you do that,” Dean mumbled, his eyes still closed. “Can’t sleep Sweetheart?”

“Not really,” you admitted. “Just…just have a lot on my mind.”

“Want to talk about it?” He asked, his voice still slightly full of sleep.

“It’s just…” you sighed, hating what you were about to say as you were staring at his sleeping face — a face that you’ve examined so many times. “You were right.”

His eyes started to flutter open more, trying to get rid of the sleepiness. “Right about what?” He asked.

“About earlier.” You said; you couldn’t help but look at those green eyes of his, much similar in color to that of the actor who played Tom in the movie. “You…you look like the guy that plays Tom.”

A grin formed on his face at he looked at you. “What changed your mind Sweetheart?” You thought he’d be more excited about your admittance of him being right, but you guessed it was probably because he was still relatively half asleep.

“Just staring at your face.” You said. “God that sounds so freaking creepy.” You let out a small laugh.

“You’re hot, I’ll let it slide.” He joked. “So this means we don’t have to subject Sam to a horror movie tomorrow uh?”

“No. I think he’s safe for another week.” You let out a small laugh.

“Can I ask you something?” Dean was fully awake now.

“Anything.” You smiled, still playing with his hair.

“My theory before.” He said.

“That’s not a question Dean.” You said, he rolled his eyes.

“Was my theory right though? The reason you enjoy it so much is because I look like the guy?” He asked.

“Dean, I didn’t even realize you looked like him until like five minutes ago.” You said, a bit more sass than you had intended to have. “You know, what even brought you to that theory anyway?”

“Now it’s my turn to sound creepy,” he let out a small chuckle before continuing. “I was just staring at your face. The same way you looked at him is the exact same way you look at me.” He explained.

“You somehow made it less creepy.” You scoffed, slightly amused. “You know, I never realized I looked at you a certain way.” You cocked your head a bit to the side. “How do I look at you by the way?”

“Like I’m the hottest person that you’ve ever laid your eyes on.” He winked.

“Now that doesn’t seem right at all.” You teased. “You really do notice the small details uh?”

“Sure do.” He said. “Especially when they come to you.” You couldn’t help but smile softly as this comment. You leaned in and kissed him, the two of you smiling into it.

“I love you,” you whispered, unprompted.

“I love you too Sweetheart,” he said back.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @jackles010378 @syrma-sensei @k-slla @flory-alexandra If you'd like to be added to a tag list, let me know!

[callofdudes]

König x Autistic Reader headcanons

Just a little disclaimer that I myself am not autistic. I'm neurdivergent but I don't struggle with most of the things that autistic people do. So please feel free to let me know if something is incorrect. Only here to spread love. ♥️

Being the colonel, König heard about you from your previous commanding officer. You were being switched to KorTac on recommendation so he didn't think any less of you when he heard you were also autistic.

Not that he would if you weren't, but you had a pretty decent record to back your few years in the military.

He had less than a week to prepare before you'd be transfered, and he wanted to be as prepared for you as possible. He'd read as much as he could, trying to take everything in.

Of course, hearing that some things were different for different autistic users was a little anxiety inducing.

When he met you out off the helicopter, you had your headphones on, taking them off slowly when you got a comfortable distance from the spinning blades.

He noticed how you took them off slowly, letting yourself adjust a little to the noise out of the headphones before hanging them around your neck.

"Ah, sergeant. My name is König." König held out his gloved hand, which you seemed a little surprised at, but on a good way. And you shook his hand, recognizing his firm grip.

"Thank you..."

"Allow me to show you around before we talk business ja?"

You nodded hesitantly, slowly following him.

Your eyes moved everywhere, taking in the new environment. It was much different. All the new smells, the sounds, the surprise of it.

König was aware you would need proper introduction to the environment. The ins and outs, a clear schedule laid out before it happened. Which is what he would prepare you with. No doubt just chucking you into work would overwhelm you. As it would anyone.

He noticed the way your thumbs continually moved over the seam of your uniform in the same motion while you took everything in.

He laid out the usual schedule, reassuring you that you wouldn't have to adhere to their schedule so strictly until you were fully integrated.

It was nice, how smooth it felt. Unlike your first transition. Being thrown into boot camp with zilch for experience you knew it would be rough. But you're glad you don't ever have to do that again.

König made sure you were aware that you could come to him if you needed anything or if you had questions. He was an open book and willing to help.

At first he was very worried about how you'd react to his mask. He didn't know if you'd be ok with it or not? Would you be put off by it? Would it reassure you with so little detail on his face, not being able to see him.

But from how you reacted, clearly your first impressions of his gentle nature won you over instead of his daunting height and scary exterior.

You had been worried in the beginning that König was going to be like everyone else. But he was actually very gentle. He was quieter, unlike your previous superiors who seemed to be into yelling just because they could.

And König was gentle with you. Not like when you were first brought into the military. Now, to be fair, you had joined the military and they wanted soldiers one way or another. You hadn't expected to be pampered right out of the gate. But he approached you in a way that settled you in.

König was usually very aware of what he was doing, because of his height and his position, every move was in his thoughts. And with you that was no different.

"Hey... Y/n, I know the canteen is pretty busy today, so I figured I'd just bring you a plate here." He smiles a little under the hood, wondering if you'd appreciate the gesture or get mad at him because you thought he was treating you as weak.

To his relief, you smiled softly. "Oh, König-" you pause when you saw the plate. König had always noticed you much preferred some food over others, and you always organized them in specific ways. And it was just like that, your plate perfect to your autistic eye.

You wouldn't have to spend ten minutes of precious food time reordering and sorting.

"Thank you König, thank you."

König always did his best to help you. But of course, there was only so much he could do to help. Even in simple training, you were sometimes allowed to have your headphones on, but there was always that time when you weren't.

When könig would clearly see you getting overwhelmed from smells, sounds, and strenuous activity you were faced with.

König is always an extended arm, but was nervous to help you if you didn't want it. So when you showed up in his office, clearly something wrong he wasn't sure what to do.

You just stood in the doorway, clutching the hem of your shirt, your throat feeling tight. You couldn't move, just on the brink of completely exploding in tears.

König slowly stood, approaching you gently. "Y/n..?" He reached out to touch you, slowly, giving you a moment to pull away if you wanted. But you didn't. His hand touching your cheek, cupping your face.

"You're doing amazing..."

Tears fell down your cheeks and you whimpered, leaning against him. He gently wrapping his other arm around you. Warming you, slowly rubbing your back in consistent circles.

"I'm here. I'm here y/n."

König soon became used to knowing every little motion to you. Your hands tensing, trying to stim with them, struggling with verbal communication in stressful situations, or at all. Getting the words in your head out verbally usually a struggle.

Whenever you needed him, he'd be there. On missions when stuck in a stake out, he would give you his backpack that hopefully it would provide enough weight when he took watch; so you could sleep with minimal anxiety.

But König knew, and he was patient.

König who let's you stim with the Velcro straps on his gear and uniform whenever you needed it.

You two were sitting in the cargo plane, könig could feel you staring into him. Your hand moved a little, and he looked at you. "Y/n??"

"König... Can I..?" You reached your hand for his belt, and he understood. Pulling the Velcro from his belt and moving it to your hand. "Yeah, go ahead."

You nod, pushing the Velcro apart and then slowly pulling it open. Listening to the sound and the slow tear. And the patch on his bicep, listening to it slowly peal apart and then sticking it evenly back on.

König sat there still, letting you stim. "Feeling a bit better?"

You nod a little. "Yeah... Thank you."

He hums, smiling softly. He let's you play with the Velcro for the remainder of the flight, not minding you gently stimming with his gear. It's calming for him in a way as well.

When you were on base, you one time asked for him to lay on you, and he was genuinely afraid he'd hurt you.

"Y/n... I believe I am a tad too heavy. I can get you something else-?"

"No König. Crush me. Crush me like my soul... Suffocate me into happiness.."

"Woah... Alright then."

You laid on your back with your arms flat open invitingly. And so König laid across you, wrapping his arms around your waist and placing his palms up between your shoulder blades.

You sighed happily as he squeezed the oxygen out of you, pushing you down into the blanket. He was warm, his smell was familiar.

"Perfect..."

König who asks if you have any favorite scents from back home, or any in general. The ones he likes he gets you scented candles so you can put them in your office and room for comfort.

König who buys you a white noise machine and sends you audio files of crickets and whales.

And your hyperfixations. Oh König loves them. He loves listening to you talking his ear off. He doesn't talk a whole lot and enjoys the silence, so having you who dominates the conversation, but not in a way where he feels overstepped or ignored. It's nice.

He loves hearing about all the lore and the background for your liking said thing.

And he even decided to try sharing an interest of his to you. Nature documentaries! König was happy when you gave it a try. If you can sit still through all of it, great! If you can't, he'll probably dig out a fidget toy or grabs something nearly you can use.

Gets rubix cubes from Horangi to see if you like it and want it. Found out what a fidget spinner is and got you one too.

When you told him you were nervous of what the others would think of you carrying one around base, König made the bold decision to carry one too. "Hey, how about we both carry one? So then you're not alone, and they won't think you're weird!"

König is very protective of him. You're like his kid! But in a cool way, not a demeaning way. He wants to take care of you and protect you as best he can. He wants you to know he's got your back.

He's there when you need someone to lay on, or to be laid on. He's there when you need someone who will just cup your ears and tell you to focus on him.

He's there when you need someone to wipe those tears and hold you close to a warm, welcoming body of a close friend.

Because he's your friend, and he cares so much for you. He's definitely still learning, and still trying, but damn it if he wouldn't do anything it takes for you.