#start to fix one problem another one (or the same one let's be honest) boils up and the first problem gets ignored lmao. how many more proph

[plus-size-reader]

Perfect Strangers

Bucky Barnes x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1644 words

Warnings: I got carried away, just so you know. 

Summary: The reader and Bucky have a very strange relationship, and they always will

——————————————————————————————————

You and Bucky had never really gotten along.

When you were young, you fought more than anything else, with him sticking his foot in his mouth over and over and your quick temper driving your attitude.

Really, you were only good at fighting.

Even now, you two couldn’t be in the same room with one another unless you were yelling at him or making out. That was all you did, and as dysfunctional as it may have been, it worked for you.

You had never been the relationship type and James wasn’t any better. The last girlfriend he’d had was in the forties.

Casual hookups were all you had in you, and it had never been a problem before.

However, there was definitely something different in the way that he’d been acting as of late. There were no clever quips or quick insults as you passed, or anything else for that matter.

It was as if you were perfect strangers.

The only problem with that, of course, was that you weren’t. Perfect strangers never got the chance to taste the other’s tongue and you had Buck had done far more than that.

Something was definitely up, you just hadn’t figured out what it was yet.

You weren’t exactly in a hurry to figure it out either, to be perfectly honest. Bucky’s attitude problem wasn’t something you had to worry about, and it certainly wasn’t yours to fix.

Whatever it was, you thought for sure he’d figure it out and get over it.

...But maybe you were wrong.

He was pouty, and even more moody than usual. It just didn’t make any sense, though had you stopped to think about it, you could have easily put the pieces together.

You had recently started seeing someone else.

His name was Todd, some low level agent at S.H.I.E.L.D who’d asked you to get a drink a week or so back. It wasn’t serious, of course, meaning that you liked him in about the same way you liked anyone.

More than anything, he was good for drinks and sloppy makeouts in bar bathrooms but Bucky didn’t care about any of that.

He hated him.

If anyone got to take you for drinks or smear your lipstick all over the place, it was him. He’d known you longer than any of them, certainly longer than Todd, and it should have been him.

...But he couldn't exactly tell you any of that.

You and Bucky had always kept your relationship fun, without all the serious crap that no one wanted to deal with in the first place, and you liked it that way. You didn’t get too attached, but you had fun when you both had to let off a little steam.

It was the perfect arrangement.

For some reason though, seeing you on the arm of another man made his blood boil.

Bucky could have killed him, if he was in any position to do so. The other issue was that he wasn't in any position to make any changes.

You weren’t his girlfriend, and he didn’t want you to be, he just didn’t want anyone else to touch you or be near you or speak to you, ever.

Was that too much to ask?

Evidently, it was.

The dark haired male knew that no matter what he did, or what he said, nothing would change the way you felt about one another. The most frustrating thing was that he didn’t even understand why he felt like he did.

Bucky didn’t care about you, did he?

Up until recently, he’d been perfectly content with the way your relationship was going but not anymore. For some reason, everything was different now and he hated it.

He was restless, and nothing made it better. Everything reminded him of you and how he felt about you, which just made him more angry for feeling that way at all.

It wasn’t what he wanted, but it just was what it was. He couldn’t exactly change it, so he’d made up his mind. All he would do was sit back and pretend he didn’t feel it, eventually it was going to go away.

It had to.

~

His plan lasted all of about three days, before everything came crashing down again.

You had brought Todd with you to Stark tower last night, to ‘meet the team’ as you put it but Bucky knew better. He knew exactly what that meant and he wasn’t happy about it.

His jaw tightened as he looked over your frame, the soft smirk you wore and that spark in your eye.

What you’d done was beyond unprofessional but that wasn’t what had him so upset and he knew it. What Bucky couldn’t get over was the thought of that creep’s hands all over you, and the fact that it wasn’t him in your bed last night.

Though, the last straw came during breakfast, when Todd decided it would be a good idea to smack your ass on his way past, on his way to the bathroom.

It was a subtle thing, something no one else even paid any mind to, aside from a small smile from Natasha to Clint. For them, this was funny, but all Bucky could think about was where he’d put his body.

He couldn’t help it.

What he did next was what caused the real problem though. Instead of just moving on and being mad on his own time, Bucky marched over to your side and yanked you around the corner, into the next room.

At least here, there wouldn’t be quite as many prying eyes.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you spit, immediately snatching your arm back from his grip as you tried to figure out what had gotten into him. He was always like this, absolutely incapable of using his words.

In the past, you’d explained him akin to a neanderthal or some kind of caged animal.

Now though, Bucky didn’t seem to be in a joking mood, and he certainly wasn’t in the mood for your sass. You had to know how much this was upsetting him, and how much he hated it.

Even you couldn’t be so stupid.

“Get him out of here” he suggested, not even bothering to explain himself. There was such an arrogance about him, as he ordered you to do as he said, it actually forced a laugh from your throat.

Bucky had finally lost it.

“I don’t know what you mean” you smirked, resting your hands on your hips as you looked him in the eye, daring him to be more blatantly honest about what he wanted.

You were testing him, just like you always did, but it wasn’t going to work this time. Bucky was mad, and it would be best for everyone if you just told that punk to leave so you could get back to your breakfast.

...but you weren’t going to do that.

Bucky wasn’t your father, and he certainly wasn’t your boyfriend, he had no authority over who you spent time with, in or out of your bedroom.

“I’m not kidding, get him out of here” he repeated, his jaw tightening again in a warning sort of way. He wasn’t going to do anything to you, you knew that, but it was still fun to imagine.

Even if he tried, you’d have him on his ass in a minute, you both knew it.

“You are such an asshole, you know that?” you scoffed, another laugh playing in your throat as you looked at him, your brow furrowed. You couldn’t believe he was acting like this.

He was such a child.

“I’m an asshole? No kid, he’s the asshole, trust me” he spit, practically growling as he let out all his frustrations over the past few days, watching him lay his hands on you and whisper in your ear.

He had no right, and clearly, only Bucky had the common sense to recognize that.

That earned another laugh from you, this time much more dangerous before as you stepped closer to him. “That's what this is about? You don’t wanna share your toy, Buck?” you huffed, rolling your eyes.

You had always been very clear about what you wanted from him, and you were under the impression that he felt the same, but clearly not. You never got jealous, and really, it was pathetic that he was.

Especially over Todd.

You were having a good time with him, sure, but you could replace him in an hour, there was nothing special about him.

“Oh fuck off” he grumbled, running his metal hand through his dark hair, each wavy lock curling around his fingers as it passed. Even pissed, he was so delicious.

Maybe that was why you two fought so often.

You were quite the sight too, your blood boiling as you waited for him to say anything of substance, your arms now crossed your chest. Your breath was heaving under the pressure and your skin was on fire.

Then, like a rubber band giving under the immense pressure of being stretched past its limit, Bucky gave in, just like you knew he would. Within a minute, you were pressed hard against the wall, his forearms firm under your thighs as he held you there, his lips on your own.

His breath was raging, not that yours was any better, and he’d bit so hard into your bottom lip that you could taste the iron when he finally backed up for air, not that either of you cared.

“I’ll get rid of him” you decided, after a few seconds of silence, the male’s forehead rested against your own.

It was uncharted territory for you both, but maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing. If nothing else, it would get him off your back for a little while.

[theshelbyclan]

Swords and Daggers

Summary: When a family meeting is interrupted by your sudden menstrual cramps, your brothers do everything in their power to take care of you

(gif by @nofckingfighting​) A/N: Anon requested: can you do a shelby!sister imagine where she’s gets these awful cramps and in the middle of a family meeting she just bursts into tears because it hurts so bad and omg the boys would be so soft As I’m currently dying of cramps, it made sense to write this. It’s short, but I hope you like it. Words: 1585 *** “This Saturday,” Tommy started, “We’re going legit. John, you and Johnny Dogs are gathering the men at the Charlie’s yard. Arthur, I need you on the tracks, keep the Lee men off. You can take Finn. I will create a distraction and… Y/N, are you okay?” “Fine,” you ground out, not really wanting to attract attention to yourself, “Tell me where I’ll be.” 

“At home,” your brother said shortly. “Like hell I am,” you said, “If we’re going legit, I want in. Why the fuck else am I even here?” “Fuck if I know,” Polly sighed, “being decorative, I suppose.” Tommy shot daggers at his aunt and then turned back to you, “If you ladies have any problems with how I run…” “If we have any problems, we know to shut out mouths and get on with it,” Ada commented from the other side of the round table. “Remember we used to run this entire organisation, Thomas,” Polly scolded, “While you boys were off to France.” “Yes,” Thomas sighed, downing his drink, “I am aware, Pol,” Her look still had some effect on him, much to her satisfaction, “You remember that when you no longer care for our input.” “Fine!” he caved, “Y/N, what role do you want to play?” But you had stopped listening already. In all honesty, you didn’t feel well at all and so Tommy’s words seem to come from very far away. Still, you’d fought years and years to feel like you were a part of the Shelby Company Limited. Women were respected in this family, but never quite on the same level as the men. Sure, it’d been fine for you to take care of business while your brothers were away, and you and Aunt Polly had happily taken on the entire enterprise. With her head for strategy and your head for numbers, sharing the iron Shelby backbone, it’d been quite the dream team. But the boys came back and without many words of thanks, it’d been taken from you as well. There were so many mixed emotions that came with their return from France, but a day didn’t go by that you didn’t curse those men up top who decided to send boys into the mud to die for them. Tommy still stared at you, impatient and a little annoyed, so you said, “I’ll go to Epsom early. I still have the dress. I’ll let Arthur know where the Lee men are and what they’re planning.” Arthur grumbled something inaudibly and when you fixed him with one of your glares, he said, “You want to waltz in there, all dolled up and ready for the taking by any Lee bastard?” “Think I can’t do it, Arthur?” you said coldly. “We know you can do it,” Tommy interrupted, “Doesn’t mean we have to like it.” “I’m not fucking seven, Thomas,” you spat. Another sharp pain went through you and you found yourself physically doubling over in your chair. John immediately turned towards you, “What’s the matter?” “I’m good,” you tried to smile. “Doesn’t look like it…” “Maybe it’s food poisoning,” Arthur ventured. “It’s not.” “What is it then?” Both brothers said in unison. “Just…” you gritted your teeth as another wave of pain came over you, “leave me alone!” “Can’t do that, little sister,” Arthur moved to touch your arm, but you angrily pushed him away.

“She’s not doing good, Tommy,” John’s voice was full of alarm.

Arthur even stood up, “And she’s not fighting any bloody Lee men like that!”

“Calm down,” Aunt Polly said, “Women have been doing it for ages, every month, come hell or high water.”

“That may be so,” Tommy put down his drink, “but this is our sister.”

“I’m fine…” you croaked again, but you weren’t, at all.

“You’re not,” another unhelpful brother said, “you need to be in bed.”

“WILL YOU ALL FUCKING STOP TELLING ME WHAT TO FUCKING DO!” you suddenly burst out, and before you knew it, you had started sobbing.

“Oh no…” John said softly.

“Tom,” Arthur said unsurely, not knowing what to do with himself, “What do we do?”

He quickly took charge and picked you up from your seat. Held bridal style, he walked around the table and you could feel your brothers’ gaze on you, “She needs to be in bed.”

You still protested weakly, “Tommy…”

“Shhh,” he said softly, “We can talk about your plan to seduce the Lees in the morning, eh?”

As he walked with you up the stairs, you suddenly felt yourself lean into him. It felt safe, right there in his arms.

“Water bottles?” you heard one panicky brother shout downstairs.

“Boil the water!” the other replied, “I’ll get the blankets!”

“Ada! Where the bloody hell did you hide that chocolate?!”

You had to smile a little, “You’d think I’m dying…”

“Well, the truth is, sweetheart,” Tommy said in that soft voice he reserved only for you, “We have no idea what you’re going through. We spend half our lives talking to women, flirting with women, being with women…”

“Yeah, alright, I get the point,” you cut him off jokingly.

He pretended like he hadn’t heard you, but a small smile was tugging at his lips, “But we have no idea what it feels like, to lose all that blood…”

“What about France?” you asked.

“That was different, love,” he gently placed you on your bed, “That was a one-time thing and not a monthly struggle. Besides, we weren’t expected to just ignore it and get on with work.”

“I want to work,” you pouted.

Tommy sighed, “Y/N. Listen to me. I know you want to work for the company. I know you. You’re a Shelby and you don’t like being idle. I know. But for tonight, work is done. Get some sleep, eh?”

Suddenly, Arthur came rushing in. It was clear he felt incredibly awkward, but the fact that his arms were filled with hot-water bottles, blankets and chocolate showed he cared, deeply. There were times that you loved your awkward brother more than anyone in the world, and this was one of those moments. You smiled at him full of gratitude and he left quickly after, knowing he’d be back every few hours to check on you. He was the oldest brother after all.

You tried to find a comfortable position for a few moments and the occasional grunt of pain escaped your lips. Tommy looked at you with worry written all over his face, “Don’t know how you fucking do it every month…” he whispered.

“Careful,” you feigned shock, “people might think you’re a feminist.”

He slowly lit a cigarette, “And what if I am, eh?”

You scoffed and reached out, “Give me the cigarette. It helps.”

Another few minutes passed and John stuck his head around the door, “Y/N? Esme tells me it helps when I rub her back. Do you need me to do that?”

“I’ll be fine, John, thanks,” you smiled at him. Where you and Arthur had a bond that required no words, with John it was all words, but they were always good and open and honest. If you needed to talk, you turned to John.

He paused for a second, “What about a doctor, do you need a doctor?”

This made you laugh out loud, “John, sweetheart, this is perfectly normal and it does happen every month. We’d be wasting the doctor’s time!”

“Esme told me to tell you that it’s perfectly normal and there’s nothing wrong with you…”

“I know, John. I’m sixteen: I’ve been doing this for a while now.”

“Right,” he mumbled, “I knew that…”

“John?” you eventually asked and when he looked at you again, you said, “Thank you. I’ll manage.”

“Will you let me know?” John said with a serious look on his face, “If you do need something?”

“How? You’re four houses away. I’m not screaming loud enough for you to hear it, waking up the whole bloody street!”

“Just knock,” he replied, “Sleeping in my old bed tonight, just down the hall,” and before you could protest, he was gone and called from the hall, “Goodnight, babe!”

Tommy still sat in the corner, smoking quietly. You weren’t quite sure why he was there, but his presence was comforting. With Arthur it was protection, with John it was words, but with Tommy it was just his presence. When you two locked eyes, he gave you a warm smile, and it was just like you were six again. Before that god-awful war, he’d always been there. Tommy was the brother who couldn’t be dragged away from his little sister, always trying to get you to ride his pony. He followed you wherever you went and he gave you everything you ever wanted. But after the war, his head was filled with smoke, mud and ambition. But this, this felt like before, and it was good. Maybe it was even worth the swords and daggers attacking your uterus at the moment.

You started feeling yourself drifting off to sleep, with the warm bottle pressed against your abdomen. But before you slept, you mumbled, “I love you, Tommy…”

“Is this another hormonal thing?” a deep voice said in reply, with some sarcasm echoing through.

“Probably,” you smirked, “I’ll hate you again tomorrow, alright?”

“Good. You can take out that anger on the Lees, eh?”

“I will,” you heard your own voice was getting muffled. Still, you felt a small triumph of being allowed to go in the morning.

“Sleep, Y/N,” he almost sung, from a great distance it seemed, “And I love you too.”

***

Masterlist

[night-raven-dorms]

Hi Hi can I request the dorm leader's with a s/o that is similar personality as Luna Lovegood? you know unawarely honest and kinda a air head.

Dorm Leaders with a Strange S/O:

A/N: My apologies for quite the long wait. I did a bit of reading through the archives, and I was busy with some personal matters (after all potions don’t brew themselves). While I would love to write for each of the dorm heads, I thought it would be best to narrow it down to 3. I do apologize if it seems a tad out of character as well.

~

Riddle Rosehearts:

He has probably experienced stranger and weirder things, so they’re probably “normal” in his eyes

He will call them an idiot at some of the things they say (lovingly of course)

I personally would like to think Riddle enjoys the weird thoughts his s/o has. Mainly because they make him realize things he didn’t think of before. Other times however...

“Riddle, if your pink hedgehog bred with your blue one, do you think they’re offspring would be purple?”

He’s surprised his nose doesn’t have a permanent indent from him pinching it so much

That being said, Riddle would probably use his s/o’s honesty to help him improve and to help run the dorm smoother

“how was that?”

“Better. Your aim is a tad scattered. You’re also too stiff.”

He’ll never say it out loud, but the dreamy and airy tone to they’re voice really helps him relax. Especially when his boiling point is pushing itself. They’re voice is so delicate and gentle

S/o unintentionally spills secrets about their private time in front of others

“stop it” Riddle will say as he pushes your face away from his

“But you said you liked it when I kiss you. You didn’t have a problem when I kept- hmph”

When his s/o first went to visit Night Raven and met the other boys, they were very confused on why a student from another magic school was aimlessly roaming the halls with their head in the clouds

“Are you lost?”

“I’m looking for Riddie~”

If his s/o is interested, he’ll more than happily show them the Queen of Hearts rules

—

Azul Ashengrotto:

His s/o was friends with the twins before they started officially dating

Initially he was more curious about you and wanted to crack you open, but seeing how you were so honest, he found that you really didn’t hide anything... more like you didn’t NEED too

Twins turn into the biggest wingmen for him

Being at a different magic school, he and his s/o write letters to each other and he will always prioritize their letters before anything else

“Hey Azul, we got more paperwork”

“Uh huh.”

“And a letter from (Y/N)”

“Give it to me now. You can put the rest on my desk.”

Said letters also keep him grounded if he feels himself getting too greedy or if he feels him losing himself with the pressure between being a student, dorm leader, and manager

They make surprise visits to the lounge because they somehow know when he’s about to pop

A cute ritual Azul and his s/o have together is letting his s/o fix and adjust his suit. Azul loves how they make everything look perfect and will sometimes “forget” to do something so that they can fix it

He finds they’re air headedness endearing because he knows you’re really smart underneath it all

They usually have a straight face on and often get lost in thought, so Azul gives them a quick peck on the lips to bring them back down

That being said, his gentlemanly nature makes them smile and he loves it

He can’t keep secrets from them since they find out anyway

“I’m fine”

“No you’re not. You’ve been staring at the same document for the past 30 minutes. Your right hand is clenched around your pen and you’ve loosened your tie a bit.”

They ask him a lot about his home town because they’re so curious about it

—

Vil Schoenheit:

“How did you become a couple?”

Vil loves to dress them up, and his s/o wouldn’t mind at all

Vil calling his s/o “Doll” as an endearing nickname

His s/o has probably commented once or twice on his make up when it was too cakey or even if his eyebrows were ever so slightly different. While it irks him, he does take some of it in stride and makes alterations to his make up.

(his s/o smiles whenever he does listen to them)

As strange as they might be, Vil curiously adores his s/o’s choices when it comes to beauty because it’s something only they can pull off

Vil practicing new beauty routines with/on his s/o

At the beginning of the relationship, Vil used to get annoyed by his s/o’s blank stares, but now he just sighs and kisses their temple or forehead

Even as skilled as he is with potions, Vil does occasionally have accidents which lead to some injuries

“Don’t look at them, they’re ugly”

“I think they’re beautiful Vil”

“Why?”

“They’re a part of you”

He’s caught off guard at these words because they were said so honestly and with no hesitation

His s/o occasionally fiddles with his hair and he finds it extremely soothing with the way their fingers brush through his hair effortlessly

the delicacy and airiness in they’re voice makes him melt because he finds it so elegant

[petersasteria]

Marriage - Tom Holland

Pairing: Doctor!Tom x Lawyer!Reader Requested? Nah 7,630 words TW; character death, very angsty as usual, an unusual ending

The one is bold is the question from the activity.

* * * *

It was 7 o’clock in the morning and everyone in your house was busy. Tom, your husband, was checking your kids’ backpacks while you made sure your kids ate breakfast. They were invited by Mr. and Mrs. Bergstein on a camping trip with their kids. Of course, you and Tom happily agreed. It’d be nice to take a break from the kids just this once. You and Tom didn’t worry too much about them because your kids are 10 and 8 years old. Both of them are boys and you wanted to try for a little girl this time. Only, there was one problem.

“Okay, Mr. and Mrs. Bergstein are here! It’s time to go!” Tom shouted from the living room after checking from the window. Your sons, Jacob and Mason, immediately got up from their seats and ran out of the house.

“You didn’t drink anything, Jacob!” You shouted from the dining area. Jacob quickly came back and finished his full glass of orange juice. You smiled at him as you wiped his mouth. You kissed the top of his head and said, “Behave, okay? Take care of your little brother, but most of all, have fun! I’ll call you guys every night.”

“Okay, mum. I love you!” Jacob smiled before leaving again. You and Tom followed behind him as you waved at them from the front door.

“Bye, kids!” Tom shouted with a smile on his face as he waved with his other arm wrapped around your shoulder. You and Tom watched as the kids waved from inside the car.

“I can’t believe you didn’t have the decency to pack their things last night. Do you know how tired I am?!” Tom quietly said while smiling at the kids.

“I can’t believe you’re complaining! You don’t even help around the house and the one time I ask you to do something, you’re pissed? How fucking dare you!” You said, the same way as Tom. You didn’t want the kids to see you fighting.

The Bergsteins drove away and as soon as they did, you shrugged off Tom’s arm around your shoulder and went inside without another word. Tom followed and slammed the door when he got in.

“You’re such a bitch, you know that?” Tom said angrily.

“You’re such an asshole, you know that?” You mimicked. “I fucking hate you! The only good things you gave me were Jacob and Mason! Other than those two, all you gave me were headaches and your whining! News flash: when you whine and complain, NOTHING CHANGES AND NOTHING GETS DONE.”

“Well, I’m sorry for making you so fucking upset! I’m sorry that I have a job that’s always stressing me out and I’m sorry that I don’t have time for everything and everyone in this house!” Tom shouted.

“Oh, please! I know how you fucking feel because I’m a lawyer and the cases I handle are so out of this fucking world and it adds to my problems! You and I aren’t so different in terms of having a busy work life, but I make time to do my part as a wife and a mother!” You hissed.

That was the problem. Both of you hated each other’s guts. You don’t know when it started and despite everything, you and Tom agreed that Mason was definitely the result of angry sex. In fact, that was the last intimate moment you had together. After having Mason, yours and Tom’s love life just went downhill. You loved your kids, but you weren’t sure if you loved each other anymore. For the first time in 14 years, you and Tom questioned your relationship.

You and Tom have been together since you were 16. You got married at 23, had Jacob at 24 and had Mason at 26. Now you and Tom are 34 years old and both of you can’t be bothered to make a third child. In Tom’s words, ‘FUCK THAT SHIT.’

“Are you saying that I’m not doing my part as a husband and as a father?!” Tom shouted.

“Yeah!”

“I provide for this family!”

“I provide for this family too and I’m so tired goddammit!” You yelled before retreating to your shared bedroom. Tom watched in anger and shouted, “I hate you!”

“The feeling’s mutual!” You shouted back before grabbing your work clothes and entering your en suite bathroom.

Tom scoffed and asked the maid to clean up in the dining room. It was his day off today and he didn’t want to do anything for the whole day. He just wanted to relax, but that was ruined when you asked him to pack the kids’ bags for a camping trip with the Bergsteins.

Half an hour later, you went down already ready for work. You were putting an earring on when you looked at Tom to find him watching golf on TV.

“I’m off to work now.” You said.

“Good riddance! At least no one’s going to boss me around.” Tom rolled his eyes as he said that without leaving his gaze from the television. What he said made your blood boil, but you didn’t say anything. You had to go to court today and you refused to let your emotions and personal problems get in the way of an important case. So you put your heels on, grabbed your things, and left without another word.

When you left, Tom looked at the door and sighed. Regardless of the constant arguing, Tom hated it when you argued. He hated all the fights, he hated the fact that you slept next to each other but turned on opposite sides, he hated not exchanging I love you’s anymore, he hated being angry all the time, but most of all, he hated not being partners in crime anymore. A few weeks ago, you told him to just leave. He didn’t because he made a vow to stay with you through thick and thin.

You hated fighting too and if you were being honest, you didn’t know what happened. It just started going downhill. There was no doubt that you loved Tom and he loved you, but sometimes things just don’t work out between two people who loved each other since they were 16.

Work was tiring as always and as if work wasn’t tiring enough, Tom texted you and said that your parents were trying to contact you, but for some reason couldn’t get a hold of you so they called Tom instead. Apparently, your parents made reservations at a restaurant for dinner and they realized that they couldn’t make it. They didn’t want to cancel because they would be asked to pay a cancellation fee. Your parents want you and Tom to take the reservation instead.

Upon reading Tom’s message, you called him and he answered immediately. “What did you tell them?” You asked Tom as soon as he answered. You were walking to your car while trying to find your car keys.

“Hello to you too, darling.” He said sarcastically and you could imagine him rolling his eyes. “I told them that we’d go. I’m already dressed and I’m literally on my way out the house.”

You found your keys and sighed before unlocking your car. “Fine. How will you go there? Do you want me to pick you up? Or will you take a cab?”

“I’ll just take a cab. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you, Y/N. I’m sure having dinner with me is at the bottom of your list, but I love your parents too much to say no.” Tom hissed as he walked out of the house.

“I didn’t mean it that way, alright?! I’m just tired. I’ll see you at the restaurant.” You said as you put your things in the backseat of your car.

“Bye.” Tom said before hanging up. You tossed your phone on the passenger seat before getting in and driving to the restaurant. When you parked the car, you quickly fixed your appearance and practiced a smile before grabbing your phone and bag before getting out of the car and locking it.

Tom got there first and he was already munching on the free bread and sipping wine. He saw you and lazily waved you over. You walked towards him and sat across.

“Have you ordered?” You asked and he shook his head.

“I was waiting for you.” He replied with his mouthful which made you roll your eyes. “Can you stop being a pig for once?” You whispered.

Tom rolled his eyes, took a sip of wine, and swallowed his food. “Can you give me a break? Today’s the day when I don’t handle a patient’s death or sickness or check up or anything else. Let me be human and forget a few manners, alright? It’s not like I’ll die if I talk with my mouth full.”

“Yeah, but you could choke on it.” You explained.

“Oooh, kinky.” Tom said sarcastically.

The waitress came and handed your menus before leaving again. The waitress was your saving grace and you were happy that you could pay attention to the menu and not Tom. You honestly couldn’t deal with him at the moment. After five minutes of scanning the menu, both of you called for the waitress and gave her your orders. The waitress immediately left after taking your orders and you and Tom were silent.

Tom coughed awkwardly, “How was work?”

“Stressful and I have to be in court again tomorrow.” You told him.

“The pro bono case?” Tom asked.

You nodded, “The pro bono case. I genuinely feel bad for my client and I hope I win this one for him.”

“What’s his case?” Tom asked. For the first time in forever, both of you were normal, functioning human beings.

“His daughter got taken away from him simply because everyone said that he has the mental capacity of a 7-year-old and that his daughter is already becoming smarter than him. His daughter’s teacher also said that they think she’s holding back from learning all because of her father. They’re bullshitting, I swear.” You answered before grabbing a piece of bread and scarfing down on it as if you haven’t eaten in days.

“Well, do you?”

“Do I what?” You asked after swallowing the bread.

“Do you think he has the mental capacity of a 7-year-old?” Tom asked. The waitress arrived with your food and you thanked her. Tom poured you a glass of wine for you to drink and you took a sip before answering.

“No.” You shook your head. “He has autism, but I think he’s very capable of being a parent. Hell, he’s been raising the kid alone for seven years, so why do they all doubt him now? It just makes me so angry that they think that way.”

The dinner went surprisingly well and Tom even offered to pay for the bill. You were happy that both of you were functional human beings again and you didn’t fight anymore even when you arrived home. You even got to cuddle up to him when you laid in bed and he kissed the top of your head.

“Oh shit.” You said suddenly.

“What?”

“We forgot to call the kids.”

“Oh shit.” Tom sighed. “Let’s just give them a quick call now. I’m sure they’re tired.”

You grabbed your phone from the nightstand and quickly pressed Jacob’s contact to call him. His phone rang as you put it on speaker and he answered after the third ring.

“Hi, mum!” Jacob said from the other line. “Mason, come say hi to mum.”

“Hi, mum!” Mason greeted.

“Hey kids!” You smiled. “Your dad’s here too. Say hi to your dad.”

“Hi, dad!” The two said at the same time.

“Hey, boys! We miss you already.” Tom said. “What did you guys do today?”

“We went fishing!” Mason said cheerfully. “Yeah, and we had smores. It was delicious!” Jacob added with a small giggle which made your heart swell and forget your problems. You really loved your kids and you would do anything and everything for them.

You spent the rest of the night talking to your kids and it felt like nothing was wrong anymore. But of course, you knew it was temporary. You knew better than to keep your hopes up. You knew that when you wake up in the morning, Tom would already be ready for work and say the coldest ‘goodbye’ to you as if you didn’t cuddle at all the night before.

You were right. Except this time, he added a small ‘good luck in court today’ which made you smile a bit before waving goodbye to him.

You sighed to yourself as soon as he left before getting ready for the day. You wished you could go back in time to where this coldness and the arguments began because you had no clue how to fix it now. You couldn’t blame Tom and you didn’t blame yourself and you most certainly didn’t blame your kids. It’s hard to solve a case when you can’t even solve your own problems at home.

Two days later, Jacob and Mason are finally back from the camping trip and you can’t wait to spend time with them. You missed them dearly. You took a day off to be with them and as much as Tom wanted to go, he had an emergency to tend to at the hospital.

“Hi!” You greeted as soon as you saw your kids get out of the car. They ran up to you and you hugged them tightly as you kissed the top of their heads. Your sons were yours and Tom’s pride and joy. They were your angels.

You pulled away from them and thanked the Bergsteins for the camping trip before waving them goodbye as they drove away. You three went inside and helped them unpack their things as they told you stories of what happened.

Since you didn’t go to work today, you knew you had to make up for it. So after dinner and after readying the kids for bed, you went to your home office and started working. Tom came home an hour later. He took off his coat and took his shoes off as the maid reheated the dinner that was left for him. He went into the dining room and thanked her before loosening his tie and eating.

No one noticed it, but he was tired. He wished he could quit his job, but he knew that if he did that, he’d be very unhappy. Being a doctor has been his dream for so long and he wasn’t going to give that up. It was his passion and he loved it. He loved seeing happy patients getting out of the hospital, he loved seeing his fellow doctors telling patients that they’re cancer free, he loved seeing a patient’s loved ones visiting with balloons and flowers. It’s true what people say, you really see true emotions in either a hospital or airport. Mostly in a hospital.

Tom rubbed the sleep off his eyes before quickly finishing his food. He just remembered Jacob and Mason were already home and he wanted to see them. Tom loved his sons and he would do everything to make them happy and protected. He loved his little family and he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

He got out of his seat, washed the plate and utensils he used, dried and put them back before going to his sons’ shared room. He gently knocked on the door before entering. He silently hoped that they were awake so he could hear about the things they did in their trip because he knew that he’d have to wake up at 4AM and do the same routine again. He wanted to catch up with his kids because he feels like he’s been missing out a lot and he hated that. He swore to himself that he’d become the best father for them and that included hearing them out no matter what it was they wanted to say.

He opened the door and saw them half-asleep watching something on Netflix. He smiled at the sight and said softly, “Hey, guys.”

Jacob and Mason turned to face the door and smiled brightly when they saw their father. Tom grinned as he walked in and quietly closed the door. The kids ran up to him and gave him a big hug which Tom returned. His sorrows were washed away and it hurts to admit that when his two boys will be teenagers, they wouldn’t want to hug their dad anymore. Right now, he’s cherishing it before they turn into monstrous rebels that sneak out to party. Although, he hoped his boys wouldn’t be like that.

Tom kissed their foreheads before sitting on the large beanbag as the kids sat on his lap. “Tell me all about your camping trip. Was it fun? Did you see bears?”

“I saw an eel and Eli caught a fish!” Mason exclaimed as he excitedly told the story. Eli was the Bergsteins’ youngest son. He’s the same age as Mason.

“Wow! Really? Did you catch a fish?” Tom asked him and Mason shook his head. Mason didn’t seem bothered about it, though. “I saw a butterfly and a caterpillar. They were beautiful like mum.” Mason smiled as Tom nodded and brushed the hair off of Mason’s face.

“Yes, your mum is very beautiful.” Tom smiled. Jacob watched the interaction between his little brother and his father and he was slightly jealous that Mason got his parents’ attention. He knew that the love was equal, but he just didn’t see it that way. Jacob loved his brother and he would do anything to protect him, but sometimes he wished his parents would realize that he’s their son too and he needed attention just as much as Mason.

Mason is the exact definition of a ball of sunshine. He always saw the good in people and he stopped fights in school because he hated it when people fight. It pained him to see you and Tom fighting even though you hid it from him and Jacob, he could still hear it and he could sense when something’s wrong. He was a peacemaker and he loved nature. In fact, you and Tom decided to have a small garden corner for Mason in the backyard. Mason was often teased in school for being effeminate and Jacob would always defend him. It broke Jacob’s heart to see that his precious little brother is being teased for being who he is.

Mason loved flowers. He didn’t have a favorite and if you ask him, his answer changes every time. Despite his different answers, you, Tom, and Jacob thought each thought about different flowers that suit him. To Jacob, the flower that suited Mason best is zinnia because it means goodness and to him, it definitely described Mason. To Tom, Mason suited a chrysanthemum because it means cheerfulness and positivity and it truly defined Mason. To you, he suited a baby’s breath because it means innocence, love, purity, and sincerity.

In truth, all of those flowers suited Mason. That’s why you and Tom fought when trying to decide the kind of flowers to get for Mason’s funeral.

It all happened so fast.

Knowing his love for nature, you and Tom took the kids to a nature park for Mason’s 9th birthday. You knew he would appreciate it and you knew he wanted to spend time with his family on his special day. So, you and Tom organized it, surprisingly, without fighting.

You went to the park and there was a lake there where everyone could swim. It was a little pricey, but you and Tom thought that it was okay to spend a little over the budget for the kids to swim. So, you all swam.

When it was time to get out of the water, you noticed that only Jacob got out. Mason was nowhere to be found. That made you panic.

“Jake,” You called your eldest son. Jake was his nickname. “Where’s your brother?” Upon hearing your question, Tom stopped packing your things and went over to you and Jacob.

“What’s going on?” Tom asked as he dried his hair with a towel.

“Mason’s missing.” You said in panic. You had a bad feeling and you guessed that it was your maternal instincts kicking in. “I don’t like this one bit, T. I feel like something bad just happened.”

Tom turned to Jacob and asked, “Where’s Mason?”

“I don’t know.” Jacob shrugged. “We were playing and I never saw him again. Should I go back in the wa-”

“No!” You said loudly, cutting him off. “Don’t go back in there. It’s dangerous.”

“I’ll go look for a lifeguard or something. Stay here.” Tom said sternly, going into full dad mode before running to immediately find someone who could help. Not even a minute later, he comes back with the nature park’s rescue team as they search for Mason in the lake. Tom went with them as you stayed with Jacob.

“Will Mason be okay?” Jacob asked, his eyes full of worry as they stared back at you. You gave him a small smile and said, “Yes, he’ll be okay. They’ll find him. I know they will.” Jacob nodded and you engulfed him in an embrace as he sat on your lap. In truth, you didn’t know what to do. Your mind was thinking of so many things at once and your heart was racing.

An hour later, Tom and the rescue team come back with Mason’s cold body. His lips were pale and judging by the look on Tom’s face, Mason needs to be in the hospital as soon as possible.

“They called an ambulance already and they should be here by now.” Tom told you. “I’ll go with them and you and Jacob can follow.”

“Okay.” You cried. The three of you quickly changed into dry clothing, grabbed your things and went to the front of the nature park where the ambulance was waiting. Mason was quickly brought inside the ambulance while Tom followed suit.

“Just follow the ambulance!” Tom called out to you before the paramedic got in and closed the door. Your body ran on autopilot. You hurriedly stuffed your things in the backseat of your car before getting in with Jacob. You pulled out the parking lot and quickly drove to catch up with the ambulance.

Tom arrived at the hospital first and Mason was brought to the emergency room. Tom waited outside and after a few minutes, a doctor told Tom that Mason was dead on arrival. It was heartbreaking. As a doctor himself, Tom had his fair share of telling families that their loved one has passed. He just didn’t expect that he’d be the receiving end of it and it shattered him. When you and Jacob arrived, Tom broke the news to you and you let out the most painful cry. Jacob cried too. Jacob blamed himself for Mason’s death, but you and Tom assured him that it was no one’s fault.

Today’s the funeral and you were arguing with Tom. You were in the anger stage of grieving and it broke Jacob’s heart seeing you two fight.

“I want the baby’s breath flowers for him to hold in the coffin!” You shouted.

“Well, I want the chrysanthemum!” Tom yelled. “That’s final!”

“You can’t just decide what’s final and what isn’t! I’m his parent too, in case you forgot!” You angrily shouted as you stood in front of Tom. Tom was about to yell, but Jacob beat him to it.

“Stop fighting!” Jacob cried, causing both of you to face him. “Mason would hate both of you for fighting right now! He seriously would! Can you guys just compromise? I understand that you guys are very sad and I’m sad too. But we have to go now and let’s just agree that Mason can hold all of the flowers we got him. He loves them all, anyway.”

Yours and Tom’s heart broke seeing Jacob cry and you felt so bad that you forgot all about him. You knew Tom forgot about him too. Tom looked at you and nodded, “He’s right.”

You nodded and said, “Okay. Jake, we’re sorry.”

“Let’s just go.” Jacob said as he walked out of the house.

The funeral was short and simple. You three got to see Mason one last time as you all put the flowers in Mason’s hands. They closed the coffin and lowered it down six feet under. You will never get over the pain of burying your son; your youngest. Things will never be the same again.

After the funeral, you and Tom were back to your fighting routines. Jacob didn’t have the energy to stop you guys anymore. In fact, you were so busy fighting and working that you didn’t notice Jacob anymore. You never went to his room because it hurts too much knowing that Mason stayed there too. What you didn’t realize was Jacob’s pain. It hurt him to sleep in the room he once shared with his brother. It hurt him to not hear Mason’s voice not calling his attention when he wanted a midnight snack. It hurt him to lose his number one partner in crime.

A few months later, it’s Tom’s parents’ wedding anniversary party. Things have already been downhill by that time and Jacob wasn’t talking to both of you at all and that worried you and Tom.

You arrived at Tom’s childhood home because that’s where the party was being held and after Tom parked the car, all of you got out of the car. Tom locked it and entered the house first with you and Jacob behind him.

“Tom!” Nikki smiled as she walked towards him and kissed his cheek before giving him a warm embrace. She turned to you and did the same. “How are you?” She asked.

“I’m doing better.” You smiled as you put your hands on Jacob’s shoulders. Nikki smiled and turned to Jacob, “How are you, young man?”

“Fine.” Jacob said.

“How’s football?” Nikki asked him again, hoping to get an elaborate answer. She missed the 10-year-old boy who resembled Tom.

“I quit a few weeks ago.” Jacob said as he shrugged off your hands and went to his uncles. You sighed and Tom shook his head upon seeing that.

“I’m sorry about that, Nikki.” You apologized and she waved you off saying it was nothing. She said that Jacob was probably just upset about something and that he’ll come around soon. “I hope that’s true.” You told her.

“It’ll pass. Don’t worry about it.” Nikki assured you.

The party began and everyone was having fun. You went to the kitchen to get yourself a drink and on the way there, you saw Tom and his ex talking and laughing. You knew it meant nothing and you knew it was ridiculous to be jealous of his ex especially because he chose you in the end, but you couldn’t help it.

Forgetting about your drink, you walked up to them and cleared your throat. “Tom, can you help me with the drinks in the kitchen?” You asked sweetly.

“Okay.” He said, before excusing himself from his ex. They were still friends and their breakup was mutual. Tom didn’t have feelings for her anymore and he loved you despite the hardships and fights.

You went to the kitchen and Tom trailed behind you. You turned to face him and he immediately asked, “Okay, what’s wrong? I know you don’t need help with drinks.”

He knew you too well.

“How’s your ex?” You asked with your arms crossed. Tom groaned. “No, tell me. How is she? What did she tell you that was so funny? If you find her so amusing, why don’t you just date her? Oh, no you can’t because you’re married to me!”

“I fucking knew it!” Tom raised his voice, causing the people in the house to look at both of you. “You know, you’re so jealous! I was literally catching up with her and you’re making an issue! That’s what’s wrong with you!”

“Oh, wow!” You chuckled. “So if I were to talk to my ex and laugh with him, would you be jealous?”

“Yes, I would! But I wouldn’t make a scene and I wouldn’t worry too much about it because I know that at the end of the day, you come home TO ME; your husband. I trust you, but you don’t fucking trust me and it’s insane!” Tom shrieked.

“Oh, so now I’m insane?!”

“Yeah, you are! How can you get it through your thick head? Nothing’s going on between me and her! We’re just friends and there’s nothing to worry about!”

“That’s where it all starts.” You said. “You become friends and then you hang out again and then before you know it, you’re going on secret dates and then you’re cheating.”

Tom laughed bitterly, “See what I’m talking about?! You already made some shit up! I can’t believe your spewing random stories out of your fucking mouth! God, you’re so irritating sometimes!”

“IF YOU FIND ME SO IRRITATING, WHY ARE YOU STILL WITH ME?!”

“IF YOU DON’T FUCKING TRUST ME, WHY ARE WE STILL FUCKING MARRIED?!”

At this point, you and Tom were loudly and shamelessly arguing in the kitchen. You forgot about the guests and you forgot about the party. Dom, Tom’s father, had to tell everyone the party was over, so that they could all leave and not witness your fight.

Jacob shook his head at the sight and said, “They do this all the time. I’m used to it now. I bought myself headphones to keep myself company. Those headphones are my best friends now.”

Taking pity on Jacob, Paddy said, “What music do you listen to? The speaker’s still in the garden and we can plug in your phone there, so we can listen together.”

Sam heard and nodded, “Yeah, I’ll join in too. What’re you into?”

“Count me in. Shit is heated here and I need a break.” Harry sighed before earning a nudge from Sam. “Ouch, what was that for?”

“Watch your mouth.” Sam said.

“That’s fine. I’ve heard so many curse words now. Let’s just go to the garden.” Jacob said as he led the way.

Nikki closed the backdoor after all of them went to the garden and she quickly went back to the kitchen to stop you guys from fighting.

“Hey!” She shouted, causing you and Tom to stop. “Let’s talk in the living room.”

Now, here you were in the living room with Tom, Nikki, and Dom. You never thought that you would ever receive an intervention of some kind.

“Why are you fighting?” Dom asked.

“She was jealous because I was talking to my ex and she was being super unreasonable. It’s so irritating.” Tom answered as he rolled his eyes.

“Have you ever hit each other?” nikki asked and you shook your head. “We would never hit each other.” You cleared up, earning a nod from her.

“Have you ever thought about marriage counseling?” Dom asked and you and Tom shook your heads.

“We don’t need it.” Tom said. “We’re just having a rough patch at the moment.”

Dom laughed, “That’s a funny way of saying it. Son, you’ve been fighting for YEARS. I think it’s time for both of you to get some help and sort out everything.”

“You need to fix this. If not for both of you, then do it for Jacob and Mason. We all know that Mason hates fighting. Imagine how Mason would feel about all this.” Nikki said softly.

“That’s not fair.” Tom shook his head. “You can’t just use my dead son against me.”

“I’m not using him against you. I’m just saying that he would be disappointed in both of you for fighting and for forgetting Jacob.” Nikki snapped.

“Let’s go.” You said quietly.

“What?” Tom turned to you.

“Let’s go to a marriage counselor. Tom, they’re right. We need help. I thought fighting was just in court. I don’t want to experience it at home too. We’re tired from our jobs and I think that’s the reason why we’re snapping at each other. I want us to talk about this before we do or say anything stupid.” You explained as you rubbed your temple with your left hand.

Tom looked down and nodded, “Fine. I don’t want to fight forever.”

You looked at each other and gave him a small smile as you grabbed his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. With that small gesture, Tom hoped that everything would be alright.

Today’s the day for yours and Tom’s first marriage counseling session. Both of you were extremely nervous, but you both knew it had to be done. The drive there was quiet and if you were being honest, you had to admit that being quiet was strange for you and Tom.

When you arrived, you two still hadn't spoken to each other in fear that it might lead to another fight. Both of you were asked to wait in the waiting room until your names were called and when it was, both of you nervously walked in the marriage counselor’s office.

They asked you to take a seat in front of their desk and you did as you were told. They smiled at you and said, “Mr. and Mrs. Holland, am I correct?”

“Yes.” You answered at the same time.

“Alright. Tell me about your relationship. How did it start?” They asked.

You chuckled at the memory and so did Tom. “Well, I was in a relationship when I met her and she had an attitude.” Tom said with a grin.

“That’s true.” You chuckled. “I was a new student in his school and I was just mean because I hated being new and I hated starting over. You see, my family kept moving around but this time, we stayed.”

“So anyway, when my girlfriend and I broke up, I was upset. I was 15 at the time and I thought that she was the one. Of course, I was wrong because I got to know Y/N after that. Something told me that Y/N was someone special. I just didn’t know that she was the one. Of course, I found that out years later. Heck, that’s why I proposed.” Tom admitted.

“Tom was my first boyfriend and I honestly thought we wouldn’t last because we were 16 when we started dating and that’s so young. So, I really didn’t give my all in the relationship because why would I give my all if we weren’t going to last, anyway?” You said, biting your lip.

“I just knew that now.” Tom confessed and then there was silence, but you quickly broke it.

“Of course, I changed my mind.” You said.

“What made you change your mind?” The counselor asked.

“I changed my mind when I met his family. I just felt really special that time and we were already dating for about 5 months. I felt really happy and I felt as if something good is about to happen. I was right.” You smiled as you looked at Tom. “He was the best boyfriend I could ever ask for and I couldn’t imagine being with anyone else.”

The counselor nodded, “Okay and what was your marriage like before?”

“Oh, it was spectacular! We got married when we were 23 years old and we traveled from to time because at that time, we weren’t super busy.” Tom answered. “Then, we had our son, Jacob, the year after that. It was quick and definitely a surprise, but we were excited to be parents. I knew that Y/N would be an excellent mother and she is. I never doubted her, not once and not ever.”

“Everyone said we were crazy for getting married so young, but why should we wait for a long time, y’know? We already know that we’re it for each other. Love is different for everyone and people failed to think about that during those times.” You answered. “A month into our marriage, I still couldn’t get over the fact that I’m his wife. It felt so surreal and I felt like I was on cloud nine. It felt so good.”

“That was before, right?” The counselor asked and both of you nodded. “What do you think changed? What happened?”

“I think it’s because we got busier at work and we had no time for each other. Then, we still had Jacob to take care of and it was just tiring. I guess that’s why we kept snapping at each other. That’s where it all began. The snapping and then it moved to the raising of voices-”

“Then the shouting and yelling, the saying things we don’t mean, and the not talking to each other for days. I honestly thought our marriage was done, but we vowed to each other that we would be there for each other through good times and in bad. Why would I give up on Y/N after a bump on the road? So, I stayed.” Tom continued.

“Does one person feel the need to win whenever you argue?”

“I don’t feel the need to win.” You said.

“I don’t feel the need to win either. I think we argue because we think we’re right and we don’t agree with things.” Tom answered.

“That’s true. We can’t even talk to each other properly without it leading to yet another heated argument. I think this is the longest conversation we have without shouting and yelling and saying things we don’t mean.” You said.

“Why are you here? What made you come here?”

“We came here because we realized that after years of fighting, we need help. After years of fighting, we finally admitted to ourselves that we need help from a professional.” You said.

“What are you hoping to learn from counseling?”

“I want to learn how to deal with our problems without yelling and getting angry about it.” Tom said.

“Okay, and you?”

“I want to learn how to learn the same thing. I can’t go on fighting anymore. We’re supposed to be teammates and we can’t do that if we’re always arguing.” You answered.

“Where would you like to see your marriage by the end of counseling?”

“A strong and healthier marriage, definitely.” You nodded. “I want that for us.”

“By the end of counseling, I want us to still be together. I want us to be better than who we are now especially for Jacob because I feel like our fights are rubbing off on him. He barely talks to us and I hate that.” Tom said and you agreed.

“Okay, thank you for that. That’s all I need for now and I’ll see you in our next session.” The counselor said.

Counseling helped greatly and it made you learn more about yourselves. You learned about your new strengths and weaknesses. Life at home slowly changed too. There were a few fights, but they weren’t as bad as before. Jacob still wouldn’t talk to both of you, though and that scared both of you.

Today was your last day of marriage counseling and the counselor said that there will be a last activity before they can conclude anything.

“I have a set of questions here that I want you both to answer, alright?” The counselor asked and both of you nodded.

Do you trust each other?

Tom: Yes, I trust her with everything in me.

You: I do.

Is there anything you feel you can’t trust each other with?

Both: No.

Have you ever felt the need to check the other person’s phone when they leave it unattended?

Tom: No.

You: Yes, but that was before we were married.

Tom looked at you and you just shrugged, “I’m just being honest.”

Have you ever done anything to lose the trust of the other person?

Tom: No, but I’m sure she had her doubts at some point.

You: No, and he’s right.

What makes you both happy?

Tom: Seeing my family happy.

You: Same answer.

When was the happiest period of time in your marriage, and what about it did you enjoy the most?

Tom: Our wedding day because I finally got to marry the girl of my dreams. I finally had my dream come true.

You: Our one year wedding anniversary because we’ve been together for 8 years in total and married for a year. It blew my mind that we lasted so long and we’re having our first born on the way.

Is there anything the other does that brings you down?

Tom: When she accuses me of not making time for our family. I try to make time, I do. It’s just that I’m always the doctor they call whenever they need something and I can’t help it. I know I promised I’d be there, but I took an oath to be there for patients too. It’s my duty to serve the public and I don’t want to abandon that and aside from being a husband and father, I dreamt about being a doctor too. It would break my heart to not do what I’m supposed to do.

You: When he would blame me for things that aren’t my fault.

Do you feel that you care about each other’s happiness?

Tom: Yes! Last year, she got me golf clubs for my birthday.

You: Yeah and he got me tickets to a concert that I want to go to.

What can you do to share each other’s happiness?

Tom: Go golfing with me.

You: Have a relaxing day together; just me and him.

Do you stress each other out?

Tom: I guess so. We wouldn’t be fighting if we don’t stress each other out.

You: True.

What do you find the most stressful?

Tom: When she doesn’t understand me.

You: When he forgets his role at home.

Do you feel you can come home to each other after a special day and feel better?

Tom: If I was asked this before, I’d say no because I always come home late and she’d be asleep. So, we couldn’t fix our problems. But now, yes.

You: I agree with him.

What do you feel are the biggest stressors in your marriage?

Tom: My job, but I can’t quit.

You: Our schedules because they always clash.

Do you feel like you can talk to each other about everything?

Both:: Yes.

Do you feel like the other listens when you speak?

Both:: Yes.

Do you make love as often as the other would like?

The question made you and Tom giggle causing the counselor to look at both of you. “I’m guessing, you do it more often now than before?”

“No comment.” Tom said, trying to hide a grin on his face.

“Alright, moving on.” The counselor chuckled.

Do you fulfill each other’s needs physically?

Tom: Definitely.

You: Absolutely.

Have you ever thought about seeing someone else?

Tom: No.

You: Never in a million years.

Have you ever seen someone else while you’ve been together?

Both:: No.

Do you still communicate with others you’ve been with intimately?

Tom: No.

You: I’ve never been with anyone else prior to Tom.

Is there anything in the past that the other has done that still bothers you?

Tom: I don’t think so; no.

You: The way he laughed with his ex at his parents’ wedding anniversary party. This is completely on my part now; it’s not his fault.

If you could change one thing about the past, what would it be?

Tom: The thing that got us into this whole mess. I would like to completely remove that.

You: Same here.

Would you say your relationship has been mostly good, mostly bad, or something in between?

Tom: Something in between.

You: Yes. No relationship is perfect.

Are there any conflicts in the past that you feel have not been resolved?

Both:: No.

What are some fond memories you have about the past?

Tom: When we first started dating, blissfully unaware of what our future will hold.

You: When we still had Mason.

Tom looked at you with a sad smile and grabbed your hand.

Do you want to remain married?

Both: Yes.

Where would you like to see each other a year from now?

Tom: Hopefully having a daughter.

You: True. I would like that.

What about five years from now?

Tom: New and improved.

You: Better at handling our stress.

What is one thing you’ve always loved about the other?

Tom: She’s caring and loving.

You: His passion for the things he loves.

If you could take a vacation, just the two of you, where would you go?

Both: To where we had our honeymoon.

What is something the other does that makes you smile?

Tom: When I see her with Jacob

You: When I see him being in his natural element.

What is your most cherished memory of the two of you?

Tom: When we first bought our house.

You: When we officially became parents.

What is something about your marriage that you wouldn’t change for anything?

Tom: Everything despite the fighting and crying.

You: Same here.

“This is now your last day for marriage counseling. On our first meeting, I asked you where you see yourselves at the end of marriage counseling. Did it happen?” The counselor asked as they looked at the two of you seriously.

You thought about it for a while before looking at each other.

"I think so." You answered. "I'm not really sure."

Tom nodded, "Yes, I'm not sure too."

* * * *

lmao cliffhanger bc there'll be two endings

this took me DAYS to write and i hope you guys enjoyed it! feedback would be lovely x

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @blueleatherbag @cocoamoonmalfoy @thatforgottenangel @parkerpeter24 @turtoix @slutforsr @givebuckyhisplumsnow @buckys-little-hoe @runawayolives @chewymoustachio @hollandsrecs @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @yourstrulyamour @juliediggory @lharrietg @alexx-stancati @rumplebutterbaby @dummiesshort @spideyspeaches @thevelvetseries @buckymylove @quxxnxfhxll @marvelsimps @dreamy-clousds @bora-world @hunnybunimdun @supred12

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @holland-styles @trustfundparker @calltothewild @felicityparkers @hufflepuffprincess24 @tommysparker @justasmisunderstoodasloki @quaksonhehe @call-me-baby-gir1 @itstaskeen @theonly1outof-a-billion @lost-in-the-stars03 @justafangirlduh @piscesparker @speedymaximoff @miraclesoflove @lexirv @blairscott @getbywithasmile @pqrkerr @lavender-writer @blackbat2020 @hoodpankow

[futurewriter2000]

Taking a Risk

A/N: I think I just fell in love with Ron with this one. God, I love that man. Also ginger men should have more loving. I’m so glad I got this request because I enjoyed writing this every bit.

REQUEST by @tmrwriter​: I was wondering if you could write a imagine about the reader and Ron Weasley being really obvious that they have a crush on each other, but Harry and Hermione try to push them to get together? IDK but i <3 the work u do! Keep up the great work!!

XX

It takes a lot of strength and time for a person to admit their true emotions and if emotions weren’t complicated, maybe everything would be much easier. 

You tried to ignore the butterflies and the uncomfortable heat on your cheeks as you were in the same room as him. Harry was digging deep into his potion’s essay, as well as Hermione, who was reading so fast. Both you and Ron have been trying to write the assignment for Flitwick’s class. He was sitting next to you, pretending to read the instructions for the assignment. Harry and Hermione already finished theirs, thanks to the brilliant Hermione Granger, who likes to finishe everything ahead. They had partnered up immediately after Flitwick said that the assignment must be done in pairs. Ron and you have decided to partner up as well.

That was harder than it sounded. Every time he was close to you, your body would tense up, your hands would become clammy and your cheeks were in this nice rosey colour. Every time you would glance at him, he was already watching you. His piercing blue eyes were soft on you, always were. The way he admired every little feature on you. The lines at the corners of your mouth whenever you smiled, the blush on your cheeks and the tension between your eyebrows. Every single bone in his body was telling him that everything pointed to him- that the blush on your cheeks were caused by him. 

When you caught him staring it was his turn to blush. His freckles that matched his eyes so perfectly hid under the blush of his cheeks. Sometimes you could see it reach his ears that almost glowed in a red colour. Just like him, you thought that all the signs pointed at you- that maybe, just maybe, in a glimmer of hope, you were the cause of his frustration. 

You’d bump into him- just gently enough to shake him out of his thoughts. He’d look at you with a grin and stared into your eyes until you felt your stomach twist and turn inside of you. It made you uncomfortable but excited in a pleasing way. You smiled and turned your eyes away, back into the book that you had to focus on but to God’s will, you couldn’t do it with his knee touching yours and spreading all sorts of feelings through your body. 

Oh, he did it on purpase. He wasn’t the shy, awkward kid you had met in your First year. No, something happened during the summer that made him so much more confident in himself. He’d bump his knee continuously,  teasing you even. 

You’d smile through your blush. “What are you doing?” you asked and he’d turn away with a grin. 

“Looking.” he dragged the word out as he flipped through the pages. 

He looked up at Hermione, still grinning and it didn’t last any second longer to let Hermione know what that meant. She moved her elbow a bit too fast until it hit the mug of tea and spilled it all over Harry’s essay and his robes. 

“Hermione!” Harry glared at her, feeling the boiling water scorch his skin. “That’s my assig-”

“Oh, I’m so sorry Harry!” she quickly got up, catching all of your attention. “Here- let’s go to my dorm. I think I have a book that can fix all of this.” she pulled his sleeve but Harry pulled back.

“I have all of my stuff here. Can’t you bring your book here.” he started to calm down a bit yet a little bit of anger was still present in his tone. 

Hermione couldn’t believe his brain. “No, Harry. No, I cannot.”

“Why not?” Harry kept looking as she continued to spread her eyes widely at him, glancing over at the pair.

“Because-” she tried to come up with an excuse. “-it would be faster if you take the essay before it’s too late.” 

“What?” Harry furrowed his eyebrows. 

“Oh, for God’s sake Harry.” she grabbed his sleeve and started pulling him with him, grabbing the essay in as well. You could see and hear them whispering something to each other, Hermione gently hitting Harry over the head with the essay.

“What was that for?” he rubbed the back of his head.

“How dim-witted could you be, Harry?” you could hear as both of them turned around the corner and disappeared.

Both you and Ron laughed at their disappearance. 

“Tossers.” Ron chuckled under his breath, catching your attention and making your realize that you and him were completely alone in the common room. Not a soul left.

It caused the blush to creep back to your cheeks, even your ears but you tried to focus back on the book... the book that was on his side of the table. 

“Okay, so how about we finally finish this assignment today and-”

“Isn’t it due till the end of the week?” he furrowed his eyebrows at you.

“It is but don’t you want to finish it sooner?” you asked, completely oblivious to his intention.

His smile fell into a fading frown as he turned around to the book and kept looking at you. He was a bit frustrated if he was honest with himself. This assignment gave the two of you time to spend together and you just wanted to finish this. So did that mean that you didn’t have feelings for him... not even a little bit. 

You could see him hesitating in his answer, making you a bit more aware of the true meaning of your question. 

“I guess so.” he said, forcing a smile on his face as he looked at you. 

It took you his answer to realise that you wanted to hear the opposite of what he said. It took you his answer and his hesitation to realise that this assignment gave both of you time alone and that you had done nothing but love that time alone with him. 

“Afraid of losing your reputation?” you bumped into him, trying to lighten up the mood that you had apereantly ruined. 

“What reputation?” he furrowed his eyebrows, feeling your knee pressed against him and causing him to get a bit more flustered. 

Seeing his face glow red, you felt the adrenalin pump your heart and risk the chance of getting it broken. You were done waiting for answers. You wanted to know now and the adrenalin gave you an enormous amount of courage to do so. You leaned forward, face to face as he swallowed thickly. 

Everything told you to just go for it. Every single bone in your body but you chickened out, so you reached for the book on his side and backed away slowly. 

Your heart was thumping, not only in your chest but you could feel every vein in your body press against your skin. “The one where you do everything last minute. Imagine shocking Flitwick with giving him the assignment  a day early.” you let out a nervous laugh, flipping through the pages but not really knowing what you were looking for.

He was silent for a while, trying to gather his thoughts and his body funtion because suddenly, he couldn’t move a thing- not even his mouth. 

“Uhm-” he cleared his throat, smiling a bit awkwardly. “Yeah.” he let out a gentle laugh, staring at you.

What did you just do? You leaned forward, close enough to kiss him and he caught you staring at his lips but it took you a milisecond to change your mind and back away. 

Merlin, all he wanted was to kiss you- to touch you, to hold you so close but all he did was watch you from the end of his couch. 

He stared into the piece of parchment. There was nothing written on there. The two of you have been sitting here for an hour and there was literally not even a draft- not on his side and not on yours. What did the two of you do for the entire hour if not do the assignment? 

He furrowed his eyebrows and looked on your side of the desk, finding another piece of parchment completely empty. He found you flipping through the pages of a book but your eyes were directed somewhere at the floor and your thoughts somewhere at the clouds. 

He felt himself lick his lips. You were about to kiss him, weren’t you?

He felt his confidence come back from the shadows it hid. He put the book on the desk, seeing as you have noticed it with the flick of your eyes but decided to ignore him. You didn’t say a word, only pretended to read as fast as Hermione and flip a page. The funny problem was that nobody else could read as fast as Hermione.

He felt himself smile as he approached you, slowly sitting closer and closer to you. His large hand placed itself on the top of the book and you could see nice veins pop define the lines of his hands. His nails weren’t bitten like Harry’s were but they were nicely taken care of and healthy. He pulled the book away and closed it, then putting it gently on the desk. 

You didn’t dare to look into his eyes. You knew that the moment you do, you’d melt away into a puddle of emotions. 

Your heart was pumping so hard in your chest you thought it would burst. When his nicely large hands removed themselves from the book, they followed up to your thighs and up to your own hands. They were so small compared to his and you found your fingers wonder on every freckle they had.

He smiled at the wonderfully nice and gentle reaction he got from you. It only boosted his confidence. He came too far, he was not about to back down now. 

“(y/n).” he spoke softly and quietly. “Look at me.” he continued. “I have to tell you something.”

With all your might, you looked up into his blue eyes, feeling your soul catch on fire as you did. He was smiling at you with courage but you could see flashes of anxiety come and go. 

You wanted him to tell you, tell you now. Right now!

So, you took his hands into a firmer grip and pulled them a bit closer- watching him with eyes that almost pleaded him to tell you what you wanted to hear. 

He took a deep breath in and out. This felt so much harder that he ever imagined it to be. You were his best friend and now, you were looking him with eyes that expected something and all he could hope for was that he would exceed in your expectations. 

“I like you.” he seemed to spill out, softer than he intended to. Your grip tightened and he could feel his hands squeeze as if you were expecting more. “More than friends.” he continued, raising gaze from your hands up to your eyes, only to find them glimmering in joy. Your smile was sincere and gorgeous- just like the rest of you. “And I would really, desperately want to kiss you.” he started leaning forward, seeing as you nodded gently and moved in as well. 

He was so afraid yet eager to finally get the chance to kiss you- no, not the chance. To actually, finally kiss you. 

It was just a small touch of your lips and as soon as he felt them against his own, he slipped in his tongue and deepened the kiss. His hand removed itself from yours and went up to your jaw, pulling you closer. Both of your hands went up from his abdoment to his chest, gripping and twisting the shirt in your hands. He smiled as he had felt your urge to kiss him, to feel proud of himself risking his heart to tell you what he had felt because he had felt it for so long, he almost felt himself burst. 

He removed his hands your cheeks and slid them down to your waist, gripping you firmly and pulling you onto his lap. The two of you parted only for a moment, a second, to take a breath, to look each other into the eyes filled with joy and lust. He wanted to lean in but you pressed your thumb on his lips, dragging it down and brushing it all over his lower lip. He smiled at your touch yet he still wanted more. 

“I like you too.” you said and it took him by surprise to hear you say that. He didn’t know he needed to. He thought that the kiss was just enough to prove him that you shared the same feelings as he did but saying those words to him felt even better, like a conformation. 

“Good. Because this would have been awkward if you didn’t.” he smiled and you laughed, pulling him into another kiss. 

[scarletjedi]

Untitled Untamed Time Travel Fix-it Fic but make it Mingcheng pt 3A

@piyo-13

Part 1: The Setup

Part 2A: Gusu Revisited

Part 2B: Gusu Unleashed!

Part 3A: The Return of the Plot

One day, Lan Qiren announces that there will be several days without classes, as he is expected to attend a discussion conference in Qinghe. Students are expected to continue their studies independently, but everyone knows that it’s some much needed time off.

And, if Jiang Cheng’s memory serves, this was when Lan Xichen led them to fight the Waterborne Abyss. It plays out more or less as Jiang Cheng remembers, with Lan Xichen leading a mixed group of juniors down to the lake. The group consisted of himself, Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji and a few Lan disciples, as well as Wen Ning and Wen Qing. Nie Huaisang had smothered laughter when Xichen had asked, insisting that he was going to stay and “study.” Jiang Cheng wasn't sure if Lan Xichen believed him, but Nie Huaisang really wasn’t a strong cultivator, and he certainly wouldn’t be able to handle a water demon.

But, knowing what the problem actually was, and being able to convince Lan Xichen that this was more than a few water ghouls without saying “I’m from the future and we’ve done this already: here’s what you need to know” was a bit beyond Jaing Cheng’s skill. Wangji was no help, nor was Wei Wuxian, and Jiang Cheng narrowed his eyes, suspicious.

Later, Jiang Cheng would shake his head at his naivete in thinking Wei Wuxian had something planned using resentful energy, instead of what he actually did, which was flirt inappropriately with Lan Wangji the entire time.

Granted, that wasn’t much different from the first time, but this time Lan Wangji flirted back, and yeah, their flirting looked a hell of a lot light fighting together (and the pang of jealousy Jiang Cheng felt was an old ghost, and easily put to rest. He had his brother back, and he wasn’t going to let old hurts sour what was becoming a stronger bond) — but it also looked a hell of a lot like foreplay--

On the boat next to him, Lan Xichen’s smile had become a little fixed, his neck flushed an embarrassed red. When he met Jiang Cheng’s eye, Jiang Cheng sent him the same commiserating look he would sent A-Jie when Wei Wuxian was being ridiculous. Lan Xichen started, but sent a rueful (and, hopefully, honest) smile in return.

The events played out much as they had before. Su She lost his sword in the lake. Wei Wuxian almost fell into the abyss trying to save Wen Ning. Lan Xichen put the pieces together and came up with Qishan Wen. And, if Wen Ning’s eyes were less ghost-white, and more fierce-corpse black, well — it’s not like it would be something others would recognize.

They traveled back to The Cloud Recesses by boat, and when Wei Wuxian held up a pair of surreptitiously purchased bottles, Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes.

Yeah, what the hell. He could use a drink.

~*~

That evening is surreal as everyone piles into the room Jiang Cheng shares with Wei Wuxian. Some things are the same as before: there are peanuts to eat, and their outer robes are thrown over the windows to hide the lights of the lanterns that will remain lit well after curfew. But this time, it's more than just him and Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang. This time Jin Zixuan is there, holding a bag of boiled sweets like it’s an entrance fee. Wen Ning, sitting hunched over as if it could make his already surprisingly broad frame smaller, brought roasted and salted melon seeds. One concerning thing, however, was that Nie Huaisang, along with the peanuts, had insisted on bringing “entertainment.” Jiang Cheng hoped it was game cards, but it was more likely to be porn.

...or porn themed game cards...

Oh, fuck, it was porn-themed game cards, wasn’t it?

Jiang Cheng shook his head, trying to chase the worry away. There was a larger issue at present, one that challenged everything Jiang Cheng remembered about their group’s shared past...

The wine was provided by Lan Wangji.

Sure, Wei Wuxian had snagged a couple bottles on the boat ride through the market, same as last time, but he had only managed to grab two bottles. No, when Lan Wangji had arrived, walking in like he was busting them for breaking the rules *again*, he had, instead, pulled *three* bottles from his sleeve, and Jiang Cheng wasn’t entirely convinced there wasn’t more stored there for later. It certainly seemed like something this Lan Wangji would do to please Wei Wuxian — and judging by the way Wei Wuxian threw himself into Lan Wangji’s arms, it was *working*

Jiang Cheng sat next to Nie Huaisang, which placed him next to Wen Ning. Their tentative truce held as Wen Ning smiled at him, tight lipped but honest. Jiang Cheng was sure his returning expression was no less pained. Jin Zixuan sat gingerly on Nie Huaisang’s other side.

Jiang Cheng grabbed one of the bottles on the table, and Nie Huaisang hurriedly pulled several cups from somewhere. Jiang Cheng poured four cups, and dropped the bottle on the table. Wei Wuxian could get his own when he put down Lan Wangji.

Roughly, though gentle enough not to spill, Jiang Cheng placed a drink before Nie Huaisang and Wen Ning, and then all but shoved a third at Jin Zixuan. “Drink up,” he said brusquely, downing his own glass and pouring another.

“Jiang Cheng!” Wei Wuxian protested — Oh, now he’s paying attention! — “Savor the wine! Emperor’s Smile is a wine so unparalleled—”

“I’m about to ask him about A-jie,” Jiang Cheng snapped, and Wei Wuxian fell silent. Then, to Zixuan, who had remained frozen, cup in hand: “Drink up!”

Jin ZIxuan drank.

It didn’t take long for his face to flush, his eyes to blink more slowly — long enough for Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian to join them, Wei Wuxian leaning in to check on Wen Ning, who nodded back. Ignoring that exchange, Jiang Cheng watched Jin Zixuan pour another cup with more care than usual. He had to admit, he was a little surprised: he expected greater tolerance for pleasures from someone from Lanling Jin.

“So,” Jiang Cheng said, not too proud to admit that he enjoyed the sudden look of terror in Jin Zixuan’s eyes. “Why don’t you want to marry my sister?”

Huaisang choked on his drink, but Jin Zixuan lowered his cup, answering seriously. “I don’t know your sister.”

Jiang Cheng waited, but there was nothing more forthcoming. “That’s it? You don’t know her? Tsh—” he pointed at Jin Zixuan with the finger of the hand holding his cup. “That’s easily fixed.”

Jin Zixuan...slumped. There was no other word for it, and Jiang Cheng was reminded, yet again, that Jin Zixuan was only fifteen — the only actual teenager in the room.

Jiang Cheng sighed internally. That meant he had to be an adult about this, didn’t it? Damnit.

He held up a hand to stop Wei Wuxian’s irate sputtering from becoming actual words. “Don’t you want to know your intended?”

Jin Zixuan glared at him, sullen, and Jiang Cheng had a sudden flash of Jin Ling, and what he would become as a teenager — even as a toddler, the child clearly hadn’t inherited his mother’s composure. But, Jiang Cheng was the adult in the room (by default. Huaisang was, actually, the oldest, but Jiang Cheng was confident in thinking that didn’t count when Huaisang was determined to recapture his misspent youth in between plotting the fate of the cultivation world), and being the adult meant waiting out the teenager.

After a long moment Jin Zixuan downed his drink, as if for courage, and spat, “I would like one thing in my life to be my own!” It was supposed to be angry, and Jiang Cheng could sympathize with that anger — how much of his own life was wha Jiang Cheng would have chosen? — but in this moment, it was just even more clean that Jin Zixuan was still a teenager — and a poorly socialized one at that.

Jiang Cheng knew Luo Qingyang had tried her best, but there was only so much even as capable a woman as she could do in a place like Jinlingtai.

“You are a sect heir—” Jiang Cheng began, but Jin Zixuan cut him off.

“So I can choose nothing for myself?!”

Jiang Cheng slammed his palm on the table, the echoing crack of it silencing and stilling the room. “Yes! Exactly! Your life is not your own; it has never been your own, and sometimes that’s easy, but sometimes...” He swallowed, mind’s eye full of battlefield thunder and a surprisingly boyish grin, “sometimes life will seem to offer you everything you ever wanted and you cannot take it because your sect comes first.” Mortifyingly, his voice cracks, and Nie Huaisang shows some damned tact by gripping his hand in comfort under the table where Jin Zixuan can’t see — and Lan Wangji’s face looks as stoic as he ever did in Jiang Cheng’s memories, and Wei Wuxian looks like he might cry, and—-

Jiang Cheng cleared his throat. “So all you can do is choose the way you face it. You can be sullen and cry “why me” and like miserable for both you and her, who has no more choice in this that you. You can make things difficult for your sect, mine, our parents — or, you can choose to make an effort, get to know A-Jie. You can choose to walk into the future with an ally.” He narrowed his eyes. “Or do you want a marriage like your parents’? I know I wouldn’t wish mine on anybody.”

He raised his cup to drink, but it was empty. A bottle appeared in his field of vision, and Jiang Cheng watched as Nie Huaisang filled his cup.

“Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian began softly, but he shook his head.

Pointing at Jin Zixuan, Jiang Cheng said. “Make you choice. Now,” he sniffed. “Huaisang, you promised entertainment?”

“I did!” Nie Huaisang said, giggling as he reached into his sleeve and pulled out a stack of cards with a flourish. “I found these in a little shop in Qinghe. The art is exquisite, and they’re quite rare, so be careful! Don’t spill anything on them!”

With a practiced flick of his wrist, he spread them on the table. Jin Zixuan choked and Jiang Cheng sighed.

Yep. Porn cards.

Squinting, he picked up one to get a better look. Oh. Cutsleeve porn cards. Well.

“Nie-xiong!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, half-delighted and half-scandalized. He leaned in closer to look, but it was Lan Wangji who picked up a card to study it more closely. He showed it to Wei Wuxian, who turned purple, grabbing the card and hiding it against his chest. “Lan Zhan!”

“Ah ah! Don’t bend them!” Nie Huaisang scolded, flapping his fingers as he would his fan.

“You-!” Wei Wuxian tried, but he couldn’t get the words out past his mortification. Jiang Cheng smirked and picked up a card of his own, not really looking closely but loving the way Wei Wuxian made a noise like steam escaping. Really, his favorite song.

After that, their little group was solidified. It gained them some severe looks from Wen Qing, (and one terrifying moment when Jiang Cheng, in a hurry to make it back to his dorms before curfew, turned a corner and came face to face with her. She was smaller than he remembered, the force of her presence making her grow in his memory, but after a moment of far too intense eye-contact, Jiang Cheng stepped aside to let her pass, which she did. Jiang Cheng told himself that the flash of light by her fingertips was an illusion, and not her needles), but every time Lan Xichen saw their group with Lan Wangji he smiled and let them be.

Once, Jiang Cheng saw Jin Zixuan talking closely with Jiang Yanli, and slowed down until he saw Mianmian standing within earshot, pointedly not looking. No need to get involved, himself. Mianmian was more than capable of smacking him if Jin Zixuan stepped out of line.

Wen Ning was a surprising help for Nie Huaisang, possessing an incredible amount of patience and a talent for tutoring. When Nie Huaisang passed the next exam without asking Wei Wuxian to help him cheat, he threw himself at the shy boy, draping over him the way he used to his brother’s sworn brothers, sobbing his thanks. Wen Ning awkwardly patted his back and waited for him to stand.

~*~

So, since this is the Untamed canon, the whole Yin Iron thing happens, only this time Wangxian *know* they’ve eloped, and have decided to make that everyone *else’s* problem by being utterly shameless while keeping knowledge of their elopement to the core group of time travelers. Wangji makes it clear that he would be traveling with Wei Ying, who also makes it clear that there is no way he would let Lan Zhan handle this alone. The plan is still to travel after the lectures complete.

Nie Huaisang is adamant that they have to leave before that if they wait, they’ll miss Xue Yang, and delaying too long would trap them between Gusu and Wen Xu. Lan Wangji is perfectly happen to fuck up Wen Xu, but agrees the Yin Iron is more important.

Either way, the lantern festival comes, and Jin Zixuan isn’t a total jerkwad, having actually talked to Yanl at some point — actually, based on the way they’re looking at each other, they probably talked a lot. Mianmian caught Jiang Cheng’s eye and winked. Huh.

Leaning in closer to Nie Huaisang, Jiang Cheng wurmured, “if my sister marries Jin Zixuan before the war, how badly will that impact your plans?”

Nie Huaisang waved his hand, clearly focusing more on his lantern. “I’ve several contingencies for that, don’t worry!”

The rest of the lantern lighting goes off without a hitch, and Jiang Cheng releases his lantern with a wish that he refuses to speak out loud.

Afterwards, there’s still a commotion, but instead of Wei Wuxian punching Jin Zixuan because he’s being a dick, it’s becuse several disciples stumbled over Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian ... well, they were fully clothed then Jiang Cheng opened up, so it couldn’t have been anything too scandalous. When they’re brought before Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen for discipline, the former looks about ready to qi deviate, while Lan Xichen was absolutely planning Lan Wangji’s wedding robes.

Jaing Cheng narrowed his eyes.

Even Lan Xichen’s composure cracked, however, when Lan Wangji dropped the “we eloped” bomb, and Jiang Cheng heard Lan Qiren shout for the first time off of a battlefield. Eventually, however, it was decided that the handfasting could be seen as an engagement rather than a marriage (and even Jiang Cheng recognized how stubborn Lan Wangji looked at that), and the couple would be seen as officially courting. The proper letters and gifts would be delivered to Yunmeng Jiang immediately—

“We should wait!” Wei Wuxian blurted out, and hand to backtrack quickly to explain: dealing with the Yin Iron should take precedence. If they started formal marriage proceedings, then Lan Wangji wouldn’t be available to hunt the Yin Iron. So, they should wait until after their search before sending the letters.

“We cannot allow you both to go alone, even if nothing is yet official, there is still propriety to observe.”

Somehow, neither Wei Ying nor Lan Wangji let slip their late nights in the Jingshi, and Jiang Cheng found himself saying goodbye to Yanli as he and Nie Huaisang prepared to travel with the two newlyweds.

~*~.

The events play out much the same as before, only this time instead of sending Meng Yao, Nie Mingjue sends Nie Zonghui to collect them and Xue Yang (who, after they testify the his confessions of his crimes) is summarily executed - and then, they have two pieces of Yin Iron.

But, before that happens, their party arrives in Qinghe.

Nie Mingjue is waiting for them, like before, but this time there is a noticeable pause when he sets eyes on Jaing Cheng (and oh, but he wasn’t ready—) — long enough a pause that those watching noticed, and it was only at Huaisang’s prompting that Nie Mingjue began to speak, repeating the words he said the first time as if a script he was told to follow, save for the way he paused again after his paise made Jiang Cheng flush like a teenager with a crush—

Nie Zonghui gives his report and takes Xue Yang away, and Meng Yao leads “the visiting young masters” away to rest and refresh themselves from travel. The minute they are alone, Nie Huaisang *flings* himself at Nie Mingjue, sobbing. “DA-GE!”

“Didi, what did you do?!” Nie Mingjue demands, his words belied by his tone, near tears himself, and the way he holds Huaisang back just as tightly.

Gathering himself, Nie Huaisang steps back, squares his shoulders, and snaps open his fan. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Da-ge. I didn’t do anything.” Mingjue’s eyes narrow and the fan flutters. “Really it’s all about being in the right place.” He blinked, slow. “At the right time.”

Dinner that night is a tense affair, not out of discomfort, but out of the need to keep up pretense. Mingjue took the opportunity between meeting with his brother and the meal to met out Xue Yang’s sentence, and when Meng Yao idly commented on the fact that acting unilaterally as he had would make certain political allegiances difficult, Nie Mingjue commented that war was inherently difficult, and if the Nie sect were the only ones to notice that Wen Ruohan had gone to war without informing the rest of them, that was hardly his fault, was it.

(Meng Yao had looked at him, and when Nie Mingjue raised an eyebrow, he shook his head. “Nothing, sect leader, just...it always surprises me more when you are like your brother than when your brother reminds me of you.”

Nie Mingjue had laughed, low and self-aware. He did hope that they were able to keep Meng Yao from making the same mistakes in this life: he did, genuinely, like the man.)

They did not keep silent during the meal, as they were not in Gusu, but as was customary during joint functions, they refrained from discussing anything of substance until the meal was over, and no one pressed Lan Wangji to speak. But, once the meal was over and they lingered over a delightful Qinghe wine that was clearly not chosen by Nie Mingjue himself, not the way he looked surprised by the contents of his cup, Nie Mingjue dismissed the staff and gave Meng Yao his leave for the night. It was only once the door was closed behind them that the facade dropped.

Nie Mingjue rubbed his forehead. “All of you? Us? All of us?” he asked, sounding far too tired, and Jiang Cheng, sitting opposite Nie Huaisang, next in line from Nie Mingjue, moved to reach out in comfort without thinking. Mingjue was seated too far away, however, and Jiang Cheng watched, instead, as Nie Mingjue gathered himself once more.

When Mingjue looked up, Jiang Cheng began talking, explaining that it was only supposed to be him, but something had gone wrong. That they were lucky that their error brought more people along and did not, for example, kill any of them. In such a ritual, Jiang Cheng was pretty sure it would not be a normal death, and despite the rituals he had undergone to prevent such things, he did not want to haunt the earth after attempting and failing to go back in time.

“Is this all of us?”

“There’s one more,” Nie Huaisang said, and hesitated. “He’s on our side, and always has been!”

Nie Mingjue lowered the cup. “Who?”

“Wen Qionglin,” Nie Huaisang said, and raised his fan to cover his mouth. “The Ghost General.”

Nie MIngjue breathed deeply through his nose, letting it out slowly even as Baxia rattled eagerly beside him. Jiang Cheng eyed the saber warily - he didn’t know what effect traveling through time would have on Mingjue’s qi, and he didn’t want his lover to deviate before they had a chance to keep him alive.

But, Baxia settled, and Mingjue turned his focus on Wei Wuxian. “Yes. Let’s talk about the Ghost General.” Jiang Cheng wasn’t surprised when Lan Wangji’s arm came up between Wei Wuxian and Nie Mingjue, nor when Wei Wuxian patted it gently, trying to urge Lan Wangji to step aside. Lan Wangji didn’t move, and Jiang Cheng cleared his throat, sitting up straight to speak like the sect leader he was, even if he wasn’t yet.

Oh, he’s going to have to face that soon, isn’t he?

“Wei Wuxian’s cultivation is not an issue. The circumstances that lead to its creation will not be repeated,” and here, he turned to Wei Wuxian. “Under any circumstances.”

Wei Wuxian opened his mouth as if to argue, shot his eyes sideways to Lan Wangji, and slumped, visibly, as if he was truly still a teenager. He nodded, holding up three fingers in salute.

“And what circumstances were those?” Nie Mingjue asked, raising an eyebrow. “If this is something that could be replicated—”

“It isn’t,” Jiang Cheng snapped. Nie Mingjue looked at him in surprise: it wasn’t that Jiang Cheng had never snapped at him before, but perhaps he could tell how upsetting Jiang Cheng found the whole mess. He forces himself to settle, to lower his shoulders and unclench his jaw. Softening his voice as much as he could, he offered: “Later.”

Nie Mingjue watched him for a moment, and then nodded.

Of course Wei Wuxian had to ruin it. “Jiang Cheng is correct in saying that the conditions wont be repeated, and the effects of my research are not currently affecting this world, it doesn’t change the fact that I know this path - I am still capable of it’s cultivation.”

“Good,” Nie Huaisang said, his tone steely enough to override any other reactions to that proclamation. “Your skills were instrumental in not only ending the war, but winning. We’ll need your talents again if we want to defeat Wen Ruohan.”

After a moment, Nie Mingjue nodded. “I have to agree. I don’t like it, you’re too talented a cultivator to lose you to wicked tricks a second time, but I can’t deny that it was effective on the battlefield.”

“Perhaps not as your primary path of cultivation?” Lan Wangji said, the plea within obvious. Wei Wuxian smiled at him, softly enough that it was as if the rest of them suddenly didn’t exist.

“Don’t worry, Lan-er-gege. I just got Suibian back - I have no desire to cast her aside so quickly.”

From the corner of his eye, Jiang Cheng saw Nie Mingjue frown at that - probably remembering all the times Wei Wuxian publicly refused to wear his sword.

“How close are we to war?” Jiang Cheng asked, and as a distraction, it worked. It was also a legitimate question: his first time though, Jiang Cheng hadn’t been unaware of the political tumult, but he was also fifteen and preoccupied by more local matters. Lotus Pier’s policy of “not our business” didn’t help him remember the details.

Well, the details before it burned.

The conversation shifted into a true council of war; the Wen forces acted much the same as before, which confirmed to Nie Huaisang that there probably wasn’t another rogue time traveler on the loose. Unlike before, however, Nie Mingjue had been busy, setting Meng Yao to the task of establishing correspondence (in Nie Mingjue’s name, of course) between the other major sects, seeking to bring them closer together earlier, to hopefully fend off some of the destruction.

So far, it hadn’t worked.

“Wen Xu is already marching on Cloud Recesses,” Lan Wangji said, and Nie Mingjue nodded.

“I have a team of Nie disciples ready to escort you back to Gusu, to aid in the defence of your home. They will be ready to leave in the morning, you should make better time if you fly, and should beat Wen Xu there.” Lan Wangji bowed his thanks, and leaned into Wei Wuxian when he attached himself to Lan Wangji’s side. Jiang Cheng didn’t watch - it seemed that the lovebirds finally realized that their responsibilities were pulling them in two different directions, for now.

Turning away, Jiang Cheng met Nie Mingjue’s eyes, and followed him from the chamber towards a reunion of his own.

Part 3B: The Road to War!

[sw124]

MLC: Josie and Viper

[Symbiote Boyfriend]

She hadn’t moved all day, she barely ate anything all week, she didn’t speak to anyone for almost a month; her phone muted. She tossed and turned on her couch from time to time but mostly to keep a cramp in her leg at bay. The only time she moved from the couch was to use the restroom, if it wasn’t for Viper she probably would have trouble even moving a single finger.

“Babe, honey you need to eat.”

Josie tilted her head towards the voice, no one was in the room. Her stomach complied with the tone, it growled like a ticked off bear. With a heavy sigh she walked into the kitchen, she went to the fridge and pulled out a gallon of milk. From her back a large ocean-black tendril extended and pulled out a box of cereal and a large bowl. Josie picked up two spoons and went back to the couch, once the cereal was made the tendril picked up the remote and turned on the TV; from her shoulder a larger mass formed a head and turned to her. Large milky eyes curved upwards before leaning and gently placing a soft kiss on her cheek.

“….Thanks sweetie…….sorry about all this-“ she was silenced with a smaller tendril touching her lips.

“Babe you got nothing to be sorry about, come on lets watch some dumbass commercials and classic cartoons. We’ll deal with what happened later…ok?”

Viper nearly melted seeing her smile, he could feel that little spark of joy in her…but then get smothered by guilt again…he had to help her but problem was how.

After the seventh spoonful of chocolate cereal came a rather interesting commercial. It was an ad for the Meta Clinic and…Monster/Human couples therapy? This made the couple pause, this was…well this was new! Sure there were dating sites, clubs, cafes and speed dating for people looking for monster boy/girlfriends but now offering couples therapy?

Viper wanted so badly to grab the phone and call for an appointment but…he didn’t wanna force Josie into something like that. He’d be doing more damage then good…he’d start by talking about it.

[Two weeks later]

“Viper and Josie?” The secretary called out. Josie looked up from her phone and stood up.

“Thats us…” Viper extended his head from her back giving a nod.

“Dr. Fortune will see you now, please head back down the hall to room 7 please.”

With a nervous smile she proceeded down the hall, Vipers head gently tucked beside her..whispering soothing nonsense. This was enough to at least quell the rising panic in her chest, finally they came to a door with the number 7 on it. With a hard gulp Josie pushed opened the door…

The room was massive! It almost looked like the lobby of a hotel, hell it even had a pool in the corner of the room and a tank! The room was painted in shades of two-toned moss, the air smelled of perpetual rainfall…and lemon. It was there but didn’t overpower…the temperature was perfect.

In the center of the room were two chairs, a large love-seat sofa and a dark grey armchair. Between them was a white round table with a pitcher of water and three glasses. In the grey armchair….was the doctor they came to see.

“Ah, you must be Josie and Viper. Please come in, have a seat.”

She hesitated but…Josie complied, the love-seat felt like if jelly and clouds got married and had a baby. It was so soft and cool to the touch, best part she didn’t sink it like some other chairs. Viper loved the feeling, hell he could just imagine cuddling up with his girl on this couch watching old sci-fi movies.

“Lets get started, first can you tell me how you met an how long have you two been together?”

Josie paused…then spoke. “Well…Viper an I met via collage..we had the same class, we got paired up and it sorta started from there. We’ve been together for about…two years now.”

“What kind of class were you in?”

“It was a philosophy class, I took it cause I was curious on what made philosophy so damn interesting.” Said Viper.

“I personally took it cause I’ve loved things that sorta question the norm of society. Our project was to listen to one of the stories of Plato, we got ‘The allegory of the cave’ and write our thoughts on the meaning and reasons behind it….those were some of the best nights I ever had.”

Josie never noticed the subtle blush on her cheeks, but that smile she had told the Doctor everything they needed to know, even Viper couldn’t hide his smile.

“You and Viper have a very close relationship I can tell…however the reason why you’re here is not really about the two of you. Its the people around you, mainly family.”

You could almost make out Josie’s heart in her throat, Viper; if he had one, would have been in his as well. Dr.Fortune took a sip of water and…with a sniper-gaze they fixed on Josies eyes.

“I’m going to take a guess, stop me at any time. The problem isn’t with either of you two but from Josie’s family.”

Josie began to chew on her thumbnail, Viper was quick to pull it away as the Doctor continued.

“Your parents I will take are very strict people, perhaps even falling in line with deep religious practices but yet despite saying their ‘devout’ they continue to say and do things that go against the basic principles of their religion. Growing up they saw you as either property or a tool to get what they wanted. If you ever raised your voice in defense of yourself…you were either met with Verbal or Physical violence…”

The Doctor paused, fat tears were cascading down Josie’s face. Her breathing was labor, almost choking on some of her deeper breaths. Viper already had his tendrils wrapping around her in a tight embrace, gently whispering into her ear.

[Klink!]

Josie jumped, looking down she found one of the glasses had been filled with water…with a lemon slice in it. She looked up at the Doctor who was pouring a glass for themself.

“Take a sip, it’ll help.”

She…did feel a little parched, Viper handed her the glass, she took a few small gulps. Blinking she looked into the glass…the water tasted sweet, with the lemon slice it almost had the taste of lemonade but without the sharp zing. She noted how the water almost was coating her throat, soothing the burn forming.

“Like it? Its something I made myself for my patients, I boil distilled water and honey together an let it sit overnight in the fridge then add lemon slices to it. The honey and lemon help soothe your throat while the cold water rehydrates you.”

“Its…really good.” Josie smiled taking another sip. “Everything you said…was right, even the religion part. My parents always treated me like I was some show pony at every gathering, they never listened to me an always thought my problems were just…not worth their time.” Josie rubbed a tear away.

Viper remained quiet but nodded when she was done speaking, Dr. Fortune turned to Viper then.

“An the first meeting with her parents they referred to you as a ‘parasite’ and even went so far as to disown Josie from her own family if she didn’t breakup with you.”

Vipers eyes went wide for a moment before slowly closing…his lips curling back, showing off his razor teeth.

He hissed. “Yes, the moment she finished telling them they started calling her all sorts of nasty things and…even went so far as to say they picked out a husband for her to marry. To be honest I actually knew the guy and he…he’s rich but also a huge dick, he was the biggest bully at my high-school back in the day. When Josie refused…they disowned her and kicked us out on the streets…this was around a month ago…”

Dr.Fortune set their glass down, leaned back in the gray chair with their elbows resting on the armrests…fingers pushed together in a pyramid fashion.

“An since then Josie has received texts and phone calls demanding she breakup with you and marry this ‘dick’ all for the sake of money. I’ve seen this before and its a classic case of narcissism but also a show of parental neglect and abuse.” Doctor Fortuned leaned forward, their gaze turning sharp.

“Josie….for starters you are not the problem, your parents are stuck in a mindset that is outdated and unacceptable. You are not to blame for their disappointment, no you never were. Your parents refused to change their ways and therefore are stuck in the past. However that doesn’t mean you have to, in order to help yourself you need to first cut ties with the ‘parasite’ that is your family. Go completely no contact with them, then once thats done I want you to focus on your relationship with Viper.”

Josie blinked, eyes widening. Cut ties with her family?! How could she do that, this was her family!

“Yes I’m aware your not keen on the idea but…let me ask you something. When has your family ever done anything for ‘you’ out of love an ask for nothing in return?” Josie opened her mouth but….nothing came out…she looked through all her memories…but couldn’t find anything.

“Now…I want you to think about what Viper has done for you, who do you think is more deserving of your time an energy? A family that wants you to marry a jerk for money or the symbiote who from the moment he met you has treated you like the human you are?”

Josie sniffled….they were right, ever since they met; Viper had shown her nothing but compassion, patients and love. Sometimes she felt so guilty about putting him through her crap but…he never complained about it. She rubbed her eyes again, it was time to stop waistline her hard earned time and effort on people who didn’t love her! It was time she spent her energy on Viper and school!

Doctor Fortune smiled, the match was struck and the fire was starting to burn. Now it was time to slowly stoke the coals and make sure they never went cold.

“Your right Doctor….I need to stop waiting my time with those people…I’m thankful they gave birth to me but thats no reason to hold it over my head. I’m…I’m done with them!” Josie slapped her knee, it…it felt really good to say that.

Viper could feel the adrenaline pumping in her, yes there it was, the spunky spitfire he fell for was back an with a vengeance!

“Thats good to hear, but thats just the first step in your road to recovery. I want you to take this a step at a time, in time you may learn to ‘forgive’ your family but don’t you ever, EVER forget what they’ve done to you. If you forget then your just gonna end up falling into their grasp again. On another note as a way to help you cope and give you a extra bit of therapy I suggest taking up a type of hobby. Hobbies can help you gain a sense of control over your life.”

The Doctor paused and looked down at their watch. “Oh, it seems we’re just about done with our session. If you’d like to set up another appointment please see the secretary up at the front desk, before you go is there anything you’d like to ask me?”

Viper looked at Josie, she looked right back at him before turning to the Doctor.

“What kind of hobby should I get?”

Doctor Fortune handed them a small brochure. “Try flipping through this and see if any catch your fancy, my suggestion is find a hobby you two can do together or by yourself; its really all up to you an there are no wrong choices.”

An with that…Josie and Viper left, scheduling another appointment two weeks in advance. As they walk outside Josie looked through the brochure, there were so many hobbies to choose from..

At least she and Viper can choose together.

[I plan to do more couples, I did a Symbiote/human couple to start cause everyone is familiar on what they look like thanks to Venom. I’ll be working on more monster like boyfriends in the future. I hope you like this, I’ll be doing more of this in the future including Yandere couples. This was inspired by @semisolidmind artwork, I also wanna thank @sarabat85 for helping me out as well. My next couple will hopefully be posted very soon and was put together by my closest and dearest friend @eomlotanis who has always helped me with story ideas and character development.]

[readinginthereadyroom]

I am very aware of my dean-centric tendencies, but I do have various and sundry headcanons for our boy sam winchester:

sam’s an addict. that doesn’t just go away because he stops drinking demon blood. he craves it all. the. time.

and there’s no 12-step program for this. but he does pop into various anonymous meetings while on the road. sometimes it’s alcoholics, sometimes it’s narcotics—doesn’t really matter, since he can’t tell the whole truth anyway. but being around other people who struggle. who fall off the wagon or don’t. it helps.

it’s also where sam’s healthy habits stem from. running is a natural high and his cravings are always worst first thing in the morning. right after dreaming and before coffee.

he’s not a vegetarian, but if he’s honest with himself he knows he’s headed in that direction. he gave up red meat pretty early on. because the thing about demon blood is it’s, well, blood. smokier. with a hint of sulpher. and all it’s mystical, addictive properties. but still blood.

not that he wants to drink human blood. ew, no. he’s not a vampire. but it is a trigger. esp a rare steak with it’s pan-fried sear... that wisp of ash and smoke and... and he doesn’t eat it anymore. no red meats. no bacon. nothing with that awful artificial smoke flavoring. and oddly, hard-boiled eggs.

also he still has psychic powers. nothing big, like telekinesis or prophetic dreams. nothing really even noticable. dean doesn’t notice. just thinks he has good instincts. knows how to dig a case out of a few headlines and some googling. which, yes. that’s just good research. but it’s also a gut feeling. a knowing. that there’s something there before he backs it up with lore.

he’s pretty sure cas knows. will give him one of those head tilt stares when sam’s not paying attention and his fingers fly over the keyboard. just a little too fast. when his first guess is always right. when he complains about having a bad feeling about a case—and then it goes bad.

cas never says anything tho. sam chalks it up to friendship. but also. it’s kinda cas’ way of acknowledging that sam’s powers, slight as they are, are not a problem. are in their own way normal. well, normal for them. for him. just another facet, like his hair, that makes sam sam.

eileen knows, too. he told her, pretty early on, when things started to become serious between them. told her his whole bloody history. terrified she’d look at him in disgust and walk out the bunker door. and never come back.

he should’ve known better.

she took it in stride. then told him her own secrets. things were amazing after that. they had some hunting wins, sam finished an online certification in database infrastructure he’d been working on, eileen and cas were spending more time in the bunker, and dean had found a vintage part for the impala he’d been searching for since they were teenagers. life was good.

until it wasn’t.

sam had gone out so dean and cas could have a date night in. he’d spent some time at the sports shop buying new running shoes and then popped into the used bookstore to pick up the books he’d ordered. he got back to the bunker late and cas and dean were (thankfully) no where to be found.

but the remnants of their dinner was still on the table. smiling, sam blew out the candles and picked up the dishes to take them to kitchen. he noticed the smell immediately. steak. rare. the kitchen reeked of smoke. he beat a hasty retreat, took a few deep breaths, and went to his room. let dean clean up his own mess in the morning.

it was about 3am when eileen got in. she’d been on a demon hunt with jody and sam had been expecting her. so he just rolled over and let her climb into bed. she threw a bandaged arm over his side, tracing OK onto his back to let him know she was fine, before promptly falling asleep. sam did too.

he woke with a shout. eileen’s side of the bed was empty. his throat felt like he’d swallowed ashes and his nose was clogged with sulpher. he’d been dreaming of ruby. his skin felt two sizes too small. he felt like screaming. or maybe crying. he needed coffee so bad.

wandering to the kitchen he found dean making bacon and eggs, humming under his breath. cas was at the table, reading a book, a giant glass of V8 in his hand.

are you kidding me. sam ran his hands thru his hair a couple of times. tried to center himself before grabbing his favorite mug from the cabinet. the air had a burnt smell to it. his mouth watered.

he almost fell out of his chair when eileen came up behind him for a hug. she was freshly showered. her wet hair smelled faintly like vanilla. it was the dark hair that had startled him. his eyes fixed on the too-red of cas’ drink. smoke and blood and sulpher clawing at his nose.

eileen kept a gentle hand on his bicep, but took a step out of his personal space. dean stopped humming. cas stopped reading. they all stared. his knee started bouncing under the table. he beat a hasty retreat.

eileen found him in the library, staring at his open laptop. she sat in the chair next to him. a silent, calm presense. she knew him too well. knew she could wait him out while he got his thoughts in order. and eventually, he did. just started talking. about the smoky kitchen last night. the way her hair had smelled of sulpher when she returned from her hunt. the dream. then the stupid juice and stupid bacon and how stupid it made him feel. how out of control.

with a nod at all the right places, eileen just sat quietly and let him talk. get it all off his chest. when it was clear he was done she called him a dumbass. scolded him for thinking he could this all his own. you’re problems are my problems, sam. you can’t just tell them to me and think I won’t lift a finger to share them.

and share them she did. hauling sam up from bis chair, eileen dragged him to the kitchen where she proceeded to rip dean and cas new ones for being so insensitive. pointing at the fridge, she made dean clean out all the red meat. upended cas’ drink in the sink and sent him to get some air freshner from the store. then she tossed sam in the shower, while she stripped the sheets of their bed and did the laundry.

he felt better after. still on edge, but better. eileen was sitting on the freshly made bed with his laptop open. she signed while talking. she’d found a narcotics anonymous one town over. I think you need a sponsor. for the bad days. like today.

as usual she was right. sam had been thinking the same for a while. eileen was the shove he needed tho. her love and intensity and fierce protectiveness the balm he needed.

it was still a bad day. but it was a little less bad because he had her at his side. sam leaned over to shut the laptop and snuck a kiss to the side of her lips. then he scooped up her hand to kiss her knuckles. a move guaranteed to make her blush.

she shoved him off the bed. now go for your run sam winchester. he laughed and did as he was told.

[chowtrolls]

Inferno

Length: 2155 Words TW: General Violence, brief mention of drugs. Brief: Boe causes problems for Bruuno. Credits: there's a reference to the Divine Comedy.

Google Docs

Bruuno knew the office building like the back of his hand. Walking in through the back cargo entrance was the easiest way in. The violet guard had basically watched Bruuno grow up and actually smiled as he passed. He towered over the violet at this point but always felt a small connection to the stranger, and made a point of smiling back. The elevator complained loudly when Bruuno stepped inside. The elevator only had twelve buttons. The thirteenth button was disguised as the emergency alarm. It was muscle memory by now, Bruuno held the alarm as it rang for fourty five seconds. The alarm stopped and the elevator started to go up.

It opened into a dimly lit hallway. Expensive art decorated the walls, each painting in the same exact spot as it had been the first time Bruuno walked past them. They always had a way of making him feel small. Chilly air encouraged him to stuff his hands into the pockets of his jacket. The secretary was gone, but the door to Boe's office was unlocked, so Bruuno invited himself inside.

"Hello, Bruuno. Always a treat to see you. How are you? It's been ages." Boe's voice filled the silence immediately. The jade had been waiting, standing in the center of his wide office. He always spoke too much. Despite being spoken to, Bruuno instantly knew something was wrong. There was a deafening silence. More notably, there was no fuchsia wriggler jumping up and bodyslamming him while laughing.

"Where's Shi?" Bruuno turned to the jade with a look of confusion. Boe's relaxed smile planted a seed of worry in the fuchsia's chest. His shoulders lifted slightly in a nonchalant shrug, as if they were discussing the location of a book and not a child.

"She's safe." Boe's voice, smooth as silk and honey, did nothing to ease the growing concern.

"I didn't ask if she was safe." Bruuno stepped closer to Boe, brow furrowed, "I asked where she was."

"And I asked how you were. You've been clean for a while, isn't that nice?" Boe closed the gap between him and his former charge. Bruuno's intimidation attempt went entirely ignored, the jade was seemingly unafraid of anything Bruuno may do. Boe's hands left his pockets so he could straighten the fuchsias' jacket, closing it slightly. "Your little moirails helped with that, right? Awfully sweet of them. You really owe them one."

"I don't owe anyone shit." Bruuno didn't stop Boe from touching him, but made no effort to hide the hostility in his voice. "Boznik, where is Shiloh?"

"Mmm, wrong there buddy. You still owe me." Boe smiled and patted Bruuno's chest, knowingly ignoring the constant pestering over Shiloh. Bruuno's expression must have been blatantly confused once again, because Boe laughed. The jade turned away from the conversation, walking over to his desk. He straightened out some papers as he continued.

"I only let you go because you became a liability. Became sloppy! Messy! Hard to fix your mistakes. You must've thought you were so smart, blaming that pesky little addiction problem on your matesprit. I knew what you were doing, Bru. You're not as clever as you think you are." Boe snickered softly as he spoke. Normally an unprofessional move, but Boe didn't care too much for the formalities when it came to his former charge. "I saw what you did to that other little fish, Klasha's brother. Both arms! Impressive! Ripped them off like they were nothing! Now Bruuno, that is the man I raised." Boe paused and looked up from his desk. Bruuno's silence was deafening as the horror started to sink in.

"I let you have your little fun. I helped you, even. You got to have your fifteen minutes of fame. You seadwellers live for so long...it really was just fifteen minutes out of that ancient lifespan of yours. And be honest with yourself Bru, who do you think helped you get there?" Boe's voice got softer, near a whisper, "I spared your life. I gave you fame. I let you have this glorious little life. And now you have to pay me back."

Each word that left Boe's mouth was a dash of salt on the ever growing wound. Anger started like milk on the stove, it always did. Slowly and slowly heating. One had to keep their eye on the pot every second it was there. It was so easy to just glance away for a moment, but doing so would cause the entire pot to boil over. Bruuno's anger was the same, growing slowly and unchecked until the pot boiled over and the contents burned everything around it.

"I never fuckin' asked you to spare me." Speaking between his teeth did little to hide the venom dripping from his voice. "I would've fuckin' preferred you didn't. But I didn't get a fuckin' say in any of this." Bruuno's fins pressed down flat like a cornered cat's ears.

"Well, that's unfortunate." Boe's smirk faded into an unamused frown. Any normal troll would've thought twice about being alone in a room with such a furious highblood. Boe knew better than anyone how catastrophic highblood rage could be. And yet, he stood before Bruuno, cool as a cucumber, collected as ever. He knew in his heart that Bruuno was a pushover, too soft to cause problems or stir the pot. Boe knew the troll he raised, how could he not?

Just as Boe knew Bruuno would never hurt him, Bruuno knew the jade would never harm Shiloh. There was an unspoken line between them that neither would dare to cross. Shiloh happened to stand directly on that line. Despite his rage, Bruuno knew Shiloh would be fine. She was most likely with Chowow, or Kamuuk, and they just hadn't told him. She certainly hadn't a single clue what was going on. Good, because this wasn't about her. His anger was less about Shiloh, and more the sheer audacity. The gall that Boe possessed to even dream of having that control over Bruuno's life. As the two stared each other down, Boe felt safe. Secure. He was certain that Bruuno would bend to his whim. After all, the fuchsia seemed to bend however someone wanted him to, why would he do any differently to Boe?

Boe's sense of security held Bruuno in his place. He felt small, smaller than he ever had in his entire life, because he knew what Boe thought of him. A passive troll who simply wishes to please everyone, who has no self worth beyond what he can present to others. He had done so much to get to where he was in life. Even if Boe really WAS pulling the strings, Bruuno was happy. He was genuinely happy with his life, the path he was heading down. For the first time in sweeps, Bruuno finally felt like he was healing. He no longer lamented over the torment he caused others, and the days spent awake wondering if karma would present itself with glittery fins once more seemed rare now. The pot of anger had boiled over moments ago, and was starting to burn in Bruuno's chest. One can never remember pain, brains aren't programmed to remember pain, but the raw burning in his lungs was so painstakingly familiar. It was an infection he covered up so well he started to believe it was really gone. An infection he had for so long that he almost felt empty when he covered it that well. Now that the anger fought through the makeshift gauze of happiness, Bruuno realized he missed it, in the same way someone misses a toxic friend or a migraine they had for too long. It had become a piece of him.

Bruuno remembered snippets from working under Boe, but more importantly he remembered how much he hated it. He hurt so many trolls for no reason beyond being told to. He was taught how to hold a gun before he was taught how to write. He learned the best methods of a hidden execution before he learned how to cook. The best took for pulling fingernails, pressure points to incapacitate someone, the direction to aim a weapon so it looked like an accident. From the best cleanup crew to call, to the safest places to dump a body, and the best excuses to tell a drone. Everything Boe taught him centered around pain and violence. Destroy lives and cause destruction for the sake of money and power. Breaking bones and shooting trolls at point blank did nothing but cause anxiety and depression, and created the insecurity that allowed Bubble to seep into his life like a virus. Bruuno was never happy with who he was or what he was doing. Who was Boe to decide if Bruuno got to be happy or not? Only Bruuno could decide that.

And Bruuno decided that he did deserve to be happy. That he didn't deserve this; not from Boe, or Bubble, Carina, the Empire, Shrivo, anyone else. He was worthy of being happy. And he didn't need to make himself valuable to others to be worthy of it.

By the time Bruuno had come to this mental conclusion, Boe had started and nearly finished another cheesy and demented monolog. He strolled right up to Bruuno once more, chattering away while folding some boring origami crane. At the end, he just crumpled the crane up in a dramatic show of power. It was apparent that he thought of himself as some kind of villain, that the hero in this story would do as every hero does. No hero would ever harm the villain, because that'd make them equal and just as evil.

But Bruuno was not Aeneas, nor was he Paul. There was hardly anything heroic about him.

"So, you see my point, Bru? Just a pawn in the game of life. An important pawn to some, sure. But you, too, can be so easily crushed." Boe's smile was sinister, but frankly Bruuno found it annoying. The burning anger had created the desire, no, the need to destroy, to break things.

The fuchsia silently looked at the crumpled paper in Boe's palm. After a moment, he gingerly took the crane from Boe. It was so small in his hand, so fragile, but he still craved to demolish it. Boe's smile returned, obviously pleased that his words stuck with his charge. That was, until Bruuno dropped the crane without a care and instead grabbed onto Boe's robotic wrist with one hand, and the opposite shoulder with his free hand. Without hesitating, Bruuno destroyed. He tore Boe's arm off, just as he had done with Meduza. The prosthetic came off like a breeze, but it was obviously never meant to, permanent prosthetics are so expensive and difficult to replace so they were secured in the socket so neatly. There was nothing neat about it now. Boe's expression was horrified. If he made a sound, Bruuno didn't hear it. All he heard was the crumbling of metal and the tear of flesh. The prosthetic may have been sturdy once but it bent and folded under the pressure of Bruuno's closing fist. The jagged parts of the metal cut his hand but the pain was a welcomed feeling, grounding almost.

The arm dropped unceremoniously to the floor, and Boe did too. Jade started to pool under him and stained his white button down. Boznik tried to prop himself up and move away, but was pushed back down by Bruuno's foot.

The weight of an 8 foot fuchsia on his chest was nothing compared to the weight of the trauma that hovers over Bruuno's heart constantly.

"How's that fer the man you raised? Still like 'im?" Bruuno's expression was deadpan as he spoke, with just enough weight on Boe's chest to hurt. "A real fuckin' asshole, ain't he? Takes after his lusus. Y'know how it is. Like lusus like son, eh?" A bitter laugh escaped, and only grew louder as more pressure was applied. Bruuno heard and felt a couple cracks, the pain being confirmed by Boe's strangled gasp of pain.

Boe was no stranger to pain, but the crushing weight on his chest and white hot burning from his arm had him fading in and out. Breathing was difficult, but not impossible, and was instantly better as Bruuno got off his former lusus.

"I hope we both rot, ya daft fuckin' jackass. Don't try this shit again." Bruuno wasn't certain if Boe even heard him, but he felt better saying it out loud.

He made sure to hit the emergency alarm on Boe's desk before he left out the way he came. The violet security guard was still at his post by the cargo entrance. The radio on his vest was going off with frantic chatter as Bruuno passed him.

He made sure to smile on his way out.

[professormembranexreader]

Yandere!Membrane x Fem!Reader pt. 2 (Angst & Gore)

RECAP

——————————————————

Membrane kinda stalked you, memorized your entire resume, smelled the smelly smell on the resume that was smelly, and is now going to be your boss but you don't know the bad stuff

Membrane's POV:

It was her first day at work. Being honest, it caught me off guard when I saw (Y/N) at the entrance waiting for me. 'Oh, right. She has no clue where she's going.'

"Good morning, sir!" She smiled. Her joy was infectious; I couldn't help but crack a small grin under my collar.

"Good morning to you as well, (Y/N). How do you feel about your first day?" I started off casual. There was no way I was going to let her think I was 'weird' or 'murderous'. No, that would never do. I need her to be my secretary. I need her to be in my life. I need her to love me.

She spoke up, interrupting me and my thoughts. "Well, sir, I'm kinda scared. I don't know anything regarding what you expect me to do. I don't know how to do most of the things here either. Much less any of the people I'll be working with..."

I held her face with my hand. "Don't worry, (Y/N). I'll help you. Siempre." She looked at me, confused. I realized I got too close.

I cleared my throat, promptly removing my hand. "I'm sorry, (Y/N), that was highly unprofessional of me. Please pay no mind to that." She looked up at me, confused, but shrugged it off.

"Uh, whatever you say, sir." I unlocked the entrance to the facility and motioned for her to follow me. The loud thud of boots followed by the clicking of heels (can be short heel and prob will be) echoed through the vacant halls. None of the lights were turned on yet, leaving her to closely follow behind. I could faintly feel her breath on my back. I grinned as I lead the way to my office. She was going to be mine. All mine.

Along the way, I explained the basics of what she'd be doing. Organizing files, managing my schedule, et cetera. She nodded occasionally, and tried to make small talk... it didn't work too well for her. Luckily though, I had managed to save the conversation by asking her about her life. I already knew most of the information she told me, but there were a few things that surprised me.

Finally we were there. I helped her get familiar with her desk, showing her how to navigate the software, when it suddenly came time for work.

"Oh, it seems that we are out of time. Just page me if you need anything. Hasta luego, querida." I rushed down to my lab and started to gather notebooks. I needed to plan for my next invention. I rushed back up, avoiding the rush of workers who assembled the most demanded products. She winked at me as I entered the room.

She was seated near my office, separated by just a wall. I installed a one-way mirror so I could always watch her. It was covered by a tapestry which could easily be pushed aside. I had nothing to truly do, so I spent time watching her. Her hair was so pretty. Dios, I'd love to inhale the scent of her hairspray. I've stolen a few bottles, but they have nothing to truly cling to.

While I wished to be closer, this could do until I take her for myself. Of course it didn't take but a few days for plans to change.

I kept staring at her, smiling under my collar, but it soon started to turn into a frown. One of my most bothersome employees, Carter (sorry to both this and all other Carters), walked up to (Y/N)'s desk. I've been looking for an excuse to fire him for so long, but it seemed as though he knew my game. He always made sure to avoid the punishment.

But there was no way he would worm his way out this time. He leaned over her desk, talking. She seemed a bit uncomfortable, but he didn't seem to notice. He reached his hand over to her face and my blood boiled. It took every ounce of his self control to not punch through the glass and choke him then and there.

I stood up and walked closer to the one-way mirror. He sat on the desk and gave her a slip of paper. She blushed and told him something. He got off the desk and took her hand, kissing it before walking off.

I threw down the tapestry, covering the glass once more. I clenched my fists and started to grind my teeth. There was no way I would let him get away with that. I stewed in my anger until the time came for the work day to end.

(Y/N) knocked on my door before gently opening it. "Professor?" All anger was repressed when I saw (Y/N)'s face.

"Yes, (Y/N)?" A calming baritone voice resounded through the room. (Y/N) smiled and asked if I would walk her home. I nodded. There was no way I would ever let her go home completely alone from this point on. I took her hand and led her out of the office. A faint pink dusted her cheeks but she made no comment.

We walked down the city streets, looking at food and clothes through the windows. We talked about simpler things... simpler times...

Soon, we were at her apartment. It wasn't much, but to (Y/N) it was home. She won't have to worry about this disgusting hut when she's with me. I made no comment, but simply watched as she left my side.

"Thank you, Professor. Goodnight!" I saw her go inside before returning to my own home.

My sleep was restless that night. I tossed and turned relentlessly. Not even the thought of (Y/N) bending to my will, fully submitting to me helped. My mind was plagued with the thought of Carter (lmao forgot his name already and had to go look). The thought of him touching her, talking to her, looking at her! It filled me with indescribable emotions I couldn't quite name. I needed to rid myself of this. I needed to get rid of the problem.

I needed to get rid of him.

The next morning was roughly the same. I saw (Y/N) walk in and my heart fluttered. The hours dragged on before I decided to call him into my office.

"(Y/N), send Carter Hughes (sorry to all Carter Hughes' out there) to my office." She nodded and quickly paged him up. I waited in my office, gathering my self control to not rip him to shreds. If he wasn't here, he couldn't bother (Y/N). He couldn't bother (Y/N).

He walked into my office. He looked smug. I grimaced under my collar. "I think we both know why you're here, Mr. Hughes." His smile grew even larger.

"No, I'm not quite sure." This little weasel.

"Mr. Hughes, you are being fired from our company." I stated blankly.

"You have no reason to." He grinned. I wanted this to be simple-hacking off a small branch with an axe. But it seems that I'm cutting down the whole limb.

I planted my hands on the desk in front of me, raising my voice. "You have been harassing your coworkers and have been absent from almost all your work. With your record, it's surprising you stayed here this long." I handed him a pink slip. His face paled. "I suggest you pack your things in the morning, Carter. It's getting late. Wouldn't want you to go home in the dark." He gulped and nodded. The night passed. I felt accomplished. He was finally gone. Finally.

The next work day, Carter passed by (Y/N)'s desk. He was carrying a small cardboard box. (Y/N) asked something, then Carter laughed. He said something in return, but I couldn't tell you the words, but it'd made (Y/N) blush. He winked at strode his way out of the room.

My mind was fixed on the thought of what happened. How could I be so foolish as to let the problem remain? The only solution was to nip it in the bud. The only solution was to end it before it could cause any more trouble. There is no way to let him keep his life. And I intend to fix that.

I scanned through the files for employee information. "Harrington, Henson, Hepburn, Hill, Hinton, Hiragina, Holon, ah! Hughes." I wrote down the address and started packing up.

I dropped my work down on my desk at home. I grabbed some rope, chloroform, and put a fake license plate on my car just in case. I drove down to his apartment with a smile on my face. The problem will finally be gone. I creeped inside and found his bedroom. He really should lock his door—then again, he won't have to worry about that now. I put my hand against his throat, covering his mouth and nose with a chloroform soaked bandage. With the combined effort, he was unconscious in less than a minute. I flung him over my shoulder and threw him into the trunk. The sadistic grin never left my face.

I pulled up to my driveway, grabbed the bounty I'd brought home, and carried it down to my lab.

I didn't have long before he woke up, so I put restraints as my top priority. I set him down on my strongest operating table and cuffed his arms and legs to it. I began to quickly gather my tools.

Gore Warning Time (=◉ ◡ ◉=)

I filled the needle with Pancuronium, a muscle paralyzer. His eyes widened as he fought further against the restraints. I couldn't help but let out a little chuckle. It's just so useless. I set the needle down and stuck a tube down his throat. Hooking that tube to one of of the various machines in my lab, I turned to him.

"Take it easy!" I shrugged as I turned away, "I'd say to take a breath and relax, but it seems that you won't have a choice."

He fought against the restraints vigorously. A worthless action, really. I hooked him up to the ECMO in my lab. Now he'll truly experience what happens to anyone who talks to my (Y/N).

After that, the wait was over. I placed the needle into his skin as the chemical was slowly inserted. I smiled as his shaking body stopped fighting.

My scalpel found itself close against the man's skin. I pressed it lightly against him; beads of crimson came bubbling up to the surface.

"Let's get serious." I quickly sliced the skin from his clavicle to his pelvis. Blood surged up, trying to clot. Around the rib cage, another incision was made perpendicular to the first. The process was repeated on his abdomen. Blood began to drip down his sides. I smiled as I began to open his skin. It was like that of freshly killed game. Tissue that once clung together separated at the slightest touch.

I carved him as if he were a Thanksgiving turkey. His insides lay facing the ceiling lights. With an additional snap of my gloves, I poised my hands over his organs.

"Hmm, let's begin to look for where your god failed you."

꧁ᴛɪᴍᴇ sᴋɪᴘ꧂

"This, right here, is your left kidney. Whoops! There goes the last of yours. Let's see what else is here..."

"Ah, yes. Would you like to see your large intestine?" I had my hands full of his guts. "Or perhaps the predecessor?" The salmon-pink muscle was wound between my fingers. With a small tug, blood sprayed onto my uniform. I tossed the glob of guts aside and once again grabbed my scalpel.

"Let's see if you can stomach this." I cut open the lining, acid pouring out. A corrosive hisss echoed while the body digested itself.

I laughed. Not at the pun—that was terrible. I had been fantasizing about this moment ever since (Y/N) saw him. And like I planned, I crept further up his insides. I slowly broke rib from rib, going in depth with a medial explanation each time one was removed. If ribs don't grow back then he surely won't live to see the end of it.

"Here we are." I pushed my gloved hand into his chest. "No no no, this shouldn't be! You don't deserve this." My hand gently squeezed around the muscle. "I'll make sure to give this back to the owner." Red flushed the room. A low, continuous beep echoed through the walls.

It's done.

——-————————————————

I walked to (Y/N) as she headed out of her office at work. I held her shoulder, causing her to pivot on her foot, now facing me.

"Oh, uh... hi, Professor. Did you need me?"

"(Y/N), I'd like to show you some paperwork at home. I need it put into the system, but... I forgot to bring it with me." I took a deep breath. "The files are very complex, so I'd need to show you how to deal with them. Would you mind stopping by?" She quickly shook her head.

I smiled. "Then follow me." I opened the car door. With a few clicks, (Y/N) was in my car. She was in my car. I turned on the radio to fill the silence.

Glancing to my side, I saw (Y/N) staring out the window. Her hair gently swayed, bouncing with each hole the tires hit. She hummed along with the singer, softly singing the parts that she knew. Her words were breathy, almost afraid to be heard. But they were music to my ears. 'Focus, Miguel,' I thought.

The song continued to play as I drove home. When we got there, I unlocked the back door.

"Kids, go to your rooms!" My voice slightly echoed through the halls. I took (Y/N) by the hand. "Follow me."

I lead her to a wall. It was in the darkest corner of the living room. Hidden amongst the shadows was a copper plate.

"Ah, mierda." I took off my goggles and handed them to (Y/N). "¿Agarras mi gafas, por favor?"

She took them slowly, staring at me as the scanner checked my retinas. The door opened with a clunk.

I gestured towards the "After you." She took a few hesitant steps before looking to me for guidance. I chuckled before letting her lean on me. We descended down the staircase until we reached my lab.

She immediately went over to my bookshelf. I smiled as I locked the door behind us.

"(Y/N)." She whipped her hair around to face me.

"Yes, Professor?" I bit my lip. Hers were slightly parted, giving her face a blissful look.

"Come sit down." She did as I instructed. "Now, what I'm about to do may pinch." I held her down as I injected a small amount of morphine into her femoral artery. After a bit of struggle, she fell limp in my arms.

(Y/N)'s POV

I woke up to the sound of footsteps. I lifted my head and tried to look around. Why was I in a chair? And why can't I move my arms? My mind raced as I began to struggle against my restraints.

"Ah, finalmente estás despierta." An unmistakable baritone rang out. Was Membrane going to save me?

He came into view, goggles and lab coat off. His arms were prosthetics. Presumably steel or an alloy containing it. His eyes were chocolate with hazel flecks. But more importantly, his pupils were extremely dilated. I tried to call out for him, but all that came out was a muffled "mfph".

"No tan rápido, mi querida. Tú eres mía. Solamente mío." His cold "hand" traces my cheek. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes.

"MPMFPH!"

"Ah, tú quieres hablar. Pues, adelante." He ripped off whatever was covering my mouth. I gasped for air. The air tasted like latex and antiseptics. I looked up towards Professor.

"Did...did you do this to me, sir?" I stammered. His eyebrow arched as he placed a hand on his chin.

"Ah, inglés. Un momento." He cleared his throat. "Is this better, my (Y/N)?"

I couldn't believe it. "Answer the question!"

"Ay, mi amor, I had no choice. I couldn't risk anyone else getting close to you." His hands found themselves on my shoulders, slowly moving up to my neck.

"Get your hands off of me!" He quickly pulled back. He walked behind me, making it impossible for me to truly see him.

His once endearing laugh now plagued my ears. "My dear, sweet, (Y/N), don't be that way~! You and I are one now. You are mine. And I've brought you a present."

He walked past his desk, digging through his belongings. After a few moments, he returned.

"My dear (Y/N), May I present to you..." he reached behind his back and pulled out a bloodied jar. Looking carefully, there's... oh my god. Inside the jar was-

"Hughes' heart. He said it belonged to you, I figured he wouldn't mind if you reclaimed it." He smiled, teeth filling half his face as his merriment was finally shown. He set the jar down, took me out of the restraints, and held me in his arms. I was too numb to fight back. I sobbed into his chest.

Membrane wrapped his arms around my relatively small frame. "Shhhh. It's going to be okay. He would have wanted it this way."

"Okay."

[rosecorcoranwrites]

Klaus, El Dorado, and The Liar Revealed

Mediocrity vs. Cliches

Around this time last year, when we were young, innocent, and oblivious of the horrors of 2020, people in internet circles were loosing their minds over a movie called Klaus. You have probably never heard of it, but if you had, it would have been by stumbling across it on Netflix or from hearing a YouTube reviewer singing it's praises.

The main reason people loved it was that it was traditionally animated. In fact, it's director, Sergio Pablos, worked on several Disney Renaissance films, and it shows. The animation is gorgeous. The character designs are stylized and unique. What I found the most pleasing was the color palette, which I would describe as pastel watercolor. The film is set in the Far North, and the dour scenes feel cold and depressing while the heartfelt scenes look warm and cozy. The film was a visual delight.

The story? Eh, it was ok.

The reviewers I watched tended to focus on the beautiful return-to-form animation that we rarely see in the days of 3-D animated films while not noticing, or ignoring, that the story was kind of blah. It was a typical "rich-kid-layabout will get cutoff if he doesn't prove himself", with a heaping helping of "The Liar Revealed", which is one of the most annoying tropes in the history of narrative, but we'll get to that later. There's also a subplot that's basically the Hatfields and McCoys, and a randomly villainous matriarch who decides to keep being the villain because... conflict, I guess? Sure, there were a few original ideas—mostly involving Klaus's wife and the couple's struggle with having children—but overall nothing to write home about. The "feelsy" moments were unearned; I felt nothing.

Now, you'll notice that in the previous paragraph, I described many cliches, but I would not describe Klaus as cliche. I would describe it as mediocre. As I said, it was an ok story, but only ok. The problem was that it took its cliches and painted by numbers, which is why it could never rise above mediocrity. A film that knows how to play with cliches—not even necessarily subverting them, but just getting creative with them—can rise to greater heights.

Cliches as Genre: Road to El Dorado

Let's look at another gorgeously 2-D animated film: The Road to El Dorado. This film, too, is rife with cliches: Europeans being mistaken for gods by a non-western civilization, a witch doctor (basically), going native, the Leyenda Negra, and so on. It also features the cliche of two scoundrels going on what is basically a buddy-comedy adventure. The thing about many of these cliches is that they are part of the genre. That genre is as general as "Adventure fiction", where it's not unusual to encounter witch doctors and native tribes and such, and as precise as "Road to" comedies of Bob Hope and Bing Crosby, which El Dorado is unarguably a pastiche of. Simply read the "running gags" section about these films on Wikipedia and you have a blueprint for El Dorado.

And that's the point. El Dorado follows a number of cliches because those are staples of its genre. Cliches, contrary to popular opinion, are not only not an automatic flaw in, but are often essential to, a work, especially when those cliches are what make a story a recognizable example of the genre in question.

El Dorado, however, plays with it's cliches. Most notably, it portrays the natives as normal human beings, which, lets be honest, a lot of old-timey adventure fiction didn't do. Miguel, one of the two main characters, sees the beauty of the culture he and Tulio, the other lead, find themselves in. The "white men mistaken for gods" trope is also played with in that the chief of the tribe figures out rather quickly (or possibly always knew) that Miguel and Tulio are just normal men like himself.

Thankfully, the film never strays into noble-savage territory, which lesser stories stumble into in their attempt to make up for the racism of the past. The natives have personalities, flaws, and vices. Chel, the female lead, is a floozy and a thief who happily joins the con that Miguel and Tulio are pulling, which she sees through immediately. Tzekel-Kan, a priest of a human-sacrifice-loving religion, is not only a zealot, but also a murderer, in that he sacrifices his own assistant to summon up a Jaguar spirit to hunt down the two false gods (yeah, that happens. Seriously, if you haven't seen this movie, you're missing out!). The characters, both white and POC, are fleshed out and three dimensional.

Finally, there is the story itself, and it's conclusion. Let's compare it to Klaus.

Conclusions

For those who never saw it, Klaus ends with a Liar Revealed scene where the scheme of the main character, Jesper, is revealed, and all his friends frown at him despite him obviously having changed by that point. Then a chase scene happens so Jesper can prove he's really changed, then a reveal that there was no good reason for the chase scene to have happened, then the main character is forgiven for his honestly-not-that-bad previous lies.

The whole story boils down to rich-kid learns a lesson and opens his heart, giving up his richness for the true treasure of generosity. Unfortunately, a lot of that was derailed by the weird Hatfields-McCoys subplot, which felt cartoonish next to the heartfelt-ness the rest of the film was trying (and maybe failing...) to achieve. It felt forced, in that the film needed that subplot so the chase could happen, and they only needed that so the Liar Revealed could make up for his Revealed Lies. Bleh.

El Dorado was more organic. Miguel and Tulio, by the last third of the film, have grudgingly decided to go their separate ways, with Miguel deciding to stay in El Dorado (the city), which he has fallen in love with, and Tulio and Chel going off with a shipful of gold that they presumably sail back to Spain ("And buy Spain!"). These are not happy conclusions, as it means a break in their inseparable friendship.

But then, Cortez, the Big Bad, shows up! Note, unlike the Hatfield-McCoys in Klaus, he is introduced in the beginning of the film as an actual threat, and has an understandable goal: conquest and gold. Miguel and Tulio, knowing this, decide he has to be stopped. That's when Tulio—the objectively more greedy, in-it-for-himself, not-gone-native of the pair—realizes that the only way to save the city is to crash his boat into the columns at the city entrance. It's a good plan, but will mean that he has to sacrifice what he wants: gold. But he makes the sacrifice, because he has become more that just a guy lying about being a god for money.

But then the boat isn't going to make it fast enough because the sail is stuck! It's gonna crash, and not in the way they wanted! Miguel, who had fallen in love with El Dorado and was willing to part ways with his friend and treasure to stay there, as to ride out on his horse and jump onto the mast to unfurl the sail. He knows the ship will then whoosh towards the columns and the only entrance to his beloved city with be destroyed, stopping Cortez, but also blocking him from the city forever. But he makes the sacrifice, because he cares enough about the people in El Dorado to let them go, and enough about his friend to not let him smack into the columns and die.

The Liar Revealed: Why It's Bad

Those were the conclusions to each movie, but not the conclusion to this blog. We still haven't discussed why the liar revealed is so lame, and how to fix it.

First, what is it? Basically, Main Character lies about something—his motives, his identity, etc.—for a large chunk of the story, then somewhere around the third act, his lie is revealed! Usually, this means that all the other characters turn their back on him, literally and figuratively, because they can't imagine how he could do something so terrible. Then, he does something to prove his mettle and his heart, and then everyone forgives him.

And I hate it. I hate it for three particular reasons.

First, it is just a different version of the thing that happens in romcoms where the main couple should declare their love for each other, but because the writer wouldn't know what to do at that point, they introduce a stupid misunderstanding that could be cleared up in two seconds if the leads talked like grown-ups. The Liar Revealed is that stupid, tired trope, but for kids.

Second, the lie is sometimes understandable, or not even that bad. In Klaus, Jesper claimed to be trying to spread hope and good cheer by sending kids presents, but in reality, he was trying to rack up the number of packages/letters he sent to prove to his dad he wasn't a useless layabout. How... despicable? Is it though? And can't he do both? He literally did, and he could have said so, except that the movie pulled a romcom and he got seperated from his friends before being able to explain that it started out mercenary and then quickly grew into the real deal. Even if it hadn't, though, like... is wanting to prove that your not a gutless layabout a bad thing? I don't get it.

Third is when the lie might be bad, but it's too late to care. In A Bug's Life, the colony learns that the so called warriors that Flik brought them are actually circus performers, so they have a reason to be miffed. Then again, they learn this on the eave of the day the grasshoppers will come to murder them all, and as Flik says, his bird doohickey will work. Not only does the colony have no reason to doubt this, they have no better options. Get all frowny and turn your backs on him after you lose the battle tomorrow, cause you have no time for such romcom drama tonight.

The Liar Revealed: When It's Good

Now, just because the Liar Revealed is awful doesn't mean that we can't keep having liars who eventually prove that they've changed in our fiction. But we don't have to follow the same tired trope.

For example, Over the Hedge has the Liar of RJ the Raccoon be Revealed, but saves the fallout between him and the other animals for a later action sequence, with hilarious results. Watch Schaffrillas Productions's video “Why Over the Hedge is Surprisingly Good” for a more detailed explanation of how this trope is dealt with in this film.

Or we have Tangled, where Eugene, by rights, should follow the Liar Revealed trajectory. He starts off scruffy and selfish, then slowly falls for Rapunzel and her good and pure outlook on life. He goes to give the Stabbington brothers the swiped crown that he no longer desires, but gets conked on the head by Gothel, who tells Rapunzel that he left with it cause he was just using her. We have a misunderstanding; we have a Rapunzel sadly walking away from the "liar"; we have the trappings of the last act of a romcom. But then, the real liar is revealed: Mother Gothel! And as soon as Rapunzel knows this, she never doubts Eugene, because that would be boring and nonsensical.

Finally, we have Road to El Dorado, with two liars, Miguel and Tulio, who are pretending to be gods to get wealth and adventure. They change over the course of the film to care about something more. They prove this change in a climactic scene We have all of the Liar Revealed, except for the reveal. There is no scene where everyone in the city frown and turns their backs, because that's not needed. The story isn't about the characters earning the forgiveness of the community like in Klaus, or proving themselves like in A Bug's Life. It's about two dudes who are scoundrelly friends going on an adventure, becoming a little less scoundrelly, and remaining friends. In the end, they both gave up what they wanted, but that's ok, because they have each other. Is it cliche? You bet! But that's way better than being mediocre.

[writingsbychlo]

guilty pleasures | thomas

word count; 7902

summary; thomas is still reeling over his break up, before meeting newt’s new roommate, and his perspective changes entirely.

notes; ha, enjoy. very little plot here. pretty much just an emotional mess for Tommy. bit of an AU because, y’know, why not? 

warnings; smut.

He couldn’t help the frown on his features. It had been permanently embedded there for two weeks now. His eyes were still slightly sore from the times he had spent rubbing at them aimlessly as he cried, but today, the frown was more out of anger and confusion.

Anger, irrationally, at Newt for not being at his house when Thomas needed him to be. he knew it was stupid of him to be angry at his friend. He was probably running errands or helping his sister move out and in with her girlfriend, as he had been doing for the past few days, but Thomas hadn’t exactly been in a rational place since Teresa had left him. He was confused because the girl had broken up with him out of nowhere, a three-year relationship thrown away because she had decided she just wasn’t feeling a spark anymore, and she was tired of trying. 

She’d packed up all her belongings before Thomas had even gotten home that day, leaving his apartment bare of half the things that were usually in it, and making him feel more alone than ever. She hadn’t spoken to him since that day, and while they hadn’t argued or screamed at each other, a fairly placid break-up, to be fair, she had quickly cut herself off from his life. 

Now, however, she was texting him, and telling him she wanted to look through some of the things they had bought together and see if any of them mattered to her. She could have them, for all Thomas cared. He didn’t want to look at them, he didn’t want them anywhere near him. He hated most of the crap that had been boxed up anyway, he’d only bought it to make Teresa happy, but the only problem was, he didn’t have it anymore. 

After the breakup, Newt had arrived with a cardboard box and gone through his apartment with a ‘fine-tooth comb’, removing any and everything that might remind him of the girl who had walked out on him. The box was sat at Newt’s house, behind the locked door, and Thomas needed it back, while the anger inside him still gave him the confidence to actually go to her place and face her.

With a sigh, he decided fuck it, he would just let himself in, grab the box real quick, and be on his way. Using his foot to push over the ridiculously ugly gnome that sat by the front door, a small silver key was revealed to him, and he swiped it from its position on the stone quickly. Pushing the metal into the lock, he twisted, the door clicking open for him and he replaced the key under the ceramic figure, standing it back up before entering the house.

Pushing the door shut softly behind himself, he was barely three feet into the home before hushed tinkering in the kitchen sounded out, and his eyebrows furrowed. Newt clearly wasn’t home, his car was gone, and Sonya had been moving in with her girlfriend, most likely was Newt wasn’t here in the first place, and so Thomas had expected it to be empty.

Stepping closer to the source of the sound, he peeked into the kitchen, surprised at your figure occupying the space. His eyebrows remained furrowed as he took you in, hair pulled back into a loose ponytail, missed chunks falling around your face and tucked behind your ears. A massively oversized shirt hung from your shoulders, practically falling over the edge of one of them as it almost swamped the shorts you wore underneath it.

Turning to face him, his cheeks reddened as your scream snapped him from his curious staring, his gaze leaving your legs to fly back up to meet your eyes. Your hand was clutched to your chest, dry sticks of pasta from the now half-filled bag of spaghetti in your hands were rolling across the floor from where you had jumped in shock, and the frown that had momentarily disappeared from his lips while looking at you was back, guilt crawling in his stomach. 

“Jesus, you scared the life out of me.” You mumbled, placing your spaghetti packet down on the side and using your foot to nudge some of the dropped and useless pieces into a pile on the floor. “Thomas, right?”

“Uh.. yeah?”

“Newt has been telling all about you guys. It wasn’t hard to put it together. Plus, there are pictures of you guys everywhere.” He continued to stare at you sceptically, licking his lips as he took a few steps closer to you. “I’m (Y/N), Newt’s new roommate. Well, housemate.” Leaning over the counter in the middle of the kitchen, you offered your hand to him, and he took it, shaking it gently.

“I’m Thomas, but you already knew that.” Finally, a smile cracked through on his features, only a small one, and it didn’t reach his eyes, which were still full of sadness, but it was something. Placing the spaghetti you still had into the pot of boiling water you had prepared, he watched you silently as you busied yourself around the kitchen. It wasn’t until you’d cleaned up the spilt pasta and disposed of it, while he stood in the same spot without speaking, that you faced him again.

“So, what exactly are you here for? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Oh! Of course, my bad. Um.. well- my, um.. my ex. There’s a box of things that Newt took from my apartment when she left me, but she keeps texting me, and she wants them.” He ran a hand through his hair, hands coming up to rub at his eyes as he sighed angrily. “Like, I don’t want them! I only bought them to make her happy, but why didn’t she just take them when she left if she wants them that bad? Is she trying to torture me?”

Pulling open the door of the fridge, you plucked two glass bottles from inside, popping the caps off of both of them and placing one down on the counter before the man. Glancing at the beer you had placed out, he let his lips tug up in the smallest of smiles at the notion, taking the cold glass between his fingers and raising it to his lips as he sat down. 

The silence hung between you both again, and you stirred at the softening pasta gently, before turning your back to him and leaning against the counter beside you. Glancing up from his perch at the island in the centre of the room, his eyes scanned over you once again, shamelessly, before coming up to meet your eyes.

“You can talk to me if you want. It sorta’ seems like you need to talk it out, for your own sake, to understand it all, and I’m here to listen. If you want me to.” You shrugged off the way his eyebrows rose at the offer, instead choosing to busy yourself with your cooking once again. The second his mouth opened, he couldn’t stop the words that were flowing out. He spoke about her before they were dating when they first met in high school. He told you the story of their relationship, all the times they broke up and got back together a day later, and the way they fought, and all the happy moments that fixed them.

By the time you were placing a plate of pasta out in front of him, his cheeks were wet, eyes red, and he was all talked out. Taking a seat across from him, you merely nodded at his mumbled thank you, as he picked up the fork quickly and began to tuck into the food, clearly hungry. “You want my honest opinion, Thomas?” He looked up at you, nodding and taking a sip of his beer as he did. Twirling your pasta around your work, the metal scraped lightly against the ceramic, before the tips of his fingers brushed the back of your hand gently, stilling your movements entirely.

“I can take it, tell me what you think about it all.”

“I.. I think it was doomed from the beginning. You never had time for one another, and ask yourself honestly, did you ever really connect on anything? Or, perhaps you were just trying to make something work, that only started out based on idle fascination in college.” Your words hung heavily in the air, and he swallowed his food thickly, the only sounds filling the room for a few minutes is that of cutlery scraping against plates, and the occasional clink of beer bottled meeting the marble counter as you took a sip of your drinks. “I’m sorry, I-”

“No, don’t be. It was harsh, but it was the truth, and I think I needed it. You were right, and I think I always knew we wouldn’t make it, but it still hurts, you know?” 

You did know, you’d had your fair share of bad breakups, unrequited feelings, the whole bunch. He finished his meal, clearing both of your plates away quietly into the dishwasher once you had finished, helping himself to another beer from the fridge as you moved about the kitchen together in easy harmony. 

“You know what always makes me feel better?” You eventually filled the quiet, and his eyes found yours curiously, brows raised. “Getting super drunk and playing video games.” As you said that, his face cracked out in a wide grin, eyes lighting up at the thought. 

“Now that’s an idea I can get behind.”

With a cheeky grin, you cheered happily, leaning up to the top cabinet and pulling the bottle of amber liquid from the top shelf, shaking the half-full bottle side to side. He held his hand up in the air, palm open to you and you swung your hand up to meet his in a high-five. The sounds echoed around the room loudly as you giggled, skipping through to the living room and dropping yourself down onto the couch. 

Unscrewing the cap of the drink, the spicy smell filled the air, and you watched as he darted around the TV in front of you, switching on the console and grabbing two controllers before taking a seat beside you. Holding the bottle out to him, you shook it slightly. 

“The broken-hearted can have the first drink.” With a lopsided grin, he took the bottle from you, raising it to his lips. Latching your fingers underneath, you tipped the bottle upwards, a chuckle leaving his lips as a drip of the liquid ran along his chin. 

“You’re trying to get me drunk.” He teased, wiping at his chin with the back of his hand and you shrugged, setting up the first game that the two of you would be playing. The rim of the bottle pressed against your lips, and you chuckled, turning to look at him as you parted your lips, letting him tip the bottle back as the spirit burned at your throat. “I refuse to be the only drunk one. You’ll have an edge on me at Mario Kart.” 

He winked at you as you shook your head, eyes squeezed shut as your throat burned from the drink. “I’m going to have an edge on you anyway, I’m amazing at this game.” You teased, and he gasped falsely, clutching his chest as he considered your words. Tucking your legs underneath yourself, you ignored the way his gaze flickered from your eyes to the way the large top you wore covered the shorts that had ridden up your thighs, your legs almost entirely exposed to him. 

“I’m taking that as a challenge. Loser of each game has to drink.” He offered, and placed the bottle between the two of you on the coffee table sat before you. Holding out his hand, all fingers other than the pink were closed, that lone finger pointing out in your direction. 

Locking your own pinkie with his, you shook tightly, a cheeky grin on your lips as you loaded up the first game. “Deal.”

You had lost count of how many games you had each won and lost. The tequila had run out a long time ago, and glass bottles were scattered around the living room. His head was across your lap, your fingers weaved into his hair as you laughed loudly, pure joy filling the room as he recounted many stories that only seemed to get more and more entertaining. His shoulders were light, the weight lifted from them finally as he relaxed into your grip even more.

Your head was tipped back, and you were wheezing, trying to pull breath into your lungs as you could not stop yourself from laughing, his chuckles ringing loudly in your ears as he continued to tell you the story that had you cracking up. He paused, sitting up to simply watch you in all your joy and your hand fell from his hair, a pout forming on his lips.

His fingers wrapped around your hand, your eyes opening to look at him as he pressed a kiss to your open palm, before weaving your fingers back into his hair. You swallowed thickly, your cheeks aching from all the grinning but the tension between the two of you was thicker now. 

Your eyes were locked together, the faint music of a Wii console playing in the background and his fingertips dragged along your skin slowly, your hand tightening in his hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp. 

He was shuffling closer to you, with every movement, his eyes never leaving yours but you could watch them darken the closer he got. One of his hands was now cupping your cheek, the other squeezing at the bare skin of your thigh roughly, fingers pressing into the skin in a grip that sent shivers along your spine. 

Your breaths were mixing now, and when he let his tongue poke out to wet at his lips, the tip licked along your bottom one slowly. Millimetres apart, you could practically taste him already, and your blood was pounding, heart thumping against your ribs. You wanted to close the gap, it was a bad idea, but you were the queen of bad ideas, you were drunk, and it would be such a deliciously guilty pleasure to indulge in.

Before you could allow yourself to make the decision, the house phone hung up on the wall blared loudly through the room, jumping in place, you scrambled to get up, the air around you feeling cold as the close proximity you had held was ripped away by your fleeing. As it reached its fourth ring, you picked it up, shaky hands bring the device to your ear as you cleared your throat. 

The voice on the other end began to speak immediately, and you listened carefully to what they were saying, bracing yourself on the wall as you swayed slightly, your mind still fuzzy from all the alcohol you had consumed. Placing the phone back on the wall, you turned to face Thomas, who had stood up from the couch, his eyes fixed on you as he took slow steps in your direction. 

“Who was it?”

“It was Newt. He isn’t coming back tonight, he had a few drinks at Sonya and Harriet’s, and he shouldn’t drive. He said he’ll be back tomorrow.” Your words were basically whispered, but he heard them perfectly as he closed in on you. His hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb running over your lips as the other found your hip. Backing you up, your back met the wall, the breath leaving your lungs in a shocked huff, his nose nudging against yours.

“So, you’re saying we’re going to be alone all night?” His face morphed into a sly grin as he backed away, enough to look you in the eyes, and you took your lip between your teeth, his gaze immediately honing in on the action. 

“Thomas.. we shouldn’t. You only just got out of a relationship.”

“Three weeks ago.” He murmured, voice low and his body came to rest up against yours, bodies pressed flat together and a low moan slipped from your lips as that comforting heat found your body again, and he let out a deep chuckle at the sound.

“You’ll feel differently in the morning. You’ll regret it. I’m not taking the blame because you needed a rebound fuck, you can’t put that guilt on me.” You whispered, and he nodded slowly, his head dipping down as his lips brushed against yours, barely giving you enough to get even a hint of a taste, and you so craved to know how his mouth tasted. 

“I don’t care how I’ll feel tomorrow. I just care how I feel now. And now-” His hand slid down from your hip, gripping at your knee as he pulled one of your legs up to hook around his waist, somehow pulling the two of you closer. “I just want to fuck you until you can’t walk. God, I want to know how you would feel wrapped around my cock, I want to know what my name would sound like when you scream it, I want to know how it would feel as shake and twitch under my fingers. I want to know how it feels when you fall apart under my touch.”

“Screw it.” You closed the gap, a low moan rumbling from his mouth and into yours as your hands came up to wrap around his shoulders, lifting yourself up to kiss him properly. His lips were wet and soft, moving against yours quickly, a delicate kiss that only sent excitement running down your spine. 

He sucked on your lower lip, pulling away to nibble on it slightly and you whimpered under him, his grip on your thigh tightening in response. His eyes opened to meet yours once again, and just like that, everything shifted. 

He was diving into you again, lips and tongues clashing together, and he sighed into you. His fingers slipped up from your leg to grope at your ass, fingers slipping under the denim of your shorts and nails scraping at your supple skin. His other hand dropped from holding your face, skimming along the back of your other leg as he pinched, your body jumping up with faith, and he caught you securely.

Your heels were digging into his ass, feeling it shift with every step he took until your back was meeting the cushions of the couch, his body centimetres from yours as he held himself up to look at you, fingers weaving through your hair as his hot pants washed over your face. “God, you’re so beautiful.” You smiled slightly, his finger tracing down over your jaw, before tracing over your lips, stopping in the centre. “I can’t wait to see what you look like when you cum for me, kitten.”

“Holy shit..” The words slipped from you by accident, but he took the opportunity of your parted lips to slip two of his fingers into your mouth. You closed your lips around them eagerly, sucking on them and swirling around the digit, soaking them. His jaw was hanging open, eyes hooded with lust as you did so and he retracted them with a pop.

Sitting back, he kneeled over you, fingers swiftly pushing up the shirt you wore to find the button on your jean shorts, popping it slowly and dragging the zipper down. Slipping his fingers under the fabric, they pushed straight past your panties, meeting your wet folds and a loud moan left you at the contact, your hips bucking up into him. 

“You’re already soaked, kitten, and we haven’t even started yet. You’re dripping, making such a mess. What a pretty sight it is.” His tone was condescending, and you couldn't help but love it. Arousal was dripping from every word that left his tongue, only flooding you more as heat crawled along your skin, a whine leaving you as he barely brushed his finger against your clit. 

“Tommy, do something!” You begged, and he cooed down at you, free hand coming up to palm at your tits through your shirt as a single finger slipped into you, slowly and teasingly until he was buried to the knuckle. 

“No bra? I knew it. Your tits have been bouncing about under here with every move you’ve made, I’ve been half-hard just watching you move about since the second I walked in here.” His thoughts were spewing out loud, but the way he was twisting and curling his finger was already building you up, and you were clenching around the slender digit, body begging for something more. 

He seemed to hear your plea, another finger pushing into you and a cry of his name left your lips, happiness lacing the sigh you followed it with as pleasure raced through your body, igniting every nerve and cell it met. He scissored the digits, twisting his arm as he picked up speed, easing his fingers in and out of you as he stretched you out until they were slamming into you roughly.

The material of your jeans was burning against his skin as he jolted his wrist at rapid paces, but watching the way you bit down on your lip, the way your head was tipping back and digging into the cushions or the way his name sounded falling from your lips, it made the burn worth it. He could feel your arousal, leaking from you, the way your walls were squeezing his fingers and he could only imagine just how good you would feel clenched around his cock, milking him of everything he had to give. 

Slipping his thumb up, he flicked it against your clit, barely pressing down before you called out to him, your fingers digging into the material of the couch, scratching it at as you clawed at it, fisting the material between your fingers as you came. Juices were dripping down his fingers, wet sounds filling the room as he pulled his hands from your shorts, your body still twitching and your chest rising and falling at high speeds as you tried to catch your breath. 

He took his fingers into his mouth, licking you clean and moaning at the taste of you, his own eyes sliding shut as he savoured your essence on his tongue. “You taste, incredible. I can’t wait to bury my face between your pretty thighs as they clamp around my head as you shake and moan for me.”

“Maybe later..” Your hand came out, reaching for him, grabbing a fistful of his shirt as you pulled yourself up into a sitting position. Your lips were brushing his tantalisingly, not in a kiss, just enough to tease him, and as he leaned forward to close the gap, you pulled away. “Right now, I just need your cock buried so deep within me that I’m seeing stars.”

A low growl left him as he stood, pulling you to your feet before him and taking your hand in his. The shorts that had been sitting on your waist loosely fell to the ground, and you stepped out of them, flicking them up with your foot and not bothering to check where they landed. He trailed your hand along his chest, and you swallowed thickly at the evidence of a well-toned and defined body beneath the fabric, your fingers twitching to rip the shirt from him so you could see, but he only took your hand lower.

The tips of your fingers met denim, and he lowered your hand over the bulge in his pants, squeezing your hand in his and groaning lowly. “That’s what you do to me, kitten. ‘M gon’ fuck you so good, no guy will ever be able to fuck you the way I do, ever again. You’ll be all mine.”

“Make me yours, Thomas. Show me what you’ve got.” His fingers popped the button on his jeans swiftly, yanking the zip down and his thumbs hooked into the waistband of his jeans and his boxers, pushing them down to his ankles as your hand found his chest, pushing him back until he was sitting on the couch. 

Turning your back to him, your own fingers played with the hem of your panties, your ass in his face as you bent over to push them along your legs. His hand wrapped around his cock, tugging and pumping at it with speed as he watched you, hooded eyes focused on your dripping core. With his free hand, he found your hip, pulling backwards until you were sitting in his lap, his cock pressed between your back and his stomach, his hand still working over himself.

Lifting yourself up on shaky legs, he dragged his tips against your folds, swirling in the wetness you had for him before lining the head of his cock up with you, and you sank down onto him, a whine leaving your lips as you did. “You are so god damn tight.” His breath had been forced from his lungs, eyes rolled back in his head as your drenched heat surrounded him, already hugging him tight and you weren’t even moving yet.

Leaning forward, your hands found his legs, locking on for grip as you began to roll your hips back into his, the feeling of your walls moving against every inch of him causing both of you to moan wantonly into the hot and thick air. It was raw and needy, and purely pent up sexual frustration from the second the two of you had laid eyes on one another, but God was it good.

His fingertips were digging into your flesh as he gripped your hips, and you were sure you were going to be covered in fingerprints tomorrow, from the way he held your hips to the way he grasped your thighs, and the thought only excited you more. Circling your hips, he let out a strangled moan as you clenched around him, his fingers flexing on your hip as he bucked up into you slightly. 

A small whine left his lips when you slowed the pace to tease him, and he thrust up into you as best he could, a chuckle leaving your lips at his neediness. His hands circled across to the front of your body, sliding up over your stomach to grip at your tits roughly, pawing at the palmfuls in his hands as you mewled loudly at the sensation. 

You had stopped moving all together now, your walls clenching around him every time he squeezed at the mounds on your chest, electricity shooting through you as he pulled you into him, your back meeting his chest. “Kitten, I do not like to be teased. Unless you pick up the pace, I will flip you over and fuck you like there’s no tomorrow.” He nipped at your earlobe as he said it, before leaving a wet and sloppy kiss against your jaw, your head tilting to give him more access.

Your hips began to move again, bouncing up and down on his lap, his cock sliding from within you before slamming back in each time, your breathless moans filling the room as he grunted in your ear. “Oh, yeah? What would you do?”

“Firstly, I would bend you over this couch and mark up that pretty little ass of yours. I think it would just look so good, glowing cherry red as my cock was buried in your tight little pussy. Handprints all over your skin, showing everyone exactly who you belong to.” Your eyes rolled back at the simple words, and your head rolled onto his shoulder, your legs growing tired as you shook in his grasp. His fingers slid back long your stomach, one hand guiding your hips in a lazy rhythm as the others came to play with your clit, flicking and pinching the little bundle of nerves.

“W-What else?”

“Hmm, well, I think you’d just look so good covered in lovebites, so I’d mark you up real nice, just for me to see. I’d fuck you ‘til you were screaming and shaking, begging me to stop but also begging me for more, and then, you can get on your knees while I fuck this beautiful mouth of yours until I cum, and you can swallow it all like the good girl I know you are.” His fingers pinched at your clit as he reached the end of his sentence, a cry leaving your lips as you jumped in his grasp.

The muscles in your stomach were tightening, that familiar tingling was crawling from your core and along every muscle in your body. “Please, Tommy..”

“Please, what, kitten?”

“Please fuck me like you said you would.” He seemed to pause for a moment, his nose nuzzling at your shoulder gently as he placed a kiss to your shoulder blade. “Okay.” 

The minute he had spoken, you were lifted from him, a displeased whine leaving you as his cock slipped from your wet core, leaving you to clench around nothing as he spun you around. Dropping you over the couch, your knees met the cushions as your arms lay against the back, and you scrabbled to hold yourself up against it as he fingers smoothed over your ass. Pulling his hand back, he brought it down in a harsh slap, your body jolting forwards as a long moan left your lips, the skin stinging as the pain added to the pleasure infinitesimally. 

He repeated the action, twice more, until your legs were rubbing together, slickness coating the inside of your thighs as you tried to relieve yourself of some of the aching need. His hands skimmed along your legs as he leaned over you, kissing along your back before prying your legs apart, coolness sweeping over your heat. 

He lined himself back up, nudging himself against your clit, just to watch the way you would beg and plead him, before finally, he slammed himself back inside of you, deep and full. His name left your lips in a cry, your bottom lip held prisoner between your teeth as he set a bruising pace, hips slamming in and out of you.

One hand wrapped in your hair, pulling you upwards roughly as his other hand slipped around your waist to hold you up against him tightly. Each thrust was knocking the air from your lungs, your body giving in to him entirely as his mouth found your neck. He was sucking, biting and licking at every bit of skin he could find, your body littered with marks, just for him. 

Your hand came up behind you, your fingers lacing into his hair and tightening, the feeling of your fingers scratching against his scalp had his hips stuttering, faltering in their pace as he groaned, and you tugged, his lips leaving your neck. “‘M so close. Kiss me, Tommy.”

He didn’t make you ask twice, his lips descending on yours, and the messy exchange could barely be described as a kiss. His lips moved fervently against yours, his hands coming up to plays with your tits, fingers tugging at your nipples and you came, your core holding around him so tightly he could barely move as he gasped into your mouth. Your eyes were rolling back, the tip of his cock pressed to your g-spot when he stilled and you spasmed in his arms, body jerking as the most intense orgasm you had ever had torn through your body.

Your head was spinning, and he slowly fucked you through the last seconds of our climax, dragging it out for as long as he could, the sounds of you screaming his name until your throat was raw being the sweetest sound he had ever heard. Finally, he pulled out, and you collapsed onto the couch cushions, body still twitching. He grunted behind you, his hand working over himself rapidly, fingers and cock glistening with your arousal and the sight alone had heat flushing your body.

He was a fucking masterpiece. 

Your fingers came out shakily, gripping his wrist to slow his pace to a halt and his eyes opened to see you as you lowered yourself to the ground before him, a hazy smirk on your lips as you looked up at him through your lashes. “Thought you wanted to fuck my ‘beautiful mouth’?” Your wink urged him into action, and he pressed his hard member against your lips, groaning happily when you parted them for him to slip between. His fingers laced into your hair, his hips stuttering as he tested how far he could bury himself.

“H-Holy shit.” You gagged around him as he tapped the back of your throat, and you pushed yourself forward until your nose was brushing against the hairs as the base of his cock, feeling him twitch and throb in your mouth as desperate pleas fell from his lips. Pulling back, he slowly thrust into your mouth, his fingers pulling at your hair, your scalp burning as tears ran down your face and saliva ran down your chin, but the sounds he was making made it all worth it.

Watching him crumble above you, was a sight that you would never forget, your core already begging for more. Coming up to grip at his thighs, your nails scraped at his skin, and he exploded. Reams of hot cum shot from his tip, covering your tongue and the insides of your cheeks as you hummed around him, causing him to release a broken moan as he gave you everything he had. 

You swallowed around him happily, licking and sucking him clean as you pulled back until finally, he left your mouth with a quiet ‘pop’. His hand was held out to you lazily, pulling you to your feet and his arms looped around your waist, his nose nuzzling against your temple as he sighed happily. “That was fucking incredible, kitten.”

You merely hummed, anxiety coursing through your body as you were beginning to think a little more clearly, and you pulled away from him, your cheek leaving the soft material of the shirt he’d never even taken off as you stepped back. Looking around yourself, you located your panties on the floor, tugging the lace up your legs and avoiding his eye. Gathering up all the empty bottles you could find, you ignored the rustling of his jeans as he pulled them back up his legs, and instead made your way to the kitchen. 

Disposing of the bottles in the bin, you spun around, shocked slightly to find him to have followed you, his body almost pressed up against yours as he looked at you. “Your anxiety is giving me anxiety.”

You laughed gently at his words, your hands wringing together in front of you. “I don’t normally do this. I’m trying to make it easier for you to leave, so we don’t have to talk about it. Make it weird.” 

“Leave? Why would I leave?” He stepped closer, his fingers finding your waist as he pulled you into him, your fingers playing with the hem of his t-shirt and you avoided his eye. 

“I figured now that we were done, you’d feel better, and you’d want to leave.”

His fingers found a place under your chin, tipping your face up until you were looking at him and he smiled at your softly, leaning down to kiss the tip of your nose. “I’m not going anywhere. I kinda’ want to cuddle. I’m getting tired.” You smiled, shaking your head at him fondly and his own smile widened when he saw yours. Leaning forward, his lips brushed the shell of your ear, fingers slipping down from your hips to squeeze as your ass. “Besides, you promised me you’d let me bury my head between your thighs, and I haven’t gotten to do that yet.”

“Oh, fuck..” You murmured, and he hummed happily, kissing at your cheek as he pulled away. 

“Upstairs, clothes off, on your bed. I’ll come find you, I’ll lock the front door and turn the lights off, m’kay?” You nodded quickly, letting him place a gentle kiss to your lips before you took off up the stairs. You could hear him tinkering about behind you, and you had had barely stripped your shirt from your head when his feet began hitting the stairs. 

Pushing your panties back down your legs, you threw them in the vague direction of your laundry hamper, the door pushing open as you turned to face him. He paused, his gaze raking over you slowly and he swallowed thickly at the sight of you. “God, look at you..” His hand ran over his jaw, before he tugged his own shirt up and over his head, throwing it away onto the floor.

Your eyes scanned over his torso, taking in the defined lines of toned muscle, and the dark patches of hair on his chest, and the trail leading down into his undone jeans. Your fingers reached out to him, and he stepped forward to meet you, your touch grazing over his skin so light he could barely feel it. 

“I thought I said I wanted you on the bed by the time I got up here?” You had no chance to reply as he leaned down, scooping your legs out from under you and tossing you back into the cushions and quilts on your bed. A squeal left your lips as you landed, and you made to shuffle back up the bed but his hand locked around your ankle, pulling you until your ass was hanging over the edge as he knelt on the floor between your legs. 

Kissing his way up to your thigh slowly, you squirmed in his grasp, an unhappy whine leaving your lips as he did so. Biting at the skin gently, he finally reached where you wanted him, and he blew cold air against you, chuckling darkly at the way your hips bucked up, a gasp sounding from you. 

Without warning, his arms wrapped around the outside of your thighs, tongue swiping through your folds to suck at the wetness that was already building and you moaned, hips jumping as your hands came down to thread into the dark, fluffy hair on his head. His nose nudges against your clit before he moved up to suck the swollen bud between his lips harshly. His name echoed from the walls of the room as you moaned it wantonly, the feeling of his mouth swirling and sucking at your wetness had you landing on cloud nine.

You rolled your chips upwards, grinding your hips into his face and he released something between a growl and hum against you, the feeling shooting along your body and setting your nerves alight. You were covered in goosebumps, body jumping and writhing wildly in his grasp as he pinned your hips to the bed. 

Circling your entrance with his tongue, he pushed the muscle into you just slightly, letting you clench around it before he retracted it, teasing you mercilessly as you whimpered and begged for him. Finally, he gave into to you cries, plunging his tongue into you and your back arched up, leaving the bed as your fingers pulled at his hair. The sounds you were making only spurred him on, his mouth moving against you like you were his last meal as he hungered for everything you were giving him, licking you clean and moaning into your core as he went.

Your climax was building rapidly, and one of the hands holding your waist slipped down, fingers pinching at your clit and rolling it between the pads, the stimulation throwing you into another orgasm. You jerked in his grasp as you came, letting him lick you clean until the feeling of his mouth on your centre was too much, and you were pushing yourself backwards up the bed and away from his touch. 

He looked up at you as you sighed happily, thoroughly spent and fucked out as you lay among the blankets, and he stood up, dropping his jeans to join the pile on the floor before crawling up the bed, collapsing next to you lazily with an arm slung over your waist. You were too tired to even pull the blankets over yourself, never mind get dressed, and you let him pull you back into his chest.

He did the work, tugging the sheets up and over our bodies as you settled into his warmth, his lips pressing occasional kisses to the back of your neck as your eyes drooped. Whatever you had to deal with tomorrow sounded like a bridge you’d cross when you reached it, but right now, you were happy just falling asleep in his arms as he held you.

You awoke with a sudden start, your eyes snapping open and you became vaguely aware of the unusual but comfortable warmth around you. Twisting slowly under the arm that was around your waist, you turned to face the man sleeping beside you, his features softened and at ease as he slept peacefully beside you.

His lips were pouted slightly in his sleep, eyebrows raised, and you traced your finger along the bridge of his nose carefully, lightly enough not to wake him before lifting his arm from your waist, rolling from the bed quietly and replacing your form with a pillow. Tugging a fresh pair of pantied up your legs and a fresh shirt over your head, you ran your fingers through your hair to tame it, before making your way down the stairs quietly.

You had set off the bacon, sausages keeping warm on plates as the toast cooked, and you tapped an egg against the side of the pan, cracking it before releasing the contents into the hot oil to sizzle. Hands found your waist, circling to rest on your stomach as you were pulled back into a warm chest. “Good morning, beautiful.”

He’d pulled his own shirt on, leaving his jeans on the floor as he’d made his way downstairs, and he pressed a kiss to the back of your head before making his way over to the fridge. 

Pulling a carton of fruit juice from inside, he held it up to you for approval before grabbing two glasses from the cabinet beside your head and pouring you both a glass, setting them out on the island before making his way back to you. His knuckles ran over your arm as he leaned against his hip on the counter, watching you as you watched the food, not looking up to him. “You’re being all quiet and anxious again. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I just figured you would be running as fast as you could right now when you sobered up and realised what you did.” Yu eventually spoke to him, and his touch on your arm stilled for a second before his fingers dropped to find yours, lacing them together gently.

“When I woke up this morning, I was happier than I had been in a long time. The only thing that would’ve made it better is if you would have been there with me, still in my arms.” You turned to look at him, giving him a sceptical look as you turned the hob off, reaching for a set of plates before he stopped you, turning you to face him fully. “I think I connected with you more in one drunken night - before we fucked - than I ever did with Teresa, and that’s the truth. I don’t want to rush into anything, but for now, I’d really like if we could have breakfast, and just be happy.” 

You weren’t sure what to say, your lips parted as you jaw hung loose slightly and a hopeful smile flicked at his features as he watched you. Leaning in, the breath between you both shared as his nose bumped against yours, waiting for your permission before you closed the gap, a soft sigh leaving him as you did. He moved his lips against your own slowly, smiling into the kiss as he pulled away, tucking some of your hair behind your ear. 

The sound of keys in the front door had both of your eyes widening, and as the sound of the lock opening startled you more, you backed away from one another, your cheeks flushing as you turned back to the stove, Thomas standing awkwardly in the kitchen, unable to move before Newt approached the doorway, looking through the letters in his hands. 

“Hey, you got some-” He paused as he finally looked up, eyes narrowing as he took in Thomas standing in the middle of the room, your back to him as you searched the cupboards for plates. “Tommy, hey.”

“Hey, Newt..”

“Where are your pants, mate?” Thomas’ head dropped to look at his boxer clad legs before back up to his friend, and you snickered into the cupboard, pulling out three plates and laying them on the counter before you, deciding you were clearly going to have to split the food three ways now.

“He came over to see you yesterday, but you weren’t here, so he stayed for a few drinks and didn’t want to drive home drunk.” You shrugged, and Newt hummed, pouring his own glass of juice before taking a seat at the counter. Thomas sat opposite him, cheeks still flaming red. “That doesn’t explain why you have no pants on. Why are you chasing my housemate around in your underwear?” He was teasing now, and you cleared your throat, placing a plate of food down in front of him to distract him and it seemed to work as he tucked in hungrily. You served yourself and Thomas up some breakfast as well, taking a seat and trying to avoid the tension in the air. Newt wasn’t even looking up when he next spoke, but it caught you off guard; “Nice hickies, Tommy.”

Your eyes looked to the boy’s neck, brows furrowed as his skin sat clean and Thomas lifted the salt shaker from the middle of the counter up, using it’s slightly distorted reflection to look at his neck. “I don’t have any hickies?”

“No, but (Y/N) does.” Your hands flew up to your neck as Thomas looked over, wide-eyed, before his face just cracked into a smirk, a chuckle leaving his lips and Newt proudly ate his food, looking between the two of you. “Your shorts are still hanging off the back of the couch love. Saw ‘me when I came in.”

Your head dropped into your hands in embarrassment, both of the boys laughing lowly as you cursed, whining at their continued amusement. When you finally looked back up, Newt was just shaking his head as he ate his food, and Thomas winked at you, pushing a forkful of bacon into his mouth. 

“At least I don’t have to set you up on that blind date, now. Seems you found her all by yourself.” 

Thomas’ eyes found yours again, and this time they were filled with something more, a twinkle in his eye as he looked at you, swallowing his food thickly before turning back to his friend. 

“Yeah, I did. She’s perfect for me.”

[whatcouldgowrong-ohthat]

Hi! I saw you had request open, so I was wondering if you could write Bucky reacting to overhearing someone tell his starving artist friend that their work doesn't mean anything? It can be in head canon style or an actual fic, whichever you prefer. Thank you!

The Artist and the Baker

Pairing: baker!Bucky x artist!Reader

Word Count: 2601 words

Warnings: This is fluff. Mutual pining, that sorta thing, guys.

A/N: I honestly really love this request especially with everything going on. I think it’s very common for people to take artists and creators for granted and I have certainly been on the receiving end of that treatment. 

I hope you like this. It was fun to make, but I’m sorry if it wasn’t quite what you were looking for.

-.-.-.-

Becca’s Needs for the Soul – a two story creation that was well-loved and adored by anyone who passed through the splatter painted door. Most people never understood the name, not even her brother, Bucky. Until Rebecca asked him to co-own and start working at the establishment. His little sister, always full of dramatics, had created something for everybody.

It was a coffee shop and a bakery.

A bookstore and a gallery.

They even had nights where people came in to perform music, standup, anything the heart desired. There were other days where artists from around would come and paint, sometimes provide lessons for kids, and other days there was simply nothing but quiet.

It took no time for Rebecca’s little hole in the wall to become one of the community’s favorites. Especially when her brother and his two friends came on. They had gotten it down to a science really.

Rebecca would come in, organizing the bookstore, managing everything behind the scenes, and setting up any special events that would come up. Whenever it was time to decorate the store for holidays? Or even something seasonal that came to mind? She spent even more time out with the customers instead of behind the scenes.

And when she brought in her brother and two hunks to keep people company? It was a genius plan on her part. Especially when female customers spiked. But she would never admit that maybe that had been a smidgen of the plan all along. No, her real reasoning was for the boys. They needed something simple after returning from their second and final tour.

So she stuck two of them behind the counter. Her older brother often spent most days tucked back in the kitchen creating God knows what, but it always smelled wonderful. Any time he came out of his little hole, it was usually to help man the register while Sam slacked because he was flirting with too many customers.

But that was to be expected when Sam was the coffee guy. He was always creating new Holiday specials, deciding the best coffee beans for purchase, and trying something different. No one ever knew what it would be, but normally the smell of coffee and something filled the store.

And Steve? Well, he was one of the store’s more popular artists. He didn’t “officially” work for them, but he spent enough time there where people started nicknaming him the “curator”. He was the one who usually brought in new artists.

That was how Y/N had become part of their little group.

She was a photographer, but Bucky would always say it was more than that. For those who hired her, she found a way to make sure they were comfortable in front of the camera. Y/N always said she understood being nervous because of her own curvy figure, but Bucky just saw how she glowed. And her work that she put here? It wasn’t just portraits or landscapes. She had a way of combining paint and photos to create a way of reminding the world that imagination and reality were always linked. While Sam and Steve teased her for focusing on events to pay the bills, Bucky was the one who asked about which works she had planned.

With a smile and paint in her hair or staining her nails, she would tell him. Her eyes would sparkle with excitement that could only come from being an artist. She was so animated with her words, hands flying about and often looking like she belonged in some sort of cartoon. Her cheeks would always flush when she would realize how fast she was talking or how much louder she spoke.

But he never minded.

He liked having a friend who got so excited about her work. It was a different sort of excitement than Steve. The blonde was always smiling and had that same spark, but he was infinitely calmer compared to Y/N. Their artwork matched their personalities. Steve’s were extravagant and beautiful pencil sketches of people – raw and honest and revealing something that no one else could see but him. Y/N’s were stunning and extraordinary paint and photos – raw in a way that reminded the world to see what they were missing.

Their creations often balanced the walls of Rebecca’s shop. At least they did during the times Steve’s work wasn’t flying off the walls. It was that popularity that had him drawing at the shop. He often invited Y/N, telling her that people not only wanted to buy their work, but they wanted to watch their creativity.

Still, her best work came from the privacy of her own home.

Every week she brought in something new. Something special.

And today was no different.

The rules for artists selling their work were simple. They decided the prices. They worked the transactions. The shop itself provided a place to see the work, but took no percentage. They didn’t interfere.

These were unspoken rules that everyone managed to follow because…well, it made sense.

Until this guy – arrogant and irritating and looking to buy art. Sam had nicknamed him “Sweater vest.”

He had come in like any other day, ordering some tea before complaining that it was “too hot” and “too watered down”. It made Sam’s blood boil not because it was a complaint, but because it was the same order and same complaint every time. And every time, it was those complaints that kept him from tipping anything.

Even if he finished his tea and stuck around for a couple hours every damn time, admiring the artwork, fingering through books, but never buying anything other than his “not good enough” tea.

Sam’s too-big smile was still in place as he watched Sweater vest take a seat next to Y/N’s newest work. Both men glanced at the painting, but for entirely different reasons. Sam did because he couldn’t wait for Bucky to see it. Sweater vest did because today was going to be his first official purchase. And Sam hated that the artwork on the wall had to go to -

“Sweater vest is back.” Sam spat as the kitchen door closed behind him.

Bucky looked up, setting down the dozen cookies that had just come out of the oven. He knew exactly which customer Sam was griping about, always finding it entertaining that someone had managed to get under his skin. “And?”

“And he’s buying Y/N’s new painting,” Sam harrumphed, leaning against the nearest counter as Bucky started decorating a cake.

Bucky paused when he heard that, cursing when he messed up the piping. Setting the instrument aside, he carefully wiped away his mistake and glanced at Sam. Oh, he wanted to wipe that smug smirk off his face. “You’re point?”

“Nothing. I’m just surprised you haven’t gone and looked at it yet.”

“I’ve been a little busy,” Bucky said, gesturing to the creations that covered the counters.

Sam bit his tongue, barely able to hide his laugh. So that’s why there was so much flour on Bucky’s cheeks and in his hair. “Trade ya.”

“Your hands are too shaky. You’d screw these up.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Fine, whatever, but – “

Sam’s sentence died on his lips when he heard shouting coming from the front. Bucky glanced up, ears recognizing Y/N’s voice. The two men shared a look, muttering, “Sweater vest,” before rushing out of the kitchen.

Y/N’s new painting was off the wall and at her feet, tucked behind her as if she was a mama bear protecting her cub. They’d never seen Y/N angry before. Passionate, sure, but never angry. Anger was something she never seemed to reach.

Until today.

“The painting is decent, but it doesn’t mean anything. And I’m not paying three hundred bucks for something that has no meaning.”

“Then why the fuck did you waste my time asking about it?”

“Because I thought you would come to your senses and accept a more reasonable offer.”

“And what do you think would be a reasonable offer?”

“Fifty sounds more than reasonable. And I would be doing you a favor with my connections.”

“Fifty bucks and exposure?”

Bucky and Sam moved fast, knowing that tone of venom and irritation. Sam grabbed the painting, moving it out of the way as Y/N launched herself at Sweater vest, ready to tear him a new one. Bucky wrapped his arm around her waist, putting himself between her and the idiot. “Y/N, breathe…”

“Let me tell you this,” Y/N snapped at Sweater vest, pointing at him around Bucky’s arm. “I would rather never sell another piece of work than listen to your drivel for another moment!”

Sam placed a hand on her arm, tugging her back. “Y/N, let’s go to the kitchen,” he told her, talking to her as if she was a small child that needed to be calmed. He steered her behind the counter as he assured her, “Bucky just finished making some cookies. I’m sure we can steal a couple while he takes out the trash.” Sam glanced over his shoulder, giving Bucky a thumbs up of encouragement.

While Y/N might be completely oblivious to Bucky’s feelings for her, Sam was far from it. And he was completely sure that Bucky would have no problem fixing this situation. He just wished he had a camera to record everything.

Maybe he could borrow the security footage from Rebecca’s cameras.

When the kitchen door closed again, Bucky turned to Sweater vest. He straightened, coming to his full height and towering over the man. It seemed his large build was a firm reminder that Rebecca had ex-military working here because Sweater vest calmed rather quickly.

“I’m so sorry for disturbing the establishment. Artists tend to be a little soft-hearted when it comes to critiques.”

“Not if the critique is asked for,” Bucky told him, taking a step forward as Sweater vest took a step back. Though everyone had avoided looking at Y/N’s and Sweater vest’s argument, all eyes were curiously watching the baker that was often far more quiet than he was now. “Y/N is one of our favorite artists. Her work and company are always welcome in our establishment.”

“O – Our? I thought this shop was owned by a woman…a Ms. Rebecca Barnes.”

“It’s co-owned,” Bucky assured him, offering his best customer service smile.

“By…?”

“Her brother.” He held out his hand. “James Barnes.”

Sweater vest swallowed thickly, throat bobbing nervously as he took Bucky’s hand. The strength in Bucky’s handshake was enough to make him wince, barely able to withhold a cry of pain. Bucky’s other hand, a heavy and metal prosthetic, squeezed his shoulder and earned a cringe.

“While Becca’s Needs for the Soul is open to anyone, we take great pride in reminding our artists that this is their community first and foremost. So you? Are banned.”

Another step and Sweater vest was stumbling through the front door, his shoulder and hand released. “I – “

“Have a nice day.”

The door clanged shut with a ring from the bell. Bucky watched Sweater vest recover, smoothing himself out and making himself presentable once again before he turned and walked away. Bucky shook his head, turning back to the rest of the shop. They all stared at him as if he had grown a second head, never having seen Bucky so outspoken or protective before.

“Show’s over.” Everyone looked back at Sam who was standing in the kitchen doorway. It seemed that was all that was needed for everyone to go back to what they were doing. Sam grinned, asking, “So I could’ve had Sweater vest banned weeks ago if I just…”

“Shut up.” Bucky walked back to Y/N’s painting, picking it up and finally looking at it for the first time. He was…shocked.

It was a full painting – Y/N’s first.

The person was solid black, a shadow with only their eyes visible to the viewer. What he guessed was blue watercolor filled the subject’s irises. Around the person’s outline, breaking through its barrier – endless skies, constellations, galaxies – all messy and brilliant and bold. The paint was thicker, heavier there. He could make out every thick stroke of the person’s figure, of the world around it. Deeper blues, yellows, purples, greens – colors no one would expect to see from a night sky…were there. It was fathomless, endless, and the longer he looked, the more he found something new. She wasn’t connecting the mind, but the eyes, the soul, to the rest of the world.

And that idiot had the balls to say there was no meaning to this?

“I wonder who her inspiration was,” Sam teased, leaning against the counter as Bucky looked over his shoulder.

Bucky stayed silent, hanging the painting back where it belonged. Instead of commenting or over thinking it, he went back into the kitchen. There, sitting on the counter, was Y/N with a cup of coffee and a couple cookies. An apologetic smile curled her lips as she set the plate and mug down.

“Thank you for…that,” she finished lamely, gesturing to the door.

Bucky shrugged. “It’s no problem. You’re my friend.”

Y/N smiled hearing that. She had always wondered if Bucky looked at her as a friend and hearing that he did, it made her heart flutter in a weird sort of way. “Do you…need me to go?”

He shook his head, already returning to the cake he was decorating. The sooner he finished it, the sooner he could put it out to sell. He stood close to her; his eyes focused intently on his creation as Y/N watched him. She loved seeing him in his element. Though he would never admit it, his own creations were art. He poured so much of himself and his love in each dessert.

And it was adorable. But friends didn’t say things like that, so Y/N stayed silent. She was content with this, happy.

Silence fell so easily between them. There was a level of comfort in this moment that couldn’t be replicated by her friendships with Sam or Steve or Rebecca. It was Bucky being Bucky and Y/N being Y/N. Exactly what the other needed.

And neither had any sort of idea that Sam and Steve were watching them through the kitchen door.

Sam looked over at Steve, returning to the register as Steve went to his proper side of the counter. “Think either of them will ever admit it?”

Steve glanced at the glass case that held all of Bucky’s sweets. The first one was a customer-favorite at the shop. A creation that was made of fresh fruit and sweets – something that Bucky had spent all night making the day after he met Y/N. His eyes then shifted to Y/N’s painting, knowing very well who inspired what he believed to be her best creation. Shrugging, he leaned on the counter. “Out loud? Probably not. But there’s always a weird sort of meaning that comes from an artist’s work. They’ll figure it out eventually.”

Sam glanced back at the kitchen when he heard Bucky laugh. No doubt Y/N had done something. “Well, I hope they hurry it up. It’s getting to be a damn romantic comedy around here. And not one of the good ones.”

Steve laughed. Though he’d never admit it out loud, there was a bit of truth to Sam’s words. There always was.

[fan4196]

Come home

Hey everyone here's another Jolex fix fic. Thanks @angry-slytherin for beta reading. Hope you like it. Enjoy!

-

"Alex put your stupid phone away, we are having dinner. You know the rule, no electrics or toys at the table!" Izzie's snortes strictly.

With a quick glimpse on his phone Alex can see the name of his wife. It's another voicemail from her. With a heavy heart he turns his phone around and puts it next to his glass.

From then on he eats silently, deep in his thaughts, thinking about his Jo. He misses her so much, but he has to do this. He's not like his dad, he really wants know his kids.

+

Alex phone is still in the kitchen on the dining table when it starts ringing again. Alex is putting the twins to bed so Izzie is the only one in the kitchen. She walks over to the phone and looks on the illuminated display. A picture of Alex in a dark blue tux with a brunette woman his arms is showing up. The caller ID is saying 'Princess'. The call ends before Izzie could pick it up and the phone turns to its lock screen. It's another picture of Alex and the brunette woman. This time Alex is wearing a black tux and vampire teeth. The woman, who Izzie supposes is his wife, is wearing the same white dress like in the picture before but ruined with blood.

Who the hell does something like this to their wedding dress? Izzie would never do that. Not in a million years.

Annoyed by all those calls Izzie takes the phone, turns it off and puts it away.

+

"Have you seen my phone? I left it on the dinning table after dinner but it's not there anymore." Alex walks into the kitchen after putting the twins to bed. He wants to call Jo. He needs to hear her voice, but he can't find his stupid phone.

"Yeah I put it away. It was ringing all the time so I turned it off and put it away." Izzie answers him casually, like it's the most normal thing in the world to hide other peoples phones.

"What the fuck. Where is it? I need it." He asks angrily. What the hell is she thinking?

"No, Alex. You agreed to spend some time with us without distractions and that phone was distracting you. So no, you will get it back, just not today." She answeres him, turning back to washing the dishes.

"Wow. You haven't changed a bit Izzie. Everything is always about you. I came here to meet my kids. I thought yeah, maybe Izzie changed. Maybe we can be friends again and coparent the twins. But you obviously haven't changed a bit. Now give me my phone back because I need to call my wife."

Izzie's throwing the towel onto the kitchen counter beside the sink hard and crosses her arms over her chest.

"No! You wanted to meet your kids and if you want to stay and get to know them you have to play after my rules. No phone! No contact to Seattle! And don't you ever talk to my kids about your stupid wife again!"

Alex's blood starts boiling. No one speaks about his Jo like this. No one calls her stupid. No one! Not even Izzie. Yeah, she's the mother of his kids but she has no freaking right to badmouth Jo.

"DON'T YOU DARE TALKING ABOUT MY WIFE LIKE THAT! SHE'S ANYTHING BUT STUPID. MY WIFE IS THE MOST BRILLIANT, MOST AMAZING, MOST CARING WOMAN AND DOCTOR I HAVE EVER MET AND YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO TALK DIRTY ABOUT HER BECAUSE YOU DON'T FUCKING KNOW HER! SHE'S THE REASON I'M HERE. I'M A BETTER MAN BECAUSE OF HER. SHE TOLD ME TO COME HERE EVEN THOUGH SHE HAS NO IDEA WHAT I'M HERE FOR. BECAUSE SHE TRUSTS ME. I LOVE HER TO DEATH. AND IF I WANT TO TALK TO MY CHILDREN ABOUT MY WIFE THEN I WILL." Alex screams angrily. Balling his fists, resisting everything to not punch Izzie in her stupid face.

"Of course you take her side. Because she screws you." Izzie says provocatively.

"HELL YES I TAKE HER SIDE. BECAUSE SHE'S MY WIFE AND THAT MEANS SOMETHING TO ME. UNLIKE OTHER PEOPLE IN THIS ROOM. I WOULD NEVER, LEAVE HER THROUGH A DUMBASS LETTER AND SEND HER DIVORCE PAPERS. NEVER! BECAUSE SHE DESERVES THE WORLD. AND YES SHE SCREWS ME, BETTER THAN YOU EVER DID!" He has no idea why he said that, but he wants to hurt Izzie. And if he couldn't do it physically he has to use his words. It's also the truth, so he has no problem admitting this in front of Izzie.

It's silent in the kitchen. Izzie's eyes fill with tears, but Alex doesn't care. With quick steps she leaves the kitchen, leaving Alex alone. He really doesn't care, all he cares about is finding his stupid phone and calling his wife. He hasn't spoken to her since he left and he misses her voice. Also because, if he's not hearing Jo's calming words anytime soon, he's sure he will kill Izzie.

+

After an hour of searching he finds his phone in an empty cereal box in the back of a cabinet.

Turning it back on he has to smile as soon as he sees his screensaver. God, he misses Jo so much. When he opens his missed calls from the last few days his smile fades and he starts to get worried. He has five missed calls from Jo. Two from Mer. One from Link. One from Cristina and even one from Bailey. Something wasn't right.

As quick as his fingers can he tips on Jo's contact and waits anxiously for her to pick up, but after a few rings it goes straight to voice mail. He starts walking worried through the kitchen and decides to go outside. He needs air. He tries another time. It's ringing again, this time she picks up.

"Alex."

"Oh my God, Jo. Are you ok? Is everything alright?"

"Yes." Jo's answering shortly and her voice cracks.

"Jo. Stop. Why are you crying?" Alex askes worried, wishing he could put his arms around her right now and kiss her tears away.

"I- I thought you were dead or screwing another woman or leaving me. I- don't know. I called your mom and she told me that you've never been with her. And-"

"Oh, Princess. I'm so sorry. Crap, I'm sorry, Jo. I- I'm- Maybe you should sit down. Where are you?" He's asking carefully before he tells her everything.

"In the scrub room of OR 3. I was doing an appendectomy when you called."

"Who's doing it now?" Alex askes quickly, a little confused if she left an  patient open just to talk to him.

"One of the new interns but I paged Mer already- and there she is. Let me unscrub real quick and I will call you back ok?" She sniffs.

"Sure, Princess. Take your time." With a smile he ends the call.

+

Alex's now sitting on the bench under one of the big trees in the front yard of the farm. It's dark already but he doesn't care. All he cares about is not crossing Izzie's way again today and his phone in his hands, waiting for Jo to call back.

After another ten minutes his phone rings and he immediately picks up.

"Hey. I'm done and in the attendings lounge sitting on the sofa." Jo's saying a little nervous. Alex takes a deep breath and starts.

"Please don't be mad, don't scream and please let me finish before you say something, ok?" He's nervous too, because he has no idea how she will react.

"To be honest I can't promise that-"

"I'm with Izzie, Jo. The day we reached out to old doctors from the hospital for Mer's trial I also called Izzie. We talked and I heard voices in the background. I asked her if she has kids and she said yes. She then told me that she used the frozen embryos from back when she had cancer and that she has twins- I have twins. I had to get to know them, Jo. I'm so sorry, but I have kids and I needed to be better than my dad and get to know them." He's waiting for Jo's reaction, prepared for everything but she's silent.

"Jo? Did you hear me?" He's asking, to make sure she's still there and she heard him.

"I stole a baby." She's answering quickly, letting go a breath she was holding.

"What?" Alex askes confused, not quite getting the connection to what he just told her.

"Remember when I signed up for this Safe haven thingy? Well Ben called me, the day you left, that there was a baby found at Station 19. I went there and he was so sweet and so tiny and I- ahm I took him home."

"You stole a baby?"

"Yeah, kind of. But Mer and Link put sense into me and I brought him to the hospital. He got checked out and I talked to the social worker. Sooo- we have an one month old little baby boy now, Alex."

"Oh my God, Jo-"

"I know. To my defense if you have babies without me, I can have one without you too." She's laughing.

"You are incredible, Jo." He replies softly.

"Mmhh I know. Now tell me about your kids and Izzie."

"I don't really want to talk about Izzie. We had a fight."

"About what?"

"About you. She called you stupid and I told her to shut up. And I may or may not also told her that you are better in bed that her."

"Alex!" She snorts, but laughs afterwards.

"What, it's true- God, I miss you."

"Mmhh. I'm sure. Three weeks without sex must be hard for you."

"Oh shut up, woman. But trust me when I come home we won't get out of bed for a week."

"Wrong. Remember we have a newborn now."

"You're killing me, Princess." His voice is playful and he's laughing.

They talk for another two hours. Joking, laughing, talking. Until Jo gets paged to a trauma in the pit.

They say their goodbyes. Tell each other 'I love you' and Alex promises to book a flight home for the next day.

[shimeiro]

2- Jean Jacket ( Maxwell Lord x F!Reader )

( 

- Part 2 - Maxwell Lord x Reader

┃Previous Part ┃ -  ┃MasterList┃

Warnings : Mention of sex / Maxie is ... excited

Words : 2839

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« I am Maxwell Lord but I think you already knew that, didn't you ? » He tilts his head to the side with a little smirk.

« Oh uh- Yes indeed. » At first you thought he had it all figured out but you remember his smiling face and absolutely everywhere in this city, television, newspapers. It would be surprising not to know him if you were from here but you know him for other reasons - because your favorite actor plays him -, besides he is one of the characters who looks the least like Pedro Pascal when you think about it, he is closely shaved so no emblematic moustache or "beard" and no dark brown hair slightly curly and undisciplined. Everything about him exudes richness and without his smile he seems cold and intimidating. But you still follow him inside and the atmosphere in the elevator is strange, you are alone with Maxwell because apparently no one else had dared to get on the same elevator as him preferring instead to give you room with a compassionate look that you don't really understand, for the moment Maxwell was being rather exemplary which is surprising it's true, you would have expected him to be more condescending or something like that but since the few words exchanged in front of the Lord Industry building he hadn't said a word, just walking next to you and ignoring the shy greetings of his employees on the way.

Now your panic a little lower - although still present - you feel a little tired so you lean against the wall of the farthest elevator of Maxwell, a slight shiver runs through you when you feel his eyes resting on you and you nibble your lip nervously. When the doors open and Maxwell starts to move forward you take a deep breath as if you had just pulled your head out of the water and then follow him, the heels of your shoes making noise with each step and you sigh inside, you wanted to be as discreet as possible but apparently your pretty boots decided otherwise and so a few heads turn on your way judging you openly, it's the same kind of unpleasant feeling you get when you're new to a schoolyard but you're an adult now so it shouldn't affect you anymore even if it still makes you uncomfortable to be honest, so in a false air of confidence you keep your gaze fixed on Maxwell's broad shoulders as he walks in front of you with a confident step. He stops in front of a door and carelessly opens it letting you go first and then closes it once he goes in, he relies on in the front of his big dark wooden desk crossing his arms on his wide chest and then he looks at you with a touch of amusement when you look at the room you are in, it is much bigger than your whole apartment and you slowly realize that yes, you are in Maxwell Lord's office, just that.

You nervously begin to scratch your black varnish which is flaking a little as Maxwell watches you, a mean smile appears on his lips.

« Sit down, » he nodded to her in the seat right in front of him, « You seem completely lost, Miss ...? »

You tell him your name and then sit down with a little sigh of relief, you hadn't noticed how weak your legs were before you sat down, you would have liked to relax a little but it's quite complicated with Maxwell bending over a little and his eyes not leaving you for a second. He was obviously about to say something but someone knocks on the door, he sighs in annoyance and rubs his left hand on his closely shaved jaw.

 « Come in. » His voice sounds different than before, colder and more professional, but when his assistant enters with a coffee in her hand and a small white paper bag he doesn't hide his obvious displeasure at being interrupted, she approaches Maxwell with a sweet smile as she flutters her eyes with her long eyelashes in a false air of shyness, it's quite funny to see from the outside and your could almost let out a little laugh but you doubt the situation is really ready so you hold back. « Put everything on my desk and take out, Nicole. » Her authoritative voice leaves her assistant no choice. 

« My name is Charlie, Mr. Lord. » she says with pursed lips.

Maxwell makes a vague gesture with his hand as a sign of understanding but he doesn't seem at all interested in the young woman's name and you feel a little sorry for her, you give her a little apologetic look but she returns it with an irritated expression and quickly puts the coffee and the packet right next to her boss on the desk on which it is leaned negligently then she passes by you on her way to the door and her too flowery perfume stings your nose a little bit as you pass by.

« Mr. Lord, you have an interview with Mr. Beauchamp in 15 minutes. » Reminds Charlie in a small voice.

 Maxwell sighs a little and then nods his head and after that she comes out without another word, you sink a little more into your seat and wait for the next movement of the man visibly a little annoyed in front of you, it would be unwise to irritate him more when he was the only person in this fictitious parallel world to have paid attention to you but that doesn't change the fact that you are rather upset of how he treats his assistant, Even if she doesn't seem to carry you in her heart at all it doesn't stop you from feeling a little sorry for her if she suffers the wrath of her boss all the time in this way, even if Maxwell is handsome and charismatic it doesn't change the fact that he is despicable with her. 

This kind of problem of trivialized misogyny, even more present at this period.

You hear him take the paper bag, then he puts it on your lap, you raise an eyebrow in his direction, then you smile slightly at him, you open the bag and discover two cookies that still look warm and the smell seems divine. You don't know where Charlie found them in such a short time, but your stomach thanks her, you take one in your fingers and make sure that it stays halfway in the paper bag so that you don't get crumbs everywhere when you bite into it. But before, you look up at Maxwell sipping his coffee, he always seems to frown a little for some unknown reason.

You clear your throat a little and he looks at you again, you feel your cheeks getting a little warm and you take the second cookie out of the packet and hand it to him with a little smile.

« Maybe you could use a little “something with sugar” to get through this interview, Mr. Lord. »

His cup of coffee still against his lips and his shocked face makes you both anxious and amused, he puts his drink next to him and observes your outstretched hand, he seems really unsettled.

« They are for you. »

« One will be enough for me I have ... my stomach is a little tied, » tap your slightly exposed belly with your hand as if to strengthen your argument, it's true your belly is a little tied because of all the emotions you've been through in such a short time. You don't notice his gaze lingering more than necessary on the skin exposed by your short top.

 « It would be silly to throw away that delicious cookie, don't you think ? »You add, waving your hand a little as if you were coaxing an animal with a treat, the comparison of Maxwell and a frightened animal makes you smile a little, it makes you think of the meeting with Roucky your cat who was a stray cat that you managed to tame by bringing him every day a different treat in the alley where he had chosen to live, at first he didn't come close and ran away, then little by little he came to you and finally agreed to eat out of your hand, after that he became so affectionate and waited for you to come every day, and one day you decided to bring him to your house to see if he would agree to stay, which he did and now he has been living with you for 2 years.

You feel a twinge in your heart at the thought of your cat waiting for you at home, are you going to see him again one day?  « I guess you must be right. » He reaches out his hand to yours hesitantly as if you were suddenly going to run away with the cookie, when he grabs the cookie your fingers barely touch his, an indescribable feeling runs through your body and you freeze for a few moments and Maxwell too. Your eyes meet with the same incomprehension and you quickly withdraw your hand while Maxwell brings the cookie to his lips without taking your eyes off you, you look away and decide to bite into your own cookie to distract yourself.

« Call me Maxwell. » You feel his gaze on you and that again generates a strange and unknown sensation throughout your body, you almost start to suffocate in his spacious office and you wish you could take off your jean jacket that feels like it weighs a ton on your outstretched shoulders, but you know it's not a good idea, not in front of the almost predatory look Maxwell Lord has on you. You look at your feet and rush to eat your cookie and after you are going to pretend you have something to do, anything to get you out of here. Luck seems to be on your side this time as someone knocks on the door again and a sort of frustrated grunt comes out of Maxwell's throat.

« Mr. Lord, Mr. Beauchamp is here, waiting for you. » Charlie's high-pitched voice can be heard from behind the door and your get up quickly, the paper bag of cookies in your right hand, you squeeze it which creates a rustling noise and smile nervously at the man in front of you.

« I- »  You clear your throat looking everywhere except Maxwell's face, « I should go, thanks for... the cookies. » You quickly turn around to the door and once you put your hand on the wrist of the door you hear him approaching and feel his presence in your back, your blood almost boils in your veins at this new closeness. And when he whispers your name in a puzzled voice, you swallow your saliva.   « I could see you again ? »He seems disturbed too, but his voice is firm and resolute and you, you are certain that you couldn't line up two words without stuttering at this moment.

« Mr. Lord ? »Charlie asks again as she hasn't received a verbal answer from his boss.

You swear that you could kiss this a little hypocritical woman to give you a chance to get out of this awkward situation.

« I don't know... Goodbye Maxwell. » 

You open the door with your hand that has become sweaty and you rush out without a glance behind you, it's only when the elevator doors close that you allow yourself to close your eyes and relax a little but it's only for a short time because once you're back on the street you realize that you have absolutely nowhere to go and you don't know DC. 

You run one hand through your hair and you feel tears of frustration building up in your eyes. Yeah this situation is only cool in storys because then you swear you're one step away from having an anxiety attack and you don't even have your headphones and phone to listen to soft music to relax. Clenching your fist you realize that you still have the cookie paper bag, you observe it for a few moments even if there is nothing especially interesting about it, you should just throw it away but you put it in your jacket pocket and you start walking aimlessly in an unknown city at a period when you are not even supposed to have been born.

You don't belong here.

                                            ☆────────☆

You were just a young woman a little lost with clothes and a haircut a little avant-garde, you seemed rather pretty from afar he noted as he got out of the car driven by his driver but it is while approaching a little closer that he saw your face absolutely panicked while you were holding in your hand an object he had never seen before.

It intrigued him a bit so he just moved a little closer and ended up right in front of you and a subtle scent of pink pleasantly caressed his nostrils when he got close enough, your perfume was just present enough to be enticing but not enough to be heady like the perfume of his new assistant, a faded blonde with interesting curves, Maybe that's the only reason he hired him in the first place and it was nice the first week, but now that he fucked her a few times in his office when he was particularly tense she seemed to become much too intrusive believing surely that he had a special interest in her.

He has absolutely no remorse about using this shallow girl to whom he gave a pair of earrings expensive enough to make her lose her self-esteem completely, the power of money always wins.

But you, you seemed very little concerned by his presence so he subtly cleared his throat to make you look up at him so that he could fully observe your face and judge if you were as pretty as he thought he saw from afar.  But you don't react, always getting angry about the weird object in your hands, it was a fine object with a minimalist design and he couldn't really understand what it was for and why you were holding it with such panic and frantically pressing on the side of the object. Maxwell became more and more intrigued, he crossed his arms and cleared his throat again, this time a little louder and it seemed to work because you stopped pressing and shaking a little the object and raised your head with a little smile on your pulpy lips that he observed with an interest he didn't bother to conceal, and when your eyes met his you seemed absolutely in shock, but not the kind of shock he's used to seeing on the faces of the women he meets who look like they're about to hyperventilate when he inadvertently crosses their eyes.

He can't control his slight smile when he sees your pretty face twisting with several different emotions that he can't quite place in the moment, he raises an eyebrow and that's when he sees you looking down on your free hand with your palm open towards you and you look at length with a slight frown. Maxwell blinks several times when he realizes that you have just... ignored him? Normally the irritation would have overwhelmed him because nobody ignores Maxwell Lord and even less from a woman, but surprisingly he felt a kind of curiosity and a slight amusement towards you... Everything about you seemed to awaken something unknown in him and he frown when you suddenly left his office, he wanted to fire that assistant - Elly? Kylie? Anyway - for interrupting this moment and making you run away so quickly, you were incredibly intriguing and he found himself wanting to see you again. It was very surprising coming from him wanting to see a woman again and especially without having fucked her, not that he didn't want, you were attractive - really attractive - in your jeans pants that squeeze your thighs deliciously and it's certain that if your slightly too big jacket didn't hide your ass from his greedy eyes you would have driven him crazy if you had walked in front of him. But it was your top that almost made him go feral, you seemed completely indifferent to your obvious lack of bra, he could clearly discern your nipples through the thin fabric and when he noticed it his cock contracted in his pants and his throat became dry.

But this stupid interview has prevented him from enjoying your presence a little more and the frustration invades him when he realizes that he only knows your first name, he didn't even have time to give you his phone number to reach him directly, he serves his fists. But he is a stubborn man and he will find you somehow.

Sweet little thing that you were, you managed to get his attention and to his own amazement he wanted to see you again.

[ohallthecrushes]

Insomnia // Arthur Fleck x Reader

A/N: I’m baaack, lol. This request was in my box for some time, but I finally finished it. I hope you like it. :)

Summary: Anonymous requested: Reader doesn't sleep often because they have really bad nightmares that result in anxiety attacks. Arthur is super worried. Reader would fall asleep for a few seconds before snapping awake and grabbing either a redbull, soda or a coffee. Arthur feels bad about this but he ends up slipping a sleeping pill in reader's drink. Reader passes out n he takes them to bed. He comforts and calms them when their nightmares start.

Word counts:2320

You didn’t know when your nightmares exactly had begun and what had caused them. What more important you didn’t know how to stop them or at least avoid all factors that triggered them. What worse, you couldn’t hide your anxiety and the effects of the lack of sleeping you’d recently experienced.

You couldn’t focus on anything, your memory barely function properly and your mood was lower than low, you became more irritated and jumpy.

So brittle in Arthur’s eyes.

To be honest, you felt bad for Arthur even more than for your own self. Bad for him having to see you in that poor state you’d been in, bad for him wanting so desperately to help you, but couldn’t and therefore being extremely worried about you. Constant nightmares and lack of sleep put a bad impact on your health and look, in a strange way you had found a way to deal with it though - tons of energy drinks, coffee and staying awake seemed to help you avoid your nightmares. But it was very unhealthy and that way of copping was destined to fail eventually.

You didn’t want your boyfriend to be worried about you. He had his own struggles and fears to deal with. Arthur was such a sweetheart as your boyfriend, he always tried his best for you, and he always took care of you when you were in a bad shape mentally and/or physically, and he gave you his strength to get through the day when you needed.

He was always there for you, and vice-versa, you were always there for him too. You were strong together, you supported one another, understood each other and you were one of those couple that with no single doubt were meant to be.

But even with all the love and support, sometimes things got too bad and ugly that neither of you knew what to do anymore to fix it.

Your nightmares only got bad with time and even with Arthur’s care, therapy and your both efforts to try to reduce the stress, you still were haunted by dreadful and tiresome images.

You started to drink a lot more Redbull and coffee than usual to stay awake, a lot more than any other drinks you had. Way too much for Arthur’s taste.

He observed you even more attentively than before. He noticed every signs of your distress and anxiety and he was deeply concerned about you. He didn’t want you to know that, but he was freaking out inside for not being able to help you get rid of the problem.

He completely understood it, he had very similar problem with insomnia as well. He was haunted by nightmares from time to time that caused him to wake up all sweaty and afraid. He couldn’t sleep because of his anxiety and depression. The only relief he had was with you sleeping by his side, comforting him when he woke up after having a really bad dream.

For him it had gotten better after you moved in together. His insomnia had clearly withdrawn and he slept more peacefully beside you. You were his angel and teddy bear, his one and only, and you were more than he could ever imagined.

He didn’t understand why it was different for you. He tried to figure it out as well. He even took into account that he might be the reason for your nightmares, that maybe you hated living with him but couldn’t admit it. Those thoughts made him very sad, but then he reminded himself how often you were saying that you loved him and how much comfort he was giving you by simply being in your life.

You loved him, he had no doubt about it. But you were in distress and pain and that was making him so worried and concerned. He knew how terrible and exhausted insomnia was. He didn’t want you to share the same fate as him. You didn’t deserve it. His. One. And. Only. Didn’t. Deserve. It.

He clenched his fist everytime you left for work after only a few hours of sleeping. As you took your fifth Redbull at work, Arthur were smoking his tenth cigarette and clenched his fists angry at his own helplessness.

One night, you woke up almost screaming, with a heavy beating of your scared heart in your chest and with tears in your eyes. For a moment you didn’t recognize your bedroom, so real that nightmare was, you had been detached from reality and still in your nightmare even after you woke up.

Arthur was by your side awake as well, his arms already wrapped around you firmly to protect you from invisible monsters from your head. His lips trembling, but calming you down with soft words and taking you back to him, ensuring you that nothing would hurt you, nothing would even try as long as he was with you, and he’d always be with you, no matter what.

You looked at him, you looked at his worried face and you nodded your head trying to believe him. You couldn’t say a word, your body was shaking, but you tried to even your breathing with his as he put your hand on his chest, letting you feel his heart beating and his chest moving steadily, so you could synchronize with him.

For the next few minutes you were siting on his lap and rested your head onto his chest. He was stroking your hair and telling you sweet nothings.

You felt falling asleep again, but you shook yourself out of it as soon as you realized that.

- You need to sleep - he said with a worrying voice.

- No, I- I can’t - you disagreed as you already knew that all you needed was an energy drink - I have to go to the bathroom and...

Make myself a coffee - you thought to yourself.

Arthur was aware of what you didn’t say, though he also had some idea. Idea that might not be good in moral sense, but...

- Mhmh... - he kissed the top of your head and let you slide off his thighs - Go to the bathroom, and... meanwhile I’ll make you a tea. What do you think? Instead of coffee?

- I don’t know... - your voice was low, you couldn’t look at his face, knowing that you were disconcerting him much more than his heart could take. But there was nothing you could do about it, or at least that’s what you thought.

- Herbal tea will calm you down and I’ll stay with you all night to keep you company if you want to stay awake.

He took your hand in his, searching for your eyes trying to assure you that he’d be there protecting you all night, that you didn’t have to worry.

You licked your lips and sighed - I don’t want you to be awake because of me. You go to work at 7, you need to get some sleep...

A faint smile appeared on his face.

- As well as you darling - he thought, but said - I’ll be fine - instead.

He walked you to the bathroom door and then headed to the kitchen. As a kettle was placed on the stove, he took your favorite cup and a bag of herbal tea. The idea he’d had before came back to him and his eyes landed on a blister pack of sleeping pills. He hesitated when he reached for it. He didn’t know if that was something he should do or not, but he couldn’t think of anything else. He only meant good for you and he was sure that it was something you needed. Also he knew it wouldn’t do any harm to you. He was cautious with pills. It wasn’t the first time he slipped some pills into someone’s food and drinks.

He counted the pills, minding how many he could gave you. His plan was as simple as it could be. Maybe a little desperate too, but what else could he do? You hadn’t been sleeping properly for a week now and it was getting only worse. It was another night when you forced yourself to be awake. It broke his heart to see you suffer like this.

The water was boiled and he heard you flushing the toilet, so he hurried and mangled the pills into your drink.

You walked out of the bathroom and found Arthur standing in the living room with a cup of tea in his hand. He was ready to go back to the bedroom, but you stopped him.

- Let’s sit on the couch, ok? - you said with a tired voice before you yawned.

You yawned again as you sat down and searched for a remote control.

Arthur sat down beside you and put the cup on the table.

The tv clicked and the screen lightened up with a bright blue color.

He wasn’t interested in whatever was on the screen, his eyes were on you, examining the dark bags under your eyes.

He wanted to kiss them, but he didn’t want to be weird about it.

He lifted his arm for you instead and you quickly took your tea before you made yourself comfortable under his protectiveness.

You both were just cuddling, not so much invested into watching a movie. You were sipping your tea and wondered if Arthur would let you make yourself a coffee later, while Arthur was just waiting until his plan worked.

It started working pretty soon after you yawned the third time and felt your eyelids getting very heavy. You forced them to stay open, but you couldn’t focus on anything you were looking at. Your vision weren’t blurry, just... it’s like you were dizzy, but in a different unknown way.

You rubbed your eyes and took a big sip of your tea. If not tea than maybe coffee would keep you awake.

You moved and leaned forward to put the cup back on the table, but somehow you missed the tabletop that apparently were farther than you’d thought and you almost dropped the cup.

- Damn it... - you shook your head to wake yourself up, but it only made the dizziness stronger. Your body felt weird to you, like it lost its strength, your perception was deceiving you and you had no idea what was happening to you.

Arthur’s hands hold your arms as if he was afraid you could fall down. He guided you back and gently pressed you to his chest.

- You sure, you don’t want to go to the bedroom, honey? - he said with a soft almost pleading voice.

He felt bad about the pills. Also worried that you would be upset at him if you found out. He hoped you just slowly drifted into a dreamless sleep, but he knew you would be trying to stay awake.

Not for long of course.

Fighting with sleeping pills were pointless.

- I’m good, Artie, just... - you wanted to say something, but forgot the word - I need to... - you pointed at the bathroom as you slowly stood up.

- Yeah, sure, sweetheart. Just come back quick, alright?

You nodded and took two steps before you felt lightheaded and you had to throw your hands up to regain the balance. It was as if you were walking on an invisible rope. Way too high above the ground.

Once again you felt Arthur’s hands saving you from falling as he grabbed your waist from behind you and helped you stand straight.

- Are you alright?

- Umm, not sure... - you turned around to him and your vision became more darker. It was weird. You heard the tv was on, but it was as dark as if it weren’t. The vertigo in your head just continue making you lost your balance.

You couldn’t stand anymore. Your legs were weak. They felt too light, like in contrast to your heavy eyelids. You managed to grip on Arthur’s shirt before you felt yourself falling.

- I’m sorry... - Arthur’s voice reached your ears right before you lost your conscious.

He effortlessly caught your ragdoll body from falling on the floor and lifted you up. He talked to you as he was carrying you to the bed.

- Don’t worry Y/N, you’ll be fine. I’m right here beside you. You needed to sleep, you see... I had to do something. But don’t worry, it’ll be a deep sleep with no dreams. You’ll feel better when you wake up, I promise.

You couldn’t hear it in your sleep, but he talked to you anyway as he placed you gently on the bed and kissed your forehead before he slipped under the cover to lay beside you.

You seemed to sleep peacefully for the rest of the night while he kept his promise and stayed awake to watch over you.

When you woke up, Arthur was already gone. It was 10a.m. and you couldn't remember when was the last time you slept for so long. And so deep. You didn’t remember if you dreamed about anything and it was better that way. You felt rested and those weird experience from earlier disappeared. Your morning had started good, though you were disappointed that Arthur weren’t present.

You looked at his pillow and saw a paper apparently torn out from his journal. You unfolded it right away and smiled to yourself. You would recognize his handwriting anywhere.

“Dear love,

I hope you had a good sleep witout any nitemares and that you feel beter now. I also hope that the rest of your day passes in a good way too. I can’t wait to see you again and hold you in my arms! I love you so so so much my One and Only. :)

Lots of kisses, Arthur”