#you were just not cared for as a child and made to feel that was your fault

[sunni-stuff]

People are judgmental. Some think they aren't, others don't mean to be, and then there are those who do it on purpose and simply don't care.

Parents are guilty of this.

Parents who pay you to teach their kids do this.

But the worst offenders?

Wives. 

Particularly those with too much free time—gossiping Gertrude's who'd rather nitpick and judge than deal with the boredom of daytime TV and their kids screaming in the background. You’ve dealt with a handful before—a crack in the system that always rippled right under your skin whenever one of those vultures threw out a backhanded compliment.  

“You’re so patient with the kids. I could never do what you do—how do you even manage?”  

“Must be nice having all that time off during the summer. A little vacation every year, huh?”  

“Teaching must be so rewarding. Though I imagine it’s not really about the money, is it?”  

Each one, a subtle dig disguised as flattery, like they couldn’t help but twist the knife just a little deeper. 

If there was one thing you’d learned about this job, it was to always kill them with kindness. The rumor mill among parents was ruthless, and the wrong rumor could ripple out and jeopardize your career. So, you’d mastered the art of the polite smile, the well-timed thank you, and the effortless small talk. It was a strategy that had served you well, keeping any overly curious mothers at bay.

Still, these women were relentless. They circled like hawks, always looking for an opening to pry into your life or make veiled comments about your parenting. You’d never given them the satisfaction of slipping up—until the day you almost did.

The sun was setting, the air brisk and tinged with the promise of winter as parents gathered their children. Little voices chattered away as teachers handed over day charts, neatly summarizing each child’s activities. Standing at the cubbies, you were bundling up Adira. Her small frame was snug in her sweater, jacket zipped up to her chin, and scarf tucked securely around her neck. She fidgeted as you worked, barely able to stay still with how much excitement bubbled in her tiny frame.

Her voice was high-pitched and animated as she launched into a story, her words tumbling over each other in her eagerness to share. “Messy man said, we play trains when he comes back!” she chirped, her dark eyes wide with delight.

You paused, your fingers lingering on the last button of her jacket. A soft smile tugged at your lips as you straightened her scarf. “Oh, did he now?”

Adira nodded vigorously, her curls bouncing. “Yep! He said, “Adira, we make the best train track ever!” Her imitation of Simon’s deep voice was laughably exaggerated, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.” We gonna play with the biiig track!” She spread her arms wide for emphasis, nearly toppling over from the effort.

The mention of Simon was enough to draw some attention from the other parents nearby. You could feel their eyes darting your way, their curiosity almost palpable. Simon’s occasional appearances to pick up Adira hadn’t gone unnoticed, and the whispers had already started. Who was this tall, broad man with a thick accent? Was he Adira’s father? A boyfriend? The air was thick with silent speculation.

Ignoring the countless eyes and ears listening in on your harmless conversation, you assured Adira. “Well, if messy man promised, he’ll keep it,” Simon had made it clear that he intended to be a constant presence in Adira’s life, and so far, he’d stuck to his word.

As you stood and picked up her small bag, a sharp voice interrupted the moment.

"Well, aren’t you just the picture-perfect little family?”

Your polite smile returned instantly, masking the irritation that flared at the condescending tone. Turning, you saw one of the daycare moms—Linda, if you remembered correctly—standing there with her perfectly manicured nails wrapped around her designer purse. Her son trailed behind her, nose buried in a tablet.

“Evening, Linda,” you said evenly, keeping your tone light. “How’s Ethan doing?

She waved a dismissive hand, her eyes already scanning Adira with that overly curious gaze that made your skin crawl. “Oh, he’s fine. But I couldn’t help overhearing... this ‘Messy man’ your little one mentioned. Is he... new in your life?”

Ah, there it was—the opening she was fishing for. 

Adira, oblivious to the undercurrents of adult conversation, grinned up at Linda uncharacteristically, the joy she felt for Simon completely expunging her normal glaring behavior. “Messy man makes pancakes! But they go splat!” She threw her hands out dramatically, mimicking the chaos Simon often caused in the kitchen.

Goddammit, poor Adira revealed too much to the wrong person, and you could already see the cogs turning in Linda's head. Forcing a chuckle, you reached for Adira’s hand. “Messy man is her nickname for Simon, her dad. He’s stationed overseas, so she gets pretty excited when he’s home.”

Linda’s perfectly arched eyebrow lifted slightly, clearly surprised. “Oh, I see. Military man, huh? I suppose that explains why we’ve never seen him around.”

You gave Linda your most neutral expression, taking notice of the other moms matching from behind her. “He’s been busy, but he’s doing his best to be here when he can.”

"Oh, I see. I simply would've never guessed you were married. You never wear a ring," Linda remarked, her tone dripping with subtle judgment.

You knew what she was doing. It was a carefully laid trap, baited to catch you in a corner. If you rebuffed her comment, if you made a scene, it would only give her more ammunition to spread rumors. These women didn’t care for nuances; they thrived on gossip, and the topic of marriage—or rather, the lack of a visible wedding ring—would be a field day for them. They’d ride that horse straight to hell, and you'd be left cleaning up the mess.

With the growing number of parents in earshot, you understood that this wasn’t just a comment; it was a test. You had to choose your words carefully. It wasn’t just about keeping things smooth in the moment—it was about protecting your future.

You gave a small, practiced smile, maintaining your composure as you slipped Adira’s bag onto your shoulder. “I don’t wear my ring because I work with children. It could get caught in their hair, or worse, I could lose it.” You met her gaze with a calm confidence that bordered on dismissive.

“That’s understandable, dear. We all have kids after all!” Lina laughed, her tone attempting to sound warm and genuine, but it was too polished, too forced. The laughter rang hollow, like a poorly executed attempt to mask her true intentions. “Does this mean we’ll finally get to meet him at the fundraiser this weekend? We’ve all been here for so long, and not a single glimpse of your beloved other half. Right, ladies?”

Her words floated in the air, sharp with insinuation. The smile she wore was one of practiced sweetness, but the glint in her eyes was anything but kind. She knew what she was doing—attempting to pull you further into her web, hoping to get a reaction that would either reveal more or, better yet, give her ammunition to fuel the rumors she clearly wanted to start.

A few of the other women murmured in agreement, their eyes flicking from you to each other, already whispering amongst themselves. They were all waiting for a response, and the pressure began to build in the pit of your stomach.

“Yes, he is.” The words slipped out of your mouth before you could even process them, your own response surprising you as much as it did the group of wives surrounding you. You felt a jolt in your chest, your heart picking up pace as the reality of what you had just said began to sink in. What the fuck did you just do?

The laughter from Linda faltered for a split second, her eyes narrowing slightly as she processed your words. The others exchanged glances, some of their faces lighting up with an almost predatory curiosity, while others masked their thoughts behind polite smiles. You could almost hear the gears turning in their heads—oh, this was going to be something they could use.

The tension in the air thickened, and you suddenly felt exposed, as if every secret you’d carefully kept tucked away was now dangling on the edge of a cliff. You’d just handed them the perfect piece of gossip, but what would it lead to? Would they use it against you, twist it into something worse? You hadn’t planned for any of this—hell, you hadn't even planned on saying anything at all—but now that it was out there, you had to somehow steer this conversation. 

You had to control the narrative, or risk letting it spiral completely out of your hands. 

Your mind races, trying to formulate a response, but everything seems so loud—your thoughts, the laughter, the eyes watching you. How could you backpedal without it seeming like a lie? How could you walk that fine line between the truth and keeping your personal life hidden?

"Yes, Simon’s coming," you added quickly, trying to steady your breath. "But, you know... he’s not really into the whole fundraiser thing. He’s more of a stay-at-home guy, a bit of a quiet one, really. I’ll be there though, and we’re looking forward to it." You tried to sound casual, but the flicker of doubt in your voice betrayed you. 

The women around you didn’t miss a beat, though. The moment had been set, and now it was only a matter of what they would do with the information. 

“Well, I look forward to seeing you.” Lina’s voice was dripping with a false sweetness, and you could feel the weight of her gaze as she gave you one last look. Her eyes lingered a bit longer than necessary, as if trying to peel back layers, searching for some crack to exploit. Then, with a nod, she steered Ethan away, her entourage of women following closely behind, their chatter rising in the air like a distant murmur. The click of their heels echoed as they disappeared down the hall, leaving you standing there, frozen in place.

"And so, that's what happened," you finished, your voice trailing off as you leaned against the kitchen counter, trying to gauge Simon's reaction.

Simon blinked up at you from where he was sitting on the floor, his focus still mostly on Adira, who was happily arranging her toy train with her blocks, making a makeshift kingdom. He didn’t seem phased, just a little confused. "You want me to pretend to be your husband?"

The question hung in the air for a moment before he let out a chuckle, shaking his head slightly, his eyes filled with that familiar warmth. "Out of all the things I've done in my life, this has to be the funniest, love.”

You blinked, momentarily thrown by the unexpected nickname. It felt oddly intimate, a shift in the dynamic between you and Simon that you hadn’t anticipated. Love. It wasn't what you'd expected to hear from him, not in this context, not when everything felt so messy and uncertain. But there it was, slipping out so naturally from him, like he'd always called you that, like he'd been in your life much longer than he really had.

Your heart skipped a beat, the sound of Adira’s laughter in the background making the moment feel surreal. It should have been funny—this whole situation, with you essentially asking Simon to pretend to be your husband for the sake of those gossiping women. But instead, you felt something else, something soft and unfamiliar tightening in your chest.

“Did you just call me that?” You couldn't help but ask, your voice a little quieter than you intended.

Simon paused, his playful smile faltering for a second as he caught the look on your face. “I—yeah, I guess I did,” he replied, his tone a touch more uncertain now. He glanced down at Adira, who was happily stacking blocks at his feet, then back to you. “It was just a slip of the tongue. Didn’t mean anything weird by it.”

“I’m not exactly husband material, you know,” he added lightly, his voice teasing. “I’m more of a... messy man.”

You chuckled at that, shaking your head. "A messy man, huh?"

He nodded, grinning. “Yeah, but I’m good at it. Just ask Adira.”

Adira, hearing her name, immediately let out a squeal of approval. “Messy man!” she giggled, throwing a block in Simon’s direction, her tiny hand pointing at him with delight.

"So, what's the plan here then?" That easy grin back on his face, his eyes still dancing with humor, but there was something underneath it—something you couldn’t quite place. “You want me to just walk into a room and act like we’re a picture-perfect couple?”

The way he said it made you laugh a little, though there was a slight edge of uncertainty to it. You found yourself shifting uncomfortably, knowing you had no real plan for what came next. It wasn’t like you had a relationship with Simon beyond the occasional dinner and time spent with Adira, and yet, here you were, asking him to play a role in your life, one that might end up blurring lines you didn’t fully understand.

“Well, you don’t have to pretend, exactly,” you said, running a hand through your hair, suddenly feeling all the weight of the day settling in. “I just... I just need you to be there. You know, to back me up, to—” You paused, glancing over at Simon again. “I guess I just don’t want them thinking I’m alone in all of this. It’s bad enough that has already started.”

Simon’s gaze softened as he leaned back in his seat, watching you with a quiet understanding. "You're not alone in this," he said, his voice steady. “And I’m here. You don’t need a ring or a title for that.”

The sincerity in his tone made your chest tighten again, but this time it was different. His words weren’t a joke or a half-hearted attempt to make you feel better—they were real. He was offering something more than just pretending for the sake of others. He was offering his presence, his support.

For a moment, you forgot about everything else. The plans, the expectations, the pressure. Instead, all that mattered was Simon sitting across from you, smiling at you like you weren't asking for something too much, like it wasn’t strange to think of him in your life like this.

“Thank you,” you murmured. "Really."

He gave a small nod, then grinned, shifting his attention back to Adira, who had managed to get half the blocks stacked to an impressive height. “It’s nothing. Besides, I think Adira’s got the best part of this deal anyway.”

You glanced over at your daughter, who was watching both of you with wide eyes, a smile tugging at her lips. Adira was your source of strength, a beacon that pushed you forward, her smile alone gave you determination.  “Alright, let’s figure out what married people do.”

"I know just who to call." Simon reached for his phone, the battered thing covered in scratches, an old case and sporting a broken screen from a hazardous drop. Upon seeing it, the first thought running through your head was, how the fuck was it still usable?

Price’s living room radiated warmth and history, a perfect mix of domestic coziness and military precision. The centerpiece was a sturdy stone fireplace, its mantle adorned with framed photos of Price and his wife, Melanie. In some, they stood arm in arm at scenic locations; in others, Price was in uniform, the edges of his cap sharp against the backdrop of distant skies. Above the fireplace hung a shadow box displaying medals and insignias, each one polished to a shine, speaking volumes about his service.

Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with everything from military strategy texts to well-worn novels. On one shelf sat a small globe and a model of a Spitfire plane, a nod to his admiration for history. A comfortable, overstuffed armchair, complete with a folded tartan blanket, sat near the fire. The coffee table bore faint scratches, evidence of years of use, and atop it lay an open newspaper, a mug of tea, and a small dish of biscuits.

You sat stiffly on the plush sofa, feeling distinctly out of place amidst this blend of home and honor. The ticking of a grandfather clock in the corner filled the silence as you watched Simon talk to Price in the adjoining kitchen. Occasionally, their eyes flicked toward you, and you pretended not to notice, your gaze wandering instead to a black-and-white photo of a younger Price standing with a group of soldiers, all grinning ear to ear.

The awkwardness of the situation weighed on you like a heavy blanket. This wasn’t exactly how you envisioned your day—asking Price, of all people, to help stage your fake relationship. But you were in too deep now to back out.

In the kitchen, Price rubbed his hand over his mouth, barely concealing the grin that tugged at his lips. A low chuckle escaped as he grabbed a cup of coffee, shaking his head at Simon, who stood across from him, arms folded, his expression far more serious than the moment warranted.

“You want me and Mel to help you two seem like a couple? That right?” Price’s voice carried an unmistakable note of amusement, his words tinged with disbelief.

Simon shifted his weight, rolling his shoulders back, clearly trying to maintain some semblance of dignity. "Yes, that’s the gist of it."

Price’s laughter broke free, a warm, hearty sound that echoed off the kitchen tiles. “Bloody hell, Simon. You’ve seen action all over the world, but this—this is what’s got you nervous?” He clapped a hand on Simon’s shoulder, his grin wide enough to light the room. “You’re in for a treat, mate. Melanie’s going to love this.”

From your seat, you caught Price’s amused glance, and you couldn’t help the way your face heated. This was going to be a long evening.

Price, still chuckling, crossed the room to the wide bay window, pushing it open with ease. The crisp evening air drifted in, carrying with it the scent of freshly cut grass and the faint hum of distant crickets. He leaned out slightly, cupping his hands around his mouth.

“Mel! Come on inside, love. You’ve got to hear this one,” he called, his voice carrying easily over the quiet of their backyard.

From where you sat, you caught a glimpse of Melanie in the garden. She was tending to a neat row of vibrant flowers, her hands gloved and a straw hat perched on her head. At the sound of Price’s voice, she straightened up, brushing dirt off her knees with a curious look on her face.

“Be right there!” she replied, her voice warm and lilting. She removed her gloves, tucking them into her apron pocket as she began making her way toward the house.

Price turned back to Simon, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “You better hope Mel doesn’t laugh you out of the house, mate.”

Simon groaned softly, rubbing his temples. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Price.”

Moments later, Melanie stepped into the living room, a radiant smile lighting up her face. She was the epitome of grace, her presence immediately softening the room’s atmosphere. Her gaze shifted between you, Simon, and her husband, her curiosity evident.

“What’s all this about, then?” she asked, removing her hat and setting it on a nearby chair. “You’ve got that mischievous look again, John.”

Price grinned, gesturing toward you and Simon. “These two need a favor, Mel. A big one.”

Melanie’s brows lifted as she looked between the two of you. “Oh? Do tell.”

Simon, looking equal parts determined and mortified, cleared his throat. “We... need help convincing a group of nosy parents that we’re married. Long story.”

Melanie’s smile widened as her eyes twinkled with amusement. “Oh, this sounds rich. Go on, I’m listening.”

You shifted in your seat, feeling the warmth of Melanie’s gaze settle on you. Her smile was kind but tinged with unmistakable amusement, and it was clear she was holding back a laugh as she took in your flustered state.

“Well,” you began hesitantly, clasping your hands together in your lap. “It’s a bit of a mess, really. One of the moms at the daycare cornered me, started asking questions about Simon, and… I might’ve let it slip that we’re married. Which we’re not. Obviously.” Your words tumbled out in a rush, and you glanced at Simon for backup. He was rubbing the back of his neck, caught between exasperation and amusement.

Melanie let out a soft laugh and gracefully sat down beside you on the couch. “Ah, I see. And now you need to sell the story before it falls apart. Oh, love, I’ve been in a similar pickle—not quite like this, but close enough.”

“See?” Price chimed in from his armchair, leaning back with an amused grin. “Told you Mel would get a kick out of this.”

Simon shot him a flat look. “Not exactly the reaction I was hoping for, mate.”

Melanie waved a dismissive hand at Price before patting your knee in a reassuring gesture. “Don’t mind him. Now, let’s think this through. If you’re going to convince anyone, you need to act the part. People pick up on the smallest details—how you talk to each other, how comfortable you seem together. If you’re too stiff, they’ll see right through it.”

Simon leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as he nodded. “Alright, so what do we need to do? We’ve got about a week before the fundraiser, so I’m open to ideas.”

Melanie’s eyes lit up with a mix of mischief and determination. “Perfect. We’ll start with body language—how you interact without saying a word. And then we’ll move on to the conversational stuff. You’ll need to know each other’s habits, quirks, and all those little details married couples just know.”

Price clapped his hands together with mock enthusiasm, a cheeky grin plastered across his face. “Right, then. Let the awkward training sessions begin. This’ll be one for the books.”

You groaned inwardly, glancing between Simon and Melanie. This bizarre charade was only just beginning, and while you couldn’t imagine where it would lead, one thing was clear—you were in for a wild ride.

Happy new years friends! The holidays were a riot and I spent most of it spending time with family instead of writing as I felt kind of burnt out from writing in November, sorry about that but I hope this makes up for it.

-

@midnight-blue-moon-princess @pipedream411 @frogofrg @loonagabs @ghostlythots @vixenshiftsvrs @devoetee @shorty-tolentino @aethelwyneleigh27 @ayesha-eroticax3 @emilia527 @danielle143 @maniacalbooper @awildewit @gifted-aurora @teenagellamaangel @julesjunimos @tacticalgirlboss @midnights-song @suzuki-18 @t3a-bag @latencygirl @krispymagazinepizza-blog @harperdoodle @odettecigno @sockertop @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovelystarfish @my-little-evil-blog @imastorytelleritsondvd @l1lpip @cringeycookies @identity2212 @balletbiscuit @mulletmcghee @maciswack @littleracco0n @oliver-1270 @weemansoap @cryingpages @connorsui @beebeechaos @gluttonybiscuits @strawberrygato @sozainturpal @echo9821 @blinca @illusionistlover @blubearxy @superficialfeelings @new-author3 @xanvasy @oniiloma @bankaixx @evie-199 @notsochillnerd @thatpersonnamedrook @hon3y-cloud @jaguarthecat @reinekoya @apixasflora @a-lovers-card @gloriousloveduck @aetherthetrashpanda @princess-vibes25 @vickykazuya @enfppuff @liliannamae @m0chac0ffee @flamehero-phoenix @bean-cream @realizemandi97 @almostdecadentstarfish @lunamoonbby

[sturnsbae]

SPIN YOU AROUND - JACK HUGHES

summary: you and jack have been best friends since childhood. you’ve both always had suppressed feelings for one another, but when you suddenly become a country music fan, he finds his chance to actually confess.

warnings: use of y/n & underage drinking, not proofread sorry if there’s typos or mistakes :)

wordcount: 3.4k

—

for as long as you can remember, you’ve been best friends with the hughes brothers.

your moms were best friends in high school, and they always talked about their kids being friends growing up. your mom only ended up having one child, but it worked out perfectly seeing that she had a girl and ellen had three boys. despite her best friend playing it, your mom never cared much for hockey. but ellen made sure to have her sons teach you how to skate and how to understand the game. this led to your winter breaks always being spent playing pond hockey in a 2v2 game against the boys, which you wouldn’t have changed for the world.

you and jack are the same age, and this always made you two closer. maybe it was because you two somehow always ended up with the same elementary school teachers, or the fact that you two have the exact same humor, or maybe the fact that you guys have always had mutual friends. It doesn’t matter; he was your best friend, and you were his. although, you both took very different routes when you turned 18. he went straight to the nhl while you began college at penn state. you’re nineteen now, and so is jack. it’s finally the summer after your first semester, and you haven’t seen the boys since winter break.

as you and your parents enter the front door of your guys’ shared lake house, you smile at the familiar smell of ellen’s homemade cookies. “god it smells good in here!” you exclaim, making your presence known. “hey! you guys made it!” quinn smiles as he walks over from the dining room table towards you guys. being the gentleman that he is, he embraces your mother in a hug before anyone. luke quickly jumps off of the couch and runs over, picking you up slightly as he embraces you in a warm hug. your laughter fills the room as luke puts you down back on your feet.

“i swear, you get taller every time i see you,” you chuckle, making luke roll his eyes with a smile.

“maybe you’re just shrinking, y/n,” he shrugs before walking over to hug your parents. quinn walks over to you with a smile and gently hugs you, unlike his youngest brother. you say your hellos to jim and ellen as your dad and quinn bring in the suitcases. you furrow your brows and turn to luke, “where’s jack?” you ask.

“i think he’s in the shower, he should be out soon though,” luke shrugs before looking back down at his phone with a smile. of course, he’s probably texting a girl from school. you chuckle to yourself before walking to your room to settle in. as you walk past the shared bathroom between you, jack, and luke, you hear the shower running and muffled country music playing through the door.

you begin unpacking your suitcase, your door left open just slightly enough so that you can see the hallway. as you’re unfolding clothes, the sound of the bathroom door opening catches your attention. you look up and see jack walking out of the bathroom with just a towel around his waist. clearly, he has no idea that you’re home yet.

you can’t help but stare for a second… when did his back muscles get so toned?

you immediately shake your thoughts and continue unfolding your clothes. about three or so minutes later, there’s a gentle knock on the door. you look up and see jack in the door frame with his usual smirk-like smile.

“thought you could come home and not say hi to me?” he questions, making you roll your eyes and jump off the bed to wrap the boy in a hug. his arms wrap your smaller frame in a tight hug, his body still damp from the shower and the smell of his body wash emitting off of him.

“how’ve you been, dork?” he asks, walking in your room and sprawling out on your bed. you sit down criss cross by his feet, organizing your bikini tops to their matching bottoms.

“i’ve been good! how’s the nhl life?” you tease.

“eh, i’ve been playing alright. i’m kinda offended you haven’t been to a game since my debut, though,” he jokes, raising one eyebrow.

you groan in response, “i know, im sorry. schools been so insane. i have so much to do for my sorority, i have like a million sporting events to go to, and i have so many tests too… i just haven’t found the time. next season ill be at more games, i promise” you smile.

“hey, it’s okay, i’m just messing with you, y/n/n. i know you’re a busy girl, being all studious or whatever,” he chuckles before looking down at his phone. you two then sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes as you finish unpacking.

—

you’ve done a lot of catching up with ellen and jim, all 8 of you sitting in the living room discussing the causal things. your mom and ellen spill their adult-life gossip, as if they don’t talk every day and meet for lunch once a week, while your dads talk about god knows what. you and quinn chirp luke about whoever he’s been texting, while jack is more focused on whatever video game he’s playing on his phone.

“jack, do you think you could go get us some pizza for dinner?” ellen asks, the room going quiet and the attention now falling onto jack.

“ugh, why can’t quinn go!” jack questions. ellen laughs, “you’re the one who insisted on bringing your jeep! you brought your car, which you never let anyone else drive, so now you have the duties of getting us dinner.”

“fine,” he groans before turning to look at you, a hopeful look in his eyes. you sigh loudly and stand up dramatically, “fine, i’ll come with you.” he grins cheesily as he grabs his keys and twirls them in his fingers on the way out to his car.

“can i have aux, pleaseeee,” you beg, making your hands look like you’re praying and giving him puppy dog eyes. he rolls his eyes and hands you his phone, “no stupid shit or ill take it back.”

jack is a country guy through and through, which you’ve never really gotten into, so you two tend to fight a lot about music. of course there are some songs and genres that you two both like, but when you put on some morgan wallen, jack looks at you like you just told him you killed someone.

“what the fuck? you- you’re- you’re willingly playing country music?!” he exclaims as he turns to look at you with a shocked expression. you have a shit eating grin on your face, “yeah, my roommate actually got me into it. i don’t know how, but she did.”

jack feigns a look of sadness, “oh, so some random girl you meet at college can get you into country, but the kid who’s been trying to get you to listen to it for like 12 years can’t?!”

you throw your head back laughing, “hey! in my defense, i was never stuck in a small room for an entire semester of college with you. of course i got her into some taylor swift though, don’t you worry. it’s only fair,” you shrug. he rolls his eyes at you jokingly before mumbling something about how you’re a fake friend, causing you to hit his arm playfully.

—

after dinner passes and the parents settle in for a movie night, you and the boys head outside for the annual first-night fire pit and beers, which started when you and jack were about 17. you and jack grab the s’mores ingredients while luke and quinn set up the fire pit. you take your seat around the fire, with luke and quinn sat across from you and jack on your right. quinn then hands everyone, even luke, a beer, making you chuckle.

“aww, lukeys first beer at the fire pit with us,” you fawn, making everyone laugh. “okay okay shut up,” the younger boy groans, his cheeks turning faintly florid with embarrassment.

“so, mrs party girl, tell us how college has been,” quinn says, roasting his marshmallow to perfection. you blush faintly at the sudden attention, humming a little as you think of what to start with. “well, my sorority is great. i love my roommate too, she’s like my best friend now. no offense jack, you’re still important i swear,” you chuckle, turning to look at jack. he flips you off before letting you continue to talk about your first semester.

“oh and, this shook jack to his core, but my roommate got me into country music. i don’t know how, im seriously convinced she put a spell on me or something, but she succeeded.”

luke’s eyes widen, “you like country now?! you used to swear up and down that you hated it!” he exclaims.

“i know! i know, but somehow she got me into it. or well, at least morgan wallen, that’s it. some country artists music i still can’t stand, i promise,” you laugh.

“i feel like this deserves a toast or something, because now we can finally listen to country on the boat without any complaints from her,” jack teases. everyone holds up their beer and takes a sip, before continuing on with the conversation. about an hour passes and the sun is completely down as you all still laugh loudly, faces illuminated by the orange glow of the fire.

you yawn, snuggling further into your sweatshirt. which is actually one of jacks old sweatshirts from high school. the logo is somewhat faded and cracked now due to how often you wear it, but he doesn’t need to know that. “you tired?” jack asks you, leaning over his chair slightly to talk to you.

you nod slowly, a telltale sign that you’re about to fall asleep. he sets down his beer and stands up, reaching out his hands for you to grab. you sigh and take his hands in yours as he helps you up. “i’m gonna take this one to bed. i can tell she’s had too many beers,” he chuckles.

“i have not!” you protest, your worlds slurred ever so slightly. jack just chuckles and walks you inside as quinn and luke are left to clean up the mess.

“they’re bound to get together one day, right?” luke asks his eldest brother.

“man, i hope so. im tired of this whole, ‘she’s just my best friend’ act. dude is whipped,” quinn shrugs. meanwhile, jack is sitting on the bathroom counter while you take off your makeup.

“you what?!” he exclaims.

“i kissed a random frat guy at a mixer with my sorority. it’s not that big of a deal jack!” you laugh, and jack just shakes his head. honestly, he would be lying if this didn’t make him feel oddly jealous. he’s so used to always knowing the guys that are involved in your love life. like for example, he was there during the alcohol induced game of truth or dare where you were dared to kiss trevor. you guys were 16 and drunk, so of course it never bothered jack. but now, he feels a weird pang of jealousy knowing that you’ve kissed another guy and he’s never even met him.

despite the fact that you’ve never talked to the frat guy since the kiss happened, jack still finds himself laying in bed scrolling through his instagram. “jesus christ, why don’t my abs look like that?” he mumbles to himself, quickly realizing how dumb he must seem right now. he puts his phone down and sighs.

this is gonna be a long summer.

—

the next morning is filled with laughter as the parents cook up breakfast, while you and the boys sit at the table with a deck of cards, playing your favorite game, BS.

“bs!” you call out as quinn puts down his alleged ‘two-fours,’ which you know is false because you literally have three fours in your stack. he groans in defeat as he takes the pile of cards, “you’re too good at this game. it’s no fun playing with you,” he whines, making everyone laugh.

“maybe you’re just a shit liar,” you shrug. as if on queue, the food is placed down in front of you guys as the parents take their seats. you all make your plates, of course the boys grab the most out of everyone. you chuckle looking at the two pancakes and two pieces of bacon on your plate, compared to jacks which has four pancakes and five pieces of bacon, along with a heavy stack of scrambled eggs.

“greedy much?” you chuckle, nudging jack slightly. he flips you off as he stuffs his face with food. a muffled, “i’m a growing boy, i can’t help it!” falls from his lips, making everyone chuckle.

after breakfast is finished, your guys’ parents go out for the day, leaving you all to fend for yourselves for entertainment. quinn suggests going out on the boat for the day, which you all agree with. you head upstairs to your room, slipping on your favorite bikini and grabbing a sweatshirt and sunglasses. you grab a book just incase, but you know that you’re definitely not gonna end up reading it.

“hurry up, y/n!” luke yells, making you groan in annoyance as you close the bedroom door.

“shut up luke, im coming i’m coming,” you say as you walk down the steps. you and luke walk side by side to the dock, where jack and quinn are getting the boat prepared. jack, per usual, demands that he get aux, and you all know better than to argue with him about it.

he queues up his country playlist, as expected. you chuckle a little as you hum a long to a few songs while quinn slowly exits the no-wake zone. about three minutes or so later, quinn speeds up the boat and your hair is flying. laughter escapes your lips as you look over at jack, who’s sitting next to you. “god i’ve missed this!” you say, making him smile and wrap an arm around you slightly.

he rests his head on top of yours, “i’ve missed you,” he says. this type of behavior is normal for you two, so quinn and luke don’t even bat an eyelash.

you guys come to a slow stop before luke throws the large tube out onto the water. him and jack get on it and grab the handles, laying down on their stomachs waiting for quinn to speed up. “everyone ready?” quinn asks, earning a “hell yeah!” and a “hurry up!” from the two boys. he looks at you and nods before speeding up. suddenly, the raft goes flying and they last a whopping twenty seconds before they both let go and belly flop into the water. you and quinn erupt into a fit of laughter, grabbing your stomachs in pain and wiping the tears that are falling.

“holy shit, are you guys okay?!” you ask, still calming your laughter as they climb back onto the boat. jack groans slightly as he rubs his now red stomach, giving you a perfect excuse to stare. you bite the inside of your cheek as he rubs up and down his abs with his hand in an attempt to soothe the pain, blissfully unaware that his entire vline is showing. he fixes his shorts and you quickly look away after you realize you’re staring, and thankfully he doesn’t notice.

“your turn y/n!” he smiles menacingly, and you quickly shake your head.

“absolutely not! personally, i don’t have a death wish today, thanks though!” you exclaim, immediately grabbing your book from your bag. “you’re so lame y/n,” he pouts before sitting down next to you and rubbing a towel in his hair to dry it.

you can’t help but slyly glance at his biceps, when the fuck did he get this hot?

suddenly, ‘spin you around’ by morgan wallen begins playing and you jump up with a smile. “i fucking love this song!” you say, immediately singing along as the words begin playing.

yes, you’re a few white claws in at this point, but you’re also just happy to be with the people you love. you’re dancing around on the boat singing the words, and jack is looking at you like he just fell in love. his smile is big and his eyes are glued to you, watching you dance and sing like a crazy person, yet he’s not judging you. far from it, actually. he thinks it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen, and the fact you’re in a bikini isn’t helping either.

he chuckles to himself and pulls the beer bottle to his lips, admiring the smile on your face and the way your cheeks are flushed from the sun.

—

the house is quiet since everyone is taking a nap or just resting from the long day out. you’re currently sat on the dock, playing some music from your phone and watching the water ripple from the slight breeze. the sun is approaching the horizon and you’re cuddled into the same sweatshirt from last night, the one jack gave you when you were 15.

suddenly, footsteps appear behind you and you turn around to see jack. “you okay?” he asks, sitting down next to you. “yeah, just got bored,” you shrug, turning down the music slightly. he smiles at the sight of you in his sweatshirt.

“watcha thinking about?” he asks.

“everything, really,” you pause. “i mean, isn’t it crazy how you and quinn are in the nhl, im in college, and lukeys already seventeen? i can still vividly remember when we were seventeen spending summers here, and talking about where we would end up for college. you were listing off your offers with no idea that you’d go first overall, while i was stressing about my common app,” you chuckle.

he smiles softly at the memory, “yeah, i miss those days honestly. i kinda wish i got the chance to go to college. it seems fun. maybe one day you can take me to a frat party,” he says before nudging your shoulder with his. you giggle slightly, “frats are gross and dirty, you’d hate it.”

“eh, maybe i would, but at least i get to spend time with you,” he shrugs. your cheeks run hot at his words, was he just being nice or was he flirting? you couldn’t tell, and the moment fell silent.

“i miss you, y/n. i miss living three blocks away from you. its so weird being in different states. and like, now you have all of these friends that i’ve never even heard of before. it’s really weird,” jack admits. your stomach turns with butterflies at his words, and you turn to look at him, praying the heat in your cheeks isn’t visible.

“i miss you too, rowdy. it’s hard being away from my best friend.” he rolls his eyes at the nickname but bites back a smile. as if on queue, spin you around by morgan wallen begins playing through your phone speaker. your face lights up, and jack suddenly gets an idea. “c’mere,” he says, forcing you to stand up. you furrow your brows before suddenly he starts singing along to the words softly, and you follow suit.

jacks heart is racing, but he knows that if he doesn’t confess his feelings soon enough, he’ll never do it. he takes your hands in his and sings along to the lyrics, “well you might tell me ‘boy hell nah,’ but hell what can hurt?”

you giggle as he takes your hands and spins you while singing, “cause i just wanna spin you ‘round, and ‘round this dance floor, get you drunk on a love like mine… might wind up and steal a couple kisses…” the rest of the words that jack sings along to fade as your heart thumps in your chest. he spins you gently around and then pulls you into his chest, looking down at you.

“cause the way you stole my heart without a sign, girl it outta be a crime,” he says softly. you’re wrapped in his arms looking up at him, a soft smile plastered on your lips and a heavy blush on your cheeks. “is it bad that i really want to kiss you?” you whisper, and jack grins like the happiest man on earth.

“i’ve wanted to kiss you for as long as i’ve known you,” jack quietly replies, his hands finding their way to the small of your back.

as the sky is painted with faint hints of pink and gold, jacks lips find yours for the first time in nineteen years.

[ikkyfics]

What If It Was You?

dad!James Potter x f!teacher!reader

Summary: It all started innocently enough. James noticed how kind you were. But over time, he began to notice things he probably shouldn’t have. The way your hair fell over your shoulder as you wrote something on the board. The soft sound of your laughter. The way your eyes sparkled when you looked at Harry. And for a moment, James let that forbidden thought take shape again: you at home with them, laughing, caring, belonging.

Warnings: muggle!au, suggestive

Masterlist

The school gate was nearly empty when James finally arrived, the late afternoon sun tinting the sky with shades of orange and pink. He was late — again. The traffic, work, single father life… there were so many excuses, but none of them seemed enough when he thought of the disappointed look he might find on Harry's face.

He adjusted his glasses and took a deep breath, crossing the small stone path to the entrance. The place seemed incredibly quiet at this hour. He knew he should hurry, but his steps slowed when he saw you through the half-open door.

You were facing away from him, crouched down next to Harry, and the two of you were laughing at something he couldn’t hear. James felt a pang in his chest as he watched the scene — something he couldn’t name, but that grew with each passing day since you entered their lives.

It all started innocently enough. He noticed how kind you were, how you seemed to genuinely care for every child in the room. But over time, he began to notice things he probably shouldn’t have. The way your hair fell over your shoulder as you wrote something on the board. The soft sound of your laughter, which seemed to light up the room. The way your eyes sparkled when you looked at Harry, as if he were the center of the universe for a moment.

And then there was the damn ring question. James never knew exactly why his eyes sought your left hand, but they always did. Always. And every time he didn’t find a ring there, he felt a relief that left him ashamed of himself. But the shame was never enough to erase the relief. Today, however, a new and dangerous thought struck him. He didn’t just want your hand to stay ring-free. He wanted there to be a ring there. One that he had placed. One that told the world you were his, that you were part of the small world he and Harry shared. But then you looked up, and his eyes met yours. Reality hit like a cold splash of water. You smiled at him, that warm smile that made his stomach flip, and James felt as if all his thoughts were exposed in the air between you. “You’re just in time, Mr. Potter,” you said, your voice light and sweet, but with a teasing tone he recognized. “I thought Harry was going to demand I adopt him if you didn’t show up.” The sentence hit him hard, like an unexpected punch that left him breathless for a moment. Adopt him? The word echoed in James’s mind as he looked at you, feeling a sudden and overwhelming wave of thoughts he couldn’t contain. You adopting him. You, in their life, not just as Harry’s teacher, but as… something more. He blinked a few times, trying to process the whirlwind that had formed in his mind. A brief and intimate vision appeared, so clear he could almost feel it: you, sitting next to him at the dinner table, helping Harry with his homework. You laughing as Harry tried to explain a drawing he made at school. You holding a baby in your arms — his baby — with the same sweetness you gave to every child in that classroom. James felt the air getting trapped in his lungs, a heat rising to his face. He had never considered having another child. Life as a single father was already a minefield of challenges and surprises, and he always thought it would be enough with just him and Harry. But now… now he could picture himself looking at you with a mixture of fascination and love as you held a child with unruly hair and bright eyes — a perfect mix of him and you. Harry had already mentioned how he would like to have a sibling. And you would look beautiful. He knew that. He could see the image so clearly it made his chest tighten in a nearly painful way. You with a rounded belly, full of him, wearing one of those light dresses he thought suited you. He imagined himself placing a hand there, feeling the baby move under his fingers, and the thought hit him like an electric shock, making him avert his gaze for a moment, as if he could hide the intensity of his own desires.

“Mr. Potter?” Your voice called again, laced with a hint of concern, and James realized he had been silent for too long.

“Oh, of course,” he replied, clearing his throat and forcing a smile. He ran a hand through his hair, an automatic habit whenever he was nervous. “I hope he didn’t give you enough trouble to make you reconsider.”

“Not at all,” you said, and that gentle smile he adored returned. “Harry’s a sweetheart.”

James felt something in his chest tighten again, because he believed it. He knew how special Harry was, and knowing that you saw it too, that you treated his son with such care and affection, was more than he knew how to express.

For a moment, you two just looked at each other in silence, and the world around seemed to slow down. There was something in the way your eyes met his, as if a silent current of understanding and something more was passing between you. It was intimate. Warm. A spark he didn’t know how to extinguish.

“Dad, are you going to keep staring at her forever, or can we go home?”

Harry’s voice sliced through the silence like a blade, snapping them both back to reality. James blinked quickly, looking away and feeling the heat rise to his face. He looked at his son, who was staring at him with an impatient air, though there was a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“Sorry, champ,” James replied, clearing his throat and letting out a nervous laugh. “I think I’m more tired than I thought.”

You laughed softly, and the sound was like music to his ears. “I think we’re all tired. Have a good night, Mr. Potter. Harry.”

“Good night!” Harry replied cheerfully, giving an enthusiastic wave while holding his father’s hand.

James looked at you one last time, struggling against the urge to prolong the interaction. But he knew he had to go, even though every part of him wished to stay just a little longer.

“Good night,” he said, his voice softer than he meant, before turning and starting to walk out with Harry.

As he left, he felt his son squeeze his hand and heard his excited voice say, “Dad, I really like her. I think she’d be a great mom.”

James stopped in his tracks, his heart leaping in his chest. He looked at Harry, who was staring at him with that disarming innocence only a child could have.

And for a moment, James let that forbidden thought take shape again: you at home with them, laughing, caring, belonging. He didn’t say anything, but squeezed Harry’s hand a little tighter, thinking that, no matter how impossible it seemed, he couldn’t agree more.

[dissvicious]

Alone in Wano - 2 / 2

A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH for how y'all welcomed the first part of this little flic, I was SO nervous about it and I'm really really happy that it made you feel things! here is the second & last part, thanks again @a-killer-obsession for beta reading, platonically kissing you on the mouth buddy ♥ No content warning but maybe don't read if you're not comfortable with pregnancy & delivery stuff, and KidLaw is mentioned as a joke, maybe light Wano spoilers too

Part 1

“NO FUCKING WAY IN HELL. I'D RATHER DELIVER ALONE BY THE RIVER AND LET MY NEWBORN DRINK WATER FROM KAIDO'S FACTORIES THAN LETTING YOUR EMO-ASS FINGERS ANYWAY NEAR MY CUNT SO BACK OFF.” 

Law looked up at the ceiling, passing a hand on his face and taking a huge breath. He pondered for a moment if he could just leave the abandoned house and leave Nina on her own without checking her up. He rubbed his temple, looking down at the small woman in front of him, and tried to calm his nerves.

“Stop acting like a moron, Pinky-ya. You've lost a lot of blood, and I have more important business to attend. Just let me check if the baby's doing well, and I'll leave you alone.” 

Nina pouted and crossed her arms - a face she used to make to wrap men around her little finger. However that somehow had no effect on this stupid depressive doctor. Maybe her big pregnant belly blocked her cuteness aggression abilities? Maybe he was just an ass. She tilted her head, studying his face. By some ways he reminded her of Wire, which made her nostalgic.

That's not how things were supposed to happen. When Killer - at least the man she'd mistaken for Killer - hit her with his scythes, she lost consciousness and barely remembered anything then. She woke up in the small cabin she shared with Hiyori and Toko, curled in her bed, an immense pain radiating from her lower half. Hiyori did what she could to stop the bleeding but it was clear she needed a doctor to check if the baby was alright. By chance, running to the flower Capital, they bumped into Law, who was looking for his crewmates. Roronoa pushed her against the black haired guy like some kind of heavy packet with a mumbled “needs a doctor for pregnancy shit, Torao” before walking away, leaving both of them flabbergasted, and here she was. 

However, she quickly made clear that in no way Law could approach her, let alone touch her or look between her legs. Each of his attempts to do so ended up with him being hissed at and insulted, her nails threatening to claw his eyes out. There was a persistent rumor running through the new generation that Law and Kid had a quick fling at Sabaody, and even if it was long before Kid and Nina met, even if she never met Law before and even if Kid always denied it, it was enough to fuel her jealousy and hate towards this stupid ass doctor and his stupid ass poseur tattoos and his stupid ass spotted hat. 

“Come on, Pinky-ya,” Law insisted, looking at her with all the softness he was able to gather - which wasn't a lot, “just let me do a quick check up and I'll leave. I'll use my power, I won't have to touch you. Let me check if the baby is ok, at least.”

Nina hesitated, nipping her lips. She caressed her belly and thought for a moment. As much as it cost her to admit it, Law was right. She was worried sick about her unborn child. Since the attack, she suffered from heavy cramps, and she had lost a lot of blood. Tired and worried, she decided to put her ego aside and gave up. She lied on her elbows, uncrossing her arms, silently agreeing to let him do so.

Law closed his eyes and mentally thanked whatever god was listening to him for her cooperation, impatient to be done with this feral girl who seemed to hate him for no reason - not that he cared a lot. He conjured a room and used Kikoku to inspect Nina's body. Immediately, he frowned. 

“What? Something's wrong?” Nina asked in a surprising soft voice.

“How far along are you in your pregnancy, Pinky-ya?”

“About 7 months, why?”

Law put down Kikoku and looked down at her, understanding at the moment that he was far from being done with this girl. 

“You're in labor,” he said bluntly, looking her in the eyes. 

Nina sat up immediately, gritting teeth as she felt an intense pain in her lower abdomen. 

“No,” she cried, “he's too small, he wouldn't survive.”

Law sat on his heels, pondering his options. They were alone, in an abandoned house. With his devil fruit he could stop the labor, but he wasn’t experienced enough with pregnancy to trust his abilities to do so safely. Not to mention the mother lost a lot of blood, and the probable placental abruption the hit induced. There wasn't any good choice in this situation.

“7 months, he has good chances to survive,” Law said, trying to be reassuring.

Nina shook her head, putting her hands on her belly as to protect it from him, tears flooding down her cheeks. “No, no. You’re a doctor aight? And you have some shitty doctor power, so use them to stop the labor, I can’t deliver now, I can’t do it.”

As Law looked down at her, he suddenly felt a wave of pity for Nina. With her hands on her belly and the mix of anger and fear in her eyes, she looked like a feral creature protecting her cub. At this moment, he understood that behind all this though girl attitude and aggression, she was probably deeply scared and anxious.

“Pinky-ya,” Law said with a stern voice, looking right in her bright green eyes, “right here and now the best option for you and your baby is to deliver. If he stays in, with the blood loss and without any good hospital around, I can’t ensure his survival. I’m not sure, but I think your placenta broke. If you deliver, though, I could use my ‘shitty doctor power' to check for any issue and heal them if necessary.”

Nina shook her head again, closing her eyes as tears flooded down her cheeks. She was terrified at the idea of delivering alone without her lovers, without her family, on a dirty floor in an empty house. “I … I can't do this I need Kid and Killer, I can't -”

Law grabbed her knees and looked down at her with a stern glance. “You can, and you will. I won't let you nor your baby die.” 

Nina held his glance, and something in his face provoked a change in her. For the first time she felt that her anger toward him might have been misplaced. It was clear that he wanted to do everything he could to save her baby, and that’s what mattered. She nodded weakly, tears flooding down her cheeks.

“Alright Trafalgar. I trust you.”

Next hour felt like a torture for both of them. 

Nina was lying on her back, gritting teeth and crying, following Law's instructions as he was trying to help the labor, looking between her legs, trying to fight the urge to run out of the house and vomit on the ground. He saw a lot of body horror in his life but it was the first time he helped with birth giving and to say the least, he wasn't comfortable with the whole thing. If it wasn't to save an innocent baby's life he would have left this shit behind him. 

After trying different positions to help the labor, he gave up and looked at her. “It won’t work. You're too weak after bleeding this much. We need to do a C-section”

Nina whined and looked down at him “Again?!”

“You already had a C-section?”

“Not much of a choice when you're 5’0” and have to deliver a 16 pound baby…”

Law winced. Two C-sections, in a short amount of time… that was risky. But with his powers, he could manage to make it safe for her and her baby. “Pinky-ya, do you trust me?”

Nina surprised herself when she realized the answer was yes. They didn't appreciate each other, that was clear. However, he still went out of his way, stopped as he was going to look after his men, because she needed help and he was the only one able to provide it. Her eyes met his, and a silent comprehension passed between the two of them. Law stood up and raised up his hand.

“Room,” he said with his deep voice, the house around them suddenly glowing in a blue light. He looked down at her, trying to locate her womb and the baby in it with as much precision as possible, using both his devil fruit and his Haki to help him do so. It was the first time he had to do something like this, and he was a bit nervous. 

He took a deep breath to steady, before turning his hand, fingers pointing up. “Shambles.”

What happened next mesmerized both of them. Without any pain or suffering, a round hole opened in Nina’s belly. Her baby, wonderful, amazing, the size of a regular baby despite being preterm, flew up from it, umbilical cord still attached to both of them as Law created a protective bubble around him to replace the amniotic bag. 

For a moment, the whole house went silent, Law and Nina both transfixed by the sight in front of them. The baby already had a mess of blonde hair on his head, leaving little to no doubt to who his father was. For Law it conjured bittersweet images, images of someone he used to know and loved like a father, in another life.

After a few moments, Law snapped back to reality, and used his powers to cut the umbilical cord, proceeding to check for any issues in the newborn before giving him to Nina. 

“I did everything I could,” he whispered, a hint of worry in his voice, “now, he has to scream.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Nina held her baby against her, cradling him softly. 

“Please,” she whispered, “please sweetheart please. Please scream. Please.” 

After what seemed like an eternity, loud screams and cries echoed in the house. Nina burst into tears, hugging her newborn baby, holding him carefully as if afraid to break him, humming the scent of his head, peppering kisses on his little face. 

She looked up at Trafalgar, who was sitting on the ground, catching his breath as well.

“Thank you” she whispered.

“No problem” he answered, and Nina could swear she saw him smile.

[mim16s]

Survival in Game

Cho Hyun-ju x Autistic!Fem!Reader

•I'm not autistic, but I have a brother and a cousin who are, so I used my experience living with them to write this character. English is not my first language, but I tried my best to write this without spelling errors. This is my first story on this app, so I hope it is good.

This wasn’t what you wanted for your life. Honestly, you didn’t even understand how you had gotten to this point. All you wanted was to take care of your mother, to repay all the effort she had put into you. And you knew how hard it had been for her.

She got pregnant young and raised you on her own, with no support system. Your father? Well, you never knew him. He disappeared as soon as he found out about the pregnancy. Your grandparents, embarrassed that she had gotten pregnant so young and without even getting married, abandoned her too. That’s how your mother faced the world alone, with you in her arms.

And things got even harder. You knew that being autistic made everything more challenging for her. As a child, you didn’t speak, and your first words came only after many therapy sessions, which were expensive. But she never gave up. You remembered seeing her come home, exhausted after a long day of work, but always with a smile.

— Mom is fine. You’re everything I need to have strength, — she would say, trying to hide her exhaustion.

But you knew the truth. You knew how much she fought, how she struggled to meet all your needs, to make sure you never lacked anything. Everything fell apart when she got sick. You were 19. The illness took all her strength, and she could no longer work. That’s when the weight of the world fell on you. You had to find a job, but no matter how hard you tried, no one wanted to give you a chance. When they saw you weren’t neurotypical, they wouldn’t give you a chance.

Life became a daily struggle. You survived doing small jobs here and there, while some kind neighbors helped with food baskets. But the money was never enough, and the debts started piling up. Your mother’s treatments were expensive, and with each unpaid bill, the despair grew.Then he appeared. The man in the suit.He appeared out of nowhere, as if fate had sent him. With a piercing look, holding a briefcase in his hand. He stopped in front of you while you were resting in one of the subway chairs, with a smile that made you just as uncomfortable as it did curious.

— Looks like you need an opportunity, don’t you?—You hesitated, unsure of what to respond. He seemed to know exactly who you were and what you were going through.

— I want to propose something to you.

And that’s when you got a card with geometric symbols and a phone number. You stared at it, your heart racing without fully understanding it.

---

And now, here you were: in a strange hall, surrounded by people you didn’t know, in a place you had never seen before, wearing clothes you didn’t even remember putting on, and the fabric itched. You weren’t the only one confused. Perplexed looks crossed the room, and nervous whispers filled the air.

Then they appeared: masked soldiers, wearing uniforms that seemed more threatening than functional. You couldn’t help but shrink back, a heavy feeling that something was terribly wrong.They began to speak, explaining what was happening.

— Excuse me! — A voice echoed. Your eyes followed the sound until they landed on a beautiful woman, who seemed just as indignant as she was confident. — They said it would just be some games, but you kidnapped us. And you still want me to believe this?

— We apologize, — one of the masked soldiers replied, the voice distorted by some sort of modifier. — It was a necessary measure to ensure the confidentiality of the games we are organizing.

Questions started popping up from all sides, but the answers provided no comfort, only more tension. You wanted to understand better, but it was hard to follow. The questions, the sounds around you, the smell of sweat and fear in the hall, everything was pulling you in different directions. You began to rock back and forth slightly, trying to focus. It was something that always helped. But the discomfort persisted.

---

You were led to a large open field, surrounded by high fences and cameras that seemed to record every movement. It was announced that the first game would begin soon. When a desperate man screamed that, if anyone was eliminated, they would die, a chill ran down your spine. It couldn’t be true... right? But when the game began, the illusion of safety shattered. The sharp sound of a gunshot cut through the air. Your eyes widened, shock paralyzing you. That sound — loud, deafening to your sensitive hearing — seemed to hammer in your head. You instinctively wanted to cover your ears to block out that deafening noise, but you felt someone hold your hands firmly, preventing any sudden movements.

— Don’t move, it’s dangerous. — The voice came from behind. It was the beautiful woman from before. There was something in the firmness of her tone that managed to cut through your panic, bringing some calm.

— My ears hurt, — you murmured, your voice trembling.

— I know. But you have to hold on. Just a little longer.

Chaos spread around you. People were screaming, some running in desperation, while others were falling to the sound of new gunshots. You felt terror take hold, a heavy knot in your throat. Your legs felt like stone.

— If you don't cross the line in time, they'll still kill you! Look at the doll's eyes! They're cameras that scan for motion! But it's not able to detect you if you're behind something! — screamed one of the players, his voice desperate. — So if you short, line up behind someone who's taller than you!

Your body wouldn’t respond. You were frozen, the noise and the fear trapping you in place.The beautiful woman stopped in front of you, blocking your view of the rest of the field.

— Keep going. — Her voice was urgent, yet gentle. — You need to keep going. Don’t worry, I’ll stay in front of you. Just follow me, okay?

You couldn’t verbalize, but when the music started again, you followed her. Each step behind her felt like an eternity, but she kept her promise, protecting you as you moved forward.

After the game ended, everyone was taken back to the room. The atmosphere was heavy, filled with fear and despair. Lost looks, uncertain steps — everyone seemed terrified, and you were no different.Sitting on one of the beds, you rocked back and forth, an automatic motion, a desperate attempt to find comfort. But it didn’t help. Your breathing was uneven, the sounds around you seemed amplified, and all you wanted was to leave. Your mind raced in circles, always returning to the same question: Why me? You just wanted to help your mother. Everything you did was for her, and now you were trapped here, too scared to do anything.Then the voice of the masked soldiers echoed through the room, imposing order, the man from before who said he had already participated in this game proposed the vote.At first, the idea of voting seemed like an escape. A chance to get out of that terrible situation.

But then they revealed the amount of money accumulated by the people who had died. The sum gleamed in a giant safe suspended in the room. The shine of the money seemed to hypnotize some. Murmurs started to arise. Many were considering staying. You felt a tightness in your chest.

When the vote began, the sound of buttons being pressed was like a constant drum in your ears. You watched the people go to the ballot box, one by one, pressing their votes. Some hesitated, others went with determination.When it was your turn, your hands trembled as you walked up to the ballot box. The panel blinked in front of you: a circle to stay and an “X” to leave. You could barely see properly, your vision blurred by the tears at the corners of your eyes.Your finger pressed the “X.” You wanted to leave, go home. You needed your mother as much as she needed you. But when the final vote was recorded and the numbers were revealed, your heart sank.The majority had chosen to stay.Panic took over you again. Your fingers began to tremble uncontrollably, and you went back to your bed, feeling your whole body tighten. Your mind was in chaos. The rocking movement returned, but this time even more intense, as if your body was trying to compensate for the avalanche of emotions.You felt helpless. You wanted to scream, to cry, but all you could do was try to hold onto the little control you still had.

The terror was greater than anything you had ever felt before. And, even worse, it was just the beginning

Part 2:

[hornedmonsters]

"A'thaen" Yautja Oc x Reader - Mate - nsfw - Part 2

Warnings: nsfw, size difference, exophilia, teratophilia, monster x human, alien sex, breeding, angst, sex in the snow

Synopsis: Your life with A'thaen he started, but you've already loved every second of it. But something seemed to be bothering the Yautja.

Word Count: 3,2k

Jezus… this GIF… damn…

I managed to translate this story after all. Thanks Handy!

Two months have passed since A'thaen made you his life partner and mated with you. You haven't regretted a second of your life that he just stormed into your life and fucked you. Literally. You no longer felt so lonely in your little house and the nights weren't so cold either.

Because he fucked you almost every night, either deep inside your bed mattress, on the sofa or anywhere else. He found a place everywhere where he could breed you. And he often destroyed your bed in the process, because it was simply not designed for the brute strength of a gigantic alien with a high breeding instinct.

Of course you had never worried about getting pregnant, because what are the chances of getting pregnant by an alien, a different species that has a different DNA and life line than you?So you let him do it because you enjoyed the way he treated you like you were his queen. He adored you more than anything.You moaned as he pushed his thick cock deeper into you and pressed your face into the mattress. Your skin was covered in a film of sweat and his shadow towered over you. He had totally changed since your first mating. He was reserved at first, but now you were his.

"A'thaen..." you gasped, your legs trembling. You had no strength left and were exhausted. The Yautja growled in apology and shortly after, he came inside you, deep rumbling.

He watched you attentively as you let your body sink into the bathtub and let out a pleasant sigh. You were tired and he felt it, a touch of his conscience made him restless. He sometimes forgot that you were a human and not a Yautja female. You were more sensitive and he had to try to respect that and be more careful with you, he didn't want to break you and hurt you.Gently he laid you in bed and pulled you against his chest. You were exhausted and your eyelids were heavy.

"Don't forget... that my sister is coming tomorrow," you said in a whisper and the Yautja listened up, his eyes looking down at you. You saw the question mark on his face.

"She won't be staying, she's just bringing her child over in the meantime because she has something important to do and she wants me to look after her daughter.

"A'thaen tensed as the thought of hiding came to mind, as no one was to know he was here. The child might betray him and that would only cause trouble, even if it was questionable to believe a child.

"She's half a year old, A'thaen. You don't have to hide," you breathed, straightening up. Gently, you pressed your forehead against his cheek and breathed in his scent. He calmed you down.He clicked, apparently not much in the mood to talk right now. His claws were still firmly on your curves and you felt him pull you closer.A'thaen had often had the thought of what if you were pregnant by him. Yautja children were different from human babies and the birth could mean your death if you were pregnant. That would be the next thing

Since you've been together, you've mated a lot... a whole lot. But you didn't get pregnant. But the Yautja had hope, a lot of hope. His gaze rested on your sleeping form and he felt warmth in his heart.This feeling became even stronger when you held your sister's child in your arms and it triggered all kinds of feelings in him. Excitement, sadness, hope and warmth. It was a chaos of emotions.

The little girl squawked and squeaked. You smiled and looked at Yautja, who was standing a few meters away from you, watching the scenario.

"Here, take her," you suggested and his mandibles twitched. His look was skeptical, but in reality he was afraid of hurting the baby. It was so tiny. But before he could react, you pressed the little creature into his arms and he was mesmerized as the girl's saucer eyes gazed at him watchfully.

The longer you looked at what was happening, the more it hurt you. You couldn't give him what he wanted so much and that was bitter in your stomach.A'thaen sensed the change and his eyes looked at you with concern and questioning.

Sometimes you forget that he was a deadly hunter and a good hunter. He had killed many people, he had told you shortly after your mating. But it didn't affect you, you still wanted him. It was just a part of him.

But you put on a smile, took the child and put her to bed. The little girl was tired and it was really late. Somewhat reluctantly, the Yautja gave up the baby, there was still something strange in his gaze.

During the night, you lay with your back turned to him and stared into space. At some point, you noticed how he slowly and quietly got up and left the room. After that, he never showed his face again.

On the second day, your sister picked up her daughter again, but there was no sign of A'thaen and you started to worry. Then you remembered that he still had his spaceship. You remembered where it was, but it had disappeared. The place was empty and his spaceship wasn't exactly small.You panicked. Had he just left you? Had you done something wrong to him? You became restless and at night you couldn't sleep a wink.

Tears gathered in your eyes as you looked out of the window. It was storming heavily, but you didn't see an oversized spaceship or an oversized alien man. You walked through the rain. You needed a walk to clear your head. You were a mixture of emotions and you found it hard to breathe. Had you really managed to scare off an alien?

Trembling, you leaned against a gigantic tree and exhaled deeply. Slowly you slid down and tears ran down your cheeks as you felt the exhaustion of the last few days. When you went back home, you went to bed. You couldn't sleep until you were simply too exhausted and your body gave way. You quickly drifted off into the darkness of sleep.

A few more weeks passed until one day you suddenly heard a loud noise outside. You jumped up from the sofa and looked towards the door. Your heart pounded with false hope and at the same time you were afraid that it was something completely different. You swallowed and got up.It was cold outside, winter was approaching and your hut was losing its warmth too. You carefully pushed the doorbell down and opened the door a crack. You immediately felt the cold and shivered. Wistfully, you grabbed your jacket and a flashlight.

Maybe it was a family of raccoons. They were probably looking for food before the harsh winter came. You crept out of the door and followed the sounds. The sky was cloudy and somehow you had a queasy feeling walking through the darkness to the back of the house. What if it was a bear? But what if it was A'thaen? What if he was injured.

Suddenly you saw something in the darkness. It was a shadow in the shadow of darkness. Gigantic. Your eyes widened and the next moment a bright light came on. You quickly closed your eyes and tried to get used to the bright light.

You put your hand in front of your eyes and slowly opened your eyelids. Slowly, the first snowflakes fell from the sky and you realized that it was a spaceship. A'thaen's.

Your mouth went dry and tears gathered in your eyes as you took heavy steps away, but couldn't see anyone.

"A'thaen...," your voice was a whisper and you suddenly felt someone gently take your hand and pull it down. A soft growl was heard, then the Yautja appeared in front of you and you were completely overwhelmed with the feelings you had. With your mouth open and your body trembling, you looked at him. More and more snowflakes fell gently on your skin and got caught in your hair.

You just stared at each other. Your hand still in his and it was as if time stood still for a moment. Your heart was beating so hard against your chest that it hurt. You felt sick and had an inner conflict. A'thaen sensed this and hesitated before making a wrong move. He knew he was long gone and he also knew that he had just left you standing there.

It wasn't his intention, it just came over him. He almost flinched when he suddenly felt your arms around his hips.

He then gently put his strong arms around your small, trembling figure. But the next moment you hit him on the chest. Over and over again. You sobbed as you did so. The Yautja simply stood still and took it. Maybe it didn't hurt him physically, but he could feel so clearly how he had hurt you.

"You left me alone..." you shivered and a clicking sound came from his mouth.

"I'm sorry", he whispers into Yautja and gently pushed you away from him so you could look into his eyes. His gaze was sincere and open. You licked your dry lips and gently he brushed your tears away with the pads of his thumbs. Oh if you only knew why he left. He hoped so much that you would like his gift.

"Was... On my... Planet," he started to explain and your brows drew together in confusion. What was he doing there? He reached for the bag he had strapped to his thigh and pulled out a glass jar filled with green liquid. Your eyes widened. Was that his blood? Your head was in chaos.

"I went to see one of our healers. I wanted to know more about pregnancy and the mating between humans and Yautja. You know I love you so much, more than anything else in this universe. I would kill anything and everything for you, just to protect you. But when I saw you with that child..., I told you I would love you too, even if we couldn't have children and I still do. But I saw the look in your eyes and I know you want children. I wanted to know if there wasn't a way and there is," his voice was excited and you didn't know him like that. He held the green liquid in front of your face. "This is our possibility. This is my blood and it would be possible for you to inject yourself with it. Your body would remain human, but there would be a few Yautja extras. Also that you react to my seed and become fertile for it." Then he hesitated when he saw your wide eyes and spoke in your language again: "Only... if you... want to." His heart pounded hard against his chest. He was nervous about your answer.

But no matter what you decided, he would continue to love you unconditionally and stay by your side. You were one. And no one would ever be able to change that.

You gently took the glass from his hands and looked at it. Is that why he had left? To surprise you that he had found a way to make your family bigger. All the pain that had accumulated over the weeks disappeared and was replaced by love and amazement.

"Let's try it," you breathed and A'thaen's eyes looked at you wide. It wasn't long before he had carried you, on his hands, back to your hut. You were excited when he gave you the first injection of his blood test and you were curious to see how long it would take for your body to respond.

Finally, your hut filled with warmth again. A'thaen enveloped you with his presence and adored you. You had missed it so much. This Yautja man was balm for your soul. He cuddled with you a lot, stroked you or even squeezed himself into the much too small bathtub with you. So that you could sleep on his chest while he caressed you. You were injected with his blood about twice a week, because you had to get used to it slowly.

It wasn't long before everything outside was white. Winter had officially begun and you were desperate to get out. Of course, your partner had to come with you. A'thaen looked at the snow a little skeptically, but when he saw your shining eyes, he almost gave in with a sigh. He watched you playing in the snow. You were building a snowman and he watched you curiously. He found it fascinating what you could do with this white, cold stuff.

Suddenly it landed right in his face and he clicked indignantly when he heard you laughing. You threw a snowball at him.

Quickly you ran away from him, but it wasn't long before the Yautja reached you and grabbed you. He pushed you against the nearest wide tree and his eyes literally glowed at you.

"Cheeky..., Hooman," his words made you tremble and you could feel something else in his voice. He'd barely touched you since he'd been back and you hadn't had sex. He only wanted to win your trust again after he had unfortunately broken it. But now you were both overcome with desire and passion.

You could hardly react when he tore your clothes off and the icy cold touched your skin. You gasped and sucked in the air sharply. Your nipples hardened and the only thing you were still wearing were your shoes. Thankfully.

A'thaen watched your body react to the cold and stroked your chest tenderly, causing you to inhale deeply. You didn't have time to think as he laid you down in the cold snow and an "Oh God!" escaped your lips. It was freezing cold and you could feel the snow stinging your skin and numbing it.

But at the same time, you could feel yourself getting wet again. A'thaen's tail throbbed under his protection as he saw you lying there helplessly on the ground. Your body and the snow made a magical contrast and it drove him wild to see you like this. The desire to breed you overcame him again and the idea that you were swollen with his child made him growl.

You whispered his name softly and the next moment he was stroking your clitoris, making you moan. He could smell you so intensely.

"Let's see if the injections have any effect," he growled into Yautja and his claws carefully went between your labia to see how wet you were. You were more than ready to take him deep and he clicked open delightedly. He didn't take his time and immediately thrust into you gently. As excited as he was, he still had to make sure you were well prepared despite his size.

You rolled your eyes and threw your head back on your neck as you felt the heavenly stretching you had missed for so long. A moan escaped your mouth and you tried to move your pelvis. You wanted more, he didn't have to prepare you. You wanted him so badly.

"A'thaen, damn it! Move..., please!" you begged him as you continued to move your hips. The Yautja looked at you with amusement and the next moment he was thrusting hard into you. You both moaned and you almost saw stars. It was so much at once. You clung to him, to the warmth he radiated and your gasps fogged his senses as he continued to thrust. He held you tightly in his arms, but still managed to stroke your clit, making you whimper.

It wasn't long before your body tensed and you felt your orgasm building. A'thaen's movements on your clit quickened and your fingers clawed fiercely into his skin, making him hiss. You tightened around him, milking him well as you both came. He pumped a huge load of his warm cum into your womb and you greedily took in every drop. You knew that he would start fucking you again every day. But rightly so, you had some catching up to do and you had a certain goal you wanted to achieve.

The warm water splashed down your body as you leaned against the wall of the shower, moaning and looking down at the Yautja beneath you with your eyelids lowered. Your legs rested on his shoulder with ease and his forked tongue licked your entrance. You held onto his dreadlock-like pigtails and gasped as he licked over your sensitive bud.

Your legs were trembling, the last orgasm was still in your bones and you could feel his cum flowing out of your sweet pussy. A'thaen insisted on licking you clean, of course also because he knew that he could give you pleasure again.His name came out of your mouth like a prayer and the Yautja growled in pleasure when he realized how good you felt in his clutches.

Suddenly you arched your back and pressed your pelvis harder against his face. He understood immediately and continued to lick greedily until you came moaning over his tongue.

He licked your labia and clitoris once more as he helped you up afterwards. You hung exhausted from his neck and your legs were weak. He gently carried you out of the shower and placed a towel over your naked body. You stroked his chest gratefully and leaned your head against him. Your eyes closed in exhaustion and slowly you actually fell asleep.

The Yautja looked at you curiously. As so often, he admired your beauty and gently stroked a wet hair out of your face before taking you to your bed. His eyes fell shut after a short time.When he woke up and turned to you, you weren't there. He immediately sat up and panic spread through him, but when the smell of bacon hit his nose, he calmed down. You've made breakfast.

"Good morning, A'thaen," you smiled gently when you saw him and immediately placed a large plate full of bacon, eggs and pancakes in front of him. Thanking him, he chirped at you and you joined him with your own plate. You ate in silence for a short while, but it was a pleasant silence.

Until you suddenly felt unwell. You felt nauseous and ran to the toilet as fast as you could and threw up. Trembling, you held on to the toilet when you suddenly felt a gentle touch on your shoulder.A'thaen looked at you worriedly. Were you ill? Had he been too rough with you and overworked your body? His mind was working and you smiled gently at him.

"I think I'm pregnant."

tag:

@sweatymusictree

[nanamiscocksleeve]

Hi!!! If you're still taking requests, can you do a bodyguard headcanon for the LADS boys pls and thanks 🙏

After talking to @ballorawan740 a little more, an extra detail added for the request was that MC was hired as a bodyguard for a young girl by their family. So I made all the men single dads for this HC. IDK who had they this child with or how it happened, just go with it.

Hey Miss Bodyguard...

Zayne:

He's a rich, famous, doctor stretched thin. He hadn't expected being a single dad would be this challenging. Being the youngest person to win the Starcatcher award was no small feat after all.

His fear stems from his refusal to work with Ever. He's terrified that they'll take his daughter as leverage.

He holds interviews of course, because how else can he find the best person to keep his little girl safe? When you walk in, he feels a connection that was absent with the other candidates. You got along easily with his child, and it was obvious that you cared for her more than beyond seeing her as a paycheck.

He keeps things professional and beyond offering you a drop home at night or sometimes bringing takeout, he mostly keeps to himself, but he's drawn to the way you spend time with his daughter. He sees how happy she is around you, and he's confident in your abilities to keep her safe.

It's his daughter that points out he likes you. "Miss...I think my daddy like you!" she'll say matter-of-factly while she gets her shoes on for school. Zayne nearly chokes on his coffee, his ears turning red as you stifle a laugh behind your hands, ushering her out the door. Later that day, Zayne calls asking if it would be all right if he asked you to dinner. You accept of course, because how could anyone resist the stoic, handsome, doctor with the cute daughter?

Sylus:

Sylus has a never-ending list of reasons as to why he needed a bodyguard for his daughter. He was the leader of an organized crime group after all, and there were several people who would gladly claim his head on a platter.

He tried to entrust Luke and Kieran but after an almost near accident at a gun range he decided maybe they weren't the best choice.

His daughter is suspicious of you when Sylus hires you. You simply looked out of place in the N109 zone and part of her didn't feel like you were 'one of them'. She would constantly complain to Mephisto and insist uncle Luke and uncle Kieran weren't that bad, and that they were sorry about the gun range incident.

You finally gain her trust when you teach her how to shoot soda cans with your hunter's gun. She's impressed and says you're not a bad shot, the highest compliment she could think of.

She expresses her approval to her dad and says to him, "daddy, she can outshoot you. You should shoot guns together." Sylus who is tossing a salad for their meal glances at you thoughtfully just as you're about to walk out the door. "Is that so? Well, what does our bodyguard think?" You'll freeze for a minute and retort that you had to think about it and leave. Sylus smiles reassuringly at his daughter. "That's a yes."

Xavier:

Xavier decides to ask you to be his daughter's bodyguard after finding out there are traitors amongst the Backtrackers. Their anger at him for deciding to stay in this timeline with his daughter knew no bounds. He feared they would kidnap her and attempt to fly back to dying Philos. They'd never make it, he knew, given the condition of their spaceship. His bigger concern was them getting stuck in the deepspace tunnel with no way to find their coordinates.

Xavier's daughter has an easy relationship with you. She's seen you around the building before and you always have candy ready for her sweet tooth. If Xavier was too busy to give her attention, then down the elevator she came to knock on your door.

On multiple occasions Xavier has come down to retrieve his daughter from you, reminding her that it's not ok to visit when you were off duty. This upsets her and she looks at you teary-eyed and you insist that she's not a bother.

At this point his daughter bursts out loudly, "Daddy, I'm always either at our place or hers. Miss should just move in with you so that I don't have to come downstairs anymore!" Both you and Xavier laugh awkwardly, both of you blushing before bidding each other good night.

But after Xavier has put his daughter to bed, he considers the idea. It seemed practical, but he knew you'd never go for it. So instead he asks you if you'd be interested in joining him for hot pot one of these days.

Rafayel:

Rafayel somehow believes that because you are his bodyguard, it means you are his daughter's too. Even after you told him it would cost double since you're trying to protect two people he shrugs it off and asks Thomas to write you a check for more.

The young girl is similar to her dad and has an artistic flair, painting breathtaking landscapes and adorable little cartoons alike. She often watches you chastising her dad for not following rules and not being safe enough and senses there's more there.

She can't help but notice that some of her dad's portraits feature people with features similar to yours; the same nose, the shape of your eyes, or the fullness of your lips. When she points this out Rafayel shakes his head in denial.

Determined to be right, she pulls you into his studio where all the portraits are kept while he's out one day. You do see the resemblance but try to console the girl that artists can find inspiration from anywhere, and it might not be as simple as him having feelings for you. Of course, she pouts (so much like her dad!) and that's when Rafayel walks in.

You ask him to correct his daughter, that your relationship is strictly professional. Rafayel sighs dramatically, then says, "Yeah, it's professional. But only because I can't get her to change her mind." His daughter smirks in triumph and you leave the room blushing, wondering how you got tangled up with this family.

© nanamiscocksleeve original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

@brekkersgf @ladyparamount @otomegamesforlife @shddyboo @supernaturalbaesduh @sweets-kozume @theimmortalbuns @venussakura

[myonexox]

Enhypen Jay Oneshot

pairing : husband!jay x female!reader pov : you accidentally cut your finger while cooking warnings : blood and minor injury (a cut) the smell of sizzling garlic and onions filled the air as you stood in the kitchen, chopping vegetables while jay stirred the pot on the stove. cooking together had become a cherished routine for the two of you, a small but meaningful way to bond after busy days.

“babe, are you sure you don’t want me to handle the chopping?” he glanced over his shoulder. “you’re always so reckless with knives”

you rolled your eyes but smiled. “it's okay, i’ve got this. you're treating me like i'm a child”

he chuckled, shaking his head as he turned back to the stove. “if you say so. but don’t come crying to me when you—”

as you sliced through a particularly stubborn carrot, the knife slipped, grazing your finger. you let out a sharp hiss, pulling your hand back instinctively. you stared at the small bead of blood forming on your fingertip.

“yah!” he said as he spun around, abandoning the pot on the stove. his eyes widened when he saw your finger. “what did i tell you? let me see that”

“jay, i'm fine. it’s just a tiny cut” you protested, trying to downplay the situation. “i’ve had worse, you know”

“tiny cut or not, i don't care” he insisted, grabbing a clean kitchen towel. he dabbed at your finger gently before ushering you to sit at the dining table. “stay here. don’t move”

“i’m fine! seriously, it’s not—”

“sit” he said firmly, leaving no room for argument. you huffed but complied, watching as he rummaged through the first aid kit with an urgency that made you want to laugh. his brows were furrowed in concentration and his lips were slightly pouted, the look he wore whenever he was completely focused on something.

“you’re acting like i’ve lost a limb” you teased as he returned, kneeling in front of you with antiseptic and a bandage. "come on, it's not that serious"

“this might sting a little” he said softly, ignoring your comment as he dabbed the antiseptic on your finger. he blew on it gently, his warm breath soothing the slight sting. you bit back a laugh at how serious he was.

“jay, seriously” you said, watching him carefully wrap the bandage around your finger. “it’s just a cut. i’m used to it”

his hands paused and he looked up at you, furrowing his eyebrows. “what do you mean you’re used to it?”

you shrugged, feeling a little sheepish under his gaze. “i used to cut my fingers almost all the time when i cooked. so, it’s not a big deal. relax”

his lips parted as if he was about to say something but then he shook his head. “that’s ridiculous. of course it’s a big deal. you’re my wife. how could i not care?”

“you’re overreacting” you teased, trying to lighten the mood.

he raised an eyebrow at you. “how am i overreacting? you know what, people say you should treat your wife like a queen, not a maid. isn’t that what i’m doing right now?”

you couldn’t help but laugh at his words.

his lips curved into a soft smile and he pressed a kiss to the top of your bandaged finger. “so, my reckless queen, no more chopping for you today. i’ll handle it”

“but i want to help!” you argued, crossing your arms.

“just watch me, okay?” he said with a playful smirk as he stood up and returned to the cutting board. “i’ll have dinner ready in no time. so just sit there and look pretty”

you let out a soft chuckle at his words as you watched him work.

“you know, you really scared me for a second there” he admitted, glancing at you.

“scared you?” you asked, tilting your head. “jay, you're so serious. it was just a little cut”

“still” he said, turning to look at you. “the thought of you being hurt even a little, makes my heart stop. i can’t help it. so please, be careful next time”

you replied with a soft smile. for someone who had spent so long being unnoticed, being loved by jay felt like living in a dream you never wanted to wake up from. you watched him cooking in silence. moments like these, though simple, were the ones you cherished the most.

[astarionancuntnin]

Hello! No idea if you’re taking requests, or if they are only Astarion x f!reader, nor how dark you go.

But you think you can write a Gale x f!reader in the third person (Name is just Tav) and Gale is obsessed with having a baby that he and Tav do it every minute even when Tav is asleep?

I'll go as dark as you allow me to go bb (also thank you for your patience oh my god i swear im gonna get through all my requests eventually). fair warning that this is my first Gale fic and i haven't done his romance in game, with that being said-

Silent Night

pairing: gale x tav (fem, not decribed but its implied she looks younger than him by a few years)

rating: E

word count: 3.7k

cw: 18+. smut, mentions of pregnancy, obsessive anxious thoughts, porn with feelings, coercion, unprotected sex, drugging, somnophilia, non-con, breeding kink (and breeding), creampie, using cum as lube, cock soaking, gaslighting, this is a dark one y'all have been warned. full list on ao3.

read on ao3

my masterlist

or keep reading down below~

Ever since getting rid of the Absolute, Gale’s life had been exactly how he had pictured it, and that meant spending most of his days lavishing his wife, Tav. Not a day could go by where he and his beloved did not indulge each other. Not only did they spend every single night at it - it was every single moment they had together: out on a picnic date, while they were cooking, when they were snuggled up on the sofa reading - as if their primal urges could never be satisfied.

Especially Gale’s.

After getting married, he had made it his primary goal to make sure his wife was satisfied at all moments and Gods above did he deliver. Truth be told, his drive had only gone up since they discussed their future, and potentially having a family — a child! Gale could hardly believe it; it was one of his wildest dreams and it was now just within reach.

Growing up alone with his mother, he still struggled with the idea of being a father as he feared to not be up to everyone's expectations — moreso Tav’s — but he couldn’t deny how he hoped he could eventually get the chance to be the father he always dreamed of having. Give his mother grandchildren that she could visit, make their friends aunts and uncles, even new company for Tara; finally have a real family of his own.

They had been careful in the past, however. Tav would always drink a potion that acted as contraceptive before doing anything, and it had been Gale's greatest disappointment. Every time, he wished she'd forget or would dismiss it so he could finally have it his way with her.

Thankfully, Tav was interested in the idea, but he noticed her doubts everytime the topic was brought up.

After everything they had gone through and the uncertainty of their future because of it, she had asked for some time to think about it. Make sure they were appropriately settled in — had a house, a stable income, a place secure for a child to grow up — and yes, of course, that was reasonable, but Gale couldn’t keep his mind from picturing her, with her breasts full of milk and rubbing her belly, swollen with their child.

My, what a sight.

It was enough to get him in the mood to put a damned baby in her.

But, Gale was a patient man, he could wait. Surely, she would make up her mind and have a clearer idea soon enough. She wasn’t saying it just to waste her most fertile years away, only to watch the opportunity fly out the window, or waiting for the next best option in terms of partners. They were married, for Gods’ sake, they had vowed to stay together until death did them apart, and after what they had survived, they were assured to live until their old days; they would be together forever.

…Right?

She wouldn’t just leave him now of all time, now that they were safe and secure. She didn’t just stay out of convenience, surely not. She couldn’t have lost interest since their adventure ended and was just looking for a way out — buying her time until she could safely discard him as Mystra had done to him in the past.

Oh Gods… but what if she was?

It’s not like he was getting any younger. If anything, the stress of destroying the absolute had taken a toll on him that must’ve made him age twenty years in the few months alone it had taken them. It only struck him when he gazed upon his beloved, still the very depiction of youth, as opposed to him. She remained beautiful as time passed by and he loved to admire her, but it was a constant reminder that he wasn’t getting any younger, and the orb in his chest hadn’t helped in the matter either. Even if he figured out a way to live longer, a skill he could learn as a wizard, she wouldn't have the chance to be blessed by those same powers Gale had; he would outlive her and he would be left behind — alone.

Again.

She would have every reason to look for someone more younger, who could age with her, and less broken than he was, and the darkest parts of him couldn’t accept this reality — wouldn’t accept it.

It didn’t matter that they were married, or how many times she had reassured him, those same thoughts came back crawling like a pest.

So that night, before heading to bed, Gale prepared Tav's herbal tea as usual: with chamomile, citrus, and honey — just warm enough to be comforting — and a dose of a special potion he took care of obtaining at the market during his errands earlier, just to make sure she would sleep through the night undisturbed.

Such a good husband! The merchant had exclaimed after he had explained his wife was suffering from insomnia. Taking care of his wife and tending to her utmost care, so thoughtful!

Oh, if only they knew.

They explained in detail the exact effects of the potions, and he didn't need further convincing before dropping a pouch of coins on the table and taking off with the magic concoction.

Upon watching his wife drink the tea he had so kindly prepared, Gale could only see how right the merchant had been — Tav wasn't even halfway through her cup that her eyelids grew heavy, her head wouldn't sit straight, and her entire body screamed at her to go rest.

Gale, the caring and loving husband he is, took it upon himself to bring her to bed and lay her down comfortably, still in her night clothes, with her breathing already heavy with sleep. He pushed her hair aside, letting his knuckles brush against the supple skin of her cheek as he took in the sight of her.

His beautiful wife — almost bare as she wore a short, lilac silk nightgown, and a soft pair of lace underwear, one he would eventually remove tonight to finally take what was rightfully his.

It would be preferable if she were awake, of course, but with the way her own doubts had plagued her mind, Gale thought it fair to give her head a vacation. She could rest peacefully, and he could give her a gift she didn’t know she wanted; he would help her see reason this way and she would have no other choice but to accept it if it just happened to her.

It was for the best, for both of them — he had always been careful, always so damned careful, respecting her wishes; what about what he wanted? What about his needs?

To breed her in the dead of night, leave her with a sticky mess between her legs to wake up to, then offer her another round of morning sex to cover up the soreness he would've caused her the night prior so she could stay completely inconspicuous until her sickness shows up and her belly grows swollen with a new life and—

Oh, Gods above, no, what was he thinking?! He couldn’t do this to her — not like this; not when she was asleep, but… Hells, he couldn’t ignore the throbbing erection this vision had given him. The sheer fabric of his underwear rubbing against his cock made him groan; he wouldn't be able to let it go now… And she was right there, out cold, it’s not like she would mind it if he were to just use her a little, right?

He sighed. Fine, just a touch then, just enough to ease the ache.

He let his hand reach down and underneath his underwear, where his fingers wrapped around his length, hard and angry, and he let go of a heavy breath as he pumped himself just once. Once too many, as it only made him more desperate for what could be around his cock instead of his hand.

Just a few strokes, just enough to satisfy my needs so I can go to sleep.

His grip was strong, but he pumped himself slowly as he eyed Tav's sleeping form. His thumb moved to the head of his cock, where he found a bead of pre-come already dripping, calling out for its home that rested between his wife’s legs. He rubbed it against his tip and slid it over his shaft to lubricate himself — hoping to find some relief with his own arousal — but only found himself wishing it were from his beloved, laying right there in front of him.

Gods dammit… Fine — just a touch, then… just a little… touch…

While one hand kept stroking true, his other one found comfort in the softness of her warm breasts. Small compared to what they could be if she were carrying their child, gorged in milk, but nothing short of delicious, as he remembered their taste in his mouth, his tongue circling around her plump nipple…

Oh, the taste of her–

As she moved in her sleep, he let go, afraid that he had woken her up, only for her to have simply slightly moved her legs apart, naturally lifting her nightgown up above her thighs and allowing Gale a clear view over her beautifully wrapped entrance — all of this without him needing to even lift a finger.

He chuckled nervously, thinking only for a moment she might have been awakened by his lewd touches. Still, she remained unconscious, and he remained painfully aroused by the sight of her barely covered cunt, with her legs wide open. She was right there, ready for the picking, just for him.

Hells, why was he second guessing himself, he had already spiked her tea, it's not like she would know either way; in for a penny, in for a pound, right?

Okay, okay, just a finger, just to pick up her moist and apply it over myself. That's all I need. Nothing more.

He pulled her legs together, just to slide her underwear off, only to be hit with the scent of her arousal completely coating the silk he had pulled away from her entrance.

By the Gods, my love. You're positively soaked. What have you been dreaming of, I wonder?

He brought her underwear to his nose, breathing in her aroma, and a shiver ran down his spine as he let his thoughts wander once again to his original plan. As he looked back to her, legs spread open and slit glistening wet, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind anymore; by the time he would be done with her, her womb would finally be claimed by his potent seed, and she would bear his child whether she wanted to or not.

Hells, forget the finger, I must taste you.

Letting go of his night robe and sliding down his underwear completely, he crawled over the bed and between her legs, settling comfortably with his face right besides the warmth at the apex of her thighs. He wrapped one arm around her soft thigh, while the other hand slid up to her wet slit, squeezing her puffy lips to push her juices out and admiring it drip over their bedsheets.

“Heavens above, my love,” he whispered against her cunt, his low, raspy voice carrying the lust he was done denying himself. “You look simply delicious.”

Bringing his face closer, he pulled his tongue out and pressed it flat against her entrance, swiping up along her slick ever so slowly to collect her essence. A shudder ran down his spine at her taste as he swallowed down her juices.

He murmured, against her core, “Not even the Gods could rival your taste, my heart.”

Using his thumb and finger just below her clit, he spread open her lips to expose her fully to him; pussy wet and enlarged by her arousal, almost as if she knew he was there, as if she subconsciously liked it.

Wanted it.

He breathed heavily over her slit, his mind hazy with lust as he finally dipped his tongue deeper into her folds, working his skilled tongue in and out of her. He took his time to collect her arousal in his mouth and tasted everything she had to offer him; he wanted to please her more than anything else, even as she slept through it all. His tongue circled around her clit and his mouth latched onto it to suckle, until he felt her reaching her first orgasm as she whined faintly in her sleep and her legs twitched — but she remained unconscious through it all, allowing Gale to eat and drink his fill of her.

Pulling back with his chin coated in her essence, he licked his lips with a smile. If this continued to go just as well, he would need to go back to the seller to thank them again.

Satisfied with her taste, and with his cock practically begging for her as he had smeared the bedsheets with his precome, he sat up on his knees and lifted her legs to bring them up and around his waist, then pressed his length over her cunt with a breathy sigh.

“There, there,” he purred as he rubbed his cock along her flushed and wet lips. “That’s a good girl, lying still for her husband. I just need a bit of you, love; you can rest. Just be good for me.”

If there was any doubt of her arousal, now it couldn't be ignored. Despite Gale’s assault of his mouth on her and the certitude he had drank every drop of her come as she climaxed in her sleep, a faint line of her juices dripped down from her entrance as he coated himself with her wet and stained the bed just below them.

I'll just slide the tip of my cock against her entrance, just enough to feel her— Gods, I need to feel her warmth.

No bed sheets or underwear in the way between her and him anymore, which made it all the more simple for him to align her waist with his and push her legs apart as he leaned against her with his arms on each side of her head. His length easily found its way around her warm lips, as he slid between them.

So very soaked for me, fuck— so wet and warm. Just stay like that love, your husband just needs you a little more.

Carefully moving his hips back, he pushed his tips against her entrance, and it didn’t take him long to come to a dreadful realization.

I can't wait any longer — I need this, please forgive me, Gods, I need this.

Slowly, he pushed himself all the way inside of her, and a broken gasp escaped his throat as he hit the end of her channel, filling her completely with his cock. Despite having completely sunk inside of her depths, it still wasn’t enough. He would only be satisfied when she would be filled to the brim with his seed, burst after burst of his cock spilling inside of her until she was leaking with his cum.

He picked up a rhythm — slow and careful at first — but it quickly fastened as he lost himself in the feeling of her tight walls around him, squeezing him even as she was sleeping.

“You little vixen–” he whispered, his voice breaking as he spoke to her as if she were conscious. “Ahhh… Just take it, take it for me. That's right, just like that… Oh, you little tease— you've wanted me to do this, haven't you? Have your husband come and fuck a baby into you as you slept? Are you truly this depraved, love? Are you this much of a whore for your lover?”

As she turned her head around and her arms moved up to touch his chest, Gale thought of the worst right away and slowed down his thrusts once more, but never stopped completely; he couldn’t find the strength within himself to stop now that he had gone this far.

He brought a hand up to softly cup her face and stroke her cheek, “Shhh, please don't make me do this, please, my love.” He whispered, pleading. “Don't fight it, just let it happen, you were doing so well.”

She whimpered, either from a nightmare or the potion wearing off, and brought her floppy arms up to weakly push against Gale's chest. Asleep or not, he couldn't allow her to try and stop him, not now. He picked her wrists and pinned her to their bed as he picked his rhythm back up, pounding into her.

“None of this now, dearest,” he growled. “Your husband is fulfilling his rightful duties to you, and I know you want this, your cunt has been begging me to put a baby inside of you for weeks now. This is for your own good; our own good— fuck—”

When her eyes began to flutter open and she mumbled his name half-asleep, he didn’t need to think twice before casting a sleep spell on her to make sure she would remain calm and docile. He wouldn’t back down now, the best he could do was minimize the damage on her.

His head fell forward, with strands of his hair falling from his messy bun to cover his face and tickle hers.

“I'm sorry my heart,” he pleaded as she slept through his assault, and he wasn't sure anymore if he tried to convince her or himself the most. “You gave me no other choice, I need to take you tonight. I need to make you mine and mine alone. It's for your own good, I promise.”

As if his words had slipped past the veil of her consciousness the moment those words left his lips, he felt her cunt clench around him.

“Oh Gods, even asleep your cunt wraps so tightly around my cock.” He moaned, biting his lips to muffle the desperate sounds fighting to leave his lips. “It's okay, you don't need to use that little head of yours, your body speaks for itself with how it's milking me.”

He wrapped her legs back around his waist and cast mage hands to keep them locked in his back. There was only one way tonight was ending, and he wasn't going to back away until his job here was done.

Despite the sleeping spell and the potion, Tav whimpered as Gale fucked into her recklessly, with a rhythm nearly desperate.

“Fuck, you moan so prettily when you take my cock, I might just burst yet—”

His thrusts started to become sloppy, losing his clean rhythm to replace it by one borderline animalistic as he pressed himself wholly against her body, her breast crushed against his chest with each push of his hips. In the dead of this warm, silent night, the only sounds keeping them company were the sloppy splashes of his hips against hers, his balls slapping against her tight little asshole, and his breathy moans that grew only louder and out of control, barely noticing just how loud he was getting.

“Please let me give you the life we deserve,” he begged, not caring for the sound of his voice anymore. “Let me breed you, bear my children, make me a father– fuck!”

His body pinned Tav down, his cock completely buried into her as he spilled himself in the depths of her womb. With his concentration faltering, she started whining through her sleep spell as if she had fought through it to wake up. With his cock still pulsing his white, hot come inside of her, he brought his lips over hers to muffle her sounds with a one sided kiss.

“Shhh, it’s okay my love, it’s over. You’re okay, I’m right here. I’ve got you. Shhhh…” Gale ushered in her ear as he kept his body pressed against hers, his breath hot against her skin, and brushed away the hair from her face. “Let’s just stay like this for a moment. I need… I need this.”

He stayed inside of her for a few long minutes, until his breath came back to him and his cock went soft inside of her, only then allowing himself to pull out and lay back next to her; it was all too soon when he lost the warmth of her walls around him, and even soft, he knew his cock was missing it's home as it rested sadly over his belly in a puddle of his cum and her essence.

Making sure to avoid any doubt from her, he got up to slip his briefs and her panties back on before sliding back into bed and pulling the covers over both of them, then turned away to pretend to be sleeping. As he finally broke the concentration on his spell, Tav slowly woke up to a sweaty, but very much seemingly asleep Gale.

She shook his arm to take him out of his daze, “Gale? Gale… wake up!”

He turned around as if just woken up, “Gods, Tav,” he mumbled, feigning his fatigue. “What time is it?”

“Did you…” Her voice is sleepy and confused. “Did you fuck me while I was asleep?”

“What?” He exclaimed, raising himself up on his elbows and rubbing his eyes. “Gods, love, who do you take me for? I would never impose myself onto you like that, you must've had a nightmare. Are you quite alright? Come here–”

He brought the back of his hand to rest over her forehead, as if to check her temperature, and pulled back with a worried look.

“Poor thing — you're burning.” He brought her head to rest over his chest as he pet her head, trying to soothe her back to sleep. “Hush now, you're safe, I've got you. Shhh… You’re okay…”

Within minutes, if not seconds later, she slipped back into a restful sleep, with her head moving to the beat of his chest rising, and Gale couldn't help but admire her, chasing away the guilt of his actions as he realized the necessity of it.

The faint light of the rising sun exposed the glistening laying between her legs and pooling over the bedsheets past her panties, and he instinctively licked his lips at the mere thought of it.

Now, there would be no doubt in their future, only a certitude swirling around in his mind.

In time, she will be the most amazing and caring mother.

He just knows it.

Thank you for reading! Comments, reblogs, and likes are very much appreciated <3

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[goodqueenaly]

Does it seem odd that when Robert Arryn brings up the hope of marrying 'Alayne' the issue of them being officially stepsiblings isn't brought up? Does this indicate that it is considered acceptable in the 7K or could it just mean that it doesn't occur to Sansa as they're merely cousins or she doesn't feel that Robert is really able to understand this? After all, Lyonel Hightower had trouble with the Faith over marrying his stepmother. Though if we're looking for real-world analogues, in Islam stepsiblings is permissible but stepparents aren't.

A couple things.

Number one, when Lysa first mentioned the marriage between Robert and Sansa (when the latter was disguised as “Alayne Stone”), she did so knowing full well who “Alayne” really was:

“I … [sic] I am married, my lady.”

“Yes, but soon a widow. Be glad the Imp preferred his whores. It would not be fitting for my son to take that dwarf’s leavings, but as he never touched you … [sic] How would you like to marry your cousin, the Lord Robert?”

(It goes without saying, of course, that this proposed marriage was never so much as formally announced, much less actively planned, in the brief period between Sansa and Littlefinger’s arrival and Lysa’s murder.)

Number two, whether or not Robert ever learned from his mother that he would marry “Alayne” someday, I wouldn’t take the beliefs of young Robert as any sort of accurate reflection on Westerosi politico-religious statutes or tradition regarding marriage. Having lost essentially the only woman in his life, not to mention the only person who ever showed him anything resembling affection (a full critical review of her parenting notwithstanding), Robert has very clearly taken to Sansa-as-Alayne as a sort of surrogate mother. Being all of eight, not to mention very sheltered and infantalized by his mother, Robert does not have a real, practical idea of what marriage in a Westerosi context means; for Robert, marriage to Sansa-as-Alayne would mean “sleep[ing] in the same bed every night” while Sansa-as-Alayne would “read [him] stories”, “sleep[ing] and kiss[ing] and play[ing] games” with him - that is, essentially what Robert already did with or wanted from Sansa-as-Alayne. Robert isn’t thinking about what the Faith of the Seven or Westerosi law would say about marriage between step-siblings (or, maybe to put it more accurately, a stepson and a bastard daughter); Robert is trying to keep close to Sansa-as-Alayne as the only person giving him some modicum of comfort, stability, and love as his mother had.

Indeed, to that point, Sansa-as-Alayne underlined the impossibility of their union for Robert:

She put a finger to his lips. “I know what you want, but it cannot be. I am no fit wife for you. I am bastard born.”

“I don’t care. I love you best of anyone.”

You are such a little fool. “Your lords bannermen will care. Some call my father upjumped and ambitious. If you were to take me to wife, they would say that he made you do it, that it was no will of yours …[”]

…

Alayne stroked his fingers. “There, my Sweetrobin, be still now.” When the shaking passed, she said, “You must have a proper wife, a trueborn maid of noble birth.”

“No. I want to marry you, Alayne.”

Once your lady mother intended that very thing, but I was trueborn then, and noble. “My lord is kind to say so.” … “Any child of ours would be baseborn. Only a trueborn child of House Arryn can displace Ser Harrold as your heir. My father will find a proper wife for you, some highborn girl much prettier than me. You’ll hunt and hawk together, and she’ll give you her favor to wear in tournaments. Before long, you will have forgotten me entirely.”

Again, because none of this has ever gone beyond the imaginations of Lysa or Robert, it is impossible to say whether the aristocracy of the Vale, much less anywhere else in Westeros, would have reacted to a betrothal ostensibly between Robert and “Alayne Stone”. (And I say “ostensibly” because even in Littlefinger’s current nuptial scheme, Sansa is going to reveal herself as Sansa Stark, rather than “Alayne Stone” at her wedding to Harry Hardyng.) It is interesting to point out that Sansa-as-Alayne’s argument to Robert isn’t that they can’t marry because his stepfather is (officially) her natural father, but that they can’t marry because this marriage would be seen as too ambitious and tyrannical a move by Littlefinger - not necessarily mutually exclusive ideas, but certainly not synonymous either. That’s not to say Sansa is any more versed in the nuances of Westerosi law and/or the doctrines of the Faith to know whether or not this marriage would also be unlawful in the eyes of man or the Seven, of course, but at bare minimum we can say that Sansa-as-Alayne’s instinct with Robert regarding this marriage is to cite the gulf of rank between them, and the perceived influence of Littlefinger, rather than any idea that such unions are objectively forbidden.

(And, when it comes to Westeros legal-religious tradition, I don’t think GRRM has really put much thought into it, as indeed I’m not sure, for example, what the High Septon could or would have done about Samantha Tarly’s allegedly incestuous marriage. Generally speaking, I don’t think GRRM puts very deep thought into the religious and legal details around rules for marriage, much to my curiosity and sometimes chagrin.)

[dreamersworldduh]

Hi! Do you have the requests open? If so I would like to ask maybe something about tim drake x male reader. Nothing very special, maybe the reader is a Kryptonian and also has a "hate/rivalry" relationship with him, That once the reader is seriously injured by kryptonite and Tim worries and takes care of him day and night while the reader recovers. I don't know, I think it would be interesting to see that, besides you write amazingly and it would be even cooler, there could even be a mini-series lol. Well I hope you manage to do it, if not, Well, I'll understand it anyway, I hope to continue reading your stories soon (I love Damian's story) 🥰🥰🥰

THORN IN HIS SIDE

• TIM DRAKE x MALE!READER

SUMMARY — Tim Drake, the focused leader of the Teen Titans, managed the unique strengths and challenges of his team. Each member, like Cassie, Raven, Starfire, and Beast Boy, contributed in their own way. Tim thrived on structure, carefully crafting strategies while keeping the team in line. However, one member, you, constantly tested his patience and disrupted his plans. Unlike Tim, you relied on instinct and preferred spontaneous actions. Though you weren't incapable, your unpredictable methods frustrated him. Your confidence and charisma rallied the team, making Tim feel as if he was competing for their loyalty. Despite his annoyance, Tim recognized your invaluable contributions, often leading to fresh ideas and inspiring others. In his heart, he was grateful for your influence on the Titans.

WARNING! FLUFF! Violence.

WORDS! 6.3k

AUTHOR'S NOTE! Thank you for your request and your support! Much love 🫶🏽 I hope you enjoy 😉✨

Y/N, a Kryptonian sharing the same alien heritage as Superman, never imagined the life he now lived. Rescued as a child from Krypton's destruction, his abilities rivaled the immense power of the Man of Steel, yet they remained raw and untamed. For years, he worked as Superman's protégé, absorbing the lessons of heroism under the unwavering gaze of Earth's greatest champion. While Y/N admired his mentor, he constantly battled with the daunting weight of expectation, struggling to carve out his own identity in the shadow of a living legend.

Amid this journey, Y/N's journey caught the eye of Wonder Girl, a rising star in the superhero world and a key figure in the Teen Titans. She saw something unique in him—a mix of vulnerability and raw strength that reminded her of what it meant to be young, powerful, and searching for purpose. To her, Y/N wasn't just another Kryptonian powerhouse; he was someone with untapped potential and a soul yearning for connection. Wonder Girl believed Y/N could bring something extraordinary to the Titans, a team that embodied the perfect balance between family and fighting force.

One day, Wonder Girl approached Y/N with an invitation that would change the trajectory of his life. She spoke with conviction about the Titans—how they weren't just a team but a close-knit family that thrived on mutual support and understanding. She described the camaraderie, the thrill of standing shoulder-to-shoulder with peers who understood the burden of extraordinary abilities, and the chance for Y/N to grow beyond the long shadow of Superman. Though hesitant at first, Y/N was intrigued. After much thought, he accepted the offer, yearning for a fresh start and the opportunity to prove himself.

Joining the Titans felt like stepping into a new world. The team welcomed him warmly, their diverse personalities forming a vibrant and chaotic tapestry of young heroism. Beast Boy wasted no time cracking jokes to break the ice, while Starfire's infectious enthusiasm made Y/N feel immediately at home. Even Raven, with her enigmatic demeanor, offered a quiet nod of approval. Missions with the team were exhilarating, pushing Y/N to adapt quickly as he realized just how much his Kryptonian powers could contribute. Yet, not everything was seamless, especially when he met the Titans' leader, Tim Drake.

Tim, the third Robin and a tactical genius, was the polar opposite of Y/N. Where Y/N relied on instinct and raw power, Tim was meticulous, deliberate, and calculated. From the moment they met, their personalities clashed like oil and water. Strategy meetings became arenas for subtle confrontations; Y/N often suggested daring, high-risk plans fueled by his confidence in his abilities, while Tim meticulously picked apart every flaw in his proposals. Tim's cold, analytical tone grated on Y/N's nerves, and Y/N's impulsive nature frustrated Tim to no end.

Their friction extended to the battlefield. Y/N's instinct to leap headfirst into danger often disrupted Tim's carefully laid plans. While his intentions were always noble—saving teammates, defusing threats before they escalated—Tim saw his actions as reckless, a disregard for the chain of command. Meanwhile, Y/N bristled at what he perceived as Tim's unwillingness to trust his instincts or acknowledge his contributions. The tension simmered, turning every mission into a secondary battleground between them.

For the rest of the team, the dynamic was impossible to ignore. Beast Boy jokingly referred to them as "frenemies," though the underlying tension was no laughing matter. Starfire tried to mediate with her boundless optimism, while Raven remained characteristically silent, though her raised brow often betrayed her amusement at their constant bickering. Despite the volatility, neither Y/N nor Tim could deny the other's strengths. Y/N couldn't help but respect Tim's brilliance, even if he found his rigid demeanor insufferable. Likewise, Tim begrudgingly acknowledged—if only to himself—that Y/N's raw power and instincts had saved the team more times than he cared to admit.

Their relationship became a powder keg of competition and unspoken respect. Y/N pushed Tim to loosen his grip on control, while Tim forced Y/N to think before acting. Each encounter between them was a battle of wills, with the team holding their breath to see whether the two would eventually find common ground—or explode into an all-out clash. One thing was certain: their rivalry, however tense, was driving them both to new heights. Whether it would ultimately end in mutual respect or irrevocable division was a question only time would answer.

Tim leaned against the counter in the Titans Tower common area, a steaming cup of coffee in hand, his sharp gaze fixed on the scene outside. The sprawling lawn just beyond the glass windows was alive with activity, the sounds of laughter and playful banter filtering faintly through the thick panes. Y/N was at the center of it, locked in an impromptu game of tag with Superboy and Beast Boy. The grin on his face was wide and unapologetically mischievous as he blurred across the lawn with Kryptonian speed, effortlessly dodging Beast Boy, who had taken on the sleek, feathered form of a falcon.

Hovering nearby, Superboy—arms crossed and a smirk tugging at his lips—watched the spectacle with amusement. "Really, Y/N? That's the best you've got? You call that fast?" Conner teased, his tone full of mock arrogance.

Y/N laughed, his voice bright and unrestrained. "Faster than you, Conner. Want me to prove it?" He suddenly shot upward, hovering in the air just long enough to taunt his feathered pursuer. "Come on, bird-boy, step it up!"

Beast Boy swooped low in an attempt to tag Y/N, only for the Kryptonian to spin out of his reach at the last moment, landing gracefully on the grass below. The crunch of his boots barely registered before he was off again, the game picking up in intensity.

Inside, Tim's jaw tightened as he watched the carefree display. He brought his coffee mug to his lips, taking a deliberate sip as his eyes narrowed. To Tim, this wasn't just harmless fun; it was yet another example of Y/N's irresponsibility, his refusal to take anything seriously. The longer Tim watched, the more his irritation simmered until it became impossible to ignore. He turned away abruptly, setting his mug down on the counter with a little too much force.

Cassie Sandsmark, lounging lazily on the nearby couch with her legs draped over one armrest and her phone in hand, caught the telltale signs of Tim's brewing frustration. She didn't even bother looking up as she spoke. "Okay, Tim. Just say it. You're dying to rant."

Tim shot her a look before pacing a few steps across the room, his agitation evident. "You want to know what drives me crazy, Cassie? That." He jabbed a finger toward the window, where Y/N had just tackled Conner, both of them laughing as they rolled onto the grass.

Cassie arched an eyebrow, finally setting her phone down as her curiosity got the better of her. "What, exactly, is 'that'? Two Kryptonians having fun? Beast Boy living his best animal life? Or the fact that you can't relate to any of it?"

"It's not about the goofing off," Tim snapped, though the sharpness in his voice betrayed him. "It's about Y/N. He's impossible, Cassie. Ever since he joined this team, he's been nothing but a headache. He doesn't follow orders. He doesn't respect plans. He just... does whatever he wants! Like the rest of us are just here to clean up after him."

Cassie leaned forward, her interest piqued. "Come on, Tim. Y/N's not that bad. He's just... spirited. Like you were when you started. And—"

"Don't compare him to me," Tim interrupted, his voice tight with irritation. "When I started, I knew how to follow orders. I wasn't out there flying around, heat vision blazing, acting like I could solve everything on my own."

Cassie tilted her head, a smirk tugging at her lips. "No, Tim, you were just dressing up in green tights and trying to keep up with Batman. Totally different."

Tim ignored the jab, continuing his tirade as he gestured toward the window. "Look at Conner. He's Kryptonian too. But do you see him acting like that? No. Conner listens. He works with the team. He doesn't treat this like it's some kind of playground."

Cassie let out a short laugh as she stood, stretching her arms above her head. "Tim, Conner used to wear leather jackets and call himself Superman 2.0. And you think Y/N's cocky?"

Tim rolled his eyes but pressed on, undeterred. "At least Conner's grown up. He's reliable. Y/N? He's all ego. He thinks just because he's Kryptonian, he doesn't have to follow the rules."

Cassie crossed her arms and stepped closer, her tone growing serious. "Or maybe you just don't like him because he's not you, Tim. Y/N challenges you. And let's be honest—you don't like being challenged."

Tim opened his mouth to argue but faltered, his expression darkening as he turned his gaze back to the window. Outside, Y/N had picked up Beast Boy—now in the form of a small, squirming cat—and was holding him aloft while laughing. Conner stood nearby, shaking his head in mock disapproval but clearly enjoying himself.

"I don't know, Cassie," Tim admitted finally, his voice quieter. "He's just... exhausting. A pain."

Cassie's expression softened, and she reached out to clap him on the shoulder. "He's your pain, Tim. And whether you like it or not, he's part of this team now. You'll figure it out. You always do."

With that, she turned and left, leaving Tim alone with his thoughts. His eyes lingered on the scene outside, a mix of frustration and reluctant curiosity swirling in his mind. For all of Y/N's recklessness, there was something about him that Tim couldn't quite dismiss. Whether it was admiration or simply annoyance, Tim wasn't sure. But one thing was certain—this wasn't the last time Y/N would challenge everything Tim thought he knew about leadership.

The Teen Titans gathered in the dimly lit briefing room, the usual buzz of camaraderie replaced by a suffocating tension. Conner had been missing for three days after not returning from a mission. His disappearance felt like a gaping hole in the team's core, but for Tim, it was personal. Conner wasn't just a teammate—he was his best friend, his brother. The loss was a wound, raw and urgent, that spurred Tim into overdrive. He had spent every waking moment combing through leads, piecing together fragments of evidence. Now, he stood before the team, every detail meticulously prepared, determined not to fail.

The holographic display of a sprawling research facility flickered to life above the central console, casting a blue glow over the somber faces of the Titans. Seated around the table, Wonder Girl, Starfire, Beast Boy, Raven, and Y/N studied the image. Each wore expressions of determination laced with unease. Even Starfire's usual warmth seemed dimmed under the weight of the situation.

Tim stood at the head of the table, his posture rigid and his voice steady as he began. "This is where they're holding Conner. A black-site research facility just outside Metropolis. No name, no public record, but the tech they're using? It's advanced. Advanced enough to take down a Kryptonian." His jaw tightened. "We don't have time to figure out who's backing them or why. The only thing that matters is getting Conner back—alive."

He tapped a control panel, and the hologram zoomed in on the facility's layout, revealing a labyrinth of corridors, fortified walls, and clusters of patrol patterns. "I've analyzed their defenses. Armed guards, surveillance drones, motion detectors. They've planned for intrusions, which means they'll be ready for us. But they've also made mistakes." He pointed to a section of the hologram. "These are their weak points. Here's the plan."

The room grew quieter as Tim's voice took on its characteristic precision. "Cassie, Starfire, Beast Boy—you'll approach from the north. Cause a distraction. Loud and chaotic. Make them think it's a full assault." Cassie nodded firmly, her fingers gripping the hilt of her lasso. Starfire's green eyes glimmered with a determined light, and Beast Boy gave a quick thumbs-up, his usual humor replaced by grim resolve.

Tim continued. "Meanwhile, Raven, Y/N, and I will infiltrate from the south wing." He gestured to a series of ventilation shafts and maintenance access points. "This area is less guarded, but not by much. Once inside, we'll head straight for the central lab. That's where they're likely keeping Conner. We regroup there, neutralize any threats, and get him out. Quick, clean, no unnecessary risks."

The team nodded along, their trust in Tim's leadership evident. All except Y/N, who leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his brow furrowed. His instincts, honed by his Kryptonian heritage and countless battles, often clashed with Tim's rigid, calculated strategies. Now was no different. He stared at the hologram, skepticism etched across his face.

Tim noticed and locked eyes with him, his tone sharpening. "And Y/N," he said, his voice cutting through the room, "I need you to follow the plan. Exactly as I've laid it out."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, leaning forward. "You don't trust me? Is that it?"

Tim didn't waver, his gaze steady and unyielding. "I trust you to do your job, but your impulses are a liability. This mission isn't about showing off or proving anything. It's about Conner's life. If you deviate, if you act on instinct instead of sticking to the plan, you could put him—and all of us—in danger. Do you understand?"

The room fell silent, the tension between the two palpable. Raven glanced between them, her expression unreadable but her fingers twitching faintly, as if bracing for an argument. Cassie shifted in her seat but said nothing, her eyes fixed on Y/N. Even Beast Boy, usually quick with a quip, seemed to hold his breath.

Y/N's jaw tightened, his pride clearly bruised, but after a long pause, he gave a curt nod. "Fine. I'll follow the plan."

Tim didn't blink, didn't soften. He simply nodded back, turning his attention to the rest of the team. "Good. Then suit up. We leave in an hour."

As the Titans rose from their seats and filed out, Y/N lingered for a moment, his eyes still locked on the hologram of the facility. For all his bravado, a flicker of doubt crossed his face. Not about his abilities—he knew what he could do—but about whether following Tim's plan would be enough to save Conner.

Tim watched him from the corner of his eye but didn't say anything. He turned back to the display, his mind already running through every contingency, every possible failure point. Conner's life depended on this plan. On them. And Tim Drake wasn't about to let anything, or anyone, derail it.

The mission unfolded under the shroud of a moonless night, the Titans moving with practiced precision through the shadows. The air buzzed with tension, every member hyper-focused on their role. At the north entrance, Cassie, Starfire, and Beast Boy launched their diversion with dazzling chaos.

Starfire's energy blasts streaked through the dark like falling stars, each impact erupting in a burst of fiery brilliance that sent guards scrambling. Cassie wielded her golden lasso with an elegance that belied its devastating power, the crackling energy binding and electrocuting adversaries in one swift motion. Meanwhile, Beast Boy transformed into a hulking rhino, his massive form barreling through barricades and scattering enemies like toy soldiers. The cacophony of explosions, shouts, and roaring beasts filled the air, drawing the facility's defenders like moths to a flame.

Miles away, on the south wing, Tim Drake led Y/N and Raven with the precision of a seasoned tactician. Every step was calculated, every movement coordinated. They slipped past surveillance cameras and roving patrols, their presence a ghostly whisper in the heavily guarded corridors. Raven's dark portals shimmered with an otherworldly energy, allowing them to bypass locked doors and heavily reinforced checkpoints. Tim's grappling hook hissed as he secured it to overhead beams, pulling himself up with ease before disabling security systems with a flick of his wrist-mounted device.

Y/N followed close behind, his Kryptonian strength restrained but ready to explode into action at a moment's notice. His senses were on edge, his heightened hearing catching every echo, every distant thrum of machinery. He hated the slow, deliberate pace—every instinct screamed at him to act, to smash through the walls and find Conner. But Tim's voice echoed in his mind: Conner's life is on the line. Recklessness could cost him everything.

Tim paused at a junction, holding up a hand to stop the group. He crouched low, his eyes fixed on the glowing map projected from his wrist-mounted device. "We're close," he whispered. "The central lab is just up ahead. Stay quiet."

Raven nodded, her dark eyes scanning the corridor ahead. Y/N clenched his fists, his impatience mounting. He focused on his breathing, forcing himself to fall in line despite the growing urge to break away.

As they crept forward, a faint sound reached Y/N's ears. He froze mid-step, his head tilting slightly as his enhanced hearing kicked into overdrive. It was a voice—low, muffled, but unmistakable. His heart skipped a beat. He strained to hear more, the sound growing clearer with each passing second. It was Conner. He was sure of it.

Y/N's eyes widened, and he turned sharply toward Tim. "Tim," he whispered, his voice taut with urgency. "I hear him. Conner's down that way." He pointed toward a dimly lit side corridor branching off from their path.

Tim's head snapped toward the corridor, his jaw tightening. "We don't know that for sure," he replied, his tone low but firm. "It could be a trap."

"It's not a trap," Y/N shot back, his voice rising slightly. "I know his voice. It's him."

Tim's expression hardened. "And if it's a recording? A lure? We stick to the plan. The central lab is the target. That's where he's most likely being held."

Y/N's frustration flared, his fists clenching at his sides. "I'm not leaving him behind!" he hissed, his Kryptonian instincts screaming to take action.

"Y/N, stand down," Tim ordered, his voice sharp as steel. "That's an order. We can't afford to—"

But before Tim could finish, Y/N shot down the side corridor in a blur, his Kryptonian speed making it impossible for either Tim or Raven to stop him.

"Y/N!" Tim growled through clenched teeth, activating his comm unit. "Get back here! That's an order!" His voice crackled through the comms, but there was no response.

Raven turned her gaze to Tim, her expression unreadable but her tone calm. "Do we follow?"

Tim exhaled sharply, a storm of anger and worry flashing across his face. "No," he said after a moment, his voice tight. "We stick to the plan. If he's right, we'll find Conner. If he's wrong..." He trailed off, his mind already racing through contingencies.

Raven hesitated but nodded, her dark energy swirling faintly around her hands. "Then let's move. The longer we wait, the worse this gets."

Tim glanced down the now-empty corridor where Y/N had disappeared, his jaw tight with frustration. You better be right, Y/N, he thought grimly. With a sharp motion, he gestured for Raven to follow, leading the way toward the central lab.

Y/N followed the faint sound of Conner's voice through a maze of dimly lit corridors, his heart pounding with urgency. Each muffled syllable drew him closer until he arrived at a heavily secured steel door. Without hesitation, he planted his hands on the edges and pushed. The reinforced metal groaned in protest before screeching open under his Kryptonian strength, shards of broken locks clattering to the floor.

The room beyond was dimly lit, bathed in the eerie glow of fluorescent lights reflecting off sleek, metallic surfaces. At the center of the room lay Conner, strapped to a cold, sterile medical table surrounded by intricate machinery humming ominously. Energy bands glowing with a sickly green light pinned his arms and legs in place, the faint pulsation of their glow sapping him of strength.

Y/N's stomach twisted at the sight of his friend. Conner's usually vibrant complexion was ashen, his chest rising and falling weakly. For a moment, all Y/N felt was raw, unfiltered anger—a burning need to tear apart everything and everyone responsible.

"Conner!" he called, stepping further into the room.

The moment his boots hit the floor, his senses prickled. A chill crawled up his spine as an all-too-familiar voice echoed from the shadows.

"Well, well," the voice drawled, smooth and venomous. "If it isn't Superman's understudy."

Y/N's head snapped toward the corner of the room, and Lex Luthor emerged from the shadows, his sharp suit immaculate and his calculating smirk razor-sharp. In his hand, a small shard of Kryptonite glowed menacingly, its green hue casting ghostly shadows across his face.

"Did you really think you could storm in here unchallenged?" Lex said, his tone dripping with mockery. "You Kryptonians are so predictable. Always so... impulsive."

Y/N gritted his teeth, his fists clenching so tightly that his knuckles turned white. The nausea from the Kryptonite's presence gnawed at his insides, but he forced himself to stay focused. His eyes flicked between Conner's prone form and Lex, weighing his options.

"Let him go," Y/N growled, his voice low and dangerous.

Lex's smirk deepened. "Oh, I don't think so. Conner here is... special. A masterpiece, really. A perfect blend of Kryptonian and human DNA. And you? You're just another reckless child playing dress-up."

Y/N didn't wait for Lex to finish. He surged forward, pushing through the Kryptonite's weakening effects as his singular focus honed in on Conner. Reaching the table, he grabbed the glowing restraints and ripped them apart with a burst of raw strength. Sparks flew, and the machinery around him sparked and whined in protest.

"Y/N..." Conner mumbled weakly, his eyelids fluttering open. His voice was hoarse, barely audible. "You shouldn't... be here."

"Save it," Y/N said, gently helping him off the table. "We're getting out of here."

But before they could move, a sharp click echoed through the room. Y/N turned just in time to see Lex pull out a sleek pistol, its barrel glowing faintly green. His eyes widened in realization, but the Kryptonite in his system dulled his reflexes.

Lex fired. The Kryptonite bullet struck Y/N in the side, the pain exploding through his body like liquid fire. He staggered, his knees hitting the floor as a strangled cry escaped his lips. His vision blurred, and every breath felt like shards of glass slicing through his lungs.

"Foolish," Lex sneered, stepping closer, his weapon trained on Y/N's chest. "You Kryptonians are all the same—fragile in the face of real power. And you've made this far too easy."

Y/N fought to stay upright, clutching his side as blood seeped through his fingers. The room spun, but his focus remained on Conner, who was still too weak to fight.

Lex smirked, raising the gun. "Goodbye, boy."

Before he could pull the trigger, a golden blast of energy tore through the air, knocking the weapon from Lex's hand. He stumbled back in shock as the Titans burst into the room.

Starfire's glowing fists lit up the space like twin suns as she launched another energy blast, forcing Lex to retreat further. "Step away from them!" she commanded, her voice ringing with authority.

Wonder Girl charged in next, her lasso of lightning crackling with raw power. "You're done, Luthor!" she shouted, her eyes blazing with determination.

Behind them, Raven's dark magic filled the room, swirling around Y/N and Conner like a protective cocoon. Shadows danced across the walls as she focused her energy on shielding them from further harm.

Lex scowled, his perfect composure cracking. He glanced between the advancing Titans and the exit, weighing his options. "This isn't over," he hissed, retreating toward a hidden door at the far end of the room. With the press of a button on his wrist, a metallic door slid open, and he disappeared into the shadows.

"Coward," Cassie muttered, already turning her attention to Y/N.

The room fell silent except for the hum of dying machinery and Y/N's labored breaths. Tim was the first to reach him, dropping to his knees beside his teammate. Blood pooled around Y/N's side, the Kryptonite bullet still embedded in his flesh. His skin was pale, and his breathing shallow.

"Y/N," Tim said urgently, his voice steadier than the panic in his eyes. "Stay with me. We'll get you out of here."

"I'm fine," Y/N muttered weakly, though the strain in his voice betrayed him. "Get Conner out first."

"Stop talking," Tim snapped, his tone sharper than he intended. He pulled a small medkit from his utility belt, his hands moving with practiced precision. "You're not fine. That bullet is still in you."

Raven knelt beside him, her hands glowing with dark energy. "I can slow the effects," she said calmly, though her expression was tense. "But we need to get him back to the Tower. Fast."

Conner, still leaning heavily on Cassie for support, looked at Y/N with a mix of guilt and gratitude. "Y/N... I'm sorry. I never should've—"

"Don't," Y/N interrupted, forcing a faint smile despite the pain. "You'd do the same for me, Kon."

Tim's jaw tightened as he helped lift Y/N to his feet, his earlier frustration giving way to something softer. "We'll talk about your reckless decisions later," he muttered, his voice quieter now. "Right now, let's get you out of here."

With the team covering their retreat, the Titans made their way out of the facility, battered but victorious. Y/N, barely conscious, leaned on Tim as they moved. For all the annoyance and tension between them, Tim couldn't shake the thought that losing Y/N wasn't an option he was willing to consider. Not now. Not ever.

Tim stood just outside the medbay of Titans Tower, his shoulders stiff and his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his utility belt. He leaned against the wall, his eyes locked on the scene inside. Y/N lay unconscious on the operating table, his normally vibrant complexion pale and lifeless. The faint hum of machinery filled the air, the glow of Kryptonite-removal equipment casting an unsettling green light over the room. Cyborg was hunched over Y/N, his mechanical fingers moving with the kind of precision only he could manage, carefully extracting every trace of the deadly Kryptonite bullet from the Kryptonian's body.

Tim's jaw tightened as he watched, his mind a storm of emotions he couldn't control. Worry. Frustration. Guilt. He was used to pressure, to life-or-death situations, but this felt different. Y/N wasn't just another teammate—he was family. And now, all Tim could do was stand there, helpless, as Cyborg worked to save him.

The sound of footsteps behind him pulled Tim from his spiraling thoughts. He turned to see Conner Kent approaching, still visibly drained from his own ordeal. The usually confident Superboy leaned against the doorway for support, his face etched with guilt and worry.

"How's he doing?" Conner asked, his voice quiet but heavy.

Tim exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. "Cyborg's got the bullet out, but the Kryptonite poisoned his system. It's going to take time for his body to recover. He's stable... for now." Though Tim's tone was measured, there was no mistaking the tightness in his voice.

Conner's gaze shifted to Y/N, lying motionless on the table. His fists clenched at his sides. "He saved me," he said after a moment, his voice thick with guilt. "If he hadn't come after me... if he hadn't—"

"He shouldn't have had to," Tim interrupted, sharper than he intended. Conner flinched at the words, but Tim didn't stop. "None of this should've happened."

Tim sighed, leaning back against the wall as his anger ebbed, replaced by exhaustion. He crossed his arms, staring down at the floor. "I told him to stick to the plan," he muttered, his voice quieter now. "I begged him to stick to the plan. But no—Y/N being Y/N, he had to go charging in like a hero."

Conner straightened slightly, his guilt replaced by a flicker of defiance. "He is a hero, Tim. He saved me."

Tim looked up, his eyes narrowing. "And he almost got himself killed doing it. Do you even realize how reckless that was? He ran off without backup, straight into a trap set by Lex Luthor! He got lucky this time, Conner. But what about next time? What happens if he doesn't make it out?"

Conner's jaw tightened, his voice low but firm. "You think I wanted him to get hurt for me? I didn't. But he did what he had to do. Just like you would've."

Tim opened his mouth to argue but stopped himself, the words catching in his throat. He stared at Conner, frustration and understanding warring in his expression. Finally, he leaned back against the wall, running a hand over his face.

"He drives me crazy," Tim admitted, his voice softer now. "He's reckless. Impulsive. Half the time it feels like he's actively trying to make me lose my mind. But he's also... brave. He cares about this team, about the people he's fighting for, more than anything else. And yeah, he saved your life tonight. I respect him for that."

Conner's expression softened, and for a moment, the two of them stood in silence, their gazes drawn to Y/N. The rhythmic beeping of the monitors filled the quiet, a small reassurance that their friend was still fighting.

Finally, Cyborg stepped out of the medbay, pulling off his surgical gloves. He looked exhausted but satisfied as he addressed them. "He's gonna be okay," Cyborg said, his voice steady. "I got all the Kryptonite out, and his system's stabilizing. He's not out of the woods yet, but with rest and some time, he'll make a full recovery."

Tim exhaled sharply, relief flooding through him. "Thanks, Vic," he said quietly, his voice carrying more emotion than he intended.

Cyborg nodded, offering them a reassuring smile before heading down the hall. Conner leaned heavily against the doorframe, his shoulders sagging with relief. Tim, meanwhile, stayed rooted in place, his eyes never leaving Y/N.

"You should tell him that," Conner said suddenly, breaking the silence.

Tim glanced at him, frowning. "Tell him what?"

Conner smirked faintly. "All that stuff about respecting him. You know, before you start chewing him out for breaking the plan again."

Tim rolled his eyes, though a small, reluctant smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I'll think about it."

They stood there for a moment longer, watching as Y/N's chest rose and fell with steady breaths. The tension that had gripped the Tower for hours was finally beginning to ease, replaced by the quiet strength of their bond. For all their arguments, all the mistakes and risks, they were a team. And in that moment, Tim knew one thing for certain: he'd fight just as hard for Y/N as Y/N had for Conner.

They would get through this. Together.

The past few days had blurred into a haze of recovery for Y/N. After surviving the mission, the Kryptonite wound, and the chaos of Lex Luthor's escape, he was confined to the medbay at Titans Tower. His Kryptonian physiology had worked overtime to heal him, but the lingering effects of Kryptonite poisoning slowed his usual rapid recovery. Every movement sent a dull ache radiating from his side, and exhaustion hung over him like a heavy cloud. He hated feeling vulnerable, trapped in bed while the team moved forward without him.

What Y/N hadn't expected, though, was Tim's constant presence.

Tim wasn't known for his warmth. He was the strategist, the tactician—the one who held the team together with sharp focus and relentless discipline. But since Y/N had stabilized, Tim had been a near-constant fixture in the medbay. Y/N would drift in and out of restless sleep, only to find Tim sitting nearby, flipping through mission reports or scrolling through data on his tablet. At first, Y/N thought it was a coincidence, but by the third day, it was clear: Tim wasn't just checking in; he was hovering.

The morning light filtered dimly through the reinforced windows as Y/N stirred awake, groggy but alert. The soft whoosh of the medbay door opening caught his attention, and he turned his head to see Tim walking in, balancing a tray in one hand and a folder in the other.

"Is that...?" Y/N rasped, his voice hoarse from disuse.

"Chicken noodle soup," Tim replied without missing a beat. He set the tray on the bedside table with a practiced ease, as if he'd done this a hundred times before. "Figured you'd be tired of Raven's herbal remedies by now."

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the gesture. A faint smirk tugged at his lips as he propped himself up on his elbows, wincing slightly at the motion. "Didn't peg you for the soup-delivery type, Drake."

Tim raised an eyebrow, pulling up a chair and sitting down. "I didn't make it. I'm not a miracle worker," he said, his tone dry. "Picked it up from that diner downtown. Best chicken noodle soup in the city."

Y/N chuckled softly, though the movement made his side throb. "Wow. I didn't know you had a nurturing side. What's next? Tucking me in?"

Tim rolled his eyes but didn't respond to the jab. Instead, he unfolded a napkin and placed it neatly next to the bowl, his movements precise and deliberate. "Eat," he instructed, gesturing toward the tray. "You need to keep your strength up."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, more curious than amused now. "Okay, seriously, what's going on with you? You've been checking on me like clockwork. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate it, but... it's a little out of character."

Tim hesitated for a moment, his usual composed demeanor faltering just enough for Y/N to notice. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he met Y/N's gaze. "You almost died," he said bluntly. His voice was even, but the weight behind his words was unmistakable. "And before you give me the 'Kryptonians bounce back' speech, don't. Kryptonite changes everything. We didn't know if you were going to make it, and I—" He stopped himself, glancing away briefly before continuing. "I don't want to go through that again."

Y/N's smirk faded, replaced by a look of quiet surprise. He wasn't used to seeing Tim like this—unguarded. Vulnerable. "Tim, I'm fine," he said, though the words came out softer than he intended. "You don't have to—"

"I'm going to, whether you like it or not," Tim interrupted, his voice firm. "You're not fine yet. And until you are, I'm going to make sure you have what you need. Even if that means... soup."

Y/N studied him for a long moment, the teasing gone from his expression. There was something unspoken in Tim's words, a guilt he hadn't voiced. "You're blaming yourself," Y/N said quietly.

Tim's jaw tightened, and he looked away, staring at the wall as if it held the answers he couldn't give. "If I'd handled the mission better—if I'd planned for Luthor, accounted for the Kryptonite—none of this would've happened."

"That's not on you," Y/N said, his voice firm despite the ache in his side. "I made the choice to go after Conner. Nothing you could've done would've stopped me."

Tim shook his head, frustration flashing across his face. "You shouldn't have had to make that choice. It's my job to keep this team safe, to make sure everyone gets out in one piece. And you—"

"I'm still here," Y/N interrupted, his tone steady. "You did your job, Tim. You got us out. You saved me."

Tim sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly as the tension eased. "Doesn't mean I'm not going to make sure you're okay now."

Y/N let out a soft laugh, the sound carrying more warmth than amusement. "You're stubborn, you know that?"

Tim smirked faintly, leaning back in his chair. "Takes one to know one."

The room fell into a comfortable silence. Y/N finally picked up the spoon and took a tentative sip of the soup. It was warm and surprisingly good, a welcome change from the bland nutrient packs he'd been stuck with. He glanced at Tim out of the corner of his eye, a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips.

"You know," Y/N said, his tone light but teasing, "if you keep this up, I might start thinking you actually like me."

Tim scoffed, his smirk widening slightly. "Don't push your luck."

For the rest of the afternoon, Tim stayed by Y/N's side, quietly flipping through mission reports while Y/N finished his soup. It wasn't a grand gesture, and Tim would never make a big deal out of it. But to Y/N, it meant more than words could say. For all of Tim's stoic exterior, his actions spoke volumes. And in that moment, Y/N realized something he hadn't before: Tim Drake cared. In his own stubborn, meticulous way, he cared. And that made all the difference.

[trevorsgodmother]

𝓘 𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶 𝓸𝓯 𝓱𝓮𝓻…(C.S 🌧)-pt. 2

ALL PARTS Warnings: Angst, CRYING, denial, heavy descriptions, mentions of accident, yelling POV: Third person/first person(Chris) Summary: Y/N's been gone for so long...but Chris still isn't used to it

It feels like he’s been laying here, with her, for years. Chris looks down at his girlfriend, smiling. But the sight of her eyes filling up wipes the look off his face. His heart clenches as he hugs her tighter, hoping his warmth will sooth her. 

“Babe…what’s wrong?” He asks, concern filling his features. She locks eyes with him, and sobs, burying her face into his chest.  “Chris…stop doing this. Please. STOP” He flinches at her hurt and accusatory tone. Anxiety fills his stomach as he tries to make sense of her words. Stop doing what? 

“What’re you talkin-” “Stop dreaming about me. Please.” His face crumples, and tears begin to sting his eyes too.  “I can’t-” “Why?” She chokes out, gripping his shirt like a lifeline, more to help ground him than her. “I just-” Chris’ breathing picks up, his eyes overflowing. He doesn’t want to wake up and lose her again…

“I don’t want you to go...”

"You need to Chris. For you. For me. Go find a new girlfriend or something" Her voice breaks even suggesting this. He didn’t want to. He never wanted to move on. It would feel like he was being unfaithful, since they hadn’t broken up before she died. It had been a freak accident on the highway, one he felt guilt for every day of his life. Chris tries to convince himself that it's only his subconscious trying to help him. But it's her face, her voice, her smell, her... everything, and he feels awful for doing something he can't control.

A smile forms on her wet face as she lifts a hand to brush away his tears. “I only want you, not anyone else.” He’s almost pleading. For her to come back, into his arms, both their happy places. “I’m not there though Chris…” she whispers softly. His body shakes with silent sobs, holding her tighter as if it’ll change everything and this time, he’ll wake up with her still there.

“I don’t want to go on- I miss you so much-” “Do you want me to stop coming at night?” Her words make him freeze. He’s clinging onto her like a scared child, almost to a point of desperation.

“No- no, please don’t. Don’t leave me-”

(Chris' POV)

I jolt awake, head pounding as I feel a hand on my shoulder. I look up to see Matt and Nick, the prior being the owner of the hand, the latter with tears in his eyes. “Chris… are you ok? You were crying so loud” His words make me wince, guilt hitting me right in the stomach. My body couldn’t tell the difference between my dreams and reality anymore, so the emotions I felt in my nightmares sometimes came out in my sleep.

I cover my face with my hands, letting out silent sobs. I couldn’t bear to see my brothers so upset. Because of me. I shake my head, the dream still so clear in my mind. A part of me just wanted to sleep forever, to escape this world just so I could see her again. “I’m sorry- I just- I just miss her” I let Matt hug me, feeling like a broken record because of these increasingly realistic night terrors. “We need to stop these dreams…” I instantly recoil at my brother’s mumble. I shake my head harder than before. It felt like everyone was suddenly telling me to stop. “No, I don’t want to.” My words are firm, but my voice wavers. Matt’s expression softens.

“Chris, they’re destroying you. Besides, you know it’s not actually…her, right?” Nick’s in the background, wiping his eyes. I nod slowly, my eyes filling up again. It’s like I had an infinite supply of tears, I always had enough to cry. The dreams had become a way for me to cope, and the thought of the emptiness I would feel if I didn’t have them made me sick.

(Third person) “I know, but- But I still want to see her, even if it isn’t really her. I don’t care…” Matt’s patience reaches its limit. Yes, he felt horrible for his brother, yes, he would never know what he felt, yes he was suffering, but-

“Chris” He snaps. He’s tired of it. Anytime they’d come up with a solution, it’s like the youngest triplet would shoot it down just for the sake of it. Which of course wasn’t the case. Chris flinches at his tone, suddenly quietening down and fiddling with his blanket. Matt’s gaze softens and his shoulders droop at the sight. Nick is standing there, shocked that his brother just yelled at their younger one. “We’ll be right back” Nick murmurs angrily, grabbing Matt’s arm and dragging him outside. Chris only hears half the berating and cursing Nick directs towards his older brother. He just lays back down, not wanting to hear anymore fighting, and tries to go back to sleep.

But he can’t. After countless minutes of tossing and turning, his brothers having left to go back upstairs, he sits up and grabs his phone. This was another definitely unhealthy coping mechanism, but he doesn’t care anymore. He tries to veer off his usual path of clicking into the photo’s app, ping-ponging through different socials that had been long abandoned. He grows frustrated of the no-longer entertaining doom-scrolling, and gives in. As the pictures load, he navigates onto the home screen and clicks on her album.

(Chris' POV)

She’s grinning in all of them, some alone, others with me and friends. I scroll through each picture, my face softening at the familiar face and smile I’d loved for years. I spend a little more time studying pictures of us two, grabbing on each other, laughing, kissing, enjoying being with each other. It was hard to accept the fact that she was no longer here, that the life in the pictures had been taken away from her and was slowly being drained from me. I pause on some pictures she sent me a week before the accident. She’s posing in some of her new clothes, looking proud of her purchases. So vibrant and energetic, a light overshadowing everything else in the room. A fresh wave of grief washes over me as I swallow a sob. She looked so happy…

I try swiping more, but to my horror, I can’t. That’s it. A beautiful life on her own, a 3-year friendship with all three of us, then a 2 year relationship with me, all narrowed down to just a few hundred photos. The finality of it all hits me hard, the full realisation that I’d never take another picture of her, get daily outfit pics, make more memories. She was gone and this was all I had left. The last pieces of her, and it would never be enough. It hits too hard.

I don’t realise that I’ve started crying again until Nick runs back in, my mattress dipping under the weight as he hugs me to his chest. I melt into the hug, cries increasing in volume now that I was being comforted. I grip onto him tightly, as if letting go would mean he disappeared too. I know I don’t show it enough, but they’re the only things grounding me now. My sobs slowly begin to subside, though a few still escape here and there as I try to catch my breath. I grip onto Nick just a little more, needing contact. After a moment, I manage to speak with a rough and broken voice. “I- I’m sorry.” Nick hated hearing me apologise.

“Shhh, don’t say sorry, we’re not mad.” “Are you sure?” I ask quietly, looking up with tired, teary eyes. “Yes. We can’t be. And we never will. None of this is your fault, ok?” I just nod, my lips trembling slightly as I try to swallow down another sob. Deep down, I know what happened isn’t my fault, it was just a horrible misfortune. But I can’t help the guilt that eats away at me, for surviving when she didn’t, for going on with life when hers was cut short in an instant. I look back down, the weight of it all making my head feel fuzzy and heavy.  

Nick interrupts what was about to be another downwards spiral. “Me and Matt talked…and we want you to sleep in one of our rooms again. Not every night, and only if you want. It doesn’t matter who’s. Or we could sleep in yours? Do you want to do that?” I’m a little quiet for a moment. The thought of sleeping in the same room as someone else, for the first time in 3 months, was a little daunting. But it would be comforting and help me feel less alone at nighttime. My voice cracks, and Nick’s face lights up in shock and slight excitement as I speak.

“Yea…I think I’d like that.”

A/N: Extra long bc I felt bad for leaving this for two weeks. I already have the last sentence of the last part planned heehee Taglist: @hearts4werka @stvrnzcherries @m00nl1ghts1vt @spaghetti835928383 @pvssychicken @moonlightsturns @snowysosturn

Don't steal MWAAAHHHHH Dividers by @bernardsbendystraws <3 -Ropitipop 👁👅👁

[deleteddewewted]

Supermarket Romance P6

Demetrian Titus x Gn! Reader

S: Titus and you meet up at the supermarket to help him find a compression sleeve for his leg. He's excited to spend time with you and receive help. He opens up a but more about himself and you soon realize that the mysterious stranger is actually just as vulnerable as you.

MDNI

W: Some Abelism, Angst, Fluff, Feelings Are Discovered, Chairon Is Mentioned, Lust and Feelings

If you want to buy me a Ko-fi

Taglist: @kingmagnificolover @garlickedbreads @eliferraris @justeverythingnothingelse @absent-still @laura-naruto-fan1998 @lichkingofangmar @hatsubara-8chan @riokunova @sk-3-tch @futtorliya @missmannequin

Previous/Next

Titus was waiting outside the supermarket on a bench that was placed near the entrance, his cane leaning against the wall next to him as he awaited your arrival. He had forgone pants again and instead went with loose shorts as he had concluded that he might need to try on some of the compression sleeves. He wore his brace again, his leg was acting up and he needed the support to walk. This weather did not agree with him. His leg and joints complained as he got dressed to leave his home and he hoped that this trip would be quick so he could go back to his warm home. Though, the anxiety wouldn't let him rush you by texting you or calling you. He wanted to see you as this would be the first time he would be purposefully spending time with you.

He looked out towards the parking lot, his car parked closer to the store as he didn't feel like walking all that much on the way back. He thought about leaving his cane in the car at first, maybe it would make him look less pathetic, and yet he brought it with him. You had seen it already and hadn't made a negative comment about it. He looked down at his leg brace and wondered why you hadn't mocked him. He was abnormal in appearance, his once unscarred and clear face was now draped with age and uncanny injuries that would leave anyone starring in horror. He was deep in thought to the point he hadn't noticed you calling out his name.

“Titus! It’s good to see you again! Come on, you’ll get sunburnt if you stay outside.” You stopped in front of him, a smile plastered on your face. You looked comfortable, baggy oversized pants that he could only assume were pajama pants and a loose shirt that hung over you like a tent draped your body. You were in your sleeping clothing.

"Yeah, when i said i got locked out i mean i got locked out." You explained while giggling.

"I dont know what possessed me to leave my house without changing first but i guess this is the look for the day. Hope you don't mind being seen with me looking like a hot mess." You joked, your eyes lingering on his own as you waited for a response.

"Not at all. Its understandable." He replied back. He tried his best not to stare to much but he couldn't help but think you looked like a child who had stolen their parent's clothes. You were drowning in your clothes and he knew you probably were more comfortable than he was. How he envied you and your lack of care for others' opinions on your apperance.

"Let's head in. The suns only getting hotter and the weather is going to get cooler later on. Maybe if were lucky we'll get rain tonight."

“Of course.” He stood up, grabbed his cane, and used it to lift himself up from the bench he was sitting on. His leg began to tremble, he didn't feel stable putting weight on it. He looked down and glared at it, his face red with embarrassment.

“Here," You get closer to him, bending down to wrap your arm around his waist and under his shoulder, "Use my shoulder.” Titus tensed for a moment as he felt your body next to his own, your hand placed next to his side as you leaned in to give him your body as a support. He relaxed and took your support to get up and find his footing. You both stood there for a moment, you holding his waist as he tried to lean his weight away from you in fear that he would crush you with his weight.

“Thank you.” His voice was soft, almost like a whisper as he thanked you.

“No problem.” You reassured him with a smile. You waited for him to feel comfortable walking before letting him lead the way inside the store.

Once inside, you ask him to follow you to the far right side of the store towards the pharmacy. Titus followed close behind as you made your way down the different departments before reaching your destination. A long line of people were waiting to pick up their prescriptions by the pharmacy counter as you walked past them towards the aisle you were intending. Placed right next to the pain medication and muscle cream was a wall full of different types of braces, compression sleeves, and mobility aids. Titus was almost embarrassed to say he didn’t know this section of the store existed. In his defense, he didn’t get his medication from the store, he just picked it up at the pharmacy at the hospital. And in the cases in which he needed muscle relaxers or creams, he ordered them online because he didn't want to interact with a cashier. You stopped in front of the giant shelf of items and began looking through them before turning to face him.

“Let’s get you something that’s tight enough to smooth out under your clothes but not too tight that it’s uncomfortable. Would you say your leg is a Large or an Extra Large?” You crouched down and started pulling different colored compression sleeves, some were adorned in fun patterns while others were neutral colors like black or beige.

“E- Excuse me?” He stuttered out. He blinked at you, hoping to get clarity on what you asked him but none came to him.

“Extra large it is!” You pulled a skin-toned sleeve and pressed it against his exposed leg to see if the color matched. It wasn't an exact match but it was close enough to not be noticeable at a glance.

“Do you want something that looks like your skin color or do you want to go with the basic black sleeve?” You ask as you grab another sleeve.

“The black sleeve should suffice.” You nodded at his comment before undoing it from its hooked packaging. It slit out in one piece and handed it over to him.

“Go ahead and put it on, see if it feels comfortable or not.” You watched as he slipped it on, his other leg flexing as he balanced on it to slip the sleeve over his shoe and pull it up his leg. He hiked it up as much as he could, you could still see the defined muscles under the fabric. You had to pry your eyes away from the mouth watering sight.

As he placed his leg down he began flexing and unflexing his now covered leg and swung it a little just to see how it felt. He liked the tightness and the appearance, it was oddly subtle in appearance since it looked like leggings under his shorts though it was only one sleeve. This worked for him. He liked that it fit with the hobbies he had which were mainly working out. He worked out often and no one would question it, maybe this would also let him wear his leg brace without feeling like he stood out in public.

"It feels good. Almost like a tighter and thicker layer of skin." He commented. he continued to watch as it moved smoothly over the leg brace and didn't prevent his mobility. He wished he would have found out about this sooner.

"Does the size work?" You asked, watching as he examined his leg.

"It does. I think this is perfect for my needs."

"Let's get you some variety so you don't have to worry about doing laundry all the time." With that, you both grabbed a few colors that Titus liked and looked over the rest of the aisle for things he might want to try.

He enjoyed your presence and the patience you showed him. Not only did you not rush him but you also helped him find other items that might help him. From a specialized heating pad meant to be worn on the lower back, to informing him of the joys of a full body massage, you helped make Titus feel more comfortable seeking alternative help for his problems. This was enjoyable in a way he didn’t think it would be. You both probably spent an hour or so just walking up and down the aisles looking around before he even noticed that it was getting late.

“Y/n, I'm sorry for having taken up much of your time. It’s late, allow me to thank you properly for your help.” He offered.

“Titus, don’t be silly. I’m happy to help a friend out. You don’t owe me anything.” You reassured him. You had found an empty basket and had been using it to carry much of his things so he could browse without issue.

“I insist. Is there anything you would like to get?” He insisted. He looked at you directly, hoping that you would agree to get something so that the guilt of spending your time would vanish, but you disagreed.

“Not really from here but, again, don’t worry about it. I’m happy to just hang out with you.” You patted his arm hoping that it would make him stop insisting as it was getting harder to not cave in. His eyes were just too expressive.

“How about this. I’m hungry and don’t feel like cooking. Would you allow me to invite you to a quick meal?” He offered. You don’t know how he managed to do it but this behemoth of a man was making puppy eyes at you unknowingly and it softened your resolve.

“Fine…” You managed to choke out. Your face began heating up and you hoped that he couldn't notice it as he stared at you.

“Perfect. Let me pay for these items and then we’ll find something to eat.” You didn't know what to expect but he put out a small smile that was almost unnoticeable but it engrained itself into your memory. The edge of his mouth quirked up and his expression eased as he looked down at you. It made something in you flutter to life and it left you wanting to see that smile again.

You joined him as he checked out, item after item was bagged, the total of everything slowly amounting to a number you could only dream of having reflected in your bank account. You helped him carry some of the items to his car before hopping into the passenger seat and waiting for him to join you. He didn’t start the car's engine right away, instead, he sat in his seat and waited for a moment before turning his key and bringing the car to life.

“Is there anywhere you personally want to go?” He asked as he pulled out of his parking spot.

“I still have an hour to kill before my landlord shows up, so why not a drive-thru?"

“Perfect.” He drove the two of you to a place close to his apartment. He asked if you wanted to eat in the car or if you wanted to come to his apartment and eat there to which you replied that you would love to go to his place. He feared he might have rushed your friendship, that he might have coerced you into going to his home, but when you agreed he couldn’t have been more ecstatic. He pulled into the drive-thru window of a McDonald's and began listing off the items you both wanted from the menu before thanking the employee and pulling to the next window. He grabbed the orders and paid even though you had tried slipping your card to the employee only to be physically blocked by Titus' body as he handed them his credit card. He drove to his home, meals sitting on the back seat with the rest of his bags as the two of you sat in silence.

"I don't think I ever really told you what I do for a living, did I?" You started the conversation, hoping to kill the silence.

"I made an assumption that you were an artist. Maybe an art instructor."

"I wish. Art teachers get paid consistently. I'm a freelancer." You murmured.

"That sounds fun. You have the freedom to chose what projects you want to take on."

"But I dont have guaranteed employment or pay." The conversation died again but Titus, maybe out of curiosity, reignited it again.

"What's your end goal for your career?" He asked, curiosity dripping from his voice.

"I don't know, Titus. At the moment I just want to be able to pay my bills without worry." You sighed, almost looking deflated in the passenger seat as you looked at him and then out the window without adding anything more. He pulled up to his home and parked before unlocking the car doors and unbuckling his seat belt. He didn't exit just yet, he sat there mulling in silence before speaking.

"What would it take to achieve that goal?"

"Something that's going to be long-term or semi-long term. My last client ended their contract with me cause they claimed they found a 'quicker alternative'." You explained, "Apparently, AI is 'revolutionizing' the business so they no longer need actual artists when they can get art for free." You mope. Titus didn't know how to best comfort you as he didn't understand the greater issue that was being underlined but he did provide you with a hand on your shoulder in a small gesture of reassurance in the form of a smile.

"You will find something soon. I can feel it." With that, you both got out of the car and grabbed the bags from the back seats before entering his apartment. His home was unassuming from the outside, colored in a light beige paint and the door painted brown. When you entered, it was as bearing as you would have assumed it would be. No pictures, no decor, nothing that would scream that someone lived here was evident anywhere in the space except for some blankets on the couch. The kitchen was cleared of cups from its countertop, there were no coffee bags out, no cereals that he might enjoy, there was nothing. Everything looked like it was part of an Ikea display, devoid of personality and it made you sad as it most likely indicated that Titus didn't feel this place was home but a shelter to sleep in.

"I usually eat at my desk, so this will be a welcomed change." He commented.

You smiled up at him before placing some of the bags on the kitchen table and sitting down across from him as you unwrapped your burger and fries. You ate with gusto as you hadn't had take out in a long while. Having not had the budget to order out or even get a cheap meal, you had missed the taste of frozen oil patties and salty fries drenched in day old boiling oil. From the taste to the smell, this cheap meal had been the best thing you've had in a while.

"You seem to be enjoying your meal." Titus teased. The edges of his lips lifted as he watched you eat. You practically inhaled your food and choked on it when he started talking.

"It's been a while since I've had fast food. It's oddly good after a while." You explained, a smile still stuck on your face as you ate. He noticed how crumbs clung to your mouth, your cheeks puffed as you continued to chew on your food. It was a pleasant sight.

"I agree. During my service, i longed for the days we could go off base and purchase food and items we didn't have the luxury to be given." You nodded at his comment before placing your food down and grabbing a napkin to clean your hands.

"You served?" You asked.

"Yes, for a long time." He said it with a sense of longing. You could see it in his eyes again, what he meant. He looked like he was recounting old memories in his mind.

"Must have been one hell of a career if you stayed for so long." You joked, a chuckle escaping you as you resumed eating.

"I would agree. I truly enjoyed what I was doing." The conversation ended as you both continued eating, Titus looked pensive as he ate. He stared at an abandoned piece of food wrapper before he directed himself to you.

"What type of work do you usually make?"

"I usually do illustrations and paintings. I loved traditional art as a teenager and had a focus on it but once I got the chance to study further I opted into graphic design and digital art."

"Why did you expand to graphic design?" He asked.

"My parents told me they would only help with college if I picked up something that would 'pay me money' in the future but i still continued learning and going to fine arts courses." You took another bite out of your burger, chewing a little aggressively as if it had personally offended you.

"You are a jack of all trades, Y/n." He said, voice soft and laced with kindness.

"I guess I am. Just not good at implementing them, I guess." You fired back.

"Would you mind showing me some of your work?"

"Sure, it's mostly on my socials. Let me pull up my profile." You clicked away on your phone before making your way around the table and showing him. Your work was beautiful. Large pieces on canvas that you painted and digital artworks that demonstrated people or environments impressed him. He wasn't one for the arts, the most he did was sing drill songs and drunk karaoke that he didn't even remember from when he was a young soldier, but this was something else. He felt something when he looked at the painting you had depicting a woman lying in a bed of flowers, her brown skin and face delicate as light beads of sunlight showered her face in what could only be described as an angelic touch. Many other drawings of friends, neighbors, and employees of the supermarket were drawn digitally. You even had one of Chairon where he was flexing and showing off his prosthetic arm. Every drawing was outstanding in his opinion and they reflected you perfectly. You had some other posts that depicted your graphic design work, it was just as fun and artistic, to say the least.

"These are beautiful, Y/n. You should submit them to a gallery." He complimented. He turned to face you and he was nose to nose with you. You were so close, he could smell your perfume and get a whiff of your natural scent. Warm and almost honey-like, you were addicting to the point he almost leaned in closer to get a better smell. He couldn't help but let his eyes drop down to your lips which were slightly open. If he wanted to he could lean in and plant a kiss on them. He turned his head to look back at your phone and asked you to explain what one of your sketches was, hoping to distract himself from the fluttering feeling in his stomach. These impure thoughts about you, they were random and unnecessary. He shouldn't be thinking of you in this way, you were clean of sin, clear of damage

You on the other hand were internally panicking at the closeness. God, his scent was strong. He smelled of smoked wood and something you could only describe as masculine musk that clung to him. It was pleasant but it lit a flame in the pit of your stomach you weren't sure how to address. When he had turned around it was almost as if you had gotten staring at him, like he knew you were thinking about him and the way he looked. You got a better look at the faint marks that decorated the right side of his temple, some of them had raised scar tissue from what you could assume was shrapnel that had gotten lodged there and had to be removed, and a long scar that cut through his hairline. He had another set of scars on his nose and cheek that looked more befitting a man who was prone to danger than the gentle soul you had gotten to know. His eyes on you were electrifying, god you want to lean in and kiss him even if his lips were a little chapped. But you don't, instead, you take note of his red ears and how the blush trails down to his cheeks.

You both parted, creating distance between the two of you as you realized you might be making him uncomfortable, his posture was stiff and his breathing shallow. You thanked him for the compliments and asked him if there was anything else he wanted help with so you two could plan further ahead.

"There is nothing that truly comes to mind though I didn't know our worlds were so small."

"What do you mean?" You cocked your head to the side.

"Chairon. He's the security guard at the gym i go to. How did you two know each other?" He explained while gesturing at your phone.

"Chairon bought me a coffee this one time. I was in line and I was waiting to order. The prizes at the shop had increased but I didn't know, so when it was my turn to pay and I was short a few cents, Chairon who was behind me offered to pay the remainder." You talked about the other man with a fond smile on your face. Something about it made Titus feel relieved but something akin to a knot began to form in his stomach.

"Was that the extent of your interaction?" He asked, his eyes focused on your face hoping to see your reaction.

"Nope! Chairon and I became friends, kinda. Sometimes he gives me a ride or advice on how to fix things around my place. I'm not handy at all." This brought a bitter feeling to Titus.

He doesn't dislike Chairon being a good person, the man has always been kind, but he didn't particularly like that he was close to you. This felt like a defect Titus needed to fix. Like he was wrong in some way and he needed to realign his thoughts for thinking so bitterly of a man who has done him no wrong. This knot in his stomach only grew tighter as you reaffirmed the other man's good nature and it left him feeling ill.

"It sounds like you two are close." He commented blankly, hoping that the acrid feelings weren't evident in his voice.

"Chairon's an amazing guy. He's sweet and funny and always there to support you even at your lowest. I'm sure you can find a friend in him too."

"I have. I'm... grateful." He smiled at the memory of the younger man helping him through a panic attack he had recently. Not only did he not judge Titus, but he was helpful. He had brought him cold water and a wet towel to press against his head as he spoke him through it. Chairon had empathy for him that no one else had shown him outside of his small group of friends. It brought him hope and reassurance even though they didn't know each other all that well.

Lost in thought, Titus hadn't noticed your phone begin to vibrate or you checking it to see who had been calling you. The call ended and a notification popped up with the name of your landlord attached.

"Oh shit, it's my landlord. I have to go!" You start to clean up your mess, empty food wrappers and greasy takeout bags were all thrown into the trashcan that stood by the table. Titus followed suit, worried that you would leave in a hurry before he could offer to drive you home. He clears his clean wrappers and also throws them away and makes his way back towards you.

"Let me drive you home. It's late and I don't feel comfortable letting you go home by yourself." He pleaded. You tried not to look at his eyes but the pretty blue eyes he possessed had you in a chokehold. He looked concerned, his crow's feet growing deeper and somehow making him look more handsome. You blushed as you averted your eyes, urging in your mind to reply already as he only seemed to grow more dejected as the seconds ticked by with no response.

"Sure, that would be nice." You managed to push out, cheeks still in flamed and growing hotter by the moment.

"Great, let me grab my keys and we'll go." He made his way to the kitchen counter and grabbed his keys before heading towards his front door, opening it, and holding it for you. He waits until you're out before locking his door and guiding you back to his car. He seats himself in the driver's seat, you following suit as you buckle yourself in beside him. He turned the engine on with a quick flick of his keys and drives off towards your home with the help of his GPS and your directions.

The drive grows quiet as you looked at the window and watched people and cars pass you by. The sky had grown dark and the air cooled as the winter months neared. You liked this time of year and also dreaded it. It was usually nice weather and allowed you to have an excuse to hoddle up in your home in blankets and hoodies. But it also brought on a horrifying electricity bill due to the heater being used the most during this time. You wondered what Titus would think about doing during the winter. It was already starting to take a toll on him, you could see the heating pad on the couch and a mini heater nearby on the floor. You wondered if he worried about the bills like you did. You doubted it since he looked to be doing well for himself but it was still a nice thought, that maybe you and him were not so different after all.

As he pulled onto your street he took note of the state of the neighborhood. Old homes that have been left to rot or have been neglected were everywhere. Even as he pulled over and parked in front of your home he noticed how the paint on your homes walls not only had yellowed over time but also had begun to peel. He understood that people were struggling, and he had no place to judge as he was practically living like he was homeless when he was deployed, but this was something else. He wondered what had led to this being that situation you were thrown in, if you felt comfortable or even safe in this place you called your home.

He noticed a man sitting by the porch with a cigarette in between his fingers. The man waved at you both, no smile present as he he did. You sighed, annoyance already settling in as you began to unbuckle your seat belt. You were about to open the car door but was stopped by Titus' hand reaching out and grabbing you by the wrist. His hold was loose, almost as if he feared that he might hurt you if he tightened his grip.

"Do you want me to... stay until he leave?" You listened to him but the words didn't process. You merely blinked at him.

“I’ll be fine, Demetrian.” You pull your arm away and he gives way without hesitation. He nods at you but not before telling you that he has no issue with waiting if you don’t feel comfortable being left alone.

“It’s sweet of you, but the most he’s going to do is give me a nasty key fee since he had to replace it.” You reassure.

“Well then, I’ll see you some other time.”

“We’ll talk soon. I promise.” You gave him a reassuring smile before closing the car door and making your way over to your landlord. Titus watched as you and the man spoke before shaking his head and driving off.

You eyed Titus’ car as it left, turning to watch it drive and take a turn that made him vanish from your sight.

“Is that your boyfriend?” Your landlord joked. His breath smelled of nicotine and it made you scrunch up your face in disgust.

"No, he's a friend I made when grocery shopping."

"You always get attached to the weirdest people." He comments before leaving your porch and walking towards his car. He peels off with no regard for the other cars on the road or the speed limit. You enter your home, the new key unlocking the door without a hitch, unlike the one you had before. You're home was a mess. Canvasas, sketch paper, portfolios, and drawers filled to the brim with tubes of paint and brushes. The space felt full and yt to you it was empty. You had no pets, you had no other person to share the space with. You were alone coming to live out here just as you were back home where you were always last to receive praise or recognition while your sibling got all of it.

[httpvomitello]

Cold Heart ⁠*⁠.⁠✧ (part 5/final)

cregan stark x targ!reader

(part 4)

Two weeks passed since Cregan had made his journey to Dragonstone, and though the silence between you both remained, there was something heavier in the air now—a tension thick with the weight of unspoken words. Cregan had stayed at Dragonstone, determined to right the wrongs he had done. Despite the coldness between you, he had not left, not again.

At first, you were resolute in your silence, unsure whether you could ever forgive him for the hurt he had caused. But the truth was undeniable: you still cared for him, still yearned for the love you had once hoped would be returned.

And then, one evening, as the sun set behind the dark silhouette of Dragonstone’s jagged cliffs, you felt it. A sickness that had started with a wave of nausea had blossomed into something more. Your chest was heavy, and your hands trembled as you lay in bed, the reality of your situation sinking in.

You were pregnant.

The discovery hit you like a thunderclap, sharp and unexpected. For a long time, you sat still, your hand pressed against your stomach, feeling the life that was growing inside you. This child would be the tie between you and Cregan—whether you liked it or not.

There was a storm of emotions inside you. Anger. Fear. Regret. But there was something else, too. A fragile hope. A hope that maybe, just maybe, things could still be salvaged.

The next morning, you sent for Cregan, your hands trembling as you prepared yourself for what you knew would be another painful conversation. His knock at your door was soft but insistent, and you called for him to enter.

He stood in the doorway for a long moment, his eyes scanning the room before they found you. His face was drawn with worry, and though his posture was firm, you could see the way his jaw tightened in anticipation.

“I received your message,” he said, his voice steady but laced with uncertainty. “What is it you need, Y/N?”

“I need to talk to you,” you said quietly, trying to keep your voice from wavering. “I’ve… I’ve discovered something.”

Cregan stepped into the room, his eyes narrowing with concern as you slowly looked up at him. “What is it?”

Your breath caught as you said the words aloud, each syllable more difficult than the last. “I’m pregnant, Cregan. With your child.”

The words hung in the air, thick with the implications. For a long moment, Cregan said nothing, his gaze locked onto you, his mind seemingly racing as the news settled. His face softened with a look you hadn’t seen from him in months, an almost imperceptible shift in his expression.

“Are you… certain?” His voice was barely above a whisper, disbelief mixing with hope.

“Yes,” you replied, your voice breaking just a little. “I am certain.”

A silence stretched between you, heavy and thick. Cregan looked at you, his brow furrowing as he fought to keep his emotions in check.

“I never intended for this to happen, Y/N,” he said, his voice low but earnest. “I never wanted to bring you any more pain. But I can’t ignore what this means.”

“You’re right,” you replied, your heart pounding. “You can’t ignore it.”

Cregan’s face softened further, and he took a hesitant step forward, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hope. “Then… what will we do?”

You swallowed hard, trying to fight back the swell of emotions threatening to overtake you. “I don’t know yet. But I think… I think I’m willing to try again. For this child. For us.”

His eyes widened in surprise, and for the first time in months, there was a glimmer of something like relief in his gaze. He stepped closer to you, cautiously reaching out as though afraid you might pull away.

“I don’t deserve another chance,” he said, his voice rough. “But I will do whatever it takes, Y/N. For you. For our child. I will spend the rest of my life trying to prove to you that I can be the man you need.”

The sincerity in his words broke through the walls you had built around your heart. Your eyes welled with tears, but you refused to let them fall. Instead, you nodded, taking a deep breath.

“I’m still hurt, Cregan,” you said softly, your voice trembling. “I’m still angry. But I will give you one more chance. Not because I think we can fix everything, but because this child deserves to know their father. And maybe… maybe we both deserve a chance at something more than just pain.”

Cregan’s breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, he said nothing. He simply stood there, his hands trembling as he reached for you, pulling you into his arms. You hesitated, but then, slowly, you allowed yourself to rest against him, your head on his chest.

“I will make this right,” Cregan whispered against your hair. “I swear it, Y/N.”

The days following your decision were filled with uncertainty. While Cregan made every effort to show his commitment, the hurt and mistrust between you were not easily erased. Still, he was present. He spent his time with you, offering support in every way he could, from attending to your needs as you navigated the early months of your pregnancy to silently standing by your side when the pain of it all became overwhelming.

It wasn’t perfect, and there were days when the silence between you threatened to suffocate, but slowly, slowly, you began to allow yourself to believe in the possibility of healing. The tension that had once hung between you began to loosen, replaced with small moments of connection—a hand held in the dark, a shared glance over the dinner table, a smile from him when your eyes met across a room.

In time, the walls between you both began to crumble. Cregan’s presence in your life became less about obligation and more about the future you were trying to build together. Though there were still many challenges ahead, you found yourself holding onto the fragile hope that things could, one day, be different.

The days of silence were not gone, but they were less frequent, and in their place, you both began to carve out a new rhythm. It was a slow process, and there were times when the past came rushing back to haunt you both, but there was progress, and that was enough for now.

You could not erase the past, nor could you forget the hurt, but in your heart, you realized that maybe you didn’t need to. Perhaps, together, you could learn to live with it, and in doing so, forge something new. Something that, despite the scars, could still be beautiful.

And for the sake of your child, you would try. You would try to make it work.

[autisticfaun420]

I opened up to my mom about age regression

(if you are reading this and are new to my blog I am high support needs autistic and I already have childish interests please don’t say I’m infantilizing autism)

So first of all she kind of knew something was up with me, I brought my plushie with me to my disability day program. I showed her my blog, she said she hadn’t logged into my account to check yet so it was a surprise to her. First of all she was very proud and said I was brave for opening about some of my struggles and being so candid about it, I don’t know if it’s bravery or just autism making it so I don’t know what’s appropriate to share haha. Then I showed her my posts about age regression and how I learned about it here and was like, instant hyper fixation for me. I told her about how I never felt negatively infantilized by her and my dad almost never compared to people at school or strangers and I enjoy the connection we have when my parents kind of “baby” me the right way when they take care of my support needs. Like I need to have physical touch to calm me down and being cradled and my diaper changes are met with nick names, hugs and tickles, yeah very embarrassing I’m sure but whatever. I told her about “little space” and how I already enter it when she takes care of me sometimes and she said she always knew something like was going on but never pushed me or into it and made sure I was enjoying myself in those moments. She said if it would make me happy she and my dad would for sure be willing to help me out with little space. I told her that I want to take the power back from people who infantilized me negatively and assume I can’t think for myself by doing this and that surprised her but she said it made sense. I mentioned that I want to keep what independences and adult privileges I do have and I don’t want them to think I want this 24/7 and they said of coarse they will and I trust them. She had a talk with my dad real fast and they agreed to let me spend some of the money I saved up doing internet surveys, like a hundred dollars for an age regression starting pack essentially, my dad asked if this is really what I want and I guess the way I looked at him after and nodded made him believe me. My dad talked to me about how it’s important to keep my regression inside so others don’t get the wrong idea and I said of coarse and I shouldn’t do more then take my plushie with me in public and I agree. However I’m getting an adult sized bottle and pacifier, a mobile for my special needs cubby bed and a few fisher price toys. I am over the moon ecstatic and my mom said she’ll throw in the money for overnight shipping cause I earned it for using coping mechanisms when meltdowns could of gone worse lately.

I told them about pet regression too and they were still supportive of me being interested in it, they said they would feel uncomfortable with treating their disabled child like a pet personally and I can see where they’re coming from on that. They told me that one day I can find someone special to do that stuff with. As you can imagine dating is really hard with my level of needs but I’m not completely discouraged I’ll find somebody but that’s a post for another day. We did have a talk about how much I enjoyed being on an anti elopement harness and how I would pretend play as a puppy when out on walks with her, she said she knew had a feeling that’s what I was doing. Also I had my pacifier till 4 or 5 years and she said me giving it up was one of the hardest things she saw me go through and joked about it like I’m a drug addict about to relapse on it. I still have so many oral stims and use chewerly throughout the day so I think she has a point. Imagining what a paci would feel like in my mouth makes me feel so happy. I am just excited all around and can’t wait till tomorrow. For now my mom asked if I wanted some “little time” tonight and of course she said yes. We watched In the Night Garden on the big TV while she stroked my hair and cuddled when I normally only watch shows like that on my tablet as a form of stimming I guess. It was nice watching it where I could relax. I felt extra giggly at all the dumb stuff in the show, my friends describe it as an “acid trip” if that gives you an idea about what it’s like. My mom after the episode tickles me down and played games with me like I did when I was a little kid and I loved it. I started crying tears of happiness because I felt so loved I guess you could say. She teared a little bit too and told me every mother secretly wishes they could still baby their grown children so she said she had fun, I don’t know if it’s true or not but it’s a funny thought.

I feel so happy I wanted to write this out and share with you guys. I don’t know what else to say I think I wrote out enough. Now my mom wants me to get into my pajamas early I think she’s having too much fun with this but so am I and my dad is gonna run to get some of my favorite ice cream when I was a kid. I feel so lucky to have parents who can support my physical and emotional and disability support needs.

[haileycantcometothephonern]

Scars

Spencer x fem!reader

Prequel fic to this part (but can be read alone)

CW: pregnancy, kidnapping, torture, angst, also a little bit fluff. (not proofread)

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18 months ago

You felt the kicks before you felt the warm sun rays waking you up from your deep sleep. Your baby has been quite excited, you can tell. She is keen to meet her mom and dad, it seems. You open your eyes slowly and crack a smile at your very pregnant belly.

Sydney. That's what you both decided her name would be. Such a pretty name really. You immediately got up to make yourself some breakfast as your daughter isn't so calm when she starts to get hungry.

You then remember the absence of your husband. You really hoped he would be here before next week, as that's when your due date was and your daughter might come out any moment now. You didn't want Spencer to miss such a pivotal moment of your child's birth. You knew how much he looked forward to it.

As you make yourself some breakfast filled with all kinds of nutrients, your mind goes through all of your pregnancy journey. Spencer and you have always wanted to start a family and you were blessed with your angel a few months ago. You were both equally excited about the new edition to your family and made sure to do thorough research about how to ensure that she's safe and healthy.

Spencer was also very present these past few months, putting his foot down when he is needed here by you or your daughter. You really appreciated his support throughout your pregnancy but since a few weeks he has been quite busy. You understood that he can't keep putting off work to stay with you, but you also wanted him to do that for you. Maybe it was selfish, but you were also on the verge of giving birth to an entire human and you wanted your husband there to support you.

You thought back to the call with Spencer last night as you had your breakfast and wondered when you'll get another update from him. You eventually realized that you're focusing on him too much and he must just be really busy saving lives, so you ended up watching some movie on the TV.

Ring. Ring.

You were jolted awake from your morning nap by your phone's ringtone. You immediately hoped that it was Spencer calling to tell you that he's home bound.

"Hello"

"Hey, baby! How are both of my girls doing?" Spencer sounded tired.

"We're doing good, would do better if you're here with us though." You pouted.

"I know, love. I'm already on the jet, and wanted to check on both of you before we started. Will be there by evening." He sighed into the phone and you can feel him physically relax his shoulders. The case must have been a tough one, well tougher than usual anyway.

"Oh that's great news. I'll start on dinner soon. Love you baby, say love you to papa syd." You tried to make Spencer feel a bit less stressed and you honestly felt really glad that he'll be home soon.

"I love you both, stay safe until i get home." Spencer parroted back, and you can hear the caution in his voice.

You suddenly remembered that you forgot to inform about your doctor's call last night.

"Uh Spence, Dr. Min just called me yesterday. She wanted to see us tomorrow, I told her that I'll let her know if we can after I spoke to you today."

"What did she want to talk about? Is everything alright? Are you okay? Is Sydney okay?" He immediately questioned with worry.

"Yes, yes, we are completely alright. And Dr.Min did not tell me what it was about as she had some emergency and ended the call urgently. But I'm sure it's nothing serious." You said with a doubtful tone, you didn't want him to overthink it during the whole ride.

"It's okay, baby. I'll call Dr.Min, and ask her what it's about. Just take care." Spencer tried to reassure you and ended the call as the pilot was ready for take off.

You ended up taking another nap while snacking on some fruit platter as you were still full from your breakfast when you were once again woken up by a knock this time.

You checked who it was through the peephole first, Spencer instilled this cautiousness in you. It was just some delivery guy, maybe it was the new blanket you ordered three days ago for Sydney.

You excitedly open the door and were about to take your order when the delivery guy is pushed aside and you are being dragged out of your house by two really burly men. You wanted to scream, but they had their guns pointed straight at your belly. You gulped and cooperated with them.

"What do you guys want?" You tried not to sound so scared.

"Your husband knows what we want. Don't worry you'll get out of this unscathed if he listens to our demands." One of them replied and pushed you into a black jeep.

After that your memory goes pretty hazy, as you assume that they drugged you. You regain consciousness after a while, you don't know how long it's been but it was darker outside. You can see that through the only basement window in the room that you were held in. Yep, that's definitely a basement that you were in. You weren't scared as you had complete trust in your husband and his colleagues. You trusted them to save you and your baby.

You then heard some voices from outside the door. You remembered one of the voices was the man who brought you here. Just as you were about to concentrate on what they were talking about, the door to the room opened. In walked the two men who kidnapped you.

"Dr. Reid, as promised. Your wife is here, unscathed. Just get us that plane, our money, and Jason. We'll be out of your hair." He screamed into the phone, you assume Spencer is on the other side of.

"No I'm not going to do anything until you let me talk to her." Spencer tried to sound as neutral as he can, but even you can sense the fear in his voice.

"Alright, suit yourself." The kidnapper placed the phone near your ear. "Speak."

"Hello, Spence?"

You could hear the relief in his voice when he asks you to stay strong like you always do and that he'll be there to get you soon.

"Everything will be alright, baby. I'll be there."

And you believed him. Because why wouldn't you. You believed him with your whole being. You believed him. You made that choice. You let him deceive you. You let him deceive not just you, but also your daughter.

Spencer wasn't there. He wasn't there to save you. He wasn't there to save Sydney. He wasn't there when they cut you. When they left bleeding to your death. When they left Sydney to die with her mom. You still don't have complete memory of what happened after the call.

BAU unlike every other time, failed to deliver on their promise and failed to save you or Sydney. The kidnappers tried to get what they wanted by harming you, thinking that'll motivate the BAU to submit to their demands. But this time, the kidnappers were wrong.

Spencer found you that night, almost at the verge of dying. His heart stopped at the sight of you. Multiple cuts on your arms and your collarbone. One large gash on both of your wrists, blood flowing out uncontrollably. If only they were a bit faster, if only Hotch would have agreed to their demands. He knew that he couldn't blame anyone else but himself for what happened that night. He stayed by your side at the hospital until you regained your consciousness.

"Spence, What happened? Where am I? Where's Sydney?" Your frantic voice woke him up from his seat beside your bed. He looked like he'd been through some kind of apocalypse, maybe he was. His hair unwashed and disheveled. His beard, unshaven. His eyes, sunken, surrounded by pigmentation. He looked like he was crying non-stop.

Your thoughts immediately went back to that night.

"Sydney. Where's Sydney, Spencer?" You asked cautiously.

He looked like he was on the verge of tears and held your hands. His lips opened and closed, and tears started streaming down his cheeks.

"No, no, no. It can't be. No, not her. Spence." You were beyond frantic now. The tears came first.

You didn't want to believe that she was no more. Your love, your angel, your baby. Your Sydney.

You sobbed and sobbed and hiccups echoing off the hospital walls. Throughout it all Spencer held you, letting you express your grief. He had his time, although he thought no time could heal this wound. He wanted so badly to redo everything.

The BAU had all visited you and him, offering their condolences. Hotch showed up too, expressing his regret and guilt. Spencer assured him that he doesn't hold anything against him. You didn't reply to anyone. Not him, not his mom, not your parents, nor your friends. You didn't have anything else to say. You didn't know what one says when they feel like their soul has been snatched away. Their voice had been hijacked. Only thing you can know and feel for sure was the ache in your heart and the emptiness in your womb.

Days passed away before you knew it and it was finally time to go home. Spencer packed everything up from your hospital room and called out to you.

"(Y/N), It's time to go home baby." He whispered slowly placing his hand on your shoulder.

You looked away from the windows and towards him. Yes, nobody is at fault except Spencer. It was him who promised to keep you and your baby safe. But he was nowhere to be found on the day you actually needed him. He was the one who caused all of this. Your brain, filled with grief couldn't decipher what it was thinking or where your thoughts are taking you. You knew only one thing for sure, you wanted to hurt someone. You wanted him to hurt.

"Spencer you killed her. You killed my baby." Your voice was barely a whisper, you almost thought he didn't hear you. But the way his eyes dulled and filled with guilt showed you that he did hear it.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, baby." He said, he sounded wracked with guilt. He started sobbing.

That was the first time in a few days you felt some kind of sick relief. A part of you ached at seeing him like that. But the sick satisfaction over took every other feeling.

"Spencer, I'm going to hurt you until I can find peace. I promise, and I don't break them like you do." Your voice was filled with vitriol. Spencer never even imagined that you could look at him with such hatred in your eyes, but he was proved wrong today.

He knew he was going to be blamed for everything. And he blamed himself too. He was okay with taking everything from you, because he knew behind all that hatred and vitriol, there was love. So he was willing to be your punching bag for however long you want him to be.

You realized that Spencer was going to accept it. And you knew you were just getting started. Maybe this will end up hurting you both, but you felt like that's what the two of you deserved in the end. For failing to save her. Your Sydney.

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a/n: Not that satisfied with how this turned out, wanted to write fluff but it turned out into angst 😭😭. anyways i'm thinking of writing a fluff series next and maybe an angst one too. deleted one on my old blog, want to restart it.