#anyway i’m mad at my mom :) she needs to go back on her fucking meds because she’s straight up NEUROTIC.

[boyobjectifier]

me: man why do i have so many things wrong with me and why do they usually translate into kinks

me, after arguing with my literal mother and talking it out with Bee: oh

#i will never forgive G.L. (initials of a boy i met during my pro-domme days) #for making me realize why power exchange was such a core part of my kinks + work #all because he was talking abt how he realized why he’s into power exchange #and we have like. the same type of mothers 💀 #i wanted to YANK him by his shirt collar through my phone and smack him upside the head #for making me think about this forever. like yeah whatever i’m grateful I GUESS but holy FUCK #you can’t just drop all that make me have a literal epiphany and then GHOST ME YOU ABSOLUTE FUCKER #nah he’s cool. he’s just a depressed dumbass and can’t deal with how much he loved to pay hot people 😌 #anyway i’m mad at my mom :) she needs to go back on her fucking meds because she’s straight up NEUROTIC. #h.txt

[slayolay]

Life Goes On

November 24th, 2022

5 years since i’ve forgotten that I have a tumblr acc, I’m back.

I just remember that I have this acc 10 mins ago when I needed to vent about how my mom got mad at me for not lending her money to buy her stuff for when she travel tomorrow, well I do have friends that I can talk to about this but they’re busy and I don’t want to bother them. And my therapist told me to write a journal about my day or how i feel, but as much as i like to write on my book i don’t want people at my house found out about it. So the next best place to do that is tumblr, since no one irl knows me here, and i know that the people that follows me don’t use their acc anymore.

Lets start with how my day started.

I woke up at 8 feeling anxious as usual because i should’ve text my advisor to talk about my thesis but i’m to afraid and very anxious about it. Why? because i really hate doing it, if there’s any way i can do to avoid it then i’ll fucking do it, i don’t know why i hate it so much but i really don’t wanna do it. I know that i should, people in my year have already finished theirs, but i haven’t and i hate myself for that. But i just can’t bring myself to do it. Guess i’ll just do it tomorrow, lets see.

I’ve been having mixed feeling this past month. Anxiety, fear, excitement, numb, sad, confused, all sorts of things. I can’t explain it and it’s been bugging me so much. I wish i still have my meds and could afford to go to therapy again.

The day went buy just like that. Until tonight my mom ask me if she can lend me money to buy some stuff for her travel tomorrow. Money has always been an issue for us and it’s really tight these days. I do have a bit left but i don’t really want to spend it unless it’s emergency. I didn’t give her an answer the first time. Then a few mins later when i’m about to go out to buy dinner she asked again. I don’t really want to lend her some because she rarely pay me back eventhough i needed the money and have never asked her for money if i want to buy something for myself and i’ve been the one that paid the bills this month. But i’m still trying to be a good child so i said i’d lend her half the amount she asked. Then suddenly she got mad. And when i tell her the reason why i can’t give her the full amount she yelled at me to shut up and don’t want to hear me talk. Man  i was baffled, felt mad and upset at the same time. Then i went to out to buy food and cried on the way because i’m that kind of person that cries when something upset me. Then it got me thinking, was i selfish for not lending her money? am i really that weak for crying? is she really mad at me? am i a bad child?. All sorts of thought came into me, and its not the good kind. And now i don’t know what to do. She’s at the kitchen now and i’m here in the bedroom where me and her share a bed. 

With the feelings i’ve been having these days, and the situation i’m having, disappearing into thin air or be dead doesn’t sound too bad right now haha.

Anyway despite what happened, thank you for staying alive. You did great today:)

Song recommendation

Langit Abu-Abu by Tulus

https://open.spotify.com/track/2FaquTc3FYvNm7RuO1gD6O?si=dd2af22eac3f4688

[torchickentacos]

ok while I listen to math videos I’m gonna ramble a bit about a strict parent theory I have. if anyone who sees this is chronically ill with strict parents maybe this will be relevant, I’ve got a bit of a wider audience here and I think it may also apply to a couple of you

 I was talking to my friends in discord about how my parents are strict about who I hang out with and  I have a theory about it and it has nothing to do with other people actually-I think it’s a chronic illness parent thing. They didn’t used to be this way and I really have noticed an uptick since the diagnoses in the last 5 years. Like, it’s gone from “sure, go to the shopping center with your theatre people we’ve never met after school and just text me when you’re done” to “I haven’t heard that name before, who are they and how do you know them? ”. And my theory is maybe all bullshit but I think that after hospital scares and being put on hella meds and stuff, parents start to become more controlling of their children socially. Because here’s the thing-medical stuff is out of their control. My mom cannot control my flare-ups any more than I can. She cannot control that her daughter, who she does love very much, is sick and disabled. It could be a lot worse, sure-I’m technically fine, but I think it’s been really hard on everyone, not just me. I think that’s really fucking hard for a parent, if I had to guess-seeing their kid who used to run around and do gymnastics grow up into someone who uses a cane to walk the dog down the driveway. And I think that lack of control over my medical stuff is manifesting as being overly controlling in other aspects of my life-because she CAN control who I hang out with. Or she can try, anyways, but I can still join servers and stuff. But when it comes to voice chats (since I’m still pretty locked-down and I barely see my irl friends irl), she has control over that. I live in a tiny house with 6 people and thin walls. There is no way for me to do a voice chat without her hearing and I think that comforts her to an extent-again, it all comes back to control. 

And it’s not malicious. It’s annoying and probably not needed, sure, but I genuinely believe it comes from a good place. If she can’t protect em from my own body, then she can try harder to protect me from everything else. idk just kind of my theory. Sure, it pisses me the hell off sometimes but I also can’t be super mad when I realise a lot of it is probably from a good but misguided place.

#not pokemon

[yawndaime]

i need to tell y’all about my day but in order to tell you about my day today i have to tell you about the week so far so basically i came into work on monday from my weekend off and literally 45 minutes before i got in my hospice resident passed and i came in while our head nurse was getting her ready for the funeral home barely had a second to process that before i had to run across to the memory care facility because i was 30min late for our covid booster shots and they had already switched buildings, i went to the facility got stared down by one of our alzheimer’s residents (i never know what he’s gonna do like hug me grope me dance with me it depends on the day) got my shot and walked back to the assisted living residence, funeral home came i helped pack up my resident (may she rest in peace) and not 30 minutes later my arms getting sore and i’m shaking like a leaf the boosters already fucking me and my other residents up and i still gotta help them through the night.

anyway night finishes up i go home im feeling mad sick can’t eat dinner, head spinning, nauseous, cold as fuck, besties texting me and asking how im handling the death i can barely even respond cause im trying not to die myself, finally pass out then i wake up teeth chattering literally shaking i can’t even get up to use the bathroom im so cold but eventually i pass out again i keep doing this until 1pm now it’s time to get ready for work again. i get there i feel like shit, my residents feels like shit, the med techs feel like shit, one resident throws up at dinner, another one is yelling at us constantly and ringing her pager in her sleep, all around tough day i go home at 11pm i pass out

TODAY im off because i had a root canal today scheduled for 10 am. i am jolted awake by the sound of my sister in law and brother arguing, it is 9am i was in no way going to wake up in time without their dysfunctional relationship. i wait for them to stop, i brush my teeth and go to the dentist, the man has to stop and numb me 5 separate times over the course of the procedure because im burning through the anesthesia too quickly and i keep twitching because i can feel the drilling (he might’ve numbed me more throughout but he specifically had to stop 5 times for the anesthetic to kick in) the whole thing takes 3-3 1/2 hours i get home i call my mom she thanks god im safe and then proceeds to remind me of that time a dentist put me in a straight jacket because ive always had a problem with being highly sensitive to pain i say goodnight and now im eating curry

#🐻

[howaboutcastiel-personal]

Things that aren’t unbearable:

Brushing teeth

Shower

Read

Things that are:

Eat food

Drink things

Prepare the food

Have company

Washing hair

Brushing hair

Having dirty hair

Having knotted hair

Getting dressed

Being un dressed

Applying for jobs

Getting yelled at

Existing in this space

Everything is way too loud and I don’t want to spend time with the dog anymore unless he’s asleep and I’m asleep. Sleep forever would be better I guess. It’s back down to nothing good because Ryder is gone and Jerry is gone and I can’t go back to school and the meds are not working and my dad is mad at me because the meds are not working. And my mom is loud and I hate her laugh and her voice and everything she says and why am I so surrounded by crazy and hate and angry and crazy.

I laid in bed and read all day. A 90k word fic that was frankly fucked up but also beautiful and meaningful and I’m gonna kill my self. I’m gonna kill myself and no one is going to miss me. But it will give them an excuse to be angry at least and my mom will feel sorry for herself and they’ll say I’m in hell and it will be my own fault

Because she’s a narcissist and dad is spoiled and selfish and angry and Ethan is a sociopath who likes Andrew Tate and is obsessed with guns. And wanting to be alive feels less and less attainable every day but the drugs keep me from killing myself and I won’t stop taking them. I don’t know if she will miss me but I know she will tell everyone else that she is miserable. She will post about it on Facebook. Her Facebook friends will know I’m dead before I do. Just like everything else and god why wouldn’t I want to fucking die

It’s not like the planet is dying. Or wages are unlivable or rent is impossible or food is expensive and it’s not like my body is worth anything to anyone or that it even belongs to me in the first place

Everyone is mad and loud and angry and I am scared of everything and I want to stop being scared but I also can’t focus. Like I’m not really here anyway and I wish I wasn’t here. I wish I was all the way not here and if I was nobody would care and I don’t want to be helpful anymore. I want the rest of the world to die with me because it’s dying anyway and I’m not gonna help stop it. I’ve lost my ability to be something that people need. I’m not something that helps people and I can’t think anymore and all I feel is some kind of pain or tired so much that getting out of bed feels like torture from demons

Why the fuck does this haippend to everyone. Everyone has a narcissistic mom and a dad with anger problems and a fuck up brother that is somehow still the kid that they’re most proud of. And mean racist drunk grandparents and religious guilt and they don’t find getting out of bed unbearable so why can’t I do it anymore when o could do it fine before ?

I want my body to go away. I want to be skinny and buff and butch and I want to be good to my skin and eat right and I want to be pretty in the guy way. I want to be the furthest thing from the soft terrified fat thing I am that is argumentative with no bite or strength. I want to stop eating and never have to drink water again and I want to be able to get out of bed and feel alright

I don’t know what to do

#diary

[from-a-reckless-writer]

They were fighting.

In the DEO.

Again.

“Moms fighting again?” Nia casually leans on the desk next to Brainy, who is currently hunched over some screen. 

“It appears so,” He answers, not really paying attention. In the distance you can hear yelling and the tell-tale woosh of a cape. 

Nia had removed her comms the moment Supergirl spotted Lena Luthor on the field. She’s pretty sure half of the agents did the same. They all knew what was coming. 

And well, if the approaching bickering were any indication... 

“I had it covered!”

“Yes, because an on-coming missile with your name on it was you having it covered, clearly.”

“I saved ten lives today, Supergirl. Jealous you only saved three?”

“It isn’t about that and you know it.”

Nia sees Alex stride in, obviously going in for an attempt to pacify Supergirl. 

And also because it was partly Alex’s idea to send Lena with the Alpha team, in her defense Lena was the only person she could trust enough not to tamper with the device.

“Come on, Supergirl, Lena is more than capable in the field and she volunteered. She saved the day, you kno—”

“Butt out of this, Alex.” Supergirl grits out, too busy staring Lena down to even spare her sister a glance. 

“Sorry?” Alex scoffs, shocked at how easy she was brushed aside. She was tempted to pull rank and use the ‘I’m the Director, here.’ card, if she was being honest.

“No, Alex is right,” Lena points out, “I did save the day. Time for you to acknowledge that the both of us are just as capable as the other. And if saving the day means getting in the line of fire, then so be it.”

“This isn’t about you being incapable-”

“Then tell me what exactly is it about?”

Supergirl licks her lips, swallows and Lena braces herself for another retort but instead she fixes her with a stare that only Supergirl reserves for the bad guys and coolly states, “You are not to go out in the field and that’s final.”

She turns to walk out but Lena’s temper just skyrocketed tenfold. 

“Wow. You did not just say that to my face.” There was something in the way that Lena Luthor’s voice dropped that made Supergirl turn around. DEO agents are openly watching on now, not even bothering at subtlety anymore. The two women fighting in front of the whole agency certainly haven’t tried subtle at all. 

“Let’s make something clear here, Supergirl,” Lena fumed,  “This is my life and I get to call the shots. You don’t get a say in what I decide to do or not to do. Who the hell do you think you are?”

“I don’t have a say? Rao, sorry my mistake! Forgive me for thinking that my sharing a last name with you means a cent to you as much as it does to me. You’re right, who the hell am I anyway? Sorry for wanting to keep you alive.”

Supergirl is breathing heavily two inches away from Lena’s face. Heat and anger rolling off the both of them in waves. They’re in a world of their own now. A world in which Lena is having trouble deciding on whether she should scream some more or pull Supergirl’s lips into her own. 

“Im sorry- Last name?” 

The voice wakes them to reality. A reality that makes both of them sober up and realize they’re in the middle of a very exposed DEO headquarters; makes them aware of the collective gasp that has just happened. 

Supergirl backs away. 

“Please, fucking tell me that I heard you wrong. Or I swear to God-”

Alex heads straight for Supergirl and Lena quickly realizes the implications of what Supergirl had just said. She essentially confirmed to the entire place that they’re— 

“Alex, I can—”

“Yes or no, are you or are you not married?”

So, this is how Alex Danvers makes criminals confess. Lena had never seen Supergirl cower before, but by the looks of it, if Lena had been the one in the hero’s boots she’d also be shaking. 

“Yes.”

Oh, no. 

“Alex, listen,” Lena starts and Supergirl looks at her—no, not Supergirl, Kara—Kara looks at her and Lena sends her a reassuring gaze that screams, ‘I’m with you.’

In that instant it must’ve looked like a switch had been flipped. From Lena attacking Kara to Lena defending Kara in a split second. 

“Listen, we were going to tell you. It isn’t like what you think—“

“Oh, no no,” Alex quickly dismisses Lena, “I’m not going to listen to you. This is between me and you,” Alex hissed not even looking at her, directly glaring at Supergirl instead. 

“Alex, just—” Lena tries but she does the mistake of moving her shoulder in an attempt to put an arm on Alex and she cuts off with a, “Fuck.”

The Danvers sisters look up at her yelp of pain, concern flickering through their faces. Supergirl swiftly speeding to her side, and the shoulder wound she was so trying so hard to keep Kara from seeing, is now out in the open, bleeding profusely. 

“You’re hurt.”

“Fuck,” Lena says again as she tries to take in a breath, pain shooting down her entire right side. 

“Take her to the Med Bay,” Alex orders, eyes briefly tracing Lena’s shoulder before turning to Supergirl again, “If you think this discussion is over, you’re sorely mistaken. You and I have a lot to talk about. And I fucking mean it.”

Lena watches as Supergirl swallows in fear at the sight of the DEO director walking out. 

“Everybody, back to work! Show’s over, morons!”

As if somebody had hit the play button, a buzz resumes almost exaggeratedly; DEO agents immediately flailing to get back to work, embarrassed at being called out so blatantly. 

Lena tunes back in to Kara, “C’mon, hold on to me,” she mumbles, quickly bending down to put an arm around Lena’s knees and pulls her to a bridal carry. 

She doesn’t point out that it’s her shoulder that was injured, not her legs; doesn’t point out that she can walk absolutely fine. Lena can clearly see how Supergirl needs to be as close to her as possible right now. 

So, she clings tightly and presses harder back against her chest.

*** 

Lena’s mind is running a mile a minute right now, she needs to know what’s going in her wife’s mind and she needs a plan on how the both of them are going to do damage control. 

Kara lays her down softly on a Med bed and without a word Lena strips herself off. 

Both of them silent as Kara gets supplies on a nearby table. She sits behind Lena and cleans the wound wordlessly. She’s patched Nia up in secret, way too many times, to know how many stitches Lena needs.

“I’m still mad at you.”

Are the first words that Kara utters.

“Good. I’m still mad at you too.”

She hears Kara sigh and she doesn’t need to turn around to know that Kara’s face is scrunched up in a pout and a crinkle. 

“But...that doesn’t mean I won’t protect you against Alex.”

“I don’t need protection from Alex.”

“Really?”

“Okay, fine she scared me a bit.”

Before Lena can reply she hisses in pain and Kara brings her lips near the wound and “Sorry,” she whispers. 

“We have to talk about this don’t we?” Kara sighs out, finally addressing the elephant in the room.

“Yes, darling, we do.”

“We also have to reach a compromise about this, don’t we?”

“Yeah, Kara, yeah we do.”

Lena hears another sigh and she can guess what Kara would say next.

“Just so you know, I hate this. I hate this very much. If I could have my way, we’re not having this discussion and you’re staying put and staying safe and not running off to danger. Hell if I can have it my way you won’t even be stepping inside the DEO. But...I can’t have my way can’t I?”

“No, darling, I’m sorry.”

Kara sounds so helpless and Lena just wants to make all the complications in their relationship go away. But that’s not how real life relationships work. Relationships are hard and messy and work. God, they are so much work, but being with Kara is worth all the work in the world. They’ve come a long, long way for this. 

If this had happened two years ago, the both of them would not even think about compromise. Kara would just push through with what she believes is the best way to keep Lena safe and would have insisted on keeping Lena locked in a safe house somewhere. And she guesses past Lena wouldn’t even consider the merits of communication with Kara, either.

“I just want you safe.”

“I know.”

“Never want to see you hurt.”

“I know, baby. But Kara you can’t always keep me safe, do you understand that?” Lena says carefully, she wishes she could turn around right now and cup Kara’s face.

“I know it’s hard for you, but this is what the both of us signed up for. Do you think I’m happy whenever you fly off to God knows where, when I see getting shot at in the news, when you leave in the middle of the night? I’m just as scared as you are, Kara.”

But that’s the price the both of them have to pay for falling in love when one is a super hero and the other is a world saving genius.

Kara bandages her neatly and Lena turns around to face her, moving a bit up in the bed and pulls gently at Kara’s wrist to join her.

“I know,” Kara breathes into Lena’s hair as she positions herself,  “I’m sorry. For fighting, for yelling, for...accidentally telling everyone that we’re married.”

Lena tries not to laugh at how Kara pouts at the last one. 

“Forgiven already. I’m sorry too.”

“I love you, you know that?”

She feels more that hears as she fits herself underneath Kara’s chin, tucked tight beside her. 

“I love you too, so, so much. So much that I agreed to a secret wedding,” Lena tells her, “And as much as I would love to continue our little heart to heart, I really think you should go to your sister now.”

“Nooo, Lena noo,” Kara groans out, “Come on, we can just stay here and cuddle and I can kiss your shoulder better and maybe you can give me a kiss too and I don’t have to talk to Alex.”

“Oh, but you do.”

“Have I mentioned I also hate when you’re right?”

“Once or twice.”

“Mmph. Fine. But half an hour of cuddles first and then I go talk to Alex, deal?” 

“Deal.” 

Lena agrees, greedy for Kara’s warmth and also thinking that Alex certainly needs more than half an hour to cool off. Kara certainly needs more than that to think about the words she’s going to tell her sister. She’ll probably die by the end of their conversation but at least she died knowing that the whole world knows Lena Luthor is her wife, right?

***

“Alex, I know you’re mad-”

“Oh, I’m not mad, I’m livid, Kara. Livid.”

Maybe it was a bad idea to talk to Alex in an empty DEO training room where her sister could easily turn on red sunlamps and deck her for keeping things secret.

“What, did it not occur to that, oh I don’t know? ‘Oh I’m having a wedding maybe I should text my sister an update? Leave her a note maybe? Dear Alex I’m getting married today!’” Alex roars and Kara flinches. Rao how could she be this stupid?

“Anything would have been fucking nice, than to hear about it in the middle of a heated fight. Tell me, if you didn’t slip up just now were you even going to tell me?” Alex tries to coat the words in anger but she doesn’t miss the way it wavers on fear and insecurity.

“Rao, yes of course I was going to Alex! I- we-” Kara tries.

“Save it.”

“Alex please,” She begs her to listen as she steps in front of her and reaches to hold Alex’s hands.

“When?” Alex snarls and Kara gulps because her sister definitely would not like the answer.

“Remember that time that Lena and I broke up? Then we ran to each other in the rain, made up? And then two weeks later she got assassinated by those CADMUS wanna-be’s and we had to use the Fortress’s tech to track her down?”

Alex remembers that one so clearly. It was funny at the time, how Jess had caught them making out in the middle of an ‘interview’. How Kara was so happy that she won Lena back.

“Yes and?” Alex quips, eager to know the answer.

“And well, remember how I asked to have some time alone with Lena once we rescued her? And made all of you guys leave?” Kara croaks out, fear apparent and Alex just stares at her clearly impatient at how Kara rambles.

“Well, I uh-kinda suggested we get married on the spot because I didn’t want to spend another day not being married to her when people want to kill both of us, every day.”

Alex lets out a heavy, shakes her head and pinches the bridge of her nose. 

“You know this is the part where I say, ‘Not even surprised.’” She states dryly, “Of fucking course you’re the kind of people who would pull this kind of shit.”

 Kara tries to get a word in but, “You fucking owe me a wedding and Mom and J’onn and Alura-”

“Oh my god! Kara! Your Mom deserves to see the daughter she whisked off to another planet, get married! You fucking owe Clark a wedding-”

“Actually…” Kara starts off sheepishly, knowing full well Alex will explode from what she’s about to say.

“Oh for fuck’s sake! Clark knows doesn’t he?!”

Kara flinches again. Good thing her superhearing is dampened here. 

“Well, uh,” Kara wrings her fingers when she realizes there are no glasses to fiddle with.

“Lena said she wanted a Kryptonian wedding so we had Kelex call Kal and uhm he officiated…”

Alex doesn’t say anything to that, just clenches and unclenches fists at her side. 

“I’m sorry!! Okay! I was going to tell you immediately but we kinda got carried away sneaking around and then it just completely slipped my mind because you guys keep pointing out how we’re an old married couple anyway! And and and—“ Kara is grasping for words, anything just to make this all better. 

“Damn it, I messed up haven’t I?” She whispers, realizing  now that the only thing to make this better would be them admitting their mistake and going for amends. 

“Yeah, you did, Kara.”

Kara feels shame course through her.

“I am so mad at you right now for denying me the privilege of seeing you walk down the aisle.  You know I don’t even want that, I just wanted to see you have your dreams come true and see you have what I have with Kelly, god damn it Kara, I love you and I wanted to be there.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I hate your pout. I hate your stupid pouty face. Your billionaire wife better pay for a grand wedding for all of us.”

“Does that mean I’m forgiven?”

“Mom’s not going to let you down easy though.”

Her sister doesn’t really need to point out the obvious.

“I know. Could you maybe be the-”

“Nuh-uh. No. You tell her yourself or have Lena tell her. I’m not doing that shit for you.”

“Fine.”

Kara will take what she can get. 

“I love you, Alex.” She breathes in relief when she sees Alex affectionately roll her eyes at her.

“I love you too, you stupid alien.”

***

“It’s official then? We guys get to call you Moms now?”

Lena never really expected that to be the first words Nia says to her when she enters the Med Bay.

“Yes, Nia. And also, yes, you’re a bridesmaid,” She answers immediately knowing that Nia was going to ask.

Nia lights up and Lena shakes her head at how similar she and Kara beams. 

Yeah, ‘Moms’ really is a fitting term.

“Alex making you do another wedding huh?”

“Yes, she is.”

Nia snorts, “You say that as if you don’t want the world to know Kara Danvers is wholly and solely yours.”

Well, she isn’t wrong, not that Lena is ever going to admit that though.

“Can I please plan your wedding? I have prophetic dreams. I can totally tell you what would look perfect on that day oh, oh, oh! I can even tell you if it’s going to rain, if you want an outdoor wedding that is. Oooh, maybe I could even see who’d catch your bouquet— “

“Nia, slow down,” Lena mutters before Nia plans out the whole wedding then and there.

“Kara and I will talk about it, but I think she’ll agree, you don’t really need to convince us.”

“Yes-yeah uh right sorry, you should definitely do that. Sorry it’s just I’ve been shipping you and oh my this is so exciting!” 

Trust Nia to say ship is now endgame in regards to their marriage.

Nia jabbers on as Kara walks in and gives the both of them a big grin, Alex trailing behind her. 

“I guess, congratulations are in order, Danvers.” Alex rolls her eyes and it takes Lena a moment to realize that she was referring to her.

She tries to calm down the happy flutter in her heart and the emotions bubbling out of her as she utters a weak, “Th-thank you, Alex.”

“Actually, Luthor-Danvers, we hyphenated,” Kara clarifies, which really doesn’t help the happy flutter at all, just adds to it. 

Alex just sighs and mumbles an ‘Of course you did.’

Before walking towards the bed and surprising Lena with a tight embrace.

“You do know, now you have two Danvers worrying for you every time you walk out in the field now, right?”

 And Lena just laughs. Because for the first time in forever she’s got people genuinely wanting her to exist. To the point that they’d do anything to keep her safe. 

She’s got family now and if it means overprotective Kryptonians and fierce blaster wielding older sisters, she really wouldn’t have it any other way. 

***

They’re fighting. 

In the DEO.

Again. 

“Moms fighting again?” Nia doesn’t really know why she keeps asking, this is like a daily occurrence now. Agents don’t even bat an eye when bickering echoes off the halls, nowadays. Apparently, this is what happens in the CatCo bullpen and L-Corp offices too. 

Alex appears next to her. 

“You know you really should stop calling them that, especially since—“

“WE ARE NOT NAMING OUR KID, POTSTICKERS!”

#the idea of them secretly getting married is just so funny to me #and kara accidentally telling everyone is even funnier #i guess to those people asking for a follow up to the magazine story uh this is it guys... #they get married in secret and then they get married again and they bicker a lot but they love each other a lot too #hope u guys liked that #happy valentines! #supercorp endgame! #the reckless writer writes #a supercorp fic #of sorts #rcklss writes

[shhhlikeme]

Getting Railed By Your Jealous Bf Ushijima After He Meets Your Childhood Ex (Who Wants You Back!)📱📞

———————————

Birthday Event Req By @juminly :

So I was trying to request the following >.<: a NSFW Ushi drabble with f!reader. Ushi being triggered by jealousy or something that happened between f!reader and someone else? I initially wrote a few kinks and you could go ahead with whatever inspires you! [cockwarming, face-sitting, blowjob, mirror sex, bondage, dirty talk or anything else tbh... and soft!dom!ushi]

———————————

A/N: I’m glad we overcame the technical difficulties for you to eventually send this req. hope you like it babes. I still have 2 more reqs from the event that shouldn’t take too long, thanks for being patient!

(NSFW 18+)

———————————

Getting Railed By Your Jealous Bf Ushijima After He Meets Your Childhood Ex (Who Wants You Back!)📱📞

———————————

Sooooooooo

It’s canon that Ushi is a very calm and collected bf

Your friends love him 💕

Your pet loved him 💕

And your family loves him

Or that’s what Ushi always thought...... until tonight.

You and Toshi went to your parents house for an elegant middle aged people dinner party they were throwing with all their friends from the neighborhood

Ushijima wore a suit and everything 💜💜💜 you wore in a beautiful green dress and small heels to match him

CUTIES

The dinner party was great: 🎶 classy , bougie, ratchet extremely classy haha 💎

Until.......

your parent’s best friends’ son—Jeremy—happened to be home too.

Actually , he surprised everyone, crashing the party unexpectedly

And he brought gifts🤨.

Making a huge entrance that had everyone screaming in delight and hugging him, Ushijima couldn’t help but feel a little jealous of the way your family fawned over your childhood friend

Your parents can’t help but gush over Jeremy, because they’ve always wanted you to marry him and move with him to America to study cosmetic surgery

In high school you two dated a little, but then you realized it was all for the benefit of your parents and you agreed to break up but remained distant friends

You were good with that , as you thought it was a mutual decision

But it wasn’t. Jeremy truly had feelings for you and they hadn’t stopped just because he moved away and finished med school

“These are for you, Y/N.” Jeremy smoothly handed you a bouquet of your favourite type of flowers

You hadn’t the heart to tell him your favourite type had changed since high school :S

“And Wakatoshi-san, I didn’t know you would be here. Apologies.” He shook his hand.

Ushijima’s face was hard. “I don’t know why I would not be.....?” He answered with a slight eyebrow raise, squeezing Jeremy’s hand right back.

Hose down that fire Y/N

Anyway, even though your parents like Ushi a lot, it was pretty obvious to you AND your boyfriend that both them + Jeremy’s parents never gave up hope that you two would one day get back together

Not to mention They were as subtle as elephants in a library

They got the fucking photo album, showing everyone including Ushijima pictures of you and Jeremy bathing together as babies and kissing before prom

SMFH!

“Oh, you live in Beverly Hills, now?” Your mom’s eyes sparkled at Jeremy as he showed her pictures of his mansion on his phone. “Y/N looooves that part of Los Angeles, don’t you, honey?”

You noticed Ushijima stiffen. He was thinking about the love of his life, you, living in LA in Jeremy’s ugly mansion and it pissed this Ace off.

You nodded slowly, giving your mom a warning glance. “Sure, when I was 15.”

“Hey Jeremy, your father told me last weekend that you know of bunch of players on the LA Rams?”

Jeremy nodded proudly. “Yes sir. A lot of their wives and mothers are patients of mine, so the starting line up usually sends me Christmas cards with season passes and signed memorabilia so that I up their women on the waiting lists. Whenever you’re in America and you’d like to go see a game, just let me know.”

You rolled your eyes at how loud your father exclaimed in joy. “I keep telling you to call me YF/N!” He clapped. “And that’s a real sport right there. Football, Baseball, Soccer. Everything else is a joke to real men.” Your father finished.

“DAD!” You chastised, stomping your foot under the table.

“What—?”

You glowered are him. “In case you FORGOT.....Ushijima happens to be a professional volleyball player.”

Your dad had clearly forgotten, trying to blubber out an apology. Ushijima interrupted him, putting a hand on yours to settle his furious girlfriend.

“That’s quite alright, sir. I took no offence to it.” Ushi was used to other men not recognizing volleyball as a manly sport—he is very confident so that didn’t bother him. Rather, what stung was the fact that your father had never asked Toshi to call him by his first name before, and you two had been dating for three years.

To your dismay, Yours and Jeremys parents continued to say annoying shit like that all night

Jeremy loved it 🙄

You hated it, and defended your man at any chance you got

Ushijima stayed silent through it all, trying to calm you down actually.

Like I said he’s confident and not easily shaken

He only had had enough when the conversation changed to Jeremy’s explanation of liking his life and his career but it all never seeming good enough because of “the one that got away” and how “she seems happy in a relationship now” but “he would do anything to get her back”

Meanwhile he’s sneaking heartfelt glances at you 🤬🤬🤬🤢

Your mother and father were doting, looking at you and eachother as if to say “come onnnnn Y/N give him another chance”

Ushijima picked up on it all.

At one point during Jeremy’s explanation of ‘the one that got away’ you stuck your finger down your throat to make a gagging noise childishly

YOUR PARENTS WERE NOT HAPPY LMAO

anyway, at the end of the night you said bye to everyone..... and Jeremy asked to speak to you in private on the empty porch

Ushijima watched with a locked jaw by the car, leaning on it so he could stare openly

He was justly heated as he watched the conversation (but couldn’t hear anything) happening on the porch at night

He witnessed Jeremy write down what had to be his number and hold it in front of you for you to take

You hesitated, not sure if you should take it just to avoid causing more waves with both parents or to stomp on his foot

Luckily you didn’t need to do either because Ushijima had silently stormed over in a millisecond, whisking the paper from Jeremy’s hand, staring at his number written on the paper before crumbling it and throwing it over his shoulder.

“She doesn’t need it. Goodnight, Jeremy.”

Ushi grabbed your hand and walked you to the car angry af, you had to jog in your heels to keep up with him

This man was maaad and silent the whole way home, thinking about how everyone seems to be so sure that your ex could have given you a better life

He still held your hand the entire drive though, so clearly he wasn’t mad at you ❤️

He hated that everyone liked this Jeremy better all because he went down the conventional path to success:

Hadn’t Toshi paid for everything? Hadn’t Toshi massaged your feet? Hadn’t Toshi made you extremely happy? Hadn’t they seen how you were treated? Did you believe someone could do better?

Nonsense.

Toshi knew that he was the BEST boy and that no one could dare love you more or treat you better....... and you tended to agree

But Toshi needed to hear you say it.

He needed to feel it, too.

Upon arriving at yours & Toshi’s gorgeous modern home:

Toshi hurriedly closed the door

you hadn’t even fully taken off your heels yet when you felt your boyfriend pressed himself against you from behind, lifting your dress up and rubbing his long hard cock print on your pantied pussy lips as you bent over

You moaned and started to get wet immediately

“Take off the panties.” He ordered.

you did obviously 😭 almost tripped with how fast you did it

Horny bish lol

Your boyfriend then picked you up in his strong arms and walked a few steps into the foyer, placing you so your ass was sitting on the 7th marble stair. He knelt down in between your legs and spread them while you sat on the staircase

He squeezed your ass in his large hands and dove into your pussy with his lips then tongue, immediately skipping the gentle licks... and tongue fucking your entrance into oblivion

His tongue was wet, strong and needy and fuck you choked on your own cries

You threw your head back, already screaming Ushi’s name

“Mmm scream my name just like that. Let everyone hear who you belong to.” He paused tongue fucking you to order.

you shuddered as you felt his warm breath on your clit and Ushi expertly enclosed his mouth around your sopping cunt, French kissing your clit into his mouth and sucking on it like a tiny lollipop

You tugged on his hair and screamed his name louder, feeling your interior walls clench

Once your legs started shaking because you were about to fall over the edge, Ushi picked you up again, making you wrap your legs around his waist

Toshi bent down quickly to empty his pockets which consisted of his keys, wallet, and his phone, placing it where you were just sitting when he was eating you out

Ushiwaka pressed your back against the wall beside the staircase.....

He held your entire body weight with one arm as he leaned in to kiss your neck, using his other hand to unbuckle his belt and kick his pants off

When he was freed & nude, he asked you kindly if you were ready and once you nodded he put one of his feet on the sixth stair, the other on the fifth, then thrusted deep into your soaking heat

He wasted no time in pounding you into the wall, the slight pain of the hard wall and your boyfriend’s hard dick somehow heightening the pleasure factor

Ushijima took both of your wrists in his gigantic hand and locked them above your head as he gave you nice and deep thrusts the way you both like it

“So fucking wet. All because of me, correct? I’m the only one who makes your pussy drip like this.”

Your pussy answered:💧 💧💧💧💧💧💧💧

Your vaginal walls squeezed around his dick and you bit his shoulder because the pleasure disallowed you to speak and Ushi groaned out

“Say. This. Tight. Pussy. Is. Mine.” He grunted as he circled his hips a bit while pounding, his voice grave.

Toshi picked up the pace as your soaking wet walls clenched around him even more from his dirty talk.

“Say. Who. This. Pussy. Belongs. To. Beautiful.”

You were being fucked too well, you couldn’t speak, you could only moan ... like usual

But your boyfriend wasn’t having any of that tonight.

He let go of your captive wrists and held you with both hands again, stepping downstairs and stopping in front of the large mirror in your foyer, turning so that only you could see yourself poking over his large shoulder, along with your boyfriend’s fine juicy ass and back calf muscles 🤤

Ushi grabbed the back of your neck (not enough to hurt) but just enough so that your head was up and you were looking at yourself in the mirror. He began to fuck you again, getting nice and deep in your pussy as he made you bounce on his dick in his arms

“Are you seeing yourself?” He laughed sexily. “Getting dumb-fucked, Princess? Whose dick are you taking, Y/N?” Wakatoshi groaned as your pussy clenched around him even more. He could tell you were about to cum and that he wouldn’t be long after. But he needed to hear you say something first.

“Who is your first choice, Y/N? Who fucks you like this every night? Who’s dick can you never get enough of? Me? Or Him?”

In your stupor, you watched yourself in the mirror: Toshi’s delectable ass flexing as he pushed in and out of you, feeling his strong hand gripping your neck. You weren’t a big talker during sex and bae knew that, but the amazing feeling of this angry jealous sex was too much, his big dick felt too fucking good..... and one particularly hard thrust from him that grazed your g-spot in the besssst way gave you the energy to cry out;

“YOU, TOSH. FUCK THAT JEREMY, HE COULD NEVER FUCK ME LIKE YOU DO. OR TAKE CARE OF ME LIKE YOU DO. I DON’T WANT OR NEED ANYONE ELSE BUT YOU. YOU’RE THE BEST BOY WITH THE BEST DICK. NO ONE CAN EVEN C-COME CLOSE TO YOU. YOU —OH, OH, OH MY GOD, I’M GONNA—“

Wakatoshi let go of your neck, landing soft kisses on your neck while he returned to gripping your ass with both hands now, sliding you up and down his long, hard, soaking wet dick from your juices.

It felt so fucking good 😩

“That’s right princess. I’ve heard enough, baby. I knew it: I just needed to hear you say it. Now cum for me.”

when you did, you made sure to scream out all the praises you always told toshi when you weren’t getting fucked, making him feel like a King, reassuring him that your mind, body, and soul belonged to him and NO ONE else.

Wakatoshi found his release soon after from your pussy but also from your words, shooting his thick cum up inside you for you to take as he caressed your back and whispered how much he loved you in your ear.

Then, as you laid limp in his arms, he left his cock to stay warm inside you and went back to the stairs, fully prepared to go head up and bathe you, then put you to bed.

But as he passed the sixth step, though, Toshi bent down to pick up his keys, wallet and phone that he’d set there.

As you fell asleep on his shoulder, Ushi grinned at his phone screen, pressing send to the voicemail message he’d just recorded.

Whoops 😏 must have accidentally butt-dialed someone before fucking you and left a long message by accident

😕ohno😕

With a photographic memory, it wasn’t difficult for the Ace to remember such a plastic surgeon’s phone number when Ushi saw it on the note.....

And Toshi could explain to you how sorry he was that he’d accidentally dialed it before railing you to sleep on the stairs and in the foyer

But truth be told, your boyfriend’s only real regret would be not being able to see the look on Jeremy’s face when he listened to it on his flight back home.

Bday Event Masterlist

#aone and ushijima birthday event #ushijima smut #wakatoshi smut #ushiwaka x reader #ushiwaka x y/n #ushiwaka x you #haikyuu boys #haikyuu!! #sexy hq boys #haikyuu stories #hq headcanons #haikyu headcannons #haikyuu imagines #hq sexy stories

[justanotherblonde23]

You Can’t Please Everyone - A Marcus Moreno Story

Author’s Note: Welcome to Part 3 of my Marcus Moreno and Doctor Iris Moreno one shot series! This wasn’t originally the one I planned on releasing today, but I was going through it last night and @autumnleaves1991-blog​ suggested that I write my feelings out and let it all pour into my writing. She was right, I felt so much better afterwards. Still no descriptions for what Dr. Moreno looks like, I want you to feel like you can see yourself as her <3 Thank you all for your love and encouragement, I really appreciate it. 

Warnings: angst, crying, parental problems, hurt/comfort, pregnancy mentions, language

Let me know what you think, what you’d like me to write next, want to be on a tag list for this series, etc. I want to interact with you all! 

Iris opened the front door, trying her best to be quiet; she didn’t want to wake the kids. If Marcus got the timing right, their girls should have just finished their bedtime routine and have settled in for the night. She took her jacket off, hanging it up in the coat closet. All she wanted was to grab a glass of wine and curl up and have a good cry. Unfortunately, being pregnant meant no alcohol, so she would soldier through with a good cry in the shower, maybe. 

Her heels clacked on the stairs. She went slowly, her heart and mind weary. Both girls had their doors open a crack, the universal sign that they wanted kisses and to be tucked in by momma, too, even if she came home a bit late. The drowsy kisses and ‘I love yous’ filled her with joy, covering the ache just a little. She knew that no matter what went wrong throughout the day, she would always be coming home to two precious little girls that loved her dearly. At this point, she couldn’t even imagine life without them. 

Marcus was right where she expected him to be, in bed curled up with a good book. It still blew her away every time she stopped and realized that he was hers, and she was his. Being his wife, it was bliss in every sense of the word. She hadn’t expected him to propose; how could she when his last marriage ended the way it did? Iris would have been happy to be with him forever in any way that he’d have her, but she had to admit that she had wanted to be his wife. She had changed her name as fast as humanly possible, for the thought of being Dr. Moreno filled her with pride. He had suggested keeping her last name or maybe hyphenating it after he proposed. He knew how hard she had worked to make that name worth something, and he didn’t want to take that away from her. She had appreciated the gesture, but she insisted that her work was her own, no matter her last name. She wanted to share everything with Marcus Moreno, including his last name. 

The man in question looked up, giving her one of his earth-shattering smiles, the one that made her feel as if she was the center of his universe. How could she not melt when his soft brown eyes held her gaze, baring his soul to her? She loved this beautiful man with every breath she took. 

He frowned when he noticed her eyes had welled with tears, leaving black mascara tracks down her cheeks. Silently, he stood up, gently unzipping her dress for her and helping her into a shirt of his that she loved to wear to bed. He knew that she would talk to him when she was ready. He would wait her out; it was better not to press her. Marcus led her into the bathroom, sitting her up on the counter while he cleaned her face with a warm washcloth and makeup remover. With each tender swipe of the washcloth, more tears fell. He could feel her shaking underneath him, the silent sobs giving way to heaving gasps.

Once he finished washing her face, he cradled her in his arms, carrying her back to their bed. He settled her on his lap, her legs straddling his hips, arms wound around his neck, face tucked in next to his own. The closer he could get to her, the better he knew she’d be able to feel. His hand snaked under the shirt, rubbing soothing circles on her back, fingers pressing patterns into her spine. He whispered words of comfort in his wife’s ear, willing her to hear what he was saying. Darling, I love you. I’m here for you; you’re not alone. Let it all out, baby. It’s okay to cry. Don’t keep it all stuffed inside; just cry it out. Missy loves you, Jules loves you, I love you. He went on and on, pouring his love and adoration into her. Eventually, her tears subsided, and she was ready to talk. She pulled back a bit so that she could look into those kind eyes of his that never judged her or made her feel less than. 

“Dinner with my dad was a disaster, Marcus, it was horrible. I should’ve known it would be bad, but I was hoping that this time might be different.” 

He nodded sympathetically; her relationship with her father was complicated. That man was manipulative, two-faced, selfish, and frankly a terrible parent. He had never approved of their relationship, blatantly refusing to even come to their wedding, insisting that they’d be getting a divorce at some point anyway. No matter how happy they were together, that man was always finding something to nitpick. If it wasn’t the age gap, it was the fact that Iris had stepped up and filled the spot of mother that the girls had so desperately needed. He hated their jobs, their house, the fact that they were individuals with enhanced abilities. Marcus couldn’t think of a situation where he had ever said anything positive about, well, anything. 

Despite all of this, he knew that Iris still loved him, still cared about him, and desperately wanted some type of relationship with him. She was the kindest person that Marcus had ever met. Her passion for people, her ability to truly empathize with others and try to help them heal was inspiring. He had never seen anything like it. He had seen it firsthand with his girls. She poured every ounce of love and devotion into them, treating them as if she had given birth to them herself. She said time and again that there was no difference to her. They were her girls just as much as they were his, and she loved them as such. That love and care extended to her father, too, no matter how many times he hurt her. 

“What did he do, honey?” he was hesitant to ask. Marcus knew that he would get mad at her father and have to rein himself in. He hated to see his wife hurting like this, and it made his blood boil. No one should cause her this much turmoil, especially someone that was her parent. 

“The whole thing was just a mess from the start. Dad was giving the poor waitress a hard time the second she came to the table. You know when he acts like he’s funny, but actually, he’s just rude? He was playing that game. I tried to talk him off the ledge and get him to bring it back in a bit. You should’ve seen her face, Marcus. She was petrified. Every time she came to the table, I could see the apprehension in her eyes. I tried to make sure that I was as nice to her as humanly possible to make up for him. Jesus Marcus, he should know better. I bartended to help mom with money when she was sick, for goodness sake. I was just like that poor girl all through med school and up until I got hired at Heroics HQ. You’d think he’d be willing to consider that.” 

He shook his head, placing a kiss on her forehead, not interrupting her as she spoke. He knew that Iris needed to get it all out before he chimed in. 

“Then he realized that I didn’t order any wine and commented on that, and oh fuck Marcus; it just came out. I just blurted out that I wasn’t drinking because we’re having a baby. He fucking laughed at me, told me not to joke about shit like that. When he figured out that I was serious, he was furious. He told me that I made a mistake, that this baby would just tie me down. He told me that this was a sign that it was time to give up my career and commit to being a mother. I just- I can’t believe everything he said. He went on and on about how I was finally having a real kid of my own as if Missy and Jules aren’t mine, and how it was unfortunate that this baby was yours. I thought that maybe he’d be happy that he’d be excited, but it was a shit show. He didn’t ask how far along I was or anything. I don’t know why I even do this anymore, why I even hope for his approval. It’s a battle I’m never going to win, so why even try? And fuck, these pregnancy hormones are making me so goddamn emotional. I couldn’t even make it through the main course. I made up a work emergency and left. I’m hurting, I’m fucking starving, and I just want to curl up and call it a night.” 

There was silence for a few moments, Iris once again hiding her face in the crook of Marcus’ shoulder. He wished he could physically take the pain away, that he could take her heart in his hands and cradle it to his chest, protecting it from everything that threatened to break it. It killed him to see her like this, and it wasn’t fair; she didn’t deserve this. It didn’t help that at 12 weeks, her pregnancy was beginning to take a toll on her. It was always tricky for enhanced individuals to carry a child, even more so when the child was also enhanced. It just made everything a bit more complicated. He hadn’t seen it up close himself before. His ex hadn’t had powers. To see Iris suffering and struggling with harsher than average symptoms tore at his heartstrings. They were both so excited to have this little one; it would just be a bit more challenging.  

“Baby, I’ll be right back. I’m gonna grab a few things, get comfy okay?” 

Marcus hated untangling himself from her, but he knew what might make her feel a bit better. She let out a noncommittal grunt, letting him know that she heard him. He quickly went down to the kitchen, grabbing supplies. He put everything on a tray, double-checking that he had what he needed before going back up to the bedroom. He set the tray on the bed, earning a grin from his darling wife. 

“Okay, so you said you were hungry; I thought I’d grab the things you’ve been craving recently. I’ve got a bowl of butter pecan ice cream with strawberry sauce, the whipped cream from a can, and crumbled up potato chips with a side of frozen Reese’s peanut butter cups and that guava juice you started liking last week. Oh, and a grilled cheese that I made earlier and put in the fridge. I know you like them cold right now. I’m not gonna question it. I’m sorry you didn’t even get to eat anything when you went for dinner, but this might be even better.” 

He settled into bed next to Iris, putting the tray on her lap. The giggle of delight that left her mouth made him feel warm inside. He watched her dig into the ice cream, telling him about the new developments that she was working on for his katanas, how she wanted to adjust the grips a certain way, and asking for his input. There she was, his wife was crawling back out of the pain and the hurt. He adored her enthusiasm for science and invention. She always had some idea or other to improve his weaponry and armor. He could listen to her passionately explaining her thoughts and ideas for the rest of his life, and he’d never get bored. 

By the time she finished, the disaster of a dinner had been wholly forgotten. Marcus got up, placing the tray on the dresser. He’d deal with it in the morning. They spent another hour talking, cuddling, and holding each other tightly. After a while, he noticed that Iris began to nod off, her eyelids struggling to stay open. He adjusted their position so that they were lying down, and his love was wrapped securely in his arms. She fell into sweet slumber to the sound of Marcus murmuring sweet nothings in her ear and his hand rubbing her tummy, holding her and their baby close. She may not be able to please everyone, but she had Marcus, their two girls, and this baby. In the end, that was everything. It was all she needed.  

Tag list: @autumnleaves1991-blog​ @madness-roses​ @bisexual-space-slut​ @dindjarindiaries​ @frannyzooey​ @cinewhore​ @revolution-starter​ @mrschiltoncat​ @softpedropascal​ @paniclana​ @jollyrancher87​ @hdlynnslibrary​ @maybege​ @corrupt-fvcker​ @cyaredindjarin​ @magicsuperheroes​ @flightlessangelwings​ @itspdameronthings @fallingoutofthe1975​ @thestreamergirl​

#marcus moreno #we can be heroes #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno x y/n #marcus moreno x fem!reader #pedro pascal #marcus moreno fic #marcus moreno story

[sirowsky]

The Flowers Always Know

Description: When a mad scientist uses you as an experiment while you’re on holiday, the Heroics only just manage to save you. And in your recovery you become very close to the leader of the group. (Slow burn)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Language.

Link to Masterlist

Comment: Another day of side-effects where my head really hasn’t been in the game. But a little fun stuff to pass the time has managed to crop up. 

So sorry for the tease ending... I blame the headaches.

Chapter 27

  The Chef, Greg, had personally brought you extra leftovers during the five weeks you were living in the cell, training and learning about your abilities. He knew about your abnormal energy-consumption, and had become concerned when you never ordered more than a double portion of food, no matter how exhausted you were.   So, he’d come to give you the leftovers one evening, and you’d explained that it felt like you’d be stealing from others that might need it, if you ordered six or even eight portions.   After that, he’d begun saving all the leftovers every day, and bringing you that for the extra portions you otherwise wouldn’t have ordered.

  “I may have to make Greg my Best Man.”

  “He’d probably decline. He’s nice, but he does have standards.”

  “Ouch…”

  “He doesn’t know you, Cujo.”

  “Okay, seriously, what is up with that?”

  “It’s just an accurate description.”

  “I am not a fucking dog.”

  “Yes, you are. It’s just that, ordinarily, you’re a puppy. You just have that lovable puppy-face, with the eyes and the grin that can melt the coldest of hearts. And then, you bare your teeth and growl, and you look fucking terrifying.”

  “I do?”

  “Um – yes. Unequivocally – yes. It’s amazing.”

  “Wait… you like my Cujo-quality?”

  “I like that you have that side, when you need it. I like that it comes out almost exclusively to protect the things you love. And I have to admit that I like the fact that even the remotest possibility that William actually had tried something, elicited that kind of a response from you.”

  “I was a little shocked at how strongly I reacted to that. Just the thought… I would’ve killed him, if he had. Not because you… belong to me. But because you were weak and unable to stop anyone that might have tried. Thank god William’s even more of a puppy than I am.”

  “Will is more of a Greyhound.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, you know – sleek, effective, streamlined.”

  “Okay, let’s just drop the whole dog-topic already.”

  “And, just for the record – of course I belong to you. Ass-hat.”

  He practically beamed at you.

  “Ditto. Mama bear.”

  You’d been talking while walking back from lunch, and when you got back to your office, Anita was there. Just standing in the middle of the room, with her signature scowl in full effect.

  “Hi, mom. Wow, you’re actually in the office, it must be serious.”

  “Fifty noise-complaints in the last hour – is serious.”

  You both stopped smiling, and threw a nervous glance at one another, but she just huffed and turned to you.

  “Have you had yourself checked out by medical, yet?”

  “No… why would I…?”

  “Because human beings don’t possess the biological imperative to breed, to the point where their libidos take control of their bodies.”

  You had actually checked both your offices for cameras and microphones a good while back, and found nothing. And there weren’t any fucking flowers in your office!

  “How the hell do you know that? Seriously… How?”

  She just rolled her eyes.

  “Get your ass down to medical. Now.”

  “No.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Whatever it is, I feel fine now, which means they probably wouldn’t be able to detect anything abnormal, so I’m gonna finish my work for the day, and then I’ll go to medical.”

  You walked over to your desk as you spoke, and as you sat down, you remembered something.

  “And by the way, where you in charge of selecting my substitute while I was gone?”

  “Yes. Petra wasn’t ideal.”

  “You don’t say. If I’m ever gone for an extended period of time again, no one sets foot in my fucking office. Got it?”

  “Did you just try and give me an order, loco?”

  “I’m not trying anything. I’m telling you. No one.”

  She threw you a kinda skewed smile and then turned around to leave. But as she crossed the threshold she stopped and looked back at you with pure steel in her eyes.

  “4pm. If you’re not at medical by then, I’ll drag you there by your ear.”

  “Try it. Please.”

  She left and you sighed and looked at Marcus, who had sat down on the couch again, one arm draped over the backrest while he’d watched you take on Máma.

  “Are you absolutely sure you feel fine? Because I’m all kinds of hot and bothered right now.”

  “50 noise-complaints, Marcus. That’s half the damned building.”

  “And like I said: fuck ‘em.”

  “Please go away so I can think.”

  “Only if you promise to call me the moment you feel any amount of craving. I’m serious.”

  “You think I want to feel like that again? Of course I’ll call, and you’d better pick up. I don’t care if HQ’s on fire.”

  “You have my word, famb.”

  “You know, your list of nicknames is getting a bit ridiculously long.”

  “Oh, I haven’t even started on the real one’s yet.”

  “Real ones?”

  “Prometida, esposa, amada, mi corazón…”

  “Okay, okay, have as many as you like, jeez.”

  “Which one’s your favourite?”

  “You already know.”

  He got up from the sofa and came over to kiss you before he left. His lips lingered long after the kiss ended.

  “Hermosa…”

  He was intoxicating. You put a hand up on his chest and pushed him away gently.

  “Get out of here, gorgeous. Mama’s got work to do.”

  “Oh, that’s mean. You know how I love it when you talk all husky like that.”

  “I’ll call you if I need you.”

  He walked away looking disappointed, but also kind of expectant, like he was looking forward to getting you back later. You smiled and shook your head after the door closed behind him.

  You did get a lot of work done after that, and even if you were still miles behind from catching up to where you’d been 7 weeks ago, it still felt good to have gotten back on track. Especially on what had been possibly the weirdest day of your life. Which was saying something.   Your libido stayed calm and behaved for the rest of the workday, but you did see Anita’s point in getting yourself checked over, and so you were planning on going to the med-bay.   But at 3:30 you were working on your computer, looking up rare metals for an upcoming build, and you sort of stumbled over a site for wedding-rings.   You were just gonna take a quick peak, scrolling through the various options, and getting progressively more worked up as you saw the price-tags.   You were just about to leave the page and go back to work, when an ad in the corner popped up.

  Wedding-dresses.

  Fuck.

  You clicked.

  “If you thought I was kidding about the ear, you were sorely mistaken.”

  You startled at the sound of her voice, and a puff of energy escaped you, sending papers flying everywhere.

  “Thanks a lot, Anita. Why don’t you give me a heart-attack while you’re at it?”

  “Don’t be so dramatic. It’s not my fault you were so engrossed in that screen you didn’t notice me. What were you looking at, anyway?”

  Had half an hour already passed? You just clicked on that ad a second ago… And why was she looking at you like that?

  “Just research.”

  “Mhm. Let’s go.”

  “Alright, just let me get these papers off the floor.”

  As expected, since the event seemed to have passed, the medical exam didn’t reveal anything, and Anita seemed unnecessarily peeved about that.

  “What are you so upset about? What exactly did you think they’d find?”

  “Nothing. Never mind.”

  “Never mind, my ass. You all but dragged me to this exam, and now you’re disappointed. So, spill. What’s the deal?”

  “I just hoped that maybe… you increased enthusiasm was…”

  “Was…?”

  “Alright, most women experience increased sensitivity when they’re pregnant. I just wanted to be sure.”

  You sort of half froze midway through pulling your pants back on, and your hands involuntarily went to your abdomen.

  “Oh… I never even considered…”

  “I’m sorry, niña. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “No, I’m not upset. God, I don’t even know what I am.”

  You finished dressing and sat down on a chair, letting your head fall into your hands.

  “Eight months ago, I was just a designer, going on a fucking vacation. Now, I don’t even know what the hell I am anymore, much less what to do. Every time I think I’m starting to get a handle on things, something else happens and I’m lost again.”

  She tapped your leg with her cane, ushering you to look at her.

  “What you are, is my son’s fiancé. My granddaughter’s adoptive mother. You’re smart, highly capable and stubborn, kind and caring, but abrasive when the situation requires it. You’re everything you need to be. And that’s all you ever really need to know about yourself.”

  You drew a deep breath.

  “Do you think he made the right choice? With me?”

  “Yes. Yes, I do.”

  “Thank you.”

  You called Marcus to let him know how the exam had gone, and he was just about to pick up Missy, so since you had your own car you told him you’d race him home.   But you decided to stop by Amanda’s house on the way. You wanted to talk to both of them, but her place was closer.

  When you walked in at home, Missy was in the living room playing a video-game with Noodles, A Capella and Wild Card. It had been a while since she’d had any friends over, and you smiled when you saw how much fun she was having.

  “Hey, Alma! Wanna see me crush these guys for the second time?”

  “Any day of the week, angel, but I gotta talk to your dad right now.”

  “Okay, suit yourself!”

  You laughed and walked into the kitchen to find him opening pizza-boxes and distributing slices onto plates.

  “Hey, sweetheart, sorry, this wasn’t planned, they just spontaneously asked if they could come over as I was picking her up.”

  “Honey, why are you explaining yourself?”

  “I don’t know… it’s just, with the weird day you’ve had and how you seemed a little down after the exam, I thought that maybe you weren’t quite in the mood for a house full of teenagers.”

  “No matter how I feel, Missy’s entitled to enjoy herself with her friends. I would never wanna deprive her of that.”

  “No, I know. I just worry about you.”

  “Yeah, I do too, sometimes. But that’s usually when I remember I have you, and it all feels better.”

  He smiled and asked you to help him carry out the food to the living room, and once you’d done that, you sat down at the dinner table to eat yourselves.

  “So… I may have googled wedding-dresses today.”

  He beamed.

  “Really? Did you manage to narrow down any preferences? Don’t give me any specifics, by the way.”

  “I did, I think. Or, at least, I found a lot of stuff I didn’t like, so I guess that helps. I don’t know, I feel like I need to see them, touch them, to actually get a sense of what I like.”

  He beamed even more.

  “I really like the sound of this. I’m sure Amaire would come with you if you asked.”

  “Yeah, I kind of already asked them to, this weekend.”

  He was fucking radiating joy at that point. He got up and took your hand, leading you to the bedroom and closing the door behind you.   Then he reached into his pocket and fished something out. His smile turned just a hint of insecure, as he held up the ring he’d chosen for you.   It was gold-plated steel, with a single row of small diamonds sunk into the centre of the band all the way around. A sturdy and solid piece that wouldn’t break or lose its shape.   While you admired it, he started trying to explain his choice.

  “I know you’re not much of a jewellery-girl, so I figured we’d skip the whole engagement ring plus wedding-band. You can wear it right away if you want and then just take it off before the ceremony, or you can wait and put it on then, either way is fine with me. That is, if you like it? If you don’t, we’ll take it back and you can pick something else. It just felt right as soon as I saw it. You’re not the frail silver band type of person, and I know you’d only get annoyed with a big rock getting in the way and getting caught in stuff. You work with your hands and so I figured something sturdy but elegant. I have a matching one just without the diamonds. Please say something before I pass out from oxygen-depravation…”

  “I love it.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Really.”

  You both beamed.

  “Can I put it on you?”

  “You better.”

  He slipped it on your finger and it fit perfectly. And for the first time it really sunk in that you were gonna marry this man. The love of your life.   It felt like a really long time until the kids went home and Missy went to bed, with her headphones on.

  “I totally forgot, we need to go bed-shopping, honey.”

  “I don’t know, a mattress on the floor might be preferable until we know the extent of your ‘heat-situation’.”

  “Mm. Good point. Although, breaking in a new bed is always fun.”

  “Hermosa.”

  “What?”

  “Stop talking and get undressed. I’ve been waiting for this all night.”

Authors’ Note: I love criticism, don’t be shy to let me know if there’s anything you like/don’t like/have questions about.

@blueeyesatnight​​ @farfromjustordinary​ @allmyspideys​ @hrk-fic-recs​ @strawberryperegrine @lucrezia-thoughts​ @computeringturtle @sarahjkl82-blog

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno fic #we can be heroes #we can be heroes fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

[herrandomnesss]

There's a bipolar worm in my coffee and she has long suicidal shower thoughts

There's a bipolar worm in my coffee and she has long suicidal shower thoughts that make no sense, yet are the epitome of wisdom. 

She quotes my son "Oh, my cunt! I have a great idea" and goes on a rollercoaster ride from the silliest of thoughts to the secret behind our existence. But every time she starts to burp out an idea, it slips, and she gets mad and begins the longest of rants; all in my head. 

The other day, she threw it all in my face: It's not that you want to die that's making you suffer, quite the contrary; it's that you want to live. It hurt so much to hear the truth put out this bluntly that I almost slit my throat immediately. Next, I was giving this massive it's-not-freedom-from;-it's-freedom-to and we-shouldn't-be-victims-even-when-victimized trends a chance, reading one too long article about how we shouldn't care about what holds us captive and instead, focus on what we yearn to do. 

I finish my white-man-status pursuit with an article about how we linger to the victim status, which holds us back from healing. The bitch worm then slapped me in the face, "Oh my fucking cunt, are you trying to be a Karen now, Sarah?! Go meet them deadlines so that you don't lose your living."

Why is the warm so mean? Why can't she let me buy white-man thoughts designed for my consumption?

“And what's with all that macho 'You're strong and brave' put out as feminist whatever? Why is your value judged by some misogynistic standard? And why do you keep on buying in?"

Silenced, I shake my head, hoping she'd leave. But the worm has super powers, she insists "You're no chicken for not wanting to tell your story." I let out a sigh of relief. 

But this is one diabolical sly worm, she shits on my parade, "You're still a chicken though. You can't voice out your anger that all you want to do is say how what happened to you made you feel; how despite the fact that it doesn't define you, it made things different, thus making you different."

Ugh, I'm getting homicidal now. 

She interrupts, "But it's OK to be a chicken anyways. Now go make me an omelette, you useless bitch."

I spill my coffee in the sink. The silly worm leaves my coffee as I do. And jumps into my brain. "Did you know that some woman made her husband a sandwich, served it to him, then killed him before he could eat it?"

I feel scared. This worm is insane. And I could really lose her help; I'm insane enough on my own. I reason with her. She says "Fine, you're stupid anyways. I'm going to sleep."

I count to 10, take a deep breath, fix my kid some food, then start to sob uncontrollably. I go to the bathroom to have some privacy. I watch some porn and detachedly cum. I'm not sure if that's because I'm on a full bipolar low or if the porn was a lot like all the awkwardly bad sex hetero humans have. And all the good sex hetero humans have doesn't seem to make up for the bad that sometimes, with triggers all around, I just don't want to be touched.

I feel queerer these days; contemplating on whether things would have been different for me if I had had the chance to better connect with my queer side earlier in my life. 

"Hahaha, are you coming out now?" The evil bitch woke up and she's back to sodomise. Joke's on you, stupid worm. I came out a long time ago.

"You're quite funny. I'm glad you believe that. Tell me, Karen-wanna-be, wasn't this one good example of the freedom-from/the freedom-to fake dilemma?"

My heart is now burning with hatred for this worm.

My kid cries for help and saves me. It's something silly, but I comfort him anyways. He feels better. Then he starts fake crying. I ask him why he's being overdramatic in the most understanding tone I could summon. It's fun to be overdramatic, he says. The nasty worm interrupts again, "now we know who he takes after."

I jump to my defense. I'm grieving, you evil bitch. "What is it exactly that you're grieving?" She interrogates. The cynical tone could not be missed. 

My mom, my dad, life as I know it, my ability to work, to have good sex, to be fun to be around. I'm not fun anymore, not even for me. And my hypomania, that too I grieve."

The worm tears my brain as she grows in size, but for some reason lowers her voice whispering "Take your meds."

I have nothing to say. I have nothing to think. My brain is now void. There's nothing there but a rusty shade of grey. "I guess you're searching for that old 'the meds will make you fat' excuse in your vacant head," she eyes me with a disgusted look that screams "How pathetic, really!"

I find myself defensive again. Do you know how people react to weight gain? My whole adult life can be summed up in two poles "Why did you let yourself gain so much weight? and "Why are you crazy? Take your meds, psycho."

And those are the kindly concerned friends. 

I just need to fuck up, worm. Why can't I fuck up anymore? I'm dwelling under pressure. I'm buried under heaps of responsibilities and I can't catch a breath. Why can't you just give me a break? After all, you're only a fragment of my imagination. I made you. Please don't make me kill you. I have enough guilt. The cross on my back is already too heavy to bear. 

She weeps. I feel awkward. Why do I always end up in the comforting shoes?

I'm not sure why you're crying now, worm, but it's ok not to be ok, I say, trying to end the situation as fast as I could. 

She senses my discomfort. It pleases her. "It's because you already fucked up but you don't know yet that I'm crying," she murmurs with a half smile. "But it's ok not to be ok, Sarah. You lost a lot and are shackled by a lot. Fucking up is the human thing to do."

She grows big arms. She hugs me. She warns me what an evil place for me this country is. She finds it very distasteful how a purely pedophilic crime was turned into a conversation about sexual harassment between adults. "I can understand how this shit is scary. I'm just a worm and I don't even exist, but I find it horrifying, too."

I feel calmer that someone understands. But I'm now all jaded and weary. Then something unexpectedly sad occurs. The worm leaves with no goodbyes. My brain cells are back and fully functioning. I feel electric waves running all over the place. I need to shut it down again. Where did all the grey blank walls go?

I keep rushing around my brain, searching for the turn-off button, to no avail.

I finally find a goodbye note from my foe and friend saying "It's OK not to be OK."

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Quarantine

Summary: After an accident at work leaves the reader exposed to a dangerous virus, she has has to spend two weeks in quarantine with her ex-boyfriend, Dean...

Pairing: Doctor!Dean x Nurse!reader

Square: Accidental Confession

Word Count: 2,700ish

Warnings: language, angst, fluff

A/N: Written for @spngenrebingo​

“Two weeks!” you said, a pair of gloved hands pointing for you to continue walking down the hall. “You can’t stick me in quarantine for that long!”

“It’s just a precaution, mam’,” said the man in the sealed up tight rubber suit. You groaned, following him down the hall until you rounded a corner, spotting someone else sitting in the room you were going to be stuck in.

“I am not sharing a room with him for two weeks!” you said.

“Get in the room mam,” he said. You whined but walked ahead, knowing you had no other option. You saw Dean tilt his head up from one of the beds as you were led through a pair of special doors that sealed behind you. Another opened and you entered the room, yet another pair of doors sealing behind you.

“You have got to be kidding me,” said Dean, standing up and going to the door. “I want my own room!”

“There’s only the one room. You both have to stay in there for the next two weeks,” said the man through the glass wall. “You were given instructions on how to get anything you need and will be provided food on a regular schedule or at request. You will be monitored from the other window bay.”

“I already hate this,” you groaned, kicking at the door you knew wasn’t opening anytime soon. The man walked away and that small hallway quickly went black, your focus going to the wall of glass windows with people moving around on the other side.

“I got an idea. We don’t talk to each other,” said Dean.

“Fine with me.”

12 Hours Later

The light in the window bay was dimmer as only one woman sat behind a desk outside. It was late and you figured most people were gone home. Or they’d listened to Dean’s complaints to give the two of you at least a little privacy. He was laying on one of the hospital beds, tossing a ball against the far wall and catching it. You couldn’t stop pacing the room though, couldn’t get yourself to relax.

“You’re not claustrophobic. Why are you freaking out?” he asked without looking at you.

“Maybe because I potentially have a horrifying disease with no cure and am going to die very painfully,” you said.

“You always worried too much,” said Dean, tossing the ball over your head as you walked past.

“You were the worrier, not me,” you said.

“What were you doing up on the fifth floor anyways?” asked Dean, pausing when you didn’t answer. “You weren’t...coming to see me, were you?”

“As if. Coffee machine on fourth was broken,” you said. “No one ever goes to the doctors lounge on fifth so-“

“So that’s how we both got exposed to the lab accident down the hall,” he said, tossing the ball again. “Why don’t those assholes have to be stuck in here?”

“They were wearing suits and are being monitored at a secondary location,” said the woman over the intercom, both of you jumping.

“Eavesdropping much? So what, are we in the dying room?” asked Dean. The woman gave Dean a long look before she flipped off a switch, the intercom quiet again. “Well that answered that question.”

“What? You aren’t afraid?” you asked Dean.

“Not really,” he said. “I’m exposed to crap everyday and I never so much as get a cold. I’ll take my chances that I’ll be just fine.”

“So...you seeing anyone?” you said. Dean narrowed his eyes. “Or should I say, sleeping with anyone?”

“I can sleep with whoever I want,” he said.

“Sure. Just this time, make sure not to cheat on the poor girl,” you said.

“Is that why we broke up? You actually think I cheated on you?” he asked as he sat up. “I remember trying to talk to you about it but you just left, moved out while I was at work, never said a word to me again.”

“I knew you’d lie,” you said.

“You’re so fucking dumb. It’s a good thing we did end things,” he said.

“Don’t be mad because you got caught,” you said.

“Sure, whatever. I’m a cheater,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Don’t try to talk to me about it or anything.”

“I saw the texts, idiot,” you spat back.

“I was planning a fucking surprise for you, idiot,” growled Dean.

“A fancy restaurant and hotel room? What, the ‘I’m dumping you for another woman’ surprise?” you scoffed.

“More like the ‘can my friend put that crap on her credit card so you don’t find out’ surprise,” he said.

“Nice excuse,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“It’s the truth,” he said.

“Yeah. I totally see why you would suddenly start acting shady and have other women buy hotel rooms for you,” you said.

“I was gonna ask you to marry me you dumbass. I was going to surprise you, go way overboard and all that romantic shit. But I guess I’m just some cheating scumbag that was wrong about the kind of woman I wanted to marry if she wouldn’t even talk to me about it,” he said.

You swallowed hard, staring at him.

“Oh? Got nothing to say?” he said.

“Why didn’t you tell me that?” you said.

“Why did you assume I was a bad guy? You didn’t let me explain,” he said.

“I’m going to bed,” you said, plopping down on the mattress with your back to him.

You woke up with a headache, Dean quietly reading for most of the morning. By lunch you felt sweaty and were making excuses to run to the bathroom.

“Hey,” said Dean, making you jump in the shower when he came inside.

“What?” you asked, wrapping your arms around yourself. You peered around the shower wall at him, Dean closing the door behind him.

“You’re sick,” said Dean, reaching a hand out to your forehead.

“Don’t touch me. I might kill you,” you said, turning away.

“You aren’t that kind of sick. You’re anxious and it’s making you feel crappy which isn’t good for your immune system and considering our situation, that needs to be in working order,” he said. “We stow our crap for now, be civil.”

“I’m mad at me, not you,” you said.

“Well ease up before you actually get sick,” said Dean.

“We have worked in the same hospital for the past six months and you never once thought about coming to me?” you asked.

“I thought about it but...I thought you didn’t want me anymore. I was trying to respect it,” he said.

“You were gonna marry me?” you asked.

“Maybe it’s better this happened. We realized the kind of people we are,” he said.

“Yeah. I’m an idiot,” you said, resting your head against the shower wall.

“Even if you thought I lied, why didn’t you say something?” he asked.

“Dean-”

“You literally can’t run away from this conversation,” he said, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the door. “Talk.”

“Heather’s...pretty,” you said with a shrug. “I figured you were bored with me and wanted someone...better.”

“Heather is my friend and that is all she is,” said Dean. “You still didn’t answer my question.”

“I didn’t want you to humiliate me, alright? Everyone already knows I dropped out of the residency program because I couldn’t hack it. If you cheated on me with the pretty girl in our year too…” you said, cursing to yourself. “I wound up becoming a nurse. I couldn’t even-”

“Hey. A patient attacked you when your resident didn’t say anything about him being a psych case. Everyone understood when you didn’t want to be in med school anymore,” said Dean.

“Leave me alone, Dean. Please.”

Three Days Later

You were physically feeling better, the doctors saying that five days with no strange tests results yet was a good sign. But you were still stuck with Dean and he was doing his best to get you to talk again.

“I would never cheat on you, you know. I was yours til the day I died,” said Dean. “You just left.”

“I know that, Dean,” you gritted out, squeezing your stress ball for the millionth time that day.

“I can’t get over the fact you thought I cheated,” he said.

“Oh yeah. Well, you’re only a top surgical student and handsome and smart and funny and a bunch of other shit and we both know you settled for me because your mom was hounding you,” you said.

“You really think I thought so little of you?” he said.

“I think I’m stuck in here with you and I want to be on the other side of the planet right about now,” you said.

“You’ve thought I cheated on you for sixth months,” he said. “I know how you can twist things and let them get to you. I bet that one took the cake.”

“Just stop talking. Please,” you said, throwing your pillow over your head.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because it was easier to think it was your fault but it wasn’t, it was mine and on top of still not knowing if I’m going to die, I have all that guilt suddenly on me so I’m sorry I’m not in a chatty mood,” you said, curling up into a ball.

“Are you crying?” he asked.

“No,” you shot back, knowing you were two seconds from losing it. You swore you’d never cry over him again. But you felt a shudder run through you and then you were burying your face in your pillow, trying to take deep breaths.

“Y/N,” said Dean, a hand suddenly on your back. “It’s alright. I’ll shut up about it.”

“You never could stand it when I cried,” you said, wiping your face off. The bed dipped behind you, Dean’s back pressing up against yours.

“Well we both fucked up. I can’t be pissed at you for not talking to me when I gave up on trying to talk too,” he said, rubbing the spot between your shoulder blades.

“Don’t make me feel better,” you said.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because you can’t be so forgiving,” you said.

“There you go, assuming things about me again,” he said but there was no malice in it. Neither one of you said anything more until they started to dim the lights out in the hall. Dean went back to his own bed but he let you have his extra blanket, something he used to do when you were having bad days.

You sighed as you curled up into the thing, willing yourself to sleep.

“Have you been on a date since…” said Dean, tossing the ball to you from the other side of the room the next day.

“Nope. You?” you asked.

“Nope. Hard to find someone willing to deal with random shifts and my unique personality features,” he said. You laughed as you threw the ball back, Dean smiling.

“Unique personality features. I like that,” you said.

“Beats labeling yourself as a self-depreciator,” he said. “Girls aren’t attracted to that.”

“You beat yourself up too much,” you said.

“That’s something we always had in common,” he said. “Never seemed to scare you away though.”

“I see something in you that you can’t. Stuff you hate, I like,” you said with a shrug.

“I lost a patient a few months back. I could have really used you around,” said Dean after a moment.

“My dog died. Well, my parents dog,” you said.

“Skippy? You loved that dog,” he said.

“What are we doing Dean? We aren’t a couple anymore,” you said.

“Maybe we can try being friends again,” he said. “If I end up dying, I’d rather do it knowing we were friends again.”

“I thought you said you weren’t scared,” you said.

“I lied,” said Dean, tossing the ball back to you. “Friends?”

“No. I don’t deserve that,” you said.

“I thought I was the self-depreciating one,” he said. “Come on.”

“Okay,” you said, rolling over on your bed to face him. He gave you a smile from his own, your eyes shutting after a minute. “You know the patient wasn’t your fault, right?”

“Yeah. But it’s my job to save ‘em,” he said. “I don’t want to talk about work. Hey, did you ever go to Europe during the summer like you were planning?”

“No. I didn’t want to go,” you said.

“You were so excited though. What happened?” he asked.

“I was so excited to go with you. I never made reservations, just went home to my parents for a week instead,” you said.

“I’m leaving the hospital,” said Dean. You opened your eyes, Dean’s hair falling down over his forehead where it was jammed against the pillow. “Going to do a family practice. One of the docs over there retired and it being a family practice and all that, the benefits from the state, they pretty much pay your student loan off for you. They need more of ‘em. Plus there’s less stress, normal work hours...there’s an opening for a nurse there too. I was thinking of recommending this chick.”

“Who?” you asked.

“Who do you think?” he said. “You hated night shifts from day one of med school. What’s the harm?”

“Dean.”

“Y/N.”

“Slow. We can’t…we need to try and be friends first,” you said.

“Alright and we can be work friends too. We live, promise you’ll consider it,” he said.

“I promise,” you said.

“Okay. I can live with that.”

Three Weeks Later

“Dr. Winchester,” said Sally who’d been showing you around the office. “This is nurse Y/L/N. Today’s her first day. Dr. Winchester just started earlier this week.”

“Dr. Winchester hates being called doctor, don’t you,” you said with a smile.

“I keep telling Sally that but she don’t listen,” teased Dean. “Y/N and I go way back.”

“Oh really? That’s great. Dean you mind showing Y/N around the rest of the way? I got a toddler in three waiting for a lollipop,” said Sally.

“Sure thing,” said Dean, smiling at you once she took off. “So...glad to still see you around and kicking.”

“We both got clean bills of health. They said it was stress that made me feel crappy during it,” you said, Dean humming. “You uh, like it here?”

“Yeah. There’s not that competition bullshit we dealt with. No cliques and we all get to go home everyday at 4:30. It’s awesome,” he said.

“Wow, eight hour days. Not sure what’ll you do with having a life again,” you teased.

“Was thinking of asking this nurse if she wanted to come over for dinner tonight,” he said. You stared at him, Dean smiling. “I got your favorite pasta.”

“I thought we said friends,” you said.

“Yeah well I changed my mind. I was dumb, you were dumb. We didn’t talk and I’m not throwing away the best thing that ever happened to me over a misunderstanding. I’m not ready to be proposing right now but give me a few months. I just want to make you dinner again,” he said.

“I don’t know if I trust myself not to hurt you like that again,” you said.

“I trust you. Please. One date,” he said.

“...You get those breadsticks too?” you asked.

“Duh,” he said, biting his bottom lip.

“Alright. Six?” you asked.

“It’s a date, sweetheart.”

#spngenrebingo #supernatural #spn #dean x reader #one shot #dean fanfiction #spn fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester one shot #dean one shot #supernatural reader insert #au #doctor!dean #doctor!dean x reader

[addictedtoredemption]

Poop Sock

It’s November 14th , 2019. I had just woken up, and it was time for the usual morning pee. As I pull down my pants and go to sit down I brace myself for the cold steel metal that soon will be touching my bare skin. The initial shock of the brisk coolness fades, and my eyes gaze over to the side of the toilet, and I see a gray frayed sock that has been tied in a knot. I think to myself, “this must have been left here by someone before me. Yuck, that’s fucking gross.” I contemplate whether I should throw it away. I hope to myself that I won’t be here long enough for it to matter. Hopefully I will leave today, and this sock won’t matter. Why bother throwing it away? “No, I better just get it out my sight, plus I don’t want them to think I have something extra or that I am not picking up after myself.” I grab the sock between my pointer finger and thumb and the oh so familiar “this is fucking gross” scrunched up face is on full display. That’s weird, it’s heavy, what the hell is in here? I don’t want to know. I toss it in the trash, and hear it thud against the brown plastic bin. I sit down on the blue mat on the floor.

I haven’t cried much yet. I’m still in shock. How did I get here? Why do I do this to myself? Why can’t I just play by the fucking rules? I hear the slamming of the thick steel door, and I hear the corrections officer yell, “Food! Top tier.” Ladies begin rushing down the stairs. It’s wave of orange jumpsuits that form a long line down one side of the commons area of Mod 13. Mod 13 is the women’s minimum-security housing for inmates. Definition of inmate: any of a group occupying a single place of residence especially: a person confined (as in a prison or hospital.) Inmate- Jenna West, 34, wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, nurse, and now inmate. In jail, you are none of those other things, you are inmate. “Inmates line up for food, inmate meds are here, inmate line up for court, inmate you can use the phone, inmates you can shower, inmates it’s time for lights out.” You see, the corrections officers don’t know my story, they don’t really care. They are here to earn their paycheck and go home. They see me simply as another criminal, piece of shit, and deservedly here to serve out time for the deviant ways I have betrayed society. I stare at the women in line waiting for the slop that is to be served on scratched up, sometimes clean brown trays. They hold their brown cups in their hand hoping that by the time they get up to the front the juice won’t be gone. I use the term juice lightly, as it is a cup of water with a splash of flavoring. As they wait for their food they laugh, chat, braid each other’s hair, and seem oblivious to their current situation. It enrages me that they can be having a good time. Do they not realize this isn’t summer camp? We are in jail! “Bottom tier, let’s go.” I grab my cup and walk across the bright white floor to take my place in line. I am careful not to push my way in and try to remain unseen. That is until “Inmate! Are you forgetting something?” I don’t even look up; it doesn’t occur to me that she would be talking to me. “Hello?!, Inmate orange needs to be on.” I look down and I still have my brown t-shirt on. I feel like it’s the first day of school when you inevitably miss the memo on what’s what, and now you are the center of attention. “Sorry, I’ll go get it.” I quickly walk over to myself cell and grab my orange shirt and walk back to the line. I get my tray of food. It’s brown mystery meat. I’m told it is hamburger. A piece of white bread, a plastic spoon with ½ teaspoon of ketchup, a potato side, carrots, and cookie. I eat the cookie. The hamburger is completely inedible. The potatoes have no flavor. The carrots are cold. I don’t have much of an appetite anyway. I begin to think about my family. How worried my mom is. How mad my husband is. How clueless my kids are as to where Mommy is. I just want to be home. I want to be watching my two-year-old little girl playing with her toys, watching Pink Fong, and running to me for the occasional snuggle or kiss. I want to look outside and see my son, 10, walking down the hill from school. I want to greet him at the door and ask how his day is. I want to have some funny banter with my husband over texts. I want to give him a kiss when he comes home from work. I want to sit down on the couch with him and watch our shows. I want to sleep in bed next to him. Oh, a bed-I would give anything for a bed. I had dreams almost every night I was in jail about finding pillows in secret passageways. I just wanted a fucking pillow. All we are given is a 1-inch-thick blue mat with one end a little thicker for what one might call a pillow. It’s a stark contrast from my king size bed, with a 2in memory foam thick mattress toppers, Casper pillow, and down comforter. I don’t get a sweet tap on my shoulder at 2 am from my sweet Stella, asking if she can sleep with me. Instead, I lay awake most hours of the night counting the white bricks that make up my small cell, all 252 of them. I am anxious, I am sad, and I am defeated. During phone time, I call my mom just to have a small amount of comfort. She hears the pain and sorrow in my

voice. I know it’s selfish of me to call her, I know that calling her, and letting her hear me cry is painful, but I can’t help it. I need that comfort, I need to hear her voice, and I need a moment away from my reality. I call my husband, Casey, next. I ask if he has spoke to my lawyer, if he found out when I might get out, and I ask what he told Jaxson. His tone with me is firm, and his answers are concise. I don’t find much comfort in talking to him, as I know that he is angry with me. I’ve let him down. I’ve made him the sole caretake for our children for no one knows how long. I’ve placed my job in jeopardy. I’ve embarrassed him. There are few family members, and friends that know of my situation at this point, and he now has to tell them his wife, mother of his children is in jail so he might need some help with the kids. He tells me he told Jax, that Mom had to go on a work trip, and she is somewhere where there is no service. Jax asked, “Why would she just leave? Why wouldn’t she say goodbye? When will she be back.” These feelings my son had to feel because of my poor choices is just another ripple of many ripples in this giant ocean of the clusterfuck I have made of my life. The burden my husband had to bear is one of many he has had to endure because he married an addict. The pain and disappointment my mother and father felt is only worsened by images of their youngest daughter in jail away from her family, and there is nothing they can do to help.

I do find some comfort in that I don’t have a cellmate. I get the bottom bunk so I don’t have to try to hoist myself up on the top one. That comfort is quickly taken away on day two of my jail stint. Midday on November 14th a pretty brunette girl storms through the cell door into my cell. She says, “Hey, I am your roommate, can I have the bottom bunk? I just had a baby, and I can’t climb up there.” She could have given me any reason as to why she wanted the bottom bunk, and I would have conceded. She seemed like this wasn’t her first rodeo, and I wasn’t about to start any bad blood with someone I’d be in an 8X10 room with for the foreseeable future. Rachelle, had just been moved from the medical infirmary back to general population, “gen pop.” She had her baby only three days early. She gave birth under police custody, she spent 24 hours with her baby before she was shipped back to jail. I felt sad for her, and I felt angry for her. How can the system be so heartless that they rip a newborn baby from their mother just hours after birth? She clearly isn’t a murderer or armed robber; she is in minimum security. What could she have done that was so terrible? I’d later find out that she was caught shoplifting from a Thrift world Store. She was nearly 7 months pregnant at the time, and when they searched her, they found meth in her bra strap. They didn’t give her a bond because they wanted to ensure the baby had a fighting chance. She was to serve out the rest of her pregnancy in jail, and after the baby was born they would then decide her fate. This girl gave zero shits about anything. She quickly rummaged through her clothes- two orange pairs of shirts and pants, two underwear, two sports bras, and two pair of socks. The standard wardrobe for Douglas County inmates. She threw of her orange shirt, and through her brown shirt I could see two wet sports where her nipples would be. She was leaking, engorged, and in pain. She threw off her bra and exposed her bare breast, then asked me what I think she should do? You see on top of the emotional pain of not being with her newborn, she had to endure the pain of not being able to breastfeed therefore having engorged breasts that leaked constantly causing chapped nipples that chaffed against her sport bra. She tried to put socks and toilet paper between her skin and her clothing to ease the discomfort, but it was to no avail. I looked down quickly, and just said you need to just try to keep them dry. I told her that if she had some Chapstick that it might help with the chaffing. She swapped bras and grabbed a clean shirt and continued to unpack her bags and make herself at home. She raised hell about how dirty the cell was, and ranted, “this is fucking disgusting, how do people live like this?” She ran out of the cell to grab cleaning supplies. Cleaning supplies? I had no idea we could just go get cleaning supplies to make things a little more livable. I assured her had I known, I would have cleaned, and I told her I was hoping I was leaving later that day, so I didn’t see the point. But I picked up some supplies and assisted her with the cleaning of our humble abode. Once everything was in order she said, “Do you have any extra socks?” I replied, “No, only what they gave me, why?” “Because we need to make a poop sock.” What the hell is a poop sock I thought. Is it what she used to wipe her ass? Does she poop in it in and throw it away, or reuse it? My mind mulled over what in the actual fuck is a poop sock. Turns out a poop sock is what I had thrown away earlier. You see I had no idea that that poop sock was a gift. A glorious gift that one inmate bestowed on future inmates in order to lessen our suffering. She explained that a poop sock is when you take a bar of soap, and crumble it into many pieces, let it dry out, and then stuff it into a sock and tie a knot on the top to hold it all in. Then when you take a number two you beat the sock against the wall and shake it all around you. A dust of soapy freshness then fills the air. A poop sock is a jail made bathroom air

freshener, and it was genius. I walked over to the trash and fumbled through the dirty paper towels we had just used to clean and pulled out our poop sock. Relief and delight washed over Rachelle’s face. Turns out she was an avid poop sock user, as I would soon be choking on soap flake dust every time she went to the bathroom. She would bang that thing against the wall and violently shake all around her while she used the bathroom. I couldn’t help but giggle because she looked like a priest throwing holy water on someone the way she shook that gray ratty sock all over the place. Day two, and I was learning the jailhouse lingo, and already impressed with what these ladies could come up with. I later told my mom, well at least this experience builds character.

I ended up only spending 7 days in jail. Some people respond to that, “Oh my god, 7 days? How did you get through that? I would die.” While others, like people I was on drug court with, would reply, “Ah, 7 days, man, that’s nothing. I lost 7 years while I was in prison.” It’s all about perspective.

#opiate addiction #recovering addict #jail #incarceron #addictive #funny stuff #nursing #mental illness #sobriety #recovery

[themarveledwriter]

First Encounters

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Warnings: Angst. Panic attacks. Blood. Cursing. Bad writing.

Summary: Sebastian runs into a girl and her dog in the park. She panics.

A/N: Sooo, I’m not dead. I also am out of the hospital! I wrote this in the hospital while feeling GREAT on pain meds so who knows if its good... Anyway. I have A LOT more of this story if you are interested, maybe it could become a series. Also if anyone has a better name... I am open to something different.

You were walking through Stuyvesant Park in Manhattan. It was a smaller park with nice walkways you liked to walk with your Golden Retriever, Winter . You had tried to take him on walks in Central Park when you first moved to New York, but it was way too busy for both you and your dog.

See, Winter was missing a front leg, hence the name. You had always been a Marvel fan, reading first edition Captain America comics with your Grandpa, who was a World War II vet. 

~Flashback~

You had been looking for a service dog for months, to help with chronic pain as well as your anxiety and depression, but you didn’t want to buy a puppy from a store or a breeder. You had almost given up hope on finding a puppy to train when you decided to visit a shelter a few hours outside of the city.

You asked the girl at the front desk if they had any younger dogs, since you needed to be able to train it, and she led you too a few different cages. The first few were all small breeds, Pomeranian, Terriers, Pugs… And while you would have gladly taken all of them if possible, you had to explain to the worker that you were looking for a larger breed to become a service dog. When you said so, her smile widened before dropping from her face.

“We do have one large breed, he’s a Golden Retriever but I don’t think he’d be that great as a service animal.”  The sweet lady said as she walked you out of that room and down a hall. “He’s an amazing pup, he is only seven weeks old and was dropped off a month ago, left in a crate by the front door, we didn’t see him until the next morning… his eyes weren’t even open yet.” She opened a door with a ‘Staff Only’ sign, “We had to separate him from the other dogs, even the small ones. He does great with them, he wants to play and is super friendly, but the other dogs picked on him” She points toward the only occupied cage in the room. 

You looked in the cage and instantly fell in love. There was a little puppy cuddled up in a bed way too big for him, sleeping. When you touched the cage doors, his eyes opened and locked with yours. 

He had two different colored eyes, one brown and one blue. Once he had fully woken up, he tried to approach the cage doors. That's when you realize why the employee didn’t think he’d be a good service dog, why he had to be separated from the other dogs.

He was missing his front left leg. 

It was wrapped in bright red gauze. You looked up at the employee, “What happened to him?” You said, your heart breaking for this little puppy. 

She looked sad, obviously expecting you to not want to adopt him, “We aren’t sure. We think he was probably used as a bait dog because his eyes. He’s a purebred goldie, but the eyes would be called an ‘imperfection’. He’s pretty much totally healed though. The stitches came out two days ago, and the only reason it’s wrapped is because he doesn’t really know how to walk on only three legs yet.”

Your heart was shattered, “Can I hold him?” You say, looking over at the lady. 

She walks over and unlocks the cage, pulling out the little bundle of fluff whose tail starts wagging the second the door opened up.

Right when she hands him to you he reaches his little head up and licks your cheek. You locked eyes with him, his brown and blue meeting your e/c. 

“I’ll take him.”

He was the best dog ever, given the name Winter because of your affinity for Marvel and his lack of a front leg. He quickly learned how to properly run again and became an amazing service dog. 

~End of Flashback~

You and Winter went on a walk at least once a week, as per request by your therapist. You tried your best to always do it, even if it was just a lap around the block.

You weren’t paying attention, letting Winter lead you. You knew he wouldn’t lead you off the path. 

But you weren’t expecting to get rammed into my a brick wall of a man. 

The next thing you knew you were flat on your ass and Winter was licking your cheek, something he often did when you dissociated. 

“I am so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going, are you okay?” You could hear a familiar sounding voice above you, but you were still in shock.

Dazedly you reply, “Yeah… Yeah I’m okay” Winter finally stops licking you and instead rubs his face against yours. The feeling of his rough collar rubbing against you snapping you out of it.

“Oh my gosh, I am so so sorry,” You say while quickly standing up, black spots taking over your vision causing you to stumble right into the man you already ran into once.

“I can’t beli-” You cut yourself off as you lock eyes with the person who is now holding you in his arms. “Yo-yourrr… Sebastian Stan. Holy… HOLY SHIT.” You say as you push yourself out of his arms. 

When you are an appropriate distance away, you realize what you’d just done.

You could feel your breathing pick up, not quite hyperventilating but quickly getting to that point.

Looking everywhere but his eyes you say, “I am so so sorry. I can’t believe I did that. Winter usually keeps me from hitting people and I didn’t even realize I- I… I can’t breath.” You didn’t feel the panic attack coming until it was too late.

You felt Winter pull out of your grip, running towards the nearest person as he was trained to do when you got like this, it just so happened that the nearest person was Sebastian, the main cause of your panic attack. 

You felt hands on your shoulders, leading you forward towards a bench. Once you were sat down you felt Winter pull your medication pack off of your backpack. You had this specially made for him so that he could give the bag to the person you were with, and they could give you the pills. 

Sebastian was talking but there was no sound reaching your ears until you hear the pill bottle shake. He held one of your pills in front of you, and you shakily tried to grab it, knocking it on the floor. He got another one out and put it directly in your mouth.

You sat there for what felt like hours, trying to ground yourself. Winter was licking your face and your hands were buried deep in his fur. You weren’t even sure Sebastian was still there until the attack subsided, and you felt his hand rubbing comforting circles on your back. 

“I’m- I am so… sorry.” You choke out between gasps for air.

“Shhhh, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s fine. What’s your name?” Sebastian says, his other hand reaching and petting Winter, who was now investigating the person touching his mom since the crisis was averted. 

“Y/n, my names Y/n.” You say, looking up at Sebastian and trying to keep your voice steady and breaths calm.

Sebastian smiles at you, now that he can see your face, “Y/n, that’s a really pretty name. I’m Sebastian, but I am guessing you already knew that.” Is he blushing?

You remembered shoving him after recognizing his face, right before you had a panic attack and broke down in front of him… Oh God no.

You gape at him before quickly looking away, trying to speak but not being able to. 

“Hey no, no it’s okay. You did nothing wrong, I ran into you!” He quickly says, trying to make you feel more comfortable.

“But I wasn’t watching where I was going,” You whimper.

You were so embarrassed, -What the fuck is wrong with me?- You think, looking towards Winter when tears well up in your eyes.

Sebastian grabs your hand and tugs, forcing you to look at him as a tear makes its way down your face, following the tear tracks from your panic attack “Hey! Nothing is wrong with you!”

Shit you must have said that out loud. 

For some reason this made you mad, mad at yourself and your body, but you took it out on him. 

You could tell when your facial expression changed to anger, as he looked even more concerned, “Nothing’s wrong? Nothing’s wrong!? I not only just rammed into you, but had a full blown panic attack in front of you because you’re famous! You had to feed me my fucking medicine and comfort me while I am sobbing and snotting all over! Do you know how embarrassed I am!? Why did you even stay?”

He looked at you with a confused face, “What do you take me for? An asshole that leaves a girl in distress just sitting in the middle of the park? Y/n… I would never do that to anyone, especially someone that I caused to have a panic attack.” He looks ashamed and it instantly wipes away your anger.

You both sat in silence for almost ten minutes, the only noise coming from the park around you and Winter, who was still panting from calming you down.

“You didn’t cause my panic attack.” You whisper.

Sebastian looks at you, “What?” You lock eyes with him, “You didn’t cause my panic attack. I have really bad mental… issues, and today has just been a bad day. I thought I could work through it but I knew I shouldn’t come out today.”

“Y/n you shouldn’t have to worry about that. You seem like a sweet girl and I am really sorry you are going through this. But… It seems like you have a pretty good friend to help you out.” He says, pointing towards Winter. “He’s a Golden Retriever right? What’s his name?”

You groan internally, “Ugh, this is so awkward.” You say, giggling a little when you see his confused face. He tilted his head to the side, a lot like a confused puppy. “His name’s Winter… I thought it was the perfect name since he’s missing his left front leg.”

It’s very obvious when Sebastian blushes this time, a bright red flush rushing up his neck. “Wow, so you really are a fan huh.” He says to you, your face quickly matching his, “Come here Winter, can I pet you?” 

Winter bounds up to him, excited to have a new friend. Sebastian is petting him when a group of girls with cameras show up.

They started asking him for pictures, saying how much they loved him and making you feel extremely awkward. You knew you still looked a mess from earlier, so while he was talking to his fans, you started walking the other way. Looking back once and locking eyes with him. For some reason you thought he looked sad, but you were probably just being hopeful.

~Sebastian’s POV~

Y/n.

Such a pretty name. 

Pretty name to match a pretty face, even with tears streaming down it.  He probably would have used a cheesy pick-up line on any other girl. 

But not Y/n.

Not the girl that just had a panic attack in his arms. Not the girl who cursed at him and yelled despite knowing who he was. Not the girl that named her service dog after his character.

He loved his fans, he really did, but right now they were getting on his nerves. He just wanted to talk to Y/n… To this girl he just met but was already so enamored by.

He took pictures with the girls, trying to keep his eye on Y/n’s back as she walked away. Locking eyes with her once more before she turned a corner and was blocked by the trees.

The girls surrounding him were talking, but he wasn’t really listening.

Eventually he couldn’t take it, he didn’t want to lose her. 

“I’m sorry, I really need to go. It was great to meet you!” He says to the girls surrounding him while starting to back away.

While most of his fans were understanding, there was always one that thought they were entitled to more. 

The majority of the group said their goodbyes, but one girl rolled her eyes. “Why? So you can follow that girl who was crying? What, is she your girlfriend?” She stepped closer to Sebastian, grinning. “You could just stay with me, I’m sure I am a lot more fun.”

He stepped away and turned around, “It doesn’t matter what I am doing or if I am following her or not. I need to go, enjoy your picture!”

As he ran after Y/n he heard the girl behind him make an irritated noise, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to catch up to Y/n.

Good thing he was in running gear.

~Y/n’s POV~

You were walking along the path, not really paying attention even though that is what got her into this mess. You just wanted to get to your car and go home. 

You were almost to your car when someone grabbed your shoulder. 

You may have screamed, but you definitely turned and punched the person who grabbed you square in the nose.

“Holy shit! What the fuck Y/n?” A familiar voice says, muffled through his hands that are covering his now bleeding nose and mouth.

Shit, it was Sebastian. Why the fuck did he grab you?

You ran forward and put your hand under his chin, gently tipping his face up towards yours. 

“I am so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention and you startled me!” You weren’t sure what to do, there was blood going everywhere. Winter was trying to jump up on Sebastian, sensing his pain.

Sebastian looks up, “Sorry, I shouldn’t have grabbed you. I just didn’t want you to get away from me.” You were confused, “Why? I was just heading home… I live really close to here, do you wanna come? I can clean you up and I probably have clothes there that would fit you… I kinda ruined your shirt.”

Sebastian looked up at you, “You sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Say no.

Say you changed your mind.

You give the man in front of you a small smile, “Yeah, definitely!”

Wait… What? What the fuck did you just do?

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x anxious reader #sebastian stan angst #marvel #marvel angst #angst #Bucky Barnes #Bucky angst #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagines

[pixiibells]

United States of Tara reaction fic!

Guys this was in my drafts from line 2014-15 and I never posted it. Here we go!!

Okay, so this episode aired allll the was back in 2009, but my husband and I found it on Netflix last week and we like it. I saw "Possibilities" and I thought Marshall and Jason were freaking adorable! Then we watched "Betrayal" and I really liked where it ended, prefect for a fan to pick up where it left off. I wrote this between that episode and the closer for season one. 

 Title: Revived

Author: Pixiebells

Fandom: United States of Tara, Season 1

Genre: Reaction fic to “Betrayal”

Pairing Marshall/Jason

“Did you do this?!”

Marshall looked up from his novel, as he read placidly on the lawn. The fire was out, and Kate had gone inside. The shed was now a burnt-out stub in the ground, with ash and papers soaked in water, little memories floating around, soon turning to garbage. “Oh, yeah, sorry about that. Something just came over me.” He glared at his mother.

“Oh, don’t you dare do that!” Tara growled at him. “Don’t you fucking condescend me like that!”

“So you’re mad about this?” He shot back, annoyed.

“Of course I am! You burned our fucking shed down, Marshall!”

“Oh, so you get to make irrational, stupid decisions with little to not consequence but the second I act out, it’s wrong.”

“We’re wrong either way!” she shouted. “But in my defense, I wasn’t fully aware of what I was doing. You, however, are.”

She sighed and sat down on the edge of his chair.

“Look, we both screwed up, okay? Do you really think I’m happy about all this? Do you think I like making a mess of everything I touch? Barely able to keep a job, or get through a weekend of in-laws? Or have a normal afternoon at the spa with my sister?”

“Back to self-pity, again. You’re shameless.”

She grabbed his book and threw it on the lawn, aggravated. “I’m sorry, I didn’t order extra snark with this conversation. What is your problem?”

“Right now? You. You are my problem. I really liked him, and maybe, maybe he likes me back. Do you think I was happy putting myself through that disturbing production, just to spend time with him? What kind of origin story would that be for our adopted children? ‘Your father and I met because I thought he was cute, and he thought pretending to burn in hell for perfectly valid feelings was a fun way to spend a Sunday afternoon.'”

“Oh my God, you’ve already imagined adopting kids with him?” she chucked good-naturedly, despite herself. She didn’t want to insult her son’s feelings, but that was one hell of a crush.

“Well, yeah. I’m like a wolf, or a clown fish, or whatever animals mate for life. Point is, I like one guy at a time. And when I like him, I really like him. And Jason’s not shallow like a lot of people my age. He’s rare. He’s kind of special. And he’s grown up in this totally controlling, unhealthy environment and maybe now he’ll let his guard down a little.”

“Aww, sweetie. I’m sorry.”

Tara’s anger melted away like the magazine clippings T had plastered on the walls of the shed last summer. She’d found every image of Justin Beiber she could get her hands on, and wrote “PUSSY BITCH” and “FUCK BELIEBERS” and the semi-political “DON’T TALK ABOUT ANNE FRANK LIKE THAT!” In red Sharpie all over his stupid face.

She hugged Marshall, and his anger melted just like his bike had. “I promise I’ll never make out with boys you like again.”

“You better not.” He replied in her ear, finally relaxed. They parted and he spoke again: “I’m sorry too. I know that was kinda your…place.” His guilt finally caught up to him.

“It’s fine. You know, maybe it needed to go. Maybe that was just cosmic timing. You know, my therapist basically dumped me today.”

“Really? Aww, I was trying to think of some puns or a catch phrase for you guys, like a reference to Ocean’s Eleven or something.”.

Tara smiled in appreciation. “I love how creative you are. I’ve always loved that about you. But hey, maybe it’s a chance for a new start, you know? Maybe I should get this new therapist, or  go back on the meds.”

“No, no, don’t do that just for my sake. That should be your choice, my melodrama notwithstanding.”

“Thank you. And I’d do it for us. All of us. It’s just something I’m tossing around anyway. Come on, why don’t we go inside?” she mended fences, picking up his book and handed it back to him as he got up.

“Just one more thing?”

“Yeah?”

“Was he at least a good kisser?”

“Oohh, details!” she squeaked. “Why? You wanna kiss him?”

“Already did, actually.” he beamed, content with his conquest..

“Oh, well done, playa.”

“And then he kissed back.”

“Ooooh!”

“But it was so quick I wasn’t sure. So…”

“He was all right. Not terrible, not great. Not much experience. Well,” she teasingly looked to him, “not yet.”

“Mom.” he blushed, looking away.

They had reached the kitchen by then. Kate was back up in her room and Max was washing his hands.

“OK,” Tara  breathed a sigh, “I’m gonna go change, get cleaned up. Start helping out with dinner.”

As she went upstairs, Marshall sat at the counter and struck up a conversation with Max. “Dad?”

“You and mom work things out?” he asked, pulling a roast pan out of the cupboard.

“Yeah, and I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. Just, don’t do it again, okay?”

“Okay. I am sorry.”

“You’re fine, it’s cool. Not the first fire I’ve put out today,” he remarked with a smile.

“I have kind of an important question. About Mom and her alters.”

“What’s that?” he asked, while rummaging through the freezer.

“When she’s T, and she’s hitting on some other guy, or, making out with someone half her age. How do you get over it? You guys have been together for almost 20 years. Doesn’t at least a little part of you get insanely jealous?”

“On some level, yeah.” Max agreed, sticking a bowl of water in the microwave.  “But I remind myself of a couple things. It’s temporary, it’s meaningless, and it’s not really her. To be honest, when she’s…not herself, I actually don’t really, uh…”

“Oh,” Marshall was taken aback. “So when she’s not herself, you guys don’t…”

“We agreed it was weird. So it makes it easy to disconnect.”

“That makes sense. Sorry if that was a weird question.”

“Aw, come on. We both know that’s the tip of the weird iceberg around here.” Max winked at his son.

Marshall chuckled, relived. Just then, there was a knock at the door.

“I’ll get that, you’re starting dinner,” he said, rising from his seat. Max thanked him and turned back to the microwave, hot water now ready for thawing.

He opened the door and Jason was there, looking a bit anxious.

“Oh,” Marshall’s mood immediately cooled off. He was square with his mom, but Jason didn’t exactly fight her off, and he was still hurt. 

“Sorry, my mom’s not available right now.” He contemplated closing the door, but settled on giving him an icy glare instead.

“Look, I’m really sorry. And believe me when I say I’m not interested in any…version of your mom. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. If it makes you feel any better, it was weird. And I’m not into labels or whatever, but I really do like you. And your family’s kinda cool. Hell of a lot better than mine.”

“OK, OK,” God damn, he was so cute...he couldn’t throw him away after one weird afternoon, “you’re off the hook. I might have gone a little overboard…”

“Holy shit, that was you?” Jason’s eyes widened. “Whoa…I hope I never piss you off.”

“I…got…jealous.” he stammered. “Sorry if that’s weird for you.”

“I’ll take as a…compliment.” Jason said with a shrug.

They shared a smile, relieved at last.

“So…maybe we can hang out later on?” Jason suggested. “I mean, if you still want to.”

“I do want to.” Marshall quickly replied. He still had a shot! “We’re gonna have dinner in a little while, but maybe...” he reached over and tucked back a lock of hair that has fallen over his eyes, “we could go for a walk first?”

“Sounds good to me.” Jason agreed, grinning.

“Okay.” Marshall said quickly, voice teeming with excitement.

He bounded inside and let his dad know they’d be out.

“I’ll be back for dinner,” he promised.

“No rush.” Max smiled back, reassuringly.

Marshall waltzed out the door, and they walked off, together.

THE END.

#united states of tara #season 1 #marshall/jason #what could've been #omg so cute #old post #fanfiction

[cocoascriptures]

| LIFE AFTER LIBERTY | 1. JUSTIN F. “Staring at the sky ain't gon' fix my problem...”

a/n; because they did my boy (he wasn’t always my boy tho let’s get that clear lol) dirty and we’re all wondering where life takes us after high school. So here’s a blurb? Headcanon. I’ll try and do all of them even tho no one will probably see this lmao. Inspired by Kevin abstract’s, “echo” since it reminds me of Justin.

When Justin found out he was HIV-positive on the night of prom, he automatically thought he was going to die. And of course that scared the shit out of the 17 year old.

However his doctor, Dr. Ellis Grey assures Justin and The Jensens that HIV-positive did not mean he had aids. In fact if the virus did not reach stage 3 (aids) Justin could live a normal life, with meds to control it.

Even tho his life changed drastically the night of prom, Justin would do what he needed to stay alive. He spent many of his high school years putting his life at risk and now felt like this was his punishment— or rather wake up call.

Of course he did he research with the help of clay and Mrs. Jensen but at times it felt too overbearing and he found himself snapping at the two, later apologizing, even though his family understood

Justin didn’t like to feel sorry for himself but sometimes he just needed to sit in his funk. He’d eventually snap out of it and continue fighting like he knew he could.

He made it to graduation with the support of the football team, basketball team, Clay, Jess, the rest of his friends by his side, and with old friends, Mr. and Mrs. Jensen in the stands supporting him. Sure there was a small part of him that wished his mom was here to see him walk across that stage, I mean what kid wouldn’t want their parent(s)/ guardian watching them accomplish the bullshit of high school?

His mother was another reason Justin had to beat his addiction. He had that on the back of his mind, and now this new piece of him that was part of his journey.

Justin decided to go to Sanderson university, believing that if he left Crestmont now, he would spiral. Community college was the smart route for him for right now, even though he felt like he wrote that essay for nothing, Mr. Jensen told him if he wanted to transfer he could still use that essay if he decided to go off to a four-year institution. 

With school starting in the fall, Justin spent most of his time with Jess and his friends who wouldn’t be staying in Crestmont. With clay off in Nevada with Tony for two weeks, Justin enjoyed the limited time of summer he had left with his friends

Which meant hard decisions... Jessica Davis still stayed with Justin even finding out that he tested positive. Their relationship was a lot of push and pull but Jessica seemed to want to see this through. They found love in each other. They taught each other what love is.

However with Jessica out of state, socializing between the two became scarce. Ultimately Justin and Jessica came to terms with calling it quits but still friends from a distance?

Justin needed to focus on himself and his studies. It was hard not being with the one girl he was truly in love with but he knew it was for the best and as corny as Mr. Jensen says, “if it’s truly meant to be, then you’ll two will find a way back to each other,” Justin couldn’t help but to believe that—but he didn’t hold his breath

Justin Foley Jensen, fucking hate school and had a bitter attitude towards college at the start of freshman year in high school only because he didn’t see his future there. He didn’t know where he saw himself, probably living off Bryce if he didn’t end up like his mother. Who knows? Now? Justin was glad to say he made it to college.

He had no idea what to study and didn’t like that pressure what’s so ever but was told he could start off with general studies until he figured it out. “There’s no rush,” his counselor told him. It was nice knowing that you didn’t have to have it all figured out because to Justin, he had no fucking clue. Especially after everything he went through and continues to go through.

He starts off with the basics, taking three classes. Two on campus, one online.

He goes to meetings for his addiction, therapy sessions twice a week, and even visits the counseling & psych services that are provided on campus when he feels like he needs extra help

He talks to clay almost every other day, “dude it’s like you never left, first you were a pain in my ass, now it feels like you’ve been buried up there and I can’t shit you out.” “Oh, fuck you, Justin.” “I love you man.” “Yeah, I unfortunately love you too.”

He lets his hair grow a little longer and some facial hair, to make him look a little older

He doesn’t join any clubs yet since he already has some extracurricular activities he’s handling on his own

He does however, get a job in the next town over, Alcombey, which is a total snooze fest but something he needs in order to not be tempted.

It’s A part time job at a noodle bar 15 mins from Crestmont since two of the previous jobs did not want to hire him due to his background check. “Fuck them anyway,” Zach texted, “both of those places look like five nights at Friday’s but worse. Hey, I’ll even leave them a bad review on yelp.”

Justin was glad Zach was still around, because if he wasn’t he’d probably lose his mind from being lonely. Zach decided to take a year or two off from school but their old coach was still putting his ass to work, coaching.

The two were friends before, usually gravitating towards each other when Bryce and Monty were off being the usual piece of shits that they were. In a sense they were each other’s back ups when they didn’t want to deal with the other’s foolishness but Justin and Zach could be on their bullshit too

Anyway, during this time they became a lot closer and would consider each other, “besties” zach’s words, not Justin’s.

They’d usually chat on sundays since the pair kept themselves busy during the week, Zach with coaching, and Justin juggling school, meetings, his health, and work—but they’d find time to hang out during the months

“Dude, come see fast twelve with me.” “I mean sure, I’m down for the action but how many more fucking movies are they going to make?” “Don’t question a masterpiece. It’s the best film series of all time.” “Actually it’s twilight.” “What the fuck did you just say?!” “Say I’m wrong.” “You’re wrong. Got damn wrong!” “I’m getting Tyler in on this!” “Whatever man, do what you gotta do!”

Two years seem to go by pretty quickly, Justin living his form of normal. He graduates with an associates in physical therapy and transfers to Arizona to complete a bachelors to masters degree in the same program—physical therapy

From there he meets a new group of friends but still has his weekly calls with clay and Zach, either separate or three-way, still texts/zooms/Skype/FaceTime the friend group chat every couple of months to catch up

Ryan is now on a reality tv show and has 30.9k followers on Instagram, Courtney works for a e-commerce fashion company and is in a polygamous relationship—one is non-binary, the other is a bisexual trans woman, Alex and Charlie are engaged!!! “Alex?! Why would you want to marry him?” Justin asks Charlie, everyone knowing that Justin and Alex have a love-hate relationship, mostly hate but still sociable? Light friends? “I’m in love with him, why wouldn’t I? There’s no one else for me.” Charlie deadpans. “Good luck.” “Fuck off, Justin you’re just mad that no one but Jess wanted your dumbass.” “Actually I’m sorta seeing someone so kiss my ass.” Zach and clay are all smiles at this point.

Jessica is taken back by all of this new information since she sort of fell off the face of earth along with Ani. She wanted to be the first to say what’s going on in her life but when Courtney and Ryan are in the chat things usually go one direction and it’s hard to get a word in.

Justin didn’t mean for this to slip out but Alex liked to piss him off.

Zach and clay already knew this information so it wasn’t news to them.

“Well spill the tea love, we’re waiting!” Ryan snaps his fingers to break the silence.

Justin fills the group in that he moved in with his new friends in a house off campus that he met the night of his twenty-first birthday. It all happened sporadically but it was one of the best decisions he’s made 

It’s six of them including Justin in one house in a hot ass desert, he was planning to rent an apartment off campus by himself with the money he managed to save up, even tho the jensens offered to pay his first month’s rent, he learned to take responsibility on his own

Until he met the five at a festival downtown. It was weird for Justin to spend a birthday on his own, even tho he didn’t have the best upbringing at a young age, he still managed to be around someone even if that meant his mother high on the couch, spending it with Bryce/ the team, or celebrating it with the jensens, this was his first time all on his own, truly

But life was all about new experiences. So he was out on his own looking at the artwork, even if it wasn’t his thing, it was still cool to look at. Modern art never made any fucking sense. He did try majority of the food there, with his hungry ass. Indigenous food? That was too good.

He was at yet another food truck when he heard arguing from not too far behind him. He didn’t care to hear this conversation but it was loud enough not to hear it.

He spotted her 5’4 frame self arguing with some dude that was taller than zach’s big foot ass and she was going in

Another guy, a Irish red head who was behind him waiting at the food truck snorted as he watched Justin eat and watch his two friends debate

“That ones a fucking mess, I’ll tell ya. She’s the one that’ll tear off ya neck and shit down it.”

Justin’s eyes were wide at this point. He’s heard some things in his life before but that one was surely knew.

“Benji, man. You are?”

He introduced himself just as the small brown girl managed to bring the 6 ft+ dude into a headlock. She sure had a grip. The two scuffled until they knocked over a table near by filled with figurines.

That’s when they booked it, pulling Justin with them like he asked to be involved.

This was the mischief he needed back in his life, all in good fun but nothing like the extremes of Crestmont

They became acquainted, friends pretty quickly before moving in together and Justin did something he shouldn’t

He fell for his roommate, a 5’4 Indian Gemini girl (he still didn’t understand astrology) who loved to argue/ “communicate” do yoga, majoring in astrophysics—much to the disappointment of her parents, loved Joan Jett & the black hearts, Fiona apple, Fleetwood Mac, and absolutely loved screaming her vocals out to r&b songs, preferably Whitney Houston—mostly when she was drunk

Her name? Jiya and she loved calling Justin her, “boo”

Justin didn’t think he’d find love again. Especially three-four years after Jess. Was it still too soon? He felt like he should feel guilty, Zach assured him that he shouldn’t and deserved to be happy with someone else, and clay was the voice of reason pulling out pros and cons...typical clay shit.

Jess didn’t say much in that moment and Alex and Courtney picked up on that immediately.

It felt like Justin needed permission.

So two days went by after that call and justin was just getting home from a late night class to Jess calling him

They had small talk which wasn’t the norm between them. Usually when they fought or had a disagreement they made up by having sex.

This wasn’t an argument though?

At first Jessica’s tone didn’t feel right to Justin, like she was still in disbelief that he moved on? Yet she ended up telling him that she had hooked up and dated around a couple months into her freshman year

Now she was with diego

And Justin couldn’t help but to laugh, which put Jessica on defense mode

The conversation went from tense, to silence, to awkwardness, to communicating, to closure

“I want you to be happy, Jess. I’ve always wanted you to be happy, even if it’s not with me. It doesn’t have to be. I love you enough to know I can’t be selfish. I can’t keep holding onto the past, we both can’t. Our time apart proved that.”

“But that doesn’t mean I didn’t miss you at all during us not speaking like we used to.”

“I know. And that’s okay, I’m not mad. At first I was, thinking it was too easy for us to call it quits. It used to not be like that, us going hours without speaking but we got used to it. And I think that says a lot.”

“...does she make you happy?”

“She definitely knows how to make me laugh and I’ve needed to laugh for a long time now. Everything about her feels right, we’ve been on a few dates. Well she was the one to initiate it, I was too in my head about it.”

“A woman that knows what she wants, she’s alright with me then.”

“It’s still fuck diego, from where I stand.”

“Justin!” “I’m kidding! You deserve all the happiness in the world too, Jessica Davis. Thank you for being a part of my life. Thank you for loving me when I didn’t think I deserved it.” “Oh you asshole, you’re gonna make me cry. You’re worthy of love, every ounce of it and don’t you forget that. I’ll always love you, Justin. Take care of yourself.”

And life kept on moving. By 25, Justin was a official physical therapist—working his hardest to provide comfort in those that needed it due to their injuries physically and hopefully mentally.

He and Jiya decided to move out into an apartment together, renting of course since Justin did not want to stay in Arizona forever. He hated hot weather. Not a fan at all. He wanted to move to Colorado or somewhere in the mountains or some shit. Jiya didn’t care where they lived as long as they were together.

It was hard for her to find a permanent job with her degree but she did well at hotel management.

They adopted a dog, an Italian greyhound. Justin didn’t want that breed exactly, not trying to be a dog shamer like Jiya liked to call him but his legit words were, “what if I get up in the middle of the night, to see that rat with big eyes staring at me?” “Would you like for us to get a pet rat?” “What? No! That’s not what I’m saying at all.” After three months adopting Raimondo the Italian greyhound, jiya shows up with a bearded dragon. “The hell is that?!” Justin screamed perched on the couch leaving Jiya laughing, “Our new child, you pussy.”

By thirty Jiya received a job opportunity in Vancouver, Washington and off they went.

They bought a mobile styled home, however Jiya truly wanted a bungalow, but this was what they could afford right now. It was painted indigo blue with a red door and they had a shed that looked like a barn. 

It was honestly spacious for the two of them, with four bedrooms. Why did they need four bedrooms? By now Jiya knew she couldn’t have children and didn’t know if she wanted any. Plus they weren’t married so but it’s not like they didn’t talk about it.

One room was for her yoga sessions if she didn’t go out to any. Plus the other rooms could be used for whenever their families wanted to come and visit or friends.

Jiya got a long well with Justin’s side. Especially clay, which Justin saw coming from the moment he met her. That made Justin happy that clay and the jensens approved of Justin’s choices of women. Sure he had a few but when he loved, he loved pretty hard and for a long time.

“That’s just the cancer in you, boo.”

“Enough of this zodiac shit, I’m trying to sleep.”

“Yeaaah, on this Gemini bo-dy boy!” Jiya argued with Justin laying on her chest.

“I’m sleeping on the couch with raimondo.” Justin moved to get up.

“Fine by me, more space in the bed.”

Justin held mock-offense, “I can’t believe you’d just let me leave! You know our couch feels like rocks.”

Jiya gasped, “you said you liked that couch!”

“Well, I lied.” Justin smirked with a shrug of his shoulders.

And that’s when a pillow fight started which ended with them on the floor along with a make-out session and love making.

Justin was always careful before but living hiv-positive and being involved with Jiya he made sure he did all he needed to on his part and to make her comfortable

When he first told Jiya and the group, it was quiet. Two of the roommates believed the stigma and ignorant comments and questions were made/asked. Jiya, Benji, and Heidi were the main ones that came to his defense and he would always remember that.

By thirty-two, Justin asked Jiya to marry him on a picnic by the lake. And she RAN from him. Which had Justin yelling, “wtf?!”

“Sorry, there were huge ass bumblebees or dragonflies coming right for us! And you know I’m allergic.” “So you were just going to let me get stung?” “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, if you see me run, you run too.” Justin huffed finding the moment ruined until Jiya plucked the ring box from his hand and got down on her knees holding the box out to him, “yeah I’ll marry you, boo. You’re my favorite person on the earth, next to Aishwarya Rai Bachchan. But you get my point.”

Justin snorted. He was in love with a major dork. He took the ring and placed it on her finger grabbing onto her hands after she nodded in approval at the ring, pulling her to her feet. He wrapped her hands around his waist and cupped her face bringing their lips together.

Justin Foley Jensen found his happily ever after.

#13rw #13 reasons why #justin foley #blurbs #headcanon #blurb #writing #fanfiction #this was lengthy!!!! #id love to read others if there are any #i wanted to mention that he would still be friends with sheri too #i liked this time together and ofc tony #justin foley x reader #justin foley imagine #justin foley x oc #clay jensen #zach dempsey #jessica davis #justin x jessica #justin x alex #13 reasons why s4 #13rw spoilers

[chickensarentcheap]

Sanctuary -Chapter 49

Warnings: none

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @alievans007​, @thunderintheshadows​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @valkyrie-of-the-light​

Nik has arranged a private flight; her list of wealthy and well established connections is long and prosperous, with more names being added as the days go by. Most are former satisfied clients offering services in exchange of hefty payments, others are associates of big name and influential marks. Word travels fast in the dark underbelly of the soldier for hire world, and once you've established a reputation, it follows you; your client listing growing larger, the money offered much more substantial, the jobs more dangerous and life threatening.  

She'd reluctantly given him the departure time; slightly remorseful for causing an even bigger issue than she'd intended, and eager to keep the peace between Tyler and her herself. It would never be the same. They both know that. The last thread that had been keeping their friendship intact has finally been severed, relegating them to nothing more than colleagues. There's been too much damage done; the years of pursuing him and attempting to convince him to commit adultery, the trust issues that have been plaguing them since he refused to dump Ovi in the street in Dhaka (going against her direct orders), and now going behind his back and almost single handily ruining his marriage.   The latter is partly his fault as well; he shoulders his blame and has had a little more than twelve hours to torture himself over the decisions he'd made. With more meds in his system; he's finally starting to think straight again; the confusion beginning to lift,  the doom and gloom dissipating, the harsh reality of what he'd done sinking in. He's disgusted with himself; for resorting to the means he'd had, for allowing himself to spiral so far out of control that he hadn't even realized he was making a mess out of himself and his life,  for keeping such a horrendous and vile secret from his wife and for not letting her help him sooner.  And for reacting the way he'd had during their fight; for that brief moment when he'd come so close to not being able to control his temper and had thought about grabbing her or hitting her.

It makes him feel sick even now. When he thinks about getting to that point. That he'd allowed his brain to get so fucked up that hurting her had even become an option.  Under normal circumstances, the thought would never have even crossed his mind, not even in the midst of their nastiest and most intense of fights.  And the fact that it had had been enough to make him realize just how much things needed to change. How much he needed to change.  So instead of going on a bender and drinking away his misery, he'd proceeded to raid the mini bar in favour of dumping every bottle of booze down the drain to avoid temptation, and instead of going into an uncontrollable rage and trashing and destroying the hotel room, he'd sat down and had an emotional breakdown instead. Allowing the tears to fall and the sobs to wrack his body; feeling emotionally and physically spent afterwards, but determined to make his life better. He wasn't going to lose his wife and his kids. And he was going to make whatever changes he needed to make to ensure that didn't happen.

His hands are shoved in the pockets of his flack jacket as he crossed the tarmac; Nik and Esme are at the bottom of the stairs that lead up to the floor of the jet, quietly conversing as one of the stewards finishes loading the bags. Nik sees him first, attempting a small smile that he doesn't return, and her lips set themselves into a grin -almost remorseful- line before she whispers something to Esme, gives her upper arm a tight squeeze and then climbs the stairs to the jet without a glance back.

“Hey,” he simply greets, and attempts a smile. He's been miserable since she walked out the night before; heartbroken and desolate instead of angry and destructive. But he'd kept his promise; staying away from her, not even calling or texting, no matter how desperate he was to talk to her.  It's the first time in almost the entire five and a half years they've been together that they've gone that long without talking; always finding ways to communicate even when he was halfway around the world.  And he didn't realize that he'd miss her that damn much in such a short period of time.

Hey,” she sounds tired, sad. And he hates that he's done that to her. But her smile is genuine; it makes her smile sparkle and the bridge of her nose to crinkle. She's still the most beautiful thing he's ever seen; no make up gracing her still youthful features, clad in a pair of jeans and one of his hoodies.

“I was looking for that,” he teases, and nods at the sweater.

“You know it's my favourite one. I wasn't going home without it. And it still smells like you, so...” her voice trails off. “...what are....?”

“I know...”  he begins at the same time, then gives a small laugh. “Go ahead. Ladies first.”

“Age before beauty,” she playfully retorts, and even this small return to their often playful banter gives him hope.

“I know I said I'd stay away from you, when you called me to let me know you were leaving, but Nik told me what time the flight was at.  And before you get mad at her, I kind of put a huge guilt trip on her and forced her to tell me.”

“What are you doing here? I thought we both agreed we wouldn't see each other until you came home.”

“I'm not here to try and convince you to stay. I want to. But I won't.” He wonders if she wants him to; if she wants him to grovel and beg. Because if if that's what it will take to change her mind, he's more than willing to do it. He's far beyond worrying about his pride.

“You need to concentrate on the job,” she says. “And you can't do that if I'm here. You'll spend too much time worrying about me and the baby. And that's dangerous. If your head isn't one hundred percent in things.”

He nods in agreement. “I got a hold of Ovi. He's going to give it a couple of days and then they're going to make their way back to Colorado. I told him not to go to the house and to go to your mom's instead. It's going to be crowded as all hell there. Especially with Nik staying with you.”

“I told her she didn't need to, but she says it's for the best. She feels better if she can keep an eye on all of us. She said it would probably be okay if we went back to the house, but I don't want to be there without you. I'd feel better if you were there with us.”

“And I'd feel better if you stayed away from the house,” he says. “Until I got back. Just in case.”

“Are you okay?” she asks, and takes a step towards him.. “And don't say you're fine. Because I know you're not.”

“I'm not okay, but I will be.”

“You're taking your meds?”

He nods.

“Are you sober?”

“Yeah. I am. And I'm going to stay that way.”

Her smile is a little bigger this time, and she moves even closer to him.

“Have you been back there?”  she inquires. “The storage place?”

“No. Not since yesterday. Not since we...well...you know...”

“And are you going to? Go back?”

He shakes his head. “I told Mark to handle everything. That I wanted nothing more to do with it.  That I never should have done it in the first goddamn place. And I'm sorry. That I ever did do it. And that I never told you how fucked up my head actually is. As soon as I did it, I should have told you.”

“You thought you had a valid reason,” she says. “That's what your brain was telling you.  And I get that. That it was you but it wasn't you all at the same time. Promise me this won't ever happen again. That that's a direction you won't go in again. Because that isn't who you are. No matter what your brain tells you.”

“I promise. It won't ever happen again. That's not who I am; you're right. And it fucking makes me sick that I even thought about it.”

“Don't do that to yourself, Tyler. The guilt. Don't dwell on that. It happened. You can't go back and change it. For what's it worth, it wasn't all your fault. You had people enabling you. Making you think you were doing the right thing. And that's not who you are either. You don't normally give a shit what anyone says.”

“Guess I'm even more fucked up than I realize.”

“You're sick, not fucked up. And when you get home we'll deal with it. Together. Not on your own. You're not in this alone.  And the sooner you realize that, things will get better. You have to let me help you, Tyler. I know that's hard for you. You think I've already done so much. After Dhaka.  But I'd do it all again. I'd make the same decisions. In a heartbeat.”

“I didn't mean what I said. About wishing you'd let me die. I was just pissed off and on the defensive and...”

“I know...” she lays her hands on his hips.  “...I know you didn't mean it. And maybe things would have been easier. If I had have. But I wasn't letting you go. Not that easily anyway.”

He smiles at that.  

“I'm going to call the doctor when I get to my mom's. I should probably get into see her as soon as possible. I think I'm further along than I either of us think. Probably close to three months. If not a bit past it.”

“When I came back from El Salvador,” he easily recalls, and she nods. “Yeah, that was a wild eighteen hours. When I first got back. You were kinda...noisy...that night”

She blushes. “Yeah, well you have that effect on me. I just can't let it out when there's kids in the house. And if that's the case, that that's when it happened, I  need to get in to the doctor sooner rather than later. Just to make sure things are okay.  But I'll call you and let you know what she says. She'll probably want to do an ultrasound. To check on everything. I can send you copies of the pictures if you want.”

“Yeah, I'd like that. Then I go around showing them to complete strangers, bragging about my super sperm.”

She laughs, and shakes her head. “You're never going to let that go, are you.”

“Probably not.  Billy Flynn called. The IRA agreed. They'll take him off our hands. For everything we asked for. I'll let him know where you and the kids are. So he can have his people go there. So once I hand McMann over, that part of the job will be done. And no, I won't be doing it alone. I'll have someone there with me. So I don't flip my shit and fuck him up even more than I already have.”

“He'll get what's coming him to Tyler. Even if it's not you that does it. And I don't want you to be the one that does it.”

“I won't be,” he assures her, and reaches out to take her face in his hands, thumbs gliding across the tops of her cheeks. “I leave for New Zealand, In two days.”

“You found them? The kids? He told you where they are?”

“He just said they're in New Zealand. It's up to me to find out exactly where. But I'm thinking you were probably right about the grandmother's old store. That it's somewhere I should check out.”

“Don't go alone, okay? Because McMann may be out of the picture, but the Buckmans are still in it. And those are people you do not want to cross by yourself.”

“Mark and one of his guys are going to come along. Just in case.  As much as I can't fucking stand Mark...”

“He'll have your back. Mostly because he knows I'll kill him if he lets something happen to you. Please be careful, Tyler.”

“I will.”

“Because I kind of want you to come home,” she says, and fights back tears. “I really, really want you to come home.”

“I'm coming home, baby. I promise.”

She nods, and then drops her forehead onto his chest, arms wrapping around his waist. And he can feel her body trembling against him as she cries.

“It's going to be okay,” he drops a kiss on the top of her head, then places one hand on the nape of her neck, the other on the small of her back. “Everything is going to be okay.”

“I'm sorry. For some of the things I said. I know how bad they must have hurt you and...”

“Don't be sorry. They were true. I needed to hear them.”

“I would never, ever, take your kids from you. And I never should have said that. That was a horrible thing to say you but I was just so shocked over the whole thing and I was so angry with you and I was so hurt when you said you wished I'd let you die that I just snapped and....”

“Esme, it's okay,” he presses a kiss to her temple. “What I did was fucked up. And I'm sorry I did it. That I lied to you. That I disappointed you.”

“You're a great dad, Tyler. And when I said that you should try being a dad for once...”

'Baby, stop. Just stop.  It's okay. And it's true, I've been away more than I've been home. I've missed a lot. But I always tried to make for it. With them. But I never tried hard enough to make up for it with you. And I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry.”

“There's things we both need to work on,” she says, and he nods.

“Me more than you though. I've got a lot more shit to work out.”

“We'll do that together, right?” she sounds worried, and she looks up at him, her top teeth digging into her bottom lip. “This isn't something you want to alone or...”

“I'm coming home, baby. I already said that. Neither of us are going to do this alone.”

She smiles at that. “How long do you think? That you'll be in New Zealand?”

“Few days. A week at the most. It'll take us a couple days once we get there to track down a location. Unless the IRA can get more info out of McMann before they kill him. And I asked for proof. That he's dead. So we know for sure. So we don't have to worry about showing up on our doorstep a year from now.”

“I'll definitely be able to sleep better at night if I know for sure he's gone. And when you're home and I don't have to sleep in that big old bed by myself.”

“Yeah, that'll be nice. I know I know I'll sleep like shit until I get home.”

“You sleep like shit anyway,” she sniffles.

“Well I'll sleep like bigger shit until I get home,” he chuckles.  “You should go...” he rubs his palms up and down her back. “...Nik's probably starting to get antsy. Your mom picking you up at the airport?”

“Kyle said he would do it.”  The youngest Drummond boy. The only 'non cop'. A firefighter in Denver. For the most part he's neutral when it comes to his opinions on his sister's choice in men and her hasty marriage and pregnancy. But when his mother gets out of hand and he can't handle anymore, he becomes what they call 'Pro Tyler'.  It's mostly to piss her off, but they appreciate the support. And he's a good uncle; taking the time out of his schedule to spend time with his nieces and nephews, unlike the others who have a hard time even remembering birthdays.

“You'll call me?” he asks. “When you get there? So I now you're safe and sound?”

She nods.  “Don't go to New Zealand without letting me know about it, okay? I'm thousands of miles away, but I still like to know where you are and if you're alright.”

“I'll call you,” he promises. “Give the kids hugs and kisses from daddy. Tell them I miss them. That I'll see them soon.”

“I will,” the tears are threatening again. “Be home soon, okay? I'll miss you.”

“I'll miss you too,” he takes her face in his hands and kisses; tender, sweet, long. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Tyler. Please stay safe.”

“Always,” he says, and places a kiss to her forehead before taking a step backwards and watching her as she climbs the stairs to the jet. Smiling when she pauses in the doorway to give him a small wave before disappearing inside.

****

Kyle is already waiting at the edge of the tarmac when they arrive; leaning against the passenger's side door of his pick up truck, hands stuffed in the pockets of his navy blue Denver Fire Department jacket. The third youngest, he's the tallest and biggest of the three boys; just hitting six feet, with broad shoulders and chest and strong, powerful arms. He's the spitting image of their late father; brilliant blue eyes, the same easy smile and witty and sarcastic nature,  the graying hair clipped short to his head in a brush cut. He gives his sister a bright, cheerful smile as she raises her hand in greeting as she descends the jet steps, then hangs back as she and Nik exchange a brief conversation and a quick hug before Nik departs to meet with the waiting 'security experts' she'd assigned to the family.

“Who's that?” he asks, as he quickly strides towards his sister, relieving her of her carry on bag and suitcase. Watching as Nik...in her well tailored charcoal grey pant suit and pink blouse...climbs into the back of a Lincoln Navigator.  

“That's Nik. She's going to be staying at mom's too.”

“Friend of yours?”

Esme nods. “She's also Tyler's boss. Sort of. She's the one that calls him when she has work she needs done.”

“What kind of work?”

“We've talked about this. A million times. Private security.”

“Private security, huh?” he slings the strap of the carry on over his shoulder. “Why do I get the feeling that's code language for something else entirely?”

“It's been five and a half years, K. Let it go.”

“Yeah? Well It's been five and a half years of thinking you're full of shit. Hold up...” he places a protective arm across her stomach when the Navigator comes within feet of them on it's way off the tarmac.  And he notices how Nik is watching them; oversized sunglasses covering her eyes, a slow smile spreading across her face.  “She's cute,” he says.  “Your friend.”

“She's with Mark.”

He frowns. “Mark as in...”

“As in my ex Mark. The Mark who you dragged out of a bed at a hotel in Aspen and beat the shit out of in front of a prostitute. That Mark.”

“He's lucky all I did was beat the shit out of him. I should have killed him. I could have, you know. With my bare hands. I could have honestly killed him. Why would someone like her want to be a dick like him?”

“Maybe she didn't realize that you're single and 'looking to mingle',” Esme playfully digs her elbow into his side. “I mean, what's not to like about you? You're buff, crazy handsome, a firefighter. Chicks dig men in uniform. Even someone like Nik, I bet.”

Kyle chuckles. “Easy now. All I said was that she was cute. I'm not looking for you to hook me up.  Besides, I don't know if I could get with someone that's been with that prick. Not after all the stuff he's done to my little sister.”

“Typical, K. Always the protective older brother.”

“Always,” he declares. “How you doing, kid?” He wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls her tight into his side, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Not sure about the red. Never thought I'd see you with that colour. What's that all about?”

“It is a long story that I do not have the energy to tell. But I'm dying it back as soon as I can get to a store and get a box of hair dye. I want this part of my life to be over. It's been a nightmare and I need every memory of it gone.”

“It's hair.”

“And I want it gone. It needs to be gone.”

“We can stop at a store before we get to mom's, if you're that hell bent on changing things. What did Tyler say about? Did he like it?”

“He was okay with it, I guess. He never complained about it. But I just want it gone. I don't like what it represents. I don't want to hang onto those memories. I need this part to be over.”

“This part as in Tyler or...”

“What?” she gives a short laugh. “No. Not as in Tyler. Tyler and I are fine. Sort of.”

Kyle arches an eyebrow.

“We aren't splitting up, so don't get hopeful.”

“Why would I be hopeful? I actually like the guy. I'm the only one who does. Everyone else has their heads so far up mom's ass they just go along with whatever she says. But I think he's  a good shit. It's kind of cool having an Australian as a brother in law. And he's good for you. Good to you. Worships the ground you walk on. And he's a great dad.”

She nods. “He is.”

“But? Why do I feel like there's a but coming on?”

“But, we're having some issues,” she admits.  “Not bad enough for us to call things quits. But bad enough that I had to come home. He's got a lot on his plate. With work. The thing he is working on is stressful and it's taking a lot out of him and he's not doing well. Mentally. I was only in his way in Ireland. He couldn't concentrate on doing his job when he was too busy worrying about me all the time.”

“This all sounds a little ominous,” he loads her things into the back seat of the truck, then opens her door for her, a hand on her elbow as he helps her climb into the seat. “All the more reason I think this private security business goes way deeper than you're letting on. What would he be doing in Ireland that would require private security?”

“Nik has a lot of international clients,” Esme explains, as she buckles her seat belt. “Tyler goes where she needs him.”

“For private security.”

Esme nods.

Kyle shakes his head. “You're full of shit,sis,” he says, and slams her door closed.

****

Their on the highway for several minutes before either of them speak again. Kyle turning down the volume on the radio and then taking a sip of coffee from the take out cup sitting in the holder between the seats.

“You want to talk about it?” he asks. “Whatever is going on? Whatever is happening between you and Tyler?”

She gives a small, almost apologetic smile. “Not really.”

“How bad is it?”

“I already told you. Not bad enough to split us up. There's no reason to hire a lawyer and get divorce papers drawn up.”

“What if I told you that mom's already been on google looking up good lawyers and taking their numbers down?”

Sighing, she shakes her head in disbelief.

“I know,” Kyle snorts. “What a bitch, right? Considering her marriage is a huge dumpster fire. She should be the last person judging anyone for their choices. You know she's convinced that he has women all over the globe? That he's hooking up with different people every place he goes?”

“She's a piece of work. I can't believe I'm willingly going there.”

“Does he? Have different women everywhere?”

She laughs. “No. He doesn't.”

“Is he cheating on you? Is that what the issue is? You found out about it and you're pissed and...”

“Tyler is not cheating on me. Tyler would never cheat on me. In the same way I'd never cheat on him. Why the hell is everyone so against us being together? It's been five and a half years. We have four children together. We are people still so bent out of shape about this?”

“Well you did run off to Australia, meet some random guy, hook up with him, and never come home. First time we're hearing about him is when he's in the hospital near death? In some messed up work related incident? What? What is a work related incident when you're in private security.”

“It's like being a cop. In a way. It's dangerous. Maybe even more dangerous than being a cop.”

“So he's packing heat, then.”

She nods. “And being shot at by other people packing heat. Among other things.”

“And he almost died?”

“Yes. On the job. He was shot...in the neck...and almost died.”

“Almost bled out. In your arms.”

She sighs. “Yes.”

“How the hell would that even happen? Why would you even be there? Where he's working? While he's working?”

“Because I was working too. With him. On the same thing.”

“Wait? What?” Kyle laughs. “I thought you were in Australia on a business trip.”

“I didn't meet him in Australia, Kyle. I mean, I did. In a way. I went to his place in Australia to meet him because we were going to be working together and Nik thought we should meet each other first.”

He frowns. “Nik? His boss? She's also your boss? What? How? I thought you were in business. Why would you and Tyler be working for the same person if he's in private security and you were in business?”

“This is a very long story. And it's weird and it's twisted and it's complicated and...”

“And we've got a two hour drive so start talking,”  he interjects. “What the hell is going on, Esme? Because there is something that you're not telling me. There's a lot you're not telling me. So talk. Now.”

She sighs heavily, chewing nervously on her bottom lip.  “I wasn't in business. I was in intel. I was hired by people like Nik to go places and get information. Valuable information. That no one else was able to get. On people that are suspected of doing some horrible things.”

“Like a spy?”

“Sort of, I guess. I don't know. I would just go where I was sent and weasel my way into peoples' lives and I'd get the information they'd need and then they'd go in and take care of things.”

“They? Who are they?”

“Mercenaries.”

Kyle's eyes narrow.  “Excuse me, what? Did you just say mercenaries?”

Esme nods.

“As in soldiers for hire?”

Another nod.

“You're kidding, right?” he gives a short laugh.  “You've got to be kidding. So what does this have to do with Tyler?”

“Tyler isn't in private security, K. He's a mercenary.”

“What?” he chuckles. “You're really expecting me to believe that? This is all a joke right? Some big joke that the two of you have cooked up to play on mom. Get her riled up. Give her some more gray hair and maybe some heart issues. There's no way you're being serious. Tyler? A mercenary?”

“It's how we met. Nik recruited him for a job that she needed me to take. We were sent to Dhaka.”

“Isn't that the capital of Bangladesh?”

“A drug lord kidnapped another drug lord's son. But Nik couldn't figure out where they were keeping the kid other than somewhere in the market area. So she went me in to poke around and make nice with the locals and see what I could dig up. And she sent Tyler with me to protect me. And to eventually get the kid away from bad guys and home safe to his family.”

“I am having a really hard time wrapping my head around all of this,” Kyle admits, confusing on his face, brow deeply furrowed.

“Tyler and I were pretending to be newlyweds there for humanitarian work. That's how we ended up...well...you know...”

“Fucking,” her brother finishes for her.

“And it went really well until it didn't. Things fell apart on the way to the extraction point. Tyler wasn't able to get there safely because the kid's father sent someone to try and steal the kid off of Tyler and....”

“What the fuck? What are you talking about right now?”

“I'm explaining it to you!” she snaps. “They didn't want to pay Tyler his money so they tried to steal the  kid back and all hell broke loose and we were the only two people from the team that didn't die and I had to hide out in the forest until the coast was clear and then walk back into town to meet you with Tyler and Ovi and...”

“Hold up...just hold up...Ovi? As in Ovi who lives with you?”

“There were cops everywhere,” she continues. “And the cops were in on it. And this drug lord Asif had these street hooligans chasing after us and it was still a big mess, so we had to hide in a sewer and Tyler's friend had to come and rescue us and he took us back to his house and then he back stabbed Tyler and Ovi had to kill him and...”

“Jesus Christ, are you honestly serious about all of this? What the hell, Esme? What in the ever loving hell?”

“...and we had to try and get across the Sultana Kamal Bridge but we needed help so Tyler got the guy that originally tried to steal Ovi back in the first place. And we had to split up and I went with them and Tyler stayed behind and...”  her hands begin to tremble, tears brimming in her eyes. “...and Ovi and I got across okay but Tyler had a harder time and a sniper shot him and get back up and then this kid...this fucking kid shot him in the neck...”  she wipes at the tears that manage to escape. “...and he was bleeding out and I was holding him and I was telling him not to give up...that he'd promised me we'd do all these things together and get to know one another better. And I had to put my hand over his  neck and there was so much blood. There was so much of it and there was nothing I could but watch him die.”

“Okay...okay...calm down..” Kyle drops one hand from the wheel and rubs at the back of her neck.  “Do you want me to pull over? I can pull over. Want me to?”

She shakes her head.  “That's how it happened How it really happened.  That's how Tyler nearly died. When he was stable, they transferred him to Australia and I went with him and I decided to stay with him. I didn't want to leave him there alone. I didn't want him to wake up and not have anyone there for him. So I stayed. And then I realized it was because I was in love with him and I wanted to be with him. And then I found out I was pregnant with Millie. So when he was well enough to be released, we moved in together and he asked me to marry him. That's how I ended up in Australia. With Tyler.”

Silence descends on the truck. Nothing but her soft sniffling and the windshield wipers back and forth as they clear away the light rain that's begun to fall. Out of the corner of her eye, Esme can see her older brother watching her; mouth slightly again, rendered speechless by her incessant rambling. And the hard truths it brought forth. His eyes rapidly -and repeatedly-  flicking between her and the road. Eventually, he pops open the compartment between their seats, pulling out a bottle of water and a handful of fast food napkins, gently drop the bounty in her lap.

“Thank you,” she manages through the remainder of the sobs wracking her body, and when she has a hard time opening the bottle because of the tremors in her hands, he does it for her.  Rubbing her knee softly when she gives him an appreciative smile.

“It's okay, kid,” he says. “Just try and stay calm. Everything's okay.”

“It's not. It's really not K. It's fucked up and it's a mess and I wish we'd never had to keep it a secret. But we didn't have a choice. It was to protect you guys. Just in case someone ever wanted revenge on Tyler. Just in case they didn't go right after him and went after family first.  We didn't want anything happening to any of you.”

“I get that. I do. I understand why you couldn't say anything. But...Esme...what the fuck right from the beginning? Why would you even get involved in all of this? Why would you even get involved with him?”

“It just happened. We didn't go into it wanting it to happen. Or expecting it to happen, It just did. And then it kept happening. For the entire five days we were there. We couldn't stop. And then when the job was done...my job was done...we realized that we wanted to keep seeing each other. We were going to take some of the money we were paid and travel. Spend time getting to know each other. To see if we could have something. Something real.”

“But why?  Why would you want that for yourself? Someone like him? That does that for a living? Something that's dangerous and scary and...”

“Being a firefighter is scary and dangerous,” she interjects.

“Being a firefighter and being a trained killer are two totally different things.”

“He isn't a trained killer. I mean, he is. If he has to be. He kills because he has to. He doesn't do many jobs where he has to kill people intentionally. Like assassinations or hits.”

“Oh my God,” Kyle groans. “This just goes from bad to worse.”

“He mostly does extractions. Like he did for Ovi. He gets hired to save people. And sometimes he kills other people to save them. To save himself.”

“Are you listening to yourself right now? Are you? Your husband kills people. And he gets paid for it. Does that sound at all normal to you?”

“I just told you! He doesn't just kill people. He helps people. Sometimes he has to kill. Especially if it's to save for himself.”

“Jesus...fucking...Christ...” Kyle mutters. “And you're okay with this? That he has to sometimes kill people?'

“It is what it is. It's the job. The people he kills deserve to be killed. He's not killing innocent people.”

“How do you know that? How do you know someone doesn't hire to take out someone that is innocent?”

“Because I know Tyler. And Tyler would not do that.  Every job he takes, he's very thorough and very detailed and he leaves no stone unturned. And he has great instincts and they never let him down.”

“I can't believe you're trying to rationalize this. How long has he been doing this?”

“Since he left the army. So about fifteen years, almost sixteen years, I guess.”

“And he's still doing it ? Even though you guys are married and have kids.”

She nods. “This is his last job. He has two kids he has to be find. They're being held somewhere in New Zealand.”

“And you came home because...”

“Because I knew he wouldn't be able to focus if I was there. That he'd be too worried about me and his head wouldn't be right into the job and those kids need him to be totally on his game. He wouldn't have been if I'd stayed.”

“Why? You're a big girl. You can take care of yourself. What would he be worried about?”

“I'm pregnant,” she reveals.  “He didn't want anything happening to the baby.”

“Esme are you serious? You're pregnant? You're having a baby?”

She nods.

“Holy fuck...” he runs a hand over his hair and down onto his face. “....what the hell have you gotten yourself into? Are you sure? That you are?”

“I'm one hundred percent sure. We've been trying. To have a baby. It's just happened sooner than we thought it would.”

“You're willingly bringing a baby into this goddamn mess?”

“I already have four. Tyler's been a mercenary longer than any of them have been alive.”

“Is that why you sent them away? With Ovi? Because of this mercenary shit?”

“Someone was after Tyler. They threatened to grab the kids and hurt them. So Tyler told Ovi to take the kids and run. To protect them.”

“This is insane,” Kyle breathes. “This is fucking insane.  My brother law kills people for a living.”

“Stop it!” she orders. “That's not all he does. He helps people.”

“I'm going to break his fucking neck. I'm going to hunt him down and I am going to beat the ever loving shit out of him.”

“For what? What has he done? Other than provide for his family?”

“What has he done?” He's gotten you...my sister...mixed up in this bullshit. In this life!”

“He didn't get me mixed up in anything. He didn't force me to stay with him. To fall in love with him. I did all of that willingly. It's not like he held a gun to my head and forced me to have sex with him or to marry him. You can't blame this entirely on him.”

“Like hell I can't! He got mixed up with you knowing what kind of life it would bring you. He could have just walked away and left you alone. And that's what he should have done. Even if you guys just fucked each other and then went your separate ways! But to get you tied up in more than that? Let you get mixed up in that life? He should have just fucked you and left you alone.”

She smirks. “I honestly never thought I'd hear you say that. That a guy should have just fucked your sister and took off.”

“I never thought I'd have to say it. But this isn't a normal guy. He's a fucking mercenary! He kills people!”

“And saves people,” she reminds her brother.

“I don't give a shit. Killing people sort of takes the shine away from saving them, don't you think? He had this life all along and he never should have let you get mixed up in it. If you loved you the way he says he does, he would have cut you loose. He wouldn't have wanted you to live this life. Why would you want this for someone you love?”

“Kyle, I got into this life knowing what he did and knowing what he's capable of. He didn't force me into anything, okay? You can't hold Tyler totally responsible for this. Because he's a good man and he's a good husband and he's a great father. And you can't deny him any of those things.”

“I didn't say he wasn't any of those things. But just because he's those things, doesn't mean he's not a goddamn hired killer.”

“For the last time!” she shouts. “That's not all he does! He helps people! Innocent people like Ovi! And if wasn't for Tyler, I never would have gotten out of Dhaka alive. So you need to shut the fuck about him being 'hired killer' and show him some respect. Because he's so much more than his job. So much more! And if you'd all give him a goddamn chance,  you'd realize that and stop shitting all over him all the time!”

“Whoa...whoa...settle down.  I'm not mom. I don't hate the guy. You know that.”

“He's my husband. He's the father of my children. And I am fucking sick of how she treats him all the time. Because he doesn't deserve that. He's not the horrible person she thinks he is. That she tells everyone he is.”

“I know that.  And I've never thought that about him. Ever. Like I said, he's a good shit. And he treats you well and he treats my niece and my nephews even better. And you know much I adore those kids. Like they're my own. I would do anything for those kids. And they wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him kicking in some DNA.”

“I'm just so tired of her shit and I know she's going to get on a tirade about him and I'm not in the fucking mood to deal with that. I'm worried about him and I miss him and I'm sick all the time and I'm so goddamn hormonal because of this baby!”

“Alright...easy...easy...” Kyle chuckles, and rubs the back of her neck soothingly.  “Just calm down.”

“I don't know what is wrong with me. It is so bad this time around. My hormones are out of control! They've never been this bad before.”

“”You're kidding right? They have been this bad before.”

“When?”

“When you were pregnant with the twins. You were off the charts insane when you were having them. Don't you remember? You were either crying or you were raging. No in between. Who was the one that was there? When Tyler was away? Who came to spend time with you and help out with Millie? I did. I was the one who had to bear the brunt of your hormones. I remember it very well.”

“Maybe I was a little...off.”

“A little off the reservation, maybe,” Kyle laughs and she glares at him.

“You're going be okay, kid,” he assures her. “You and that baby are going to be just fine. And I promise I won't kill Tyler when he gets home.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that. Because I kind of  like him and I like having him around.”

“I may break some of his bones or mess up that face of his.”

“Yeah, not the face, okay? He's kind of nice to look at it and I'd like to keep him that way.  Just don't go off on him. He's having a hard time and he doesn't need that shit. He's trying so hard. To keep his shit together. To keep us together. He's not a bad person, K.”

“I know he's not. And I know he's wildly and crazily in love with you. I've never doubted that for a second. I just worry about you, Esme. This is a hell of a life to be caught up in.”

“He's keep me and the kids safe for five and a half years. I trust him. With my life. With their lives. I'm safe with him. We're safe with him.”

Kyle nods slowly, considering her words.

“I just want this to be over with,” she laments.  “I just want him to come home. And stay home. Is that too much to ask?”

“You'd have to ask him that. Does he want to give it up?”

“This is his last job. He's done after this. And it's time. Because it's starting to break him down. I hate what it's doing to him. What it's doing to us.  I just want him home.”

“Soon,” Kyle says. “I'm sure whatever he's up to, it'll be over soon and he'll be back. He'll come home, kid. You know he will.”

She nods in confirmation, then leans the side of her head against the cool glass of the window. Seeking some relief for the overwhelming fear and loneliness threatening to swallow her whole.

#tyler rake #tyler rake fan fiction #tyler rake fan fic #extraction #sanctuary #chris hemsworth character