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[thevillagesalons]

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[winstonsns]

I love ur writing so, so, so, so, so much!! I was wondering if you’d be willing to write Dallas x Reader where he met reader through Ponyboy and Johnny. Like both Johnny and Ponyboy are really really close friends with reader and Dallas is curious and wants to met them and Dallas develops a little puppy crush!

Only write if ur comfortable/have time! Love ya and I’m excited to see you write more in the future! 🖤🖤🖤

can’t help falling in love (request)

authors note: i have a shit ton of requests but try to post once each day, please be patient if i haven’t gotten to yours yet! i’m so glad you like my writing, i hope you enjoy! this is my first oneshot so idk if it’s good or not LMAO 💗

dally x reader

word count: 2.6k

warnings: cussing, slightly suggestive, bob being a bitch

dally was sitting on his bed in his room, above buck’s bar when he suddenly heard a ring from the phone on his dresser. “god damn it, who the fuck could it be…” he mumbled, grumpily walking over to the phone and picking it up.

“hey, who the hell is this?” he asked, receiving a response quickly, “it’s pony. you wanna go to the drive in with me and johnny and our other friend? she’s real tuff, i’m sure you’d like her. the movie’s at 7—“

dally looked at the wall, checking the time on the clock. it was nearly 3pm, he thought for a moment before interrupting pony, “i’ll come over now, we can get some food or something before we leave for the movie.”

“see you in a bit, dallas.” he responded, dally putting down the phone and therefore ending the call. he stared at the dresser for a couple seconds before making up his mind, pulling on the drawer handle and taking a plain black shirt out, putting it over his head. he then walked to another part of his room, picking up his shoes on the floor, putting them on and grabbing his denim jacket from a hanger. he put his arms through the sleeves and walked to the door, walking downstairs, telling buck, “hey, i’m taking your car. goin’ to a friend’s house.”

he rolled his eyes before grabbing the keys from his pocket, tossing them to dally before he was on his way to pony’s house. going into the car, he wondered what you would be like, knowing you were going to the drive in with johnny and pony. as he was on the road, he couldn’t stop thinking about you, thinking about what you could look like or if he would think you’re as tuff as ponyboy thought.

by the time he was at ponyboy’s house, it was 3:30pm. he took the keys out of his car and opened the car door, closing it behind him once he got out. he walked over to the entrance of his friend’s house, opening the door since he knew it would be unlocked. “hey dally, took you long enough.” he heard someone say, recognizing it as johnny’s voice. “hey, man, how you doin’?” he asked, walking over to the kitchen where he saw johnny and ponyboy eating some chocolate cake. both of them looking at dally and nodding.

“isn’t there gonna be some broad at the drive in with you guys? what’s that about?” he asked, johnny and pony looking at each other, johnny grinning and holding his hand out to pony. he groaned and mumbled a “gotta be kiddin’ me…” and pulled a dollar out of his pocket, giving it to the dark haired boy next to him.

dally watched the whole interaction but was still confused, only after pony explained who you were, he understood the two of them had made a bet. “how have we not told you about her, man? y/n’s been our best friend for years, one of the only nice socs, we hang out like three times every week, man. have you not seen her?” pony explained, johnny answering his question and saying, “oh she’s beautiful, dallas, you’d love her.” ponyboy nodding his head, agreeing with johnny.

all three of them talked for a while in the curtis house, ranging from you, to dally almost getting put in jail again, to some fight that pony witnessed, to johnny getting beat up by a soc, then once again, back to you. time passed by quickly and before they knew it, two hours had passed, they only had an hour before they wanted to be at the drive in.

dally couldn’t keep his mind off of you, he got curious because of how highly pony and johnny spoke of you. saying you were an academic beast, the most beautiful person someone could ever meet, the funniest and best person someone would want to be around, etc. “knew each other since we were… god, what were we? oh, i was around 7 i think, she was around 10.” pony stated, bringing dally back into the conversation after he zoned out.

the rest of the hour was spent talking about you, how you, pony and johnny met and became friends. detail by detail, dally grew more and more excited to meet you, but he tried not to show it. pony and dally continued their conversation while johnny glanced at the clock, noticing it was nearly 6:30. “hey guys, it’s close to seven. think we should start headin’ over to the drive in, yeah?” he asked, the two other boys nodding, getting up from their seats and walking out the door to the drive in.

by the time they arrived, the sky was dark even though it was still early. they looked around before getting on their knees, crawling under the fence and getting their jeans a bit dirtier than they wanted. “should be in a black mustang, i think. that’s what she has, right johnny?” pony stated, wanting to have his statement confirmed by his friend first. “yeah, pretty sure. wait— isn’t it dark blue?”

the two kept bickering back and forth, looking around even though many people were there. he glanced around, remembering how pony and johnny described your features, trying to find someone who described them. the three boys were near rows of chairs, your friends still arguing about what color your car was.

dally heard footsteps walking towards his direction and a loud voice, he recognized it as someone was yelling at another person. “god, won’t you just fucking listen to me, y/n!!? you can’t be hanging out with those— those hoods, they’ll ruin you!!” a boy with curly blond hair with an alcohol bottle in his hand yelled, dally realizing he was bob, someone that johnny had described multiple times, with his rings that cut up johnny’s face.

“look, bob. we’re not even together, why do you care so much about this? they aren’t bad people, you have to understand that!!” you argued back, trying to keep your voice steady and managing not to yell at him. even though the two of you were somewhat far away, dally lightly hit johnny’s arm and pointed at you, asking, “is that your friend?” looking back at him, seeing both of the younger boys smile.

pony and johnny started to walk towards you when he stopped them, worrying, “hey, hey… seems like she’s in an argument with that one guy over there. don’t you think we should wait?” the two of them paused, staring at you, watching you and bob continue arguing, him losing his temper and screaming at you, “you’re a fucking whore, y/n! a bitch too, leaving us for some gross hoods. what, you wanna live on the streets too, huh?”

you rolled your eyes, knowing they didn’t really live on the streets, they just knew them better. they weren’t as fortunate as you and bob, as the socs. you continued letting him yell at you when you heard footsteps behind you, like they were from multiple people. when bob paused and looked behind you and asked, “who the hell are you? get lost.” spitting near the people behind you, you cringed and moved away from the spit and bob, looking behind you to see johnny, pony and a boy who you haven’t seen before.

the dark haired boy, who was a bit taller than pony and johnny came closer to bob’s face. asking, “why the fuck are you yelling at her, huh? you have no fucking right to do that, you piece of shit.” pushing bob’s chest, causing him to back up. he looked at you, complaining, “this ain’t worth my time,” slowly walking backwards then turning around to walk towards his friends.

dally turned around, seeing you already looking at him and smiling. “you’re dally, aren’t you? i’ve heard about you before. pony and johnny talk about you sometimes…” you added, glancing over to the two boys at the end. he responded, “yeah, it’s dally. so you’re y/n, huh? the boys talk very highly of you, it’s a big thing to meet you,” pausing, hearing you giggle, then continuing, “you’re pretty good looking, you know. should get to know each other better, yeah?” smirking when he saw you blush.

after the four of you reached the seats, you sat in a row, two behind johnny and pony. the two of you continued talking although the movie had already started, not even paying attention. you had learned dally had an insanely long criminal record while you had none, his parents were both shitty and didn’t care about him, but yours were perfect. he didn’t give a shit about school, meanwhile you would most likely be the valedictorian. but he wanted to attend school again just so he could see you.

even though the two of you didn’t notice, the movie had ended as quickly as it started. both of you kept chatting away before pony and johnny looked behind the two of you and spoke, “man, nearly everyone’s gone. i think we should all go home, right? don’t want your parents to be mad, right y/n? don’t wanna get grounded again.” johnny teased, you rolling your eyes playfully and agreeing, “yeah, we should probably get going.”

when you looked away, dally gave the two boys a look and shrugged, a gesture for, “what the hell was that for?!” so they shrugged back and got up from their seats. the three boys walked you over to your car, ponyboy asked you all, “so, what’d you guys think of the movie?”

you and dally looked at each other and grinned, he replied, “wasn’t paying attention.” and you nodded, agreeing, “yeah, i wasn’t either.” he lightly bumped your shoulder in a teasing manner, causing you to giggle. by the time you got to your car, you felt your mood start to change drastically, going from happy to a sense of sadness. you wanted to continue talking to dally, but were nervous to ask.

you fidgeted with your hands and looked worried, staring at the ground before asking dally, “can i have your number?” his face turned into a shade of red, nodding quickly and speaking, “yeah, you got a pen and paper?” you wondered for a second before stating, “maybe, let me check.” so you opened your car door slightly and frantically looking around, yet finding a pen and not a piece of paper. you grabbed it and shrugged, “i only have a pen… sorry…” feeling bad that you got your hopes up.

he took the pen from your hands, asking if you could roll up your sleeves, you nodded and he gently grabbed your arm. as he wrote his number on your arm, you looked at johnny and pony, smiling at them while they gave you a thumbs up. “this doesn’t hurt, right?” dally asked, checking up on you. you shook your head, suddenly you didn’t feel pressure on your arm and he handed the pen back to you. looking on your arm, he wrote his number and ‘dally ;)’ at the bottom.

you smiled at the little winking face, looking up at him to see him already grinning at you. you mumbled, “i think i have to go now… i don’t want my parents to be mad…” dally looked at you, nodding and stating, “i’ll call you in the morning, ‘kay? we should hang out tomorrow.” while you got into your car, putting the keys in.

dally bent down to the window and smiled, you beamed, “it was nice meeting you, dally… i hope we can figure out another time to hang out. thanks for inviting me, pony and johnny.” they smiled and said “we’ll see you later!!” and waved as you drove out of the drive in, going in the direction of your house.

watching your car with a bit of sadness, dally turned his head and mumbled, “let’s get you two home…” johnny and pony teased him the whole way back to ponyboy’s house, saying it was so obvious that he thought you were cute and was trying to flirt with you. “your eyes were basically like hearts, like in the cartoons when they fall in love!!” johnny chuckled, getting a playful hit on the back from dally.

by the time they reached the curtis house, johnny and pony said goodbye to dally, “we’ll talk to you later, dallas. don’t fuck it up with y/n, we don’t have to choose in between you and her!!” waving at him when he got into the car, driving to buck’s. as he walked into the bar, a girl walked up to him and said, “hey, you wanna go somewhere? there’s a bathroom over there,” she pointed, “maybe we could… bang?” she winked, dally made a disgusted face and said, “i have a girlfriend, dipshit.” and walked away, knowing he didn’t really have anyone romantically, but he wanted you.

when he was brushing his teeth and getting ready for bed, he was thinking about you. the way you talked, trying to keep your sweet voice in his head, the way you looked at him with interest while he talked. you had made him feel important for those two hours the both of you talked. he yearned for you, for your attention and love, but he thought he wouldn’t admit that to anyone, not if it was to save his life.

when you got home and walked up to your bedroom after you took your shoes off, you smiled at the writing on your arm. walking to your vanity, you pulled out a sticky note and pencil, writing dally’s phone number with a ‘dally’ and a heart next to it, underneath the numbers themself.

you changed into your matching set of pajamas and went into your bathroom, grabbing your toothbrush and toothpaste, wetting the toothbrush and putting toothpaste on it. you felt a lot different now than how you did with dallas, not even 30 minutes ago. you spit out the toothpaste once two minutes had passed, you wiped your mouth, turned the lights off and walked to your bed. you turned on the lamp that was on your nightstand, turning off your big light in the center of your room.

you and dally were both laying on your own beds, thinking about each other, both wondering “are they thinking about me too? there’s no way, it didn’t even seem like they liked me. maybe they were being nice.”

only johnny and pony knew, johnny had slept over at pony’s house while you called them, ranting to them about dally and how sweet he seemed, and when you hung up, they immediately got a call from the boy you were just talking about. he was talking about you, and for once seemed like he wanted something more than a short term relationship. he tried to make it seem like he didn’t care that much, but the two boys could tell.

authors note: yayyy my first oneshot!! i hope you liked it, sorry it was short!! ;3

[quizzicalwriter]

dally Winston x hyperfemme, soc!reader

You can make it nsfw or just fluff x

It’s you, it’s you

Pairing: Dallas Winston x Fem/Soc!reader

Summary: Dallas wasn’t one to be cordial with Soc’s on the best of days, so how the hell had you wove your way through his heart?

Warnings: Smut. MDNI. Soft Dallas, touching, kissing, fingering, morning sex. It’s cute and I need more soft Dallas moments, he’s capable of being soft dammit.

A/N: Thank you for the request!

Word Count: 2.9k

If someone had told Dallas a year ago he’d be wrapped around the finger of a Soc he would’ve punched the shit out of them, out of principle, of course. Yet here he was, staring up at your bedroom window, wagering on if he could make it up onto the roof if he used the railing from the porch as his footing. He’d had to sneak in to see you after getting caught between your legs by your less-than-thrilled father who subsequently chased him off the lawn with a shotgun.

It sounded cliche, but it was true. The talk you’d had with your parents after the fact mortified you more than anything you’d ever had to go through up until that point. How you were a ‘good girl’, how you had a ‘pedigree.’ Their words made you feel like a damn dog, but that’s all they ever spoke of when it came to you, how you were supposed to marry someone rich and keep the family name out of the dirt.

If it’d been years ago you might’ve been inclined to agree, but that was then, and now you were just as whipped for Dallas as he was for you. You two continued to meet, albeit a bit more secretive than before, usually unprompted and random on his part if he could help it. He liked the way you smiled whenever he showed up unannounced, how you’d scramble to your feet to throw your arms around his neck and kiss him. It made him feel funny, made his heart thump harder in his chest, something he’d never felt with anyone before.

So instead of you sneaking him in as you always did, both of you whispering and tiptoeing up to your bedroom, he decided he could hop up onto the roof. He dried his hands on his jeans, murmuring some self-encouragement under his breath as he ran toward the porch. Somehow he successfully propped himself up on the railing, his hands clutching the lip of the roof for dear life. As he propped his upper half up on the roof his knees knocked against the wooden rails along your parent’s front porch. He stilled, bottom half still swinging in the air as he prayed for your parents to have slept through the noise.

Somehow they did, and after a moment he hoisted himself up onto the roof, taking a moment to catch his breath before moving around the side toward your bedroom window. He’d been dusting off his jeans when he locked eyes with your form, hand behind yourself as you raked your hair back, detangling it from what he could see. But in truth all he could focus on was the near sheer quality of your nightgown, the white fabric clinging to your skin that still appeared wet.

He could hear music softly humming from your record player, your hips swaying in tandem with the beat as you applied your moisturizer. He was mesmerized, standing like an idiot on your parent's roof staring into your bedroom window, unable to tear himself away from the heavenly sight that played out before him. Only when you turned around and locked eyes with him did he move, but in your mind, his figure didn’t register as him, it was just some random guy on your roof. So you stumbled backward, bumping into your dresser as a scream built in your chest.

Dallas could see the fear written across your face, so he moved toward the window, cursing under his breath as he motioned to his face. “It’s me!” He whisper shouted, laughter following his words as your face relaxed, fear soon replaced by blatant irritation as you padded over to your bedroom window, unlocking it and lifting it for him to crawl in.

“You’re a psychopath, you know that?” You huffed out, unable to hide the smile on your lips as you watched him duck into your bedroom. “How’d you get up here? Did you jump?”

“Porch railing.” He stated, tone nonchalant as he closed the window behind him, turning to you with a grin. “C’mon, sweetheart, don’t act like you ain’t happy to see me.”

You’d never been good at lying, especially when it came to Dallas, so instead of playing the part of an irritated girlfriend you moved toward him, looping your arms around his neck as you placed a gentle kiss on his waiting lips. You could smell cigarette smoke on his skin, surely from one he’d smoked on his way over to your house. It wasn’t too long of a walk, but you knew him well enough to know that any walk longer than five minutes would result in a cigarette between his lips.

“Missed you.” You murmured against his lips, pulling back a fraction to tilt your head back to meet his gaze. “Did you want to sleep over?”

The words were so innocent, innocent enough that it left Dallas’s heart aching in his chest, a smile he couldn’t will away if he tried writing itself across his face as you looked up at him, doe-eyes wide with hope. He nodded, placing a kiss on your forehead as you giggled in excitement.

“You chose the perfect day.” You replied, backing away from him before motioning proudly to your bed, the bedsheets and pillows all puffed up and pretty. “Just washed them, they’re nice and warm.”

He hummed out a laugh, kicking off his shoes before moving over to the bed, smoothing his hand out against the sheets. They felt silken under his touch, as much as he wanted his thoughts to remain pure he could only picture how you’d looked only a week ago, face down and rutting your hips back into him as he fucked you.

“They’re nice, doll.” He whispered, turning to you with a smile. You flushed, moving over to him before propping yourself up on the bed, white nightgown billowing with the movement, giving Dallas a perfect view of your ass before it was covered once more. He gave himself a moment, clearing his throat quietly before joining you on your bed, pulling you flush with his chest in a manner he knew you loved.

You tucked your head into his chest, breathing in his scent, the familiar mixture of cigarette smoke and cologne. You’d always loved moments like that, being held by him, savoring the shared comfortable silence. He was a rugged person, someone whose childhood was the polar opposite of your own. You never spoke of it, but in the moments he held you, resting his cheek against the top of your head, you could feel it healing something within him.

“Stuffed animals are diggin’ into my back, man.” He grumbled out, lifting himself momentarily to pull one of your stuffed animals out from underneath him. He looked down at you, holding the plush in his hand with his eyebrows raised in disbelief. “Is this new? Where the hell do they keep coming from?”

You laughed, extending out your hand to grab at the poor thing, placing it behind you on top of your pillow. “Be nice, Dal! They have feelings.”

“Sure, doll.” He responded through a laugh of his own, making himself comfortable by your side again. He’d bought you one or two, those were the ones you constantly kept on your bed, loving how they reminded you of him. But honestly, the rest were cute to you and you couldn’t pass them up. It was like your dresses or your nightgowns, if something looked cute you felt a pull to get it - and you did.

His hand traced up and down along your back, loving the feel of your nightgown paired with the warmth of your skin pouring through it. You relaxed into the touch, unconsciously arching your back whenever he’d near your neck, the sight making him laugh quietly to himself. You only hummed in response, eyes fluttering shut as you felt sleep creep onto you like a warm blanket. Dallas had a way of calming you that stunned you, little did you know you had the very same effect on him to the point that the guys had asked what had gotten into him as of late, how he wasn’t as quick to anger as he used to be. He’d tell them about you in the future, but he wanted to keep you to himself, for now, anyway.

As your breaths turned soft he watched you, a subtle smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he raised his hand to brush your hair from your face, gingerly helping it behind your ear. He hadn’t been planning on you falling asleep in his arms within the first ten minutes of him being in your room, but he wasn’t exactly complaining about the situation either. In a bid to get comfortable, he stretched his legs, a small groan emanating from his chest at the feeling. Your face scrunched, lips pouted as you pushed yourself closer to his side. He let you, wrapping his arm securely around you as he let his head fall back against one of the many pillows you had on your bed.

You couldn’t remember when you’d fallen asleep, but by the time you’d woken up the morning sun poured through your bedroom windows, your bed noticeably empty. You whined, wiping at your eyes as you tried to focus through the sleepiness still lingering in your veins.

“I’m still here.” Dallas responded, directing your attention over to one of your bedroom windows where he stood hunched over, peering out the glass. He looked over his shoulder to you, giving you a faint smile as he straightened himself out, hair a mess from having just woken up. “Your parents are gone.”

You nodded, stretching your arms over yourself as you moved to sit up on your bed. “They have work.” Your words were interrupted by a yawn, face scrunching up as the remainder of your tiredness trickled from your mind.

Dallas moved back to your bed, gentle with his movements as he placed his hands on either side of your hips, his lips seeking yours. You smiled into the kiss, hands moving to cup his jaw as you laid back on your bed, pulling him on top of you. His skin was so warm, making you shiver slightly. You nudged the sheets down with your foot, helping him underneath them before pulling them back over the both of you, enveloping you both in warmth. He moved his lips from yours, trailing kisses along your jaw and onto your throat. You tilted your head back, quiet sighs falling past your lips as you let your eyes flutter shut, focusing entirely on the feeling of Dallas touching you.

His hand smoothed up and underneath your nightgown, fingertips grazing over your clothed cunt and over your stomach, goosebumps following wherever his touch went. Your breath caught in your chest as his hand cupped your breast, thumb circling the soft skin there as his other arm rested beside your head, propping himself up over you. His knee moved between your legs, applying steady pressure to your cunt, your hips instinctually rolling down against him.

“Dal-“ You whined, feeling your wetness coating your underwear as you continued rutting against his thigh. You were desperate, desperate for his fingers, tongue, anything he’d give you. He could hear the desperation in your tone, a coy smile upon his lips as he lifted his head, leaning up to you to press a kiss to your cheek.

He hummed against your skin, hand moving to cup your sex against his knee, fingers prodding against the outline of your folds, delicately rubbing his fingers up and down. Your hips bucked into his touch, whines falling from your lips as you wordlessly begged him for more. You could hear the slickness of your arousal against his fingers, even through the fabric of your underwear. The sound caused Dallas to smile against your temple, placing a chaste kiss there before moving his hand to hook around the hem of your underwear, slowly pulling them down and off of you.

His hand moved back between your thighs, middle and ring finger separating your folds before pushing into your cunt, gingerly brushing against that spot within you that had your legs trembling against him. Your head fell back against your pillow, soft whines of his name tumbling past your lips as he pushed his fingers deeper, wanting to feel you wrapped tight around his fingers for as long as you could manage.

He trailed his lips down your cheek, onto your throat, taking a moment to leave love marks against your soft flesh before moving to kiss along your chest. You could feel his thumb circling your clit, the added sensation making you rock your hips against his touch, your cunt fluttering around his fingers.

“Can feel you squeezing my fingers, doll.” He murmured against your skin, taking your breast into his mouth, moaning against it as he began moving his fingers faster within you. You could only whimper, back arching from the bed as your arms wrapped languidly around him, not wanting him to move from his current position. When your moans picked up an octave he pulled away, slowly pulling his fingers from your cunt, but continuing his movements against your clit.

“Want you cumming on my cock.” He whispered, voice hoarse as he moved his hand from you for a moment, pulling his pants and boxers down enough to free his cock. You wrapped your legs around his hips, scooting yourself down slightly to bring your cunt flush with his hard cock. You could feel his precum smearing against your folds as he guided himself into you, his eyes fluttering at the feeling of your tight heat enveloping him, pulling him deeper within you.

As soon as he’d bottomed out inside of you he moved back up to you, arms on either side of your shoulders. He looked so angelic above you, morning sun highlighting his features, soft lips parted, hair a mess. You’d wanted to take a moment to savor him like that, but the thoughts were wiped from your mind as he rolled his hips into you, tip brushing against your cervix. Your eyebrows furrowed, a drawn-out moan leaving you as you wrapped your arms around his neck, nails subtly digging into the flesh of his back.

He smiled down at you, pulling out halfway before jutting his hips forward, the motion pulling a gasp from your lungs, cunt tightening around him. His hand moved to your hip, squeezing the muscle and plush skin as he fucked you, keeping the same slow and deep pace all the while. You moved your hand down between you, swirling your fingers around your clit as he moved within you. Your eyes stayed locked with his, loving how connected you felt in that moment.

Your free hand moved to cup the back of his neck, fingers threading through his hair. He moved his hand, grabbing your wrist that rested against his shoulder, intertwining his fingers with yours before pressing it back against the bed. You tightened your grasp on his hand, the cold metal of his ring digging into your knuckle, but you only cared about the way he looked down at you, how his cock felt buried inside of you, brushing against that spot paired with your fingers circling your clit.

You could feel your orgasm building in your lower stomach, your hips beginning to rock with his, cunt squeezing around his cock. He sucked in a sharp breath, exhale faltering as he leaned down to connect your lips once more. You moaned into the kiss, squeezing his hand harder as you felt your orgasm sweep through you, causing your hips to jerk slightly as he continued fucking you through it. He swallowed your moans, not pulling away from the kiss until his lungs burned, aching for air.

He pulled away with a groan, eyebrows furrowed together as he pulled out of you, hand moving down to pump himself through his orgasm, painting your lower stomach milky white with his cum. You caught your breath, watching with parted lips as he fucked his hand, the way his head fell back, a moan falling past his lips. The sight was gorgeous enough to make you clench around nothing.

His eyes moved back up to yours, a soft smile enveloping his lips as he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. You smiled, tilting your head back to feel his lips against yours. He smiled into the kiss, tilting his head to the side to press kisses against your cheek and jaw, the softness of it making you laugh, eyes squeezing shut at the ticklish feeling of his laughter brushing against your skin.

He moved to lay beside you, a short groan following the movement, causing you to look over at him. He sighed, an irritated sound as he arched his back up, fishing another stuffed animal free from underneath his back. He looked at you, the look making you cover your mouth to conceal another fit of laughter.

“You have too damn many.” He grunted out, placing the stuffed animal onto the pillow beside you. “Too damn many.”

You pouted, wiping your lower stomach free of his cum with the bottom of your nightgown, making a mental note to hide the fabric at the bottom of your laundry hamper before he left. You rolled over to face him, leaning up to place a kiss on his nose.

“Not enough.” You replied, words ending in a giggle as he rolled his eyes, although a hint of a smile could be found tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Whatever you say, doll.”

A/N: My phone died editing this. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this! Even if you skip it over I appreciate the interaction with my work nonetheless. As always, you can find my work over on my ao3 account under the user, “Unscriptural.” I hope you guys enjoy soft Dallas as much as I do!

[wannaseewhatshangin]

Dallas Winston x insecure reader

You were never the type to wear makeup that much

But you were starting to have a feeling lately that you need to.

You did your makeup but you didn’t feel like it did anything.

You cried and cried, your mascara running down your cheeks

You felt a tap on your window, snapping you out of your pity party.

You open your window to see your best friend Dallas

“Woah! What’s wrong with you?” He said, referring to the messy makeup that you ruined while crying as he crawled into your room

That made you cry even more

“Y/n?…” he said, sitting next to you on your bed as your sobbed into your pillow

“What’s wrong, doll?” He asked, moving your hair out of your face.

You sniffled

“Dallas. Am I pretty? Be honest.” You said, holding back tears, waiting for them to fall

He looked at you with the most confused expression you have ever seen him with.

“Where is all of this coming from? You have never cared about this before.” He said, scooting closer to you

“Dally. Just answer my question.” You said, on the verge of heartbreak.

He looked over onto your dresser, grabbing your makeup wipes, gently wiping away the makeup.

He looked at your lips, then bringing himself out of his trance before continuing to wipe away your makeup on your lips.

He put the wipes in the garbage can and scooter next to you, putting the blanket over you.

“Y/n..I know this wasn’t what you were expecting me to say..but..”

This scared you. Was he telling you that you were ugly? Was he saying he didn’t want to be your friend anymore? You can’t lose him. He’s your best friend.

“Y/n, you are the most beautiful, intelligent, sweetest person I have ever laid my eyes upon. And I don’t ever want you to think that you aren’t worth anything. Because you are worth all of my time.”

He paused, taking a breath, looking like he’s been bottling this up.

“You make me really happy and- y/n don’t you know that you give me butterflies when you’re around? You have the most beautiful eyes and smile that I have ever seen. So don’t..do this ever again.. you know..putting yourself down..”

You questioned what he meant. Maybe you were thinking of this in a different way.

“What are you getting at, Winston.”

“I’m telling you that I’m in love with you? Duh.” He said, with a ‘as a matter of fact’ tone.

You looked at him with the most shocked expression before jumping into his arms, hugging him.

“I love you too Dallas”

“I know, doll.” He said, trying not to show his smile.

[rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me]

Next song=Colors. I've done this one before but never just with Dallas. Presenting how the two kids met.

Your little brother never tells you but he loves you so You said your mother only smiled on her TV show

Just a little peek at Dally's backstory in my opinion. We've heard about his father but nothing about brothers or mothers. I think his mother started out kind but years of marriage to Dally's father kinda messed her up. Distanced her and made her hate Dally cause he looks like his father. He has a little brother he cares about but wants to avoid because he doesn't want to set a bad example. Meanwhile all that his brother wants to do is hang onto Dally. So he is spending less and less time at home. One night when he was hanging around downtown getting into fights and drinking to forget his home life he meets M/C.

You're only happy when your sorry head is filled with dope I hope you make it to the day you're 28 years old

This is something M/C says to him when they meet him. One thing he admires about them is their honesty. If they see him acting a fool they will say so regardless of whether or not Dally is wont to get mad and/or violent. M/C isn't scared of Dally and its kind of refreshing.

You're dripping like a saturated sunrise You're spilling like an overflowing sink

Dally is pretty messed up right now. He's been drinking and the adrenaline high from winning fights isn't helping. M/C is worried he will end up hurting himself or others so at first they try to convince him to go home but when it becomes clear that he is not willing to do that they bring him to their place in the wealthier part of town.

You've ripped at every edge but you're a masterpiece And now you're tearing through the pages and the ink

Even drunk and covered in bruises M/C can tell how attractive Dally is.

Everything is blue His pills, his hands, his jeans And now I'm covered in the colors Pulled apart at the seams And it's blue And it's blue

Everything is grey His hair, his smoke, his dreams And now he's so devoid of color He don't know what it means And he's blue And he's blue

the chorus is the inner monologue of M/C as they walk with Dallas through the streets.

You were a vision in the morning When the light came through

Switch to Dallas's point of view and he is waking up in a strange bed in a big room that screams wealth. M/C has done their best to tone it down, painting the tiled floor yellow and covering the walls with posters but just the sheer size of the room is enough to disorient Dallas, who is used to waking up beside his brother in a room just big enough to fit a twin sized bed and the boys clothes in piles on the foot of floor space surrounding it (note the lack of a dresser.) While he is still trying to catch his bearings M/C walks in, passing in front of the big window covering half of the space on the east wall. Dally was too drunk to realize it last night but holy shit this person is gorgeous.

I know I've only felt religion when I've lied with you

M/C gave Dally their bed and went to sleep on the couch. Just want to clear that up, they didn't actually lie together.

Dally has never really thought about god and religious stuff. The only reason he wears his St. Christophers is because his mother gave it to him before she went downhill. But when M/C walks in Dally's groggy mind immediately assumes that they are an angel. Clearly no human being can be this attractive.

You said you'll never be forgiven 'til your boys are too And I'm still waking every morning but it's not with you

M/C is talking with Dally about all the stuff he is involved in (gang stuff and the like) and they mention that he should really stop. Dallas responds that his fellow gang members are his family and "I'm not gonna leave and be forgiven for the stuff I've done with my gang till the rest of my boys are too."

I'm actually really proud of this one. I think it really works given the plot and everything.

Oh, how I love. Oh, how I adore. This is simply adorable!!

[lesterplatt]

AUTHENTICALLY YOU from Cesar Velasco on Vimeo.

About a year ago, I drove through an ice storm from Washington DC back to Dallas in order to make Authentically You. It was an extremely difficult time for me—but because this project was so close to my heart, it got me through. Like Grandes Momentos, this piece is a personal testament to the places and people that made me who I am. Using a docu-style commercial approach, Authentically You conveys a sense of personal style and story, merging both my background in the Dallas & Denton Music scene with my craft in filmmaking. It was a challenging and cathartic revelation both on set and its final form as to who I was, who I am and who I yearn to be.

Thank you to everyone involved in this–Every single cast member and location in this piece has a strong attachment both to a very unique scene of artists and to myself. Thank you to the dedicated crew who understood the intricacies of my vision and supported me throughout it all.

Finally, I want to give a huge shout out to every single musician in Denton and Dallas and beyond. For giving me a home when I needed it the most, for being my friends when no one else would, and for inviting me in without hesitation. To the relentlessness of those living in the margins by their own means, to every artists that says “fuck you” to the status quo and dreams bigger than most people dare. To those that stay true to who they are and live with continual authenticity and intention.

Thank you for inspiring me, thank you for giving me a place. This one is for my band, my friends, and finding home in Denton, Texas.

Cast & Crew:

Production Company: HiRai Creative Writer / Director / Camera Operator: Cesar Velasco @lilceeezzz Executive Producer: Ryan Blitzer @ryanblitzer Director of Photography: Matt Sill @mattsill Producer: Caitlyn Birdsong @caitlynbirdsong Producer: Madeleine Beck @madeleine_leighh Associate Producer: Blaine Stricklin @blainedstricklin Creative Producer: Lyndsay Knecht @lynds.tk 1st Assistant Director: Gleason Barber @gleasongrills

Steadicam: KC Kennicutt @kc_kentuckyjokes 1st Assistant Camera: Kyle Novak @kylenovakvisuals 2nd Assistant Camera: Brennan Freeze @brennan.freeze Digital Imaging Technician: David Gleason @david.gleason

Gaffer: Juan Romero @gafferjuan Best Boy Electric: Mark Herrmann   Electric: Mike Marquett @mikeymarq Electric: Roy John Bulls @royjohnbulls Key Grip: Nathan Telck @fivedogfilms Best Boy Grip: Matt Letson    Grip: Ryan Serr @rserr18 Grip: Blaine Stricklin @blainedstricklin

Production Designer: Chad Yaro @cyaro41 Leadman: Oscar Quevedo @o_quevedo Set Dresser: Magan Knuckles @glassgrip Set Dresser: Megan Koym @meggykrueger

Prod. Sound Mixer: Ferris Shaheen @gfs.sound Boom Operator: Jerry Maynard @soundmayne 

Hair & Makeup: Elinia Eads @elinia.eads

PA: David Soto @littlebigtime007 PA: Franco Mililotto @james_franco07 PA: Marvin Lanier @lanier.marvin PA: Max Soto

Editor: Jackson McMartin @postflaxenjackson Editor: Ben Montez @usernamebenistaken Color: Alice Abrams @alice.filmcolor Music and Sound Company: Sound Industries @sound_industries Composers: Nick Green and Nick Tuttle Sound Design: Reinhard Denke @reinhard_denke Sound Mix: Andrew Hulett @drewsky.hulett Drum Score: Cesar Velasco + Billie Grey Heck @lilceeezzz @billiegreyheck Drum Performance: Billie Grey Heck @billiegreyheck

Camera: MPS @mpsfilm G&E: MPS @mpsfilm Production Supplies: TX Supply Co @txsupplyrentals

Camera: Arri Alexa Mini LF @arri Lenses: Leica-R Primes @leica_camera

Drummer: Billie Grey Vracin @billiegreyheck Bandmate: Katie Reese @katie_reese Bandmate: Danny Tantrum @danny.tantrum House Venue: KiKi’s House Rehearsal Space: Rubber Gloves Rehearsal Studios @rgrsdentontx Van: Ben Scott @grave_combo Special Thanks to:  Ben Scott @grave_combo Chad Witherspoon @buffaloballet Lauren Belmore // Patrick Michot //  Rachel Weaver // Dahlia Knowles // @dhaliaqk Michale Briggs // @cereboso Rob // @hummusandbeanchips Ricky & many more

[lokilickedme]

The Queen of Springtown

I’m going to tell you a story.  It’s a true story.  There’s a bit of conjecture here and there to fill in empty spots, but not a lot.  It’s a story about my grandmother - my paternal grandmother, not my maternal grandmother - I feel the need to specify who exactly it is because mom’s mom has a bit of a story too, but that’s for later.

This one’s about the one I’m going to call Elizabeth.  Elizabeth was her middle name, it was a family name, it belonged to her mother and her grandmother I believe, though I didn’t know any of those people so I couldn’t swear by it.  The family records are long gone if they ever existed.

Elizabeth’s last name was one of those romantically ridiculous names that still clung to old families at the turn of the century.  It had a lot of extraneous letters at the end, a handful of unnecessary and partially silent sounds that looked beautiful in the flowery handwritten script of the time, a noble sounding -eaoux that did little more than tag a fancy sounding o onto the back end.  A lot of fuss for such a little piece of sound.  And when Elizabeth’s grandfather moved his family from France to Ireland and signed the manifests upon arrival in the new old land, he dropped the -eaoux and shortened the family’s name to four tiny letters and a single syllable.  They were Irish now.

Elizabeth’s father carried the new name and the new heritage, and when he was of age he went and married an Irish beauty named - yep, Elizabeth.  They say she was redheaded and blue eyed and fair skinned, though no pictures exist to prove it.  All that exists is my grandmother, who supposedly looked just like her mama.  She didn’t remember Ireland...she was too young when her daddy moved his family to a new land just like his own daddy had done, and she never really told anyone she was Irish.  No one actually knew, once her parents were gone.

But you could tell.  She looked it - flame red hair, china blue eyes, fair skin.  She had the bones of whatever French nobility had been in her lineage from way back, but her colors were the Emerald Isle all the way.  A beauty like you’d see in the movies, petite and ladylike and perfectly put together.

But my god that woman had a wild streak that dated right back to the Celts whose blood made up half of what she was.

(continued under the cut because long story)

So Elizabeth grew up in America, the daughter of an Irish mother and a French father.  She had brothers and sisters, quite a few, though I never knew any of them.  I believe I met two of them when I was too young to remember much about the encounter, but I’ve always found it hilarious that one of her sisters was named Bill.  Bill, like the man’s name.  I never found out why and I’m not entirely sure there was ever actually a reason.  It was just one of those things.

The newly American family settled in Texas.  And when Elizabeth was very young - probably not yet in her 20′s, though nobody knows for sure just how old she actually was because it’s likely she tended to fib a bit about her age to get into places she had no business being - she got herself involved with the Texas mafia.

Now let me tell you a thing or two about the Texas mafia.  It wasn’t an official operation - not like the Italian Mafioso or the Eastern Syndicates or whatever the hell was going on between Florida and Cuba at the time.  But it was every bit as dangerous and vicious and bloody and corrupt as any of those bigger organizations, and it was led for the most part by a man I’m going to call Big Joe.

This was the early 1940′s or thereabouts.  Elizabeth was a party girl - up for anything, always out and about, girl-gang at the swing club, the works.  And Big Joe saw her in the club one night, it may very well have been his club she was dancing at, and the proverbial first-sight thing kicked him hard in the gonads.  This girl was a looker, and she was dancing with everyone in the place, whooping it up, living life like tomorrow it was all going to take a header into the sea.  He had to have her.

And he did.

Big Joe was likely in his late 30′s, maybe early 40′s.  There’s not a lot of information on him other than a handful of facts mentioned once and only once by my grandmother to my aunt - that Big Joe was a handsome man, big and tough and a snazzy dresser, and he always had enough money in his pocket to take Elizabeth anywhere she wanted to go and buy her anything she wanted to buy.  And Elizabeth, party girl extraordinaire, was all up for that.

So Elizabeth and Big Joe become a thing.  Everybody knows she’s his squeeze - and suddenly not a male soul in Dallas or the surrounding metropolitan areas will dare to lay an eye on her, not even a quick glance, because she’s Big Joe’s girl.  And that means something.  Elizabeth doesn’t know quite what it means because she’s likely not even 20 yet, but Big Joe is fun and romantic and he takes her on trips and buys her nice clothes.  He buys her a ring, a blood red garnet, a ring that I inherit many decades later.  He’s going to marry her, he says.  She doesn’t care much one way or the other, she’s having too much fun dancing every night in his club, traveling with him, going shopping, rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous of the Southwest.  She’s all but a star, protected and adored.  Big Joe’s men follow her everywhere she goes when she’s not with him.  And Big Joe starts going out of town without her a lot, taking care of business that he never tells her the details of.

She’s cool with that.  He’s a businessman, that’s what he’s always told her.  Things to take care of out of town.  The Boss.  He has a lot of operations to oversee, operations that make all that money he spends on her.

She has no idea what he actually does.

All she knows - or cares to know - is that when he comes back to town he ushers her around town in his big fancy black car, buying her furs and expensive dinners, showing her off to society.  When he isn’t slapping her around...but hey, that’s part of the deal isn’t it?  It’s the 1940′s, and Big Joe is very much a man of the era.  Women grew up knowing they’d have to take the back of a man’s hand from time to time, and Elizabeth knew which side her bread was buttered on.  She kept Big Joe happy, put a smile on his face, did the old grin-and-bear-it on the rest of it.

And then one night Big Joe comes banging on her door.  He’s frantic.  He pushes a set of keys into her hand - keys to the fancy black car that takes her everywhere - and tells her to keep it there, at her house.  Don’t drive it anywhere, just keep it there.  He’ll contact her soon and tell her what to do.

He leaves in another car with one of his men, and that’s the last time Elizabeth ever sees him.

A few weeks later she gets a letter from Big Joe telling her to drive the car into Grapevine Lake, on the far side by the shoals.  Don’t open the trunk, he says.  Put a brick on the gas pedal and put it in drive.  Do it at night and make sure nobody sees you.

That night Elizabeth picks up her best friend and they drive the car to Grapevine to do as Big Joe said, sinking it in the murky green water on the far side of the lake.  The two girls - just girls, barely even women yet - stand on the shore watching it disappear into the deep dark.

A week later Big Joe is shot to death.  A deal gone bad maybe, or a competitor moving into the territory.  Nobody really knows - grandmother never said.  Don’t think I haven’t done my research...I know what I know, and according to a nearly nonexistent little trove of newspaper articles microfiched in a tiny little library in Azle Texas that isn’t even there anymore, odds are very likely that Big Joe went down in a shootout with the Dallas Police Department.

Elizabeth never opened the trunk of that car.  At least she said she didn’t...it’s one of the many things that nobody ever knew or will ever know, because once she shut the door on that part of her life and moved on, it might as well have never happened.  Getting this much out of her was outrageously difficult.  Thanks to my very tenacious and very persevering aunt, what I’ve just told you managed to survive.  It’s very likely my aunt was the only person she ever told, and it’s very likely I in turn am the only person my aunt ever told.  And now my aunt is in her 70′s and in poor health, and this little unknown family story has started poking around at the back of my skull.  I don’t want it to be lost.  I don’t like the idea of soon being the only person alive who knows it.  It’s not a spectacular story, but it’s testament to the fact that extraordinary things happen to ordinary people, probably more often than you’d think - and that those ordinary people sometimes take it all to the grave with them.

Elizabeth - my dad’s mom, my grandmother, the one I look like and act like and laugh like, the one whose cheekbones and eyes and hair and size I was born with, passed away twenty-something years ago.  She lived through some extraordinary things.  After the demise of Big Joe she married an oil roughneck, one of the semi-transient oilfield workers that were prevalent in the Texas Panhandle at the time, and had two children with him - one of whom was my father.  The roughneck was the epitome of the James Dean romantic brooding bad boy type, handsome and manly, but unfortunately also a scoundrel who had a second family in another city that he went to every other month when he traveled to another rig for work.  She left him when she found out.  It was almost unheard of at the time, a young mother taking her two little kids and leaving her husband to be on her own, but she did it.  And when my father was 12 she met and married a very tall, very handsome, very Cary Grant-esque railroad worker who loved life every bit as much as she did.

They were together for the rest of her life.  I’ve never to this day seen two people more in love than Elizabeth and Jesse.  I spent many summers in Texas with them and not a night went by that I couldn’t hear them giggling in the next room after lights-out, talking and laughing quietly until granddad’s wallshaking snores echoed through the house.  It just about killed him when her heart gave out.  But she was old, and she’d lived a life worth living.  There was nothing in her face in those final moments that could ever convince anyone she wasn’t ready and willing to go when the time came.

I’d been married for a couple of years when she died, and my husband and I traveled to Texas for the funeral.  The first night there, as my aunt brought out grandmother’s jewelry box and told me to take whatever I wanted, the story was passed from her to me.  And when it was all told I opened a little drawer in the bottom of the jewelry box and pulled out an old garnet ring that I’d seen before, when I was a small child snooping in grandma’s stuff.  I’d always been fascinated with it...it just looked like it had a story to tell.  That’s it, my aunt said.  That’s the ring he gave her.  That’s all she ended up with.

It was the only thing I took.

The church was so full the next morning you’d have thought it was the final sendoff for some local celebrity.  Everybody loved my grandmother, everybody, but this was sort of astounding.  Some of them I knew from my childhood, from many many summers spent in the Panhandle, but people came from all over to say goodbye and nobody in the family knew who a lot of them were.  They just showed up, some of them cried, some just stood in the back of the church all stoic in black suits.  Some were very old.  And when it was over and I turned around to watch a group of distinctly important-looking old gentlemen quickly and quietly leave the building, I looked over at my aunt and pointed at them.  She arched her eyebrows in that way she always did, that way, the way that said What did I tell you?? - and I wondered if maybe all those years ago some of Big Joe’s men hadn’t pulled that car out of Lake Grapevine and found the trunk empty.

I mean...this is Elizabeth we’re talking about.

[themetaphorgirl]

i feel like i’m sending you so many messages and i feel bad so i’m sorry this is the last one i swear but imagine spencer having a bad day and then something pushes him over the edge and he just starts crying for hotch or alex to make it better :( they’re so parental towards him it makes my heart happy - 🧃

just for you, my sweet lil juicebox angel!!! I hope it helps you feel better!! <3 <3 <3

----------

It was a bad day.

Typically he did his best think logically. Things happened for specific reasons, and if something didn’t go the way he intended, surely there was a way to fix it.

But he didn’t sleep well (again, really, he ought to be used to it by then, but still) and he woke up groggy and cranky, and Derek was in his way, and he just wanted to go back to bed but it wasn’t an option.

And his well-worn backpack popped the zipper again, dumping his things in a puddle on his way to breakfast, and it took him so long to gather everything up that he didn’t have time to eat.

And his homework was wet, and his math teacher wouldn’t accept it.

And he stayed late to redo his work, and he was so late for lunch he didn’t even bother to go.

And Neal and Dallas surrounded him during history class, stealing his pencils when he wasn’t paying attention to them, and when he paid attention they were the perfect students, and the second he let his guard down they were kicking his desk and flicking spitballs at him.

And he was a genius, everyone told him so, but that didn’t mean that everything came easily, and he got a high C on his English essay because sometimes the thoughts in his head didn’t always translate to paper, sometimes they spilled out tangled because he was ten years old and his brain wasn’t fully formed, less fully formed than the fourteen- and fifteen-year-olds who got the same grade on the same work.

He didn’t even feel like going to the library, he didn’t feel like reading. And he shouldn’t feel that way, bad days didn’t actually exist, he just needed to suck it up and be mature. He thought that maybe he could sneak into the amphitheater and study quietly on his own, but the second he got comfortably the skies opened, pouring rain on him, and by the time he made it back to Lincoln House he was drenched and cold, his hair plastered to his forehead and his uniform dripping dark puddles on the floor.

He trudged up the stairs to the seventh floor, gritting his teeth. There was no reason to get upset. He was mature. He was responsible. He fit in here. He just needed to keep it together.

The younger half of the group piled around the common room; Emily was painting her nails and the scent of the polish twisted into an irritated headache. He had to sidestep Penelope’s laptop left abandoned on the floor, and Derek’s heap of sports equipment, and the two of them were playing a bright colored videon game with JJ, shouting at each other, the piercing cheerful audio dialed up too loud and digging into his ears. 

“Oh, Spencer, there you are,” Emily said. “You mind taking a look at my trig homework? After what happened in class today I can’t afford to fuck up.”

His backpack fell to the floor with a wet splat. Emily didn’t look up from her nails. “It shouldn’t take too long,” she said. “I mean, shit, for you it’ll take about ten minutes.”

“And when you’re done, you can play on JJ’s team, she’s losing bad,” Derek laughed.

He didn’t want to look at her stupid trig homework. He didn’t want to play stupid video games. He was wet, and cold, and hungry, and his head hurt, and-

“I don’t want to!” he said, and he burst into tears.

The video game went silent instantly. Emily capped her nail polish and got up quickly from the table. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” she said. “What happened?”

“I had a bad day!” he sobbed. “And...and I want Alex!”

He buried his face in his hands and bawled. Any attempt at holding onto his composure was gone. He wasn’t a mature-for-his-age prodigy who could handle any unexpected stress thrown at him, he was only ten years old and he was over it.

Emily knelt down and gripped his elbows. “Okay, kiddo, take a breath,” she said. “You’re gonna make yourself sick.” He cried harder, his fingers beginning to pull at his hair, and he couldn’t stop. “JJ is calling Alex, she’s at the library, she’ll be here in a second, okay?”

He couldn’t stop crying, the dam had burst and he couldn’t stop crying. “Come here, munchkin,” Emily said, softer than he had ever heard her speak before, and he shoved her away and ran. He ran down the hall to his room and slammed the door, and he dropped on the floor without bothering to turn on the lights.

He didn’t want to be here anymore. His dad was right, he should have stayed in his own grade with other kids his age, he should have stayed home in Las Vegas...but his father was gone and his mother was gone and there wasn’t a home to go to anymore.

He could hear the other kids in the hallway, their voices too loud even though they tried to whisper.

“I’ve never seen him like this.”

“Is he okay? Should we be worried? I feel like we should worry.”

“Fuck if I know. I’ve never heard him ask specifically for anybody before.”

That was true. He’d never called for Alex before, or Hotch, or anybody. He couldn’t even remember calling out for his parents after a bad dream or getting sick in the middle of the night. But his exhausted little body was screaming someone come fix this, and Alex had never failed him before.

“Should we go in and check on him?”

“No way. Wait for Alex. Or Hotch. Do you know where he is?”

“RA meeting.”

“Shit.”

Spencer curled into a little ball and sobbed into the carpet, his wet clothes clawing at his skin, and the feeling overwhelmed him, twisting him tighter and tighter like a watch wound too tight, and crying didn’t make him feel any better.

The door creaked open. “Go away,” he sobbed. “Go away!”

Someone sat down beside him and touched the back of his head gently. “Spence, it’s me,” Alex said softly. 

He sat up, tears wet on his cheeks, his nose running, and he flung himself into her arms. She gathered him onto her lap, pressing his head to rest against her shoulder, and she let him cry.

He cried until his eyes were dry, almost painfully dry, and his throat ached. Alex rocked him a little, her arms secure and safe around him, and his breath caught in a shuddering sob without tears. 

The world began to settle back into place, like glitter in a snowglobe sifting back to the ground. He felt a little foolish now, the embarrassment of his temper tantrum sinking into his bones as his tossed thoughts began to fit together like puzzle pieces. But he couldn’t remember the last time that someone held him like this, letting him feel small and safe.

“Bad day?” she asked gently. He nodded. “That’s okay. Bad days happen. To everybody.”

He rubbed his cheek against her shoulder; the fabric of her blazer smelled like the library’s old books and the faint scent of her violet perfume. “I’m sorry I cried,” he whispered.

“Don’t be sorry,” she said. “You’re allowed to cry.” She kissed the top of his head, and he couldn’t remember the last time someone kissed him. “Do you feel better?” 

He sighed, shaky and tear-wet. “Uh-huh.”

“What else will help?” she asked. “What can I do to help?” He shrugged. “No, don’t do that. Don’t shut back down on me. Pick one thing. Tell me one thing I can do to help.”

He picked at the raw skin around his thumbnail. “I’m wet,” he said at last. “I got stuck in the rain.”

“You want to dry off and change your clothes?” she asked. He nodded. “Okay. We can do that.”

She lifted him gently off her lap and set him on the floor. He began to pull at his shoelace as she turned on the lights and rummaged through his dresser drawers.

The dry clothes helped; he was warmer now, and she’d picked out a soft tee shirt and a pair of flannel pajama pants, both with the labels cut out to keep from scratching at his skin. She smoothed out his wet hair, fixing the worst of the tangles. “Is that better?” she asked. He nodded. “What else can I do to help?”

“I’m hungry,” he said, and this time it was easier to say what he needed. 

Alex smiled. “We can do that,” she said, and he trusted her.

[greasers-stole-my-social-life]

Get Back//Darry x Reader//Modern AU

Prompt: After y/n and her boyfriend, Darry, take a break, Darry tries to win her back with advice from his brothers and friends.

A/N: I randomly had an idea to write this and thought it was really cute! It’s been awhile since I’ve written, so bare with me! I hope y’all enjoy!!

T/W: A little bit of yelling and a little bit of swearing, but for the most part, it’s pretty darn fluffy!!

Y/n lays awake staring at the ceiling, waiting for her boyfriend to come home. She’s been thinking of ways to surprise him, and after months of planning, she decided that he would probably prefer just a simple night in. She made him and his brothers some dinner, cleaned the house with some help from their friends, and planned on watching TV with him in the living room and staying the night. But the dinner soon got cold, the dishes piled up, and y/n got tired of waiting in the living room, so she waited in his bedroom instead. 

It’s safe to say that they have been distant recently with y/n’s new job and the extra hours that Darry took on at work so that he could make rent this month. It wasn’t anyone’s fault--they both knew that--but the distance was definitely taking a toll on their relationship. Sometimes, she would come over after work to see him but he wouldn’t be home, and sometimes, he would stop by her place but she wouldn’t be home. They’d call each other when they would get the chance, but one of them would either be at work or falling asleep on the other end of the phone due to the exhaustion of working all day. They hated to admit it, but they were beginning to have doubts about being in a relationship. They loved each other, but maybe the timing just was not right.

Just as y/n’s eyes begin to grow heavy, Darry opens his bedroom door, slightly jumping at the sight of his beautiful girlfriend in his bed. “Hi, baby,” y/n chirps, sitting up with a smile. “Hi, y/n,” he smiles briefly, walking over to her and pecking her on the lips. As Darry goes into his dresser to change into some sweats and a tank top, y/n gets up and wraps her arms around his torso, kissing him on his neck. He tenses up and removes her arms from him before turning to face her. “I’m not in the mood. I’ve had a long day, and I just wanna sleep,” he states curtly, turning back around to close the drawer. Trying to make the best of the situation, y/n smiles and wonders, “I take it you’ve had a rough day?” “Mhm,” Darry mumbles, kicking off his worn out boots. Y/n eyes her boyfriend and carefully thinks of what to say, but she knows that when he’s had a rough day, he couldn’t care less for small talk. 

With her feelings somewhat hurt, y/n finally asks the question she’s been dreading, “Are we okay?” Darry sighs deeply, softening his sore muscles and allowing his arms to hang at his sides, his clean clothes still in hand. He slowly turns to face her and looks down at the floor as he quietly confesses, “I don’t know, babe.” Tears well up in y/n’s eyes, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t expecting him to answer so unsure. She sniffles, and quickly wipes away tears that now flow, smearing her once perfectly done makeup. “Well, alright then, I think I’m just gonna head home,” y/n murmurs before leaving Darry’s room. He stands up to follow her, but lets her go. It’s better this way.

-a month later-

The Curtis house was in its worst shape yet, and that was saying a lot. Even after Mr. and Mrs. Curtis passed away, Darry made sure to keep up with house maintenance, but his break up with y/n messed up any sense of a schedule that he once had. His brothers try to help as best as they can, but Sodapop and Ponyboy forget what needs to get done without their older brother there to remind them. 

After a long, hot day of work, Darry comes home to his brothers and their group of friends in the living room watching TV. Darry immediately tenses up at the sight of the unkempt kitchen with dishes piled up to the ceiling, spills on the counter tops, and the garbage can filled to the brim. “Pony, why isn’t the trash out?! And Soda, why aren’t the dishes done?!” Darry scolds, causing the group to jump at the sudden break from their television trance. “We forgot, Darry. Don’t worry, we’ll do it now,” Soda explains calmly as Darry storms into his room to avoid yelling more at his brothers. 

Soda and Pony begin their chores almost immediately, not wanting to upset Darry any further. “Shoot, what’s up with him? He still hung up on y/n?” Two-Bit asks before taking a swig of his beer. “Yeah...” Ponyboy trails off as he walks by Two to take the trash out. “That’s why I avoid serious relationships,” Dallas scoffs bitterly. “I’m guessing you and Sylvia are still broken up?” Steve smirks, earning a cold glare from Dal’s ice blue eyes. “It’s a shame. They were perfect together,” Johnny speaks up, fiddling with the frayed edges of his denim jacket. As Pony walks back inside, he sneers, “Darry was nicer when he was with y/n...now he’s just like he was when Mom and Dad died; cold and bitter.” Sodapop, still unfinished with the dishes, takes a seat on the edge of the couch and says, “Wish there was a way to get them back together, but Darry never wants to talk about it.” Darry, who has been listening from the hallway, enters the living room with a defeated expression and admits, “I’m open to ideas...I miss her.” 

Sodapop is the first to speak up, “You’ve gotta do something romantic, like bring her flowers and take her out somewhere real nice.” Darry walks over to his father’s chair and sits down, listening intently to the advice. “That’s too boring. He needs to surprise her, like in that one movie where the guy holds the stereo playing their favorite song,” Two-Bit suggests, his eyes still focused on the TV screen. “Why don’t you throw rocks at her window or something like that?” Dallas says as he feels around in his pockets for his carton of cigarettes. “You should also work on an apology - a real good one. You don’t wanna show up to her place with nothing good to say,” Johnny adds, knowing exactly what it’s like to get tongue-tied at the worst possible time. “You could invite her to the drive-in. They’re playing that one movie she really likes,” Ponyboy proposes. “Do y’all think this is all gonna be enough? What if she still doesn’t wanna get back together?” Darry worries, running a hand through his greased hair. “If she says no, we don’t want anything to do with her anymore,” Steve laughs, getting up to go to the kitchen. As the boys chuckle softly, Soda gives a comforting smile to Darry. This has to work.

-later that night-

As y/n tidies up the small kitchen in her apartment, she hears music coming from outside. Y/n recognizes the song, and stops scrubbing the counter tops for a moment. This was her and Darry’s song. It was the song that they had their first kiss to, the song that they would sing their hearts out to when they would drive together, and the song that they would dance to at midnight in the living room when everyone else was asleep. Y/n smiles as she reminisces, swaying her hips to the beat of the music. While washing her dishes, her window shatters, causing her to stop what she’s doing and grab a kitchen knife in case she would need to defend herself. “Damn it, Darry! I said a small pebble, not a fucking rock!” Dallas shouts, causing y/n to sigh loudly, setting the knife back down. “I didn’t mean to throw it that hard! I’ve told her plenty of times before that she needs to replace her windows, but she never listened!” Darry defends himself. She throws on a pair of shoes to avoid stepping on the glass, and stands at the window to look down at the group of greasers. Two-Bit stands beside Darry with a small radio at its highest volume, playing Darry and hers song. Darry holds a bouquet of yellow and pink flowers while Dallas walks back to Darry’s parked car where the rest of the boys watch anxiously from inside the coop and on the truck bed.

“What the hell are y’all doing?! And why the hell is my window shattered?!” y/n shouts. “Well, the window part was an accident, but that’s not why I’m here!” Darry begins as y/n stares with her arms crossed over her chest. Darry reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out note cards with his apology written out on them. Before he gets the chance to say anything, y/n’s neighbor’s window opens. An older man, about 70 years old, leans out and stares coldly at y/n before hissing, “Would you quiet down? Some of us are trying to get some sleep!” His window slams shut before y/n gets a chance to apologize. She storms out of her apartment and stomps down the old steps of her apartment building. 

As she steps outside, the cool autumn breeze greets her, causing her to cross her arms over her chest to keep warm. Darry and the rest of the gang greet her with hopeful smiles, but she most certainly does not share the same feelings at the moment. She keeps a distance between herself and Darry, keeping a stern expression before demanding, “Do you wanna tell me what the hell is going on?” Even with her stubborn expression and closed-off body language, Darry can’t help but smile dumbly at her fuming beauty. “I came to apologize,” Darry begins, completely ignoring his note cards that were carefully written out, with the help of Soda and Johnny, and placed in his jacket pocket before coming over to y/n’s apartment building. 

“I was a jerk and should’ve given you more attention when we were together. And, I shouldn’t have been so harsh with you when you were only trying to make things better. I really love you, but I know that I’m sometimes not the best at showing it. I want to be better and want to be with you, but I understand if you still need time...I’m really sorry, y/n,” Darry continues, causing y/n to drop her arms at her sides as a small start of a smile pulls the corner of her lips.

“Oh, and these are for you,” Darry says sweetly, handing the bouquet to y/n. She gladly takes the bouquet before wrapping her arms around Darry. Happily surprised, Darry holds y/n close to him before pulling back to kiss her gently. The boys cheer from the truck, causing Darry and y/n to share a laugh. As y/n rests her arms loosely around Darry’s waist, she sighs, “So how are we going to fix my window?” Darry throws his head back with a laugh before placing another kiss on y/n’s lips, remembering the taste and feeling of being in love.

[scarlettwitcher]

She’s Everything

Request: by Anon: Can I request a Steve Rogers x Reader based off the song She’s Everything by Brad Paisley? Please and thanks!

Summary: Steve thinks about Y/n

Characters: Steve, Y/n, mentions of avengers

Word Count: 2,645

Warnings: fluff everywhere, that’s it, this is just teeth rotting sweetness, italics are flashbacks

Author’s Note: So I’m gonna be gone for another week! Sorry. I’m going to Dallas to see my dad. I haven’t seen him in over 3 months. I will try to have some fics prepared to just post but if not, I hope you enjoy this one! I don’t really have a lot of marvel tags so if you do love it, please reblog it so it can reach more peeps! Requests and tags are open! Love to my girl @queenxxxsupreme for being my beta. As always, thanks for reading and feedback is welcome/needed. ALSO PSA: I will be changing my url in the next few weeks. I’ll be messaging a few people that tag me regularly about this but just so everyone knows and doesn’t freak out when they don’t see my original name. Don’t worry it’ll be similar to my old one.

“Is there something on my face Rogers?”

“No, no. You’re good.”

“Then why are you staring at me?” Steve opened his mouth to respond but nothing came out. He blushed and coughed, trying to cover up his speechlessness. You started giggling as you reached over pinching his cheek. “Awe, baby, why are you blushing?”

Steve smacked your hand away as you started laughing again and couldn’t help laughing with you. He knew he wouldn’t be able to say it yet but he just couldn’t understand how he found someone like you. Someone who could love him so effortlessly. He knew he had his faults and that the lives you both led were very dangerous. Part of him knows that’s why he appreciates you even more. Everything about you always had him in awe.

Your fashion sense was all over the place, but to Steve, you looked great in everything. One day you appeared at his door with yellow running shoes and he looked at you bewildered but accepted it. He always loved your ripped jeans because he had access to your skin, his hand always buried inside one of the holes, holding your thigh. You had boxes full of sunglasses and on every mission, you’d be wearing a different pair. Steve didn’t sweat too much since he knew you loved buying them from the gasoline station near the tower. Now and again, you’d stump him with your “I have nothing to wear!”. He’d always turn to look at the giant closet full of your clothes but he never dared say anything, not again anyways. He learned his lesson the first time when you threw a shoe at him. But his favorite was when you wore his clothes. Nothing could get him as turned on as seeing you in his clothes.

Steve thought about how much you loved chocolate, sneaking in chocolate bars into his room every night, or hot chocolate, or waking him up at three in the morning, asking him to bring you some chocolate you left in the kitchen. He thought about how much you loved going to the movie theatre even though Tony had his own movie Theatre. He scolded the both of you for wasting money when he had everything. You simply laughed and said the popcorn was better. On rough days, especially after missions, being at the theatre was one of your comfort spots and he knew this. He knew you loved being in the dark and pushing all of your worries onto the characters on the screen.

Steve smiled to himself when he thought about how much you loved staring at the stars and telling him about the constellations. It amazed him how much you knew about space. He loved windy nights when the breeze would blow your hair around, your sweet scent. The nights that had a touch of your lingering scent were always the best. He’d hold you extra tight those nights. On his rough nights, you were always there. You’d pull him onto your chest, rest his head there, letting him listen to the soft sound of your heartbeat. He always knew he could talk to you, let everything go. You’d listen intently, give him reassurance when he needed it. You’d always drag your fingers through his hair, cry with him when he needed it, and never let go, not ever.

You had always been very protective of Steve. You knew of all the pain he went through. Hell, you were with him most of the time when they happened. It’s not to say the super soldier didn’t get on your nerves either. You had only had a few fights but they were always intense. You’d both end up screaming at each other. You always had a hard time containing yourself, so mid argument, you’d leave. You’d go to the gym and pound into a sand bag until you broke it or your knuckles were broken and bleeding. Steve would always find you sitting in the corner. He’d sit down next to you and you’d talk it out. And things would be okay. It’s always how it ended. You’d be okay. You were always really affectionate with him. You’d never leave bed without kissing him somewhere on his face, never leave the room without hugging him, especially never leave the quinjet on a mission without kissing him deeply. He relished in your touches, a slave for more, a slave for your affection.

Steve couldn’t believe he found someone like you. You were what he always wanted. It took him a while to move on from Peggy. Once he met you and you hit it off, he decided it was time. He closed that chapter of his life and moved on with you. Everyone says he’s obsessed but he just knows he’s in love. Tony always kicks him out of the room when he starts to talk about you. Steve doesn’t realize it but sometimes he just talks about you for hours and hours and hours. Even you tell him he’s ridiculous. He just laughs it off and continues. He just can’t believe he has you.

Every Saturday, you’d push him to go out. He wasn’t always keen to be in public but he sucked it up and went with you, knowing if he didn’t, you’d just go out by yourself and he wanted to be around you. Somehow, you always found something different, something new to do in the city. He loved watching you light up at the poetry cafe you found, watching people read their beautiful poems, or the way your eyes would widen when you find a beautiful greenhouse on someone’s roof. You smelled like roses for days after you left there. Even though neither you nor Steve were religious, you went to church on Sundays, to accompany your parents. It was so foreign to Steve. His life was full of danger. Enemies, missions, death experiences, that was a normal Sunday for him. But church, family dinner, fancy dressing, he was way out of his element but the few hours of normal he got with you and your family was everything he ever wanted. Sometimes you couldn’t make it and it always bummed him out. He loved Sundays with your family. They had basically adopted him. When your mom passed away a year ago, she had given you her cross. You weren’t all that comfortable wearing the cross but you knew what it meant to her. So you had Tony melt it and turn it into a locket with her picture and Steve’s inside. You never took it off after that.

Steve hated Mondays but you didn’t care. Except you turned into Oscar the grouch, yelling your good amount of fuck and bitch in the morning. Steve thought it was hilarious, watching you flip him off because he said you looked like a ray of sunshine. By the end of the day, you were back to your old self. Steve helped train new agents and you always had the bath prepared for him when he returned. Bubbles littering the surface and candles on every open surface. Sometimes, you’d even join him, sitting in the tub waiting for him. These were some of his favorite moments. Steve thought back to a few months before when he had arrived to your shared room but you were nowhere to be found. After bathing and changing, he walked around the tower looking for you until he finally found you in what was the rec room. The lights were dimmed, candles everywhere, as well as rose petals. One of Steve’s favorite songs was playing softly in the background and you were standing in the middle, dolled up in a nice dress and makeup.

“What’s this? It looks really beautiful, doll.”

“This,” You twirled your fingers around, signaling to the room. “Is just me saying I love you. Dance with me.” Steve rushed over, embracing you in his arms before you both started rocking to the music. You started talking about your days, succumbing to each other, laughing and enjoying yourselves. You had poured wine and handed him a glass as you drank together. You pulled him towards the couch and you kept talking, sitting there for hours, just like you always did. After your first glass, you were a giggling mess. You were a huge lightweight and Steve always made fun of you for it. You playfully acted hurt when he called you out on it and he immediately tried to make up for it, littering your skin with kisses and promises of forever.

“Earth to Steve.” Steve came to with you snapping your fingers in front of him. He looked at you confused for a second before dragging his hand down his face.

“Sorry doll. Did I space out again?” You smirked and nodded your head before flicking his knee.

“Third time this week babe.” Steve blushed and shook his head.

“I’m sorry doll. I don’t mean to.”

“What are you thinking about so much?” You curled into his chest as you both laid in your bed. You listened to his heartbeat raise just a bit and you smiled.

“You.”

“No wonder my ears don’t stop ringing.” Steve laughed and shook his head. He kissed your forehead softly and pulled you even closer to him. It wasn’t long before you said your good nights, your soft even breathing letting him know you had fallen asleep. He sighed softly and slowly laid you down on your side of the bed before standing up and walking out to his balcony, looking out at the view. He looked over at your sleeping form and smiled to himself as he saw you took all of the covers and bundled yourself up. He was going to freeze that night for sure. He grabbed his wallet from the dresser, flipping it open and looking at the picture of you that he had in it. He had been the one to take the picture. You were at a festival that you had dragged the team on. You were so excited, you had even bought a beautiful sundress that flowed beautifully around you. You had found a dancing spot and you were letting go, dancing around like no one else was there. Steve pulled out his phone and took the picture, having it developed later on. It was one of his favorite moments with you.

Steve knew you were it for him. He was completely head over heels in love with you. He couldn’t stop himself thinking of you as his wife, the mother of his children, the woman he was to, somehow, grow old with. He couldn’t imagine his life without you in it. Once upon a time he was still hung over Peggy but he realized that maybe that love prepared him for the intensity of yours. He was thankful for it. Steve remembers exactly how he met you, actually he prayed for it. Steve wasn’t religious and he wasn’t one to pray but he was being called into a meeting with the team to evaluate some old missions, file some paperwork, all textbook, but he was going to be stuck in the room all day. While riding the elevator to the meeting room, Steve looked up for a few seconds murmuring, “I don’t know if you’re listening but please, make this meeting bearable.” The moment the prayer left his lips, the elevator stopped on a floor and you stepped in. You nodded your acknowledgement to the soldier but Steve couldn’t stop staring at you. You were so beautiful and he just couldn’t help but gawk. “You going to the meeting too?”

Steve snapped himself out of his creepiness and nodded before sighing quietly. “Yeah. I take it you are too.”

“Yeah, Stark said it was mandatory with the training. Fingers crossed nobody dies.” Steve chuckled but before he could respond, Natasha and Clint joined on the elevator and you got to chatting away with the other Avengers, being rather familiar with them. Immediately, Steve took a liking to you and after the meeting, cornered Natasha several times, trying to get information about you.

Steve smiled fondly at the memory as he stared at the night sky, watching the clouds slowly pass by. He replayed most of his favorite memories of the both of you in his head. He wondered if this was how the rest of his life with you was going to be. He imagined you and him in your small house in the woods. You’re both sitting on your rocking chairs on the porch, watching the lake next to your home. You’d be making fun of Steve for putting his pants on backwards that morning and he’d make fun of you for burning the eggs. That was what Steve wanted, to grow old with you.

Steve watched as you moved in your sleep and felt the love blossoming in his chest. He didn’t know how it was possible but he just kept loving you more and more everyday. He knew it, you knew it, everyone knew it. They could see it in the way he looked at you, the way he lunged himself in front of you to protect you on missions. The way he made you breakfast and took you to your favorite restaurants. The way he took an obscene amount of pictures of you and talked about you every chance he got. He was a fool in love.

Steve knew why he was losing himself in thought a lot more than usual. He was reminiscing before he made his decision. He was ready. He wanted it to be nice, something amazingly beautiful and he knew he’d do it soon but he had to do it now. He moved back to the bed and crawled in next to you. He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. His cold skin against your warm one made you groan quietly in your sleep. He kissed your head and slowly kissed down your face, peppering you with kisses. When he got to your neck, you hummed quietly, slowly waking up. He kissed down your chest and you were now conscious. You ran your fingers through his hair and smiled in your sleep. “You better have a good reason for waking me Rogers.” You said playfully.

“You think I want you to kick my ass?” You giggled and finally opened your eyes, being met with bright, blue ones. He looked at your face with pure adoration before kissing you softly. He fidgeted nervously before pulling back. You furrowed your brows but decided to not ask, letting him take a moment. It took everything in him to get the words he wanted but he looked at you seriously and took a deep breath. “Y/n, I have never met anyone so stubborn, so determined, so loving and kind, I’ve never met anyone like you and I’m glad I never will because you are one of a kind. You make me such a better person, someone I didn’t think I could be any more. You give me hope for tomorrow and for the future. You’re such a pain in the ass but I wouldn’t have you any other way. I want to be with you for the rest of my life, ” Steve moved to reach into his small bedside dresser, opening his sock drawer and pulling out a velvet box. You watched with wide, teary eyes, your breath hitching when you saw the box. He slowly opened it, showing you the beautiful ring inside. “This past week I’ve been so lost in my mind, I’ve just been thinking about you and us. Thinking about how we fell in love. I know you are what I want. I want to grow old with you and have kids. You are it. So, doll, will you marry me?”

Forever Tags: @iwantthedean @authoressskr @sorenmarie87 @reigningqueenofwords @goldenolaf25 @giftofdreams @winchesterprincessbride @chelsea072498 @kitchenwitchsuperwhovian @itakeawfultoawholenewlevel @fictionalabyss @gabby913 @angelkurenai @sea040561 @sleepylunarwolf @smoothdogsgirl @carryonmyswansong @feelmyroarrrr @evyiione @sofreddie @sis-tafics @nitelotus @trexrambling @dancingalone21 @manawhaat @mermaidxatxheart @winchest09 @ellen-reincarnated1967 @mrswhozeewhatsis @just-another-busy-fangirl @lovebodymindstuff @backseat-of-deans-67chevy @chook007 @akshi8278 @evansrogerskitten @bringmesomepie56 @brooklymw @persephonehemingway @blacktithe7 @donnaintx

Marvel Tags: @captain-rogers-beard​ @imamotherfuckingstar-lord​ @stretchkingblog97​

[thevillagesalons]

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[myhockeyworld87]

Unspoken - Jamie Benn

Requested: No

Song Inspiration: Thomas Rhett - Marry Me

Word Count: 3808

Warnings: I think I kept it to a minimum of one swear word. Yay for me! 

Notes: Yeah, I’m still in the Jamie Benn feels, and when I was listening to this song I just thought of him; because he seems so damn honorable and loyal. Plus you guys really seemed to like the other two Jamie Benn ones I wrote. Also, (Y/FN) is your full name. Enjoy!

JAMIE’S POV

 It was the day that you’d dreaded most since you came into this world. Twenty-nine years, it had taken that long for this day to come; the day you handed off the woman you loved to someone else. Six years old, that’s when you first met her. Her family had moved into the house next to yours; you’d spied on her that day, and numerous days after. Hair up in pigtails, carrying a doll; she walked into the house she’d call home for the next fifteen years.

 You’d been hoping that your new neighbors would have a boy that you could play with, but instead all you got was a dumb little girl. With time, that same stupid girl became your best friend. She was at every hockey game, cheering from the stands; your name hand written on the back of some t-shirt. She held all your secrets over the years, but one. It was her who held your hand the night before the draft, trying to calm your nerves; even though she should’ve been someplace else, with someone other than you.

 The day you left for Dallas you’d both cried; you’d been eighteen then, and not only were you leaving your family you were leaving (Y/N). She was the one constant thing in your life over the last twelve years; other than your family. Letting go of her that day was like losing a piece of yourself; little did you know it was only going to be magnified hundred fold today.

Even though over two-thousand miles separated you; you still would talk to her every day; and as her college years passed, you found yourself urging her to move closer to you. And so she did. Finding a job less than ten miles from where you lived. Now instead of some home-made t-shirt, she’d wear your jersey to home games; as she continued her support of your career. Never in a million years would you have thought, that support would lead her into another man’s arms.

 They’d literally run into each other, during intermission at one of your games; him offering to buy her a drink after the encounter. From there you saw her slip from your grasp one day at a time. Oh she still came to the games, only this time she wasn’t seated in the section reserved for player’s family; she was seated beside him. Fate was cruel to you, as it had his seats down low toward the glass; so that as you’d warm up you could watch him whisper sweet words in her ear or steal a kiss.

 All of which led up to the day she called you excitedly, telling you she got engaged. You’d tried to sound happy for her; even though your heart had just shattered into a billion pieces. Problem was you couldn’t even hate the guy; by all means he was everything she deserved. He just wasn’t you. So here you stood, night before her big day, off in the corner; beer in one hand, whiskey in the other, as you drown your sorrows. There wasn’t enough liquor in North America to numb the pain in your heart.

 Vaguely, you thought about confessing your feelings to her; but that wouldn’t be fair to her. Her happiness meant more to you than anything; even if that meant you had to give her up. Your eyes stalked her; watching her smile and chat amiably with all those gathered to celebrate the happy couple. You were so engrossed in following her, you hadn’t seen her father step beside you; until his hand was on your shoulder. “Son, if you don’t say something to her tonight; I will.” Head whipping around as his words sunk in, you quirked a brow at him. “I can’t stand by and watch you both make any more mistakes. If I thought he could make her happy, I wouldn’t be here talking to you right now; but you and I both know he’s not the right man for her.” Looking you deep in the eyes, he added softly “You are.”

 He was gone, as quickly as he came; swallowed up in the crowd of well-wishers; leaving you to contemplate your fate. Was he right? Was there a chance that she was making a mistake? The better question here was; did she feel the same way about you, as you did her? There would only be one way to find out; and you were man enough to know that it had to come out of your lips.

 Patiently you waited as guest after guest retired for the evening; all getting a good night’s rest before tomorrow’s festivities. That’s when you saw her go upstairs; to the room she’d moved into all those years ago. Taking the stairs two at a time, you trailed after her. Knocking softly, you didn’t wait for her to answer as you entered her room; closing the door and the rest of the world behind you. She stood there, back to you; staring at the most perfect white gown hanging on her floor length mirror. She didn’t turn around, didn’t need to; you could already see her reflection. Eyes wide, gazing not at the delicate beads and lace of the dress; but burrowing deep down into yours.

 You swallowed hard as a vision of her in that dress walking down the aisle towards you formed in your mind; but you couldn’t get to that image unless you spoke your truth now. “(Y/N)” it was then that she turned and faced you. Inhaling deeply, you gathered your wits, as to what you would say next. Running your hands through your hair once, you stuck them in your pockets to prevent yourself from reaching for her; all the while she just stared back at you, willing you to say more.

 Finding your voice you spoke the words that you’d pushed back for years. “Don’t do this (Y/N). You know it’s a mistake. You shouldn’t be with him.” She didn’t speak, just blinked rapidly at what she’d just heard come out of your mouth. Her chest rose and fell, as she tried to take in more oxygen; gathering her courage to say something back. Though there was more you needed to tell her. “He’s not the right man for you.” Echoing the words her father had spoken only hours ago to you. “I am. I love you (Y/N). I have for years; I just didn’t know how to tell you. And I know this is a lousy time to tell you. But I was afraid if I didn’t, we’d both lose out on something special.”

 A tear slid down her cheek; and it took every ounce of strength you had, not to wipe it away. Instead you stood, stalk still willing her to express her love for you. “Jamie, I….” she turned away and your heart fell through the floor. “I just…how am I supposed to…why didn’t you…” so many phrases started and left unsaid; you knew exactly what she was saying without voicing the words.

 She turned back toward you as you spoke, “I know, I should’ve said something sooner; and I can’t tell you what you should do. I just know I love you, with my whole heart and soul. If you let me, I want to love you from today and every day after that.” You would’ve fallen down on one knee right then and there if you’d had anything remotely close to a ring to give her. “Do you remember that day, what were we; sophomores or something. Robbie had just broken your heart, and you came over to my house sobbing about the whole issue.” When she nodded, you continued; “I held you in my arms while you cried. It was that moment right there, that I knew I loved you.” Her eyes widen, as if she couldn’t fathom you loved her all the way back then. “I couldn’t believe that he’d been so damn dumb as to cheat on you.” A small chuckle escaped your lips, “I beat the shit out of him the next day. Broke his nose if I remember right. It wasn’t enough, he deserved so much more. I never wanted anyone to hurt you, ever.” More tears fell from her eyes; in the back of your mind it registered that you were the one hurting her now. “Then when I had to leave you to go to Dallas, I thought I was going to die without you. I was going to tell you the night before. I had a whole speech prepared. Damn I’d even bought a ring, if you could call it that. I didn’t know what my future held but even then, I knew I wanted you in it.” That ring was still in your dresser drawer; if only you had it now. “But it wasn’t fair to you and even at that young age I knew that. Which is why I didn’t say a word.”

 You took a step towards her, “I don’t know why I didn’t say anything when you finally moved to Dallas. You’d moved on with your life in college, just as I had; and the timing never seemed right. Then you met Ethan, and I never thought it’d get this far.” Truly you hadn’t, deep down you thought it was just a fling; you’d both had many over the years. “If I had known….I would’ve said all this sooner.” You couldn’t read the emotions playing across her face; didn’t know what she was thinking.

 Finding her voice, she finally spoke; “Jamie, I love you too, you know that.” Joy filled your heart, it was everything you’d ever wanted her to say. “But I can’t…I can’t do this to Ethan. All these people came to see us get married. I can’t just leave him hanging.”

 “Fuck all those people.” You were angry, you wanted her to choose you. “I don’t care about their happiness; I only care about yours. And if you can stand there and tell me that Ethan will make you happier than I can; I’ll walk out that door right now and never say another word.”

 You could see her struggling, not knowing what to tell you. “Jamie, I…I love Ethan too. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

 One long step had you face to face with her, grabbing her shoulders; as if you could transfer the words you wanted to hear by that contact. “I want you tell me you love me, that you want to be with me and only me.”

 “I….I…I” anything else was lost, as she just dissolved into tears, weeping into your chest. Tightening your arms, you held her, just as you had all those years ago; as sob after sob wracked through her body.

 Softly you murmured words in her ears. “I love you (Y/N)…It’s all going to be ok…I’m here…I love you.” How long the two of you stood there you weren’t sure; it could’ve been hours, you would’ve preferred it to be years.

 When she pulled back her tear stained face tugged at your heart. She took a deep breath, “I need some time Jamie. Just give me tonight to think it all over.”

 It wasn’t the answer you wanted; but one you could live with. “Ok,” and then before you could stop yourself, you leaned down and pressed your lips to hers. It was your first kiss with (Y/N), though it wasn’t how you wanted it to happen. You didn’t ask for anything she wasn’t willing to give; so, when she opened for you, you deepened the kiss. You let your mouth show her all the things your heart wanted to give her. She tasted faintly of champagne, but the essence was all (Y/N). Pulling back you settled your forehead on hers, relishing the moment before you said; “you know where I’ll be, if you need me.” With that you turned and strode out the door praying she’d make the right decision.

  READER’S POV

 As Jamie closed the door, you fell to your knees. Your whole life all you wanted was this man to tell you that he loved you; that he chose this moment, the night before your wedding to someone else, tore at your heart. Why had he waited? It echoed through your brain until the only answer that came back was; why had you?

 He spoke of that time long ago when he first knew he’d fallen in love with you; ironically it had been around the same time that you’d fell for him. Though a completely separate instance. Mind drifting back to that day, you could see it clearly as if it was happening now. It was the end of your sophomore year, when he took a hit hard into the boards and went down; your breath had caught in your throat. You remember grabbing his mom’s hand at the same time she reached for yours. His body lay limp on the ice, not moving; your heart had stopped beating as well. The trainer scrambled on the ice as the whistle blew. Finally after what seemed like an eternity, but what was in reality only seconds; Jamie rolled onto his back. Blood covered his beautiful face; yet you could see him wince in pain. You wanted to run to him; his mother’s restraining hand prevented that. Eventually he got up and skated off the ice going directly into the locker room. Calmly you took a breath, and looked at his mom for how to proceed. When she didn’t move, you wanted to scream at her; Jamie was hurt and you needed to be with him. In the years to come you would learn that, that’s not how you handle things when the one you love gets injured during a game. So you waited, as patiently as possible; until the game was finally over and you could go see him.

 He wasn’t hurt as badly as you thought, although there were stitches. Taking him home, you wander upstairs to his bedroom with him; the black and blue marks becoming more predominant as time went on. He crawled into his bed, body sore from the hit. You’d tried to be helpful, shuffling pillows around to make him as comfortable as possible. Finally when he seemed content, you went to leave. He reached out his hand then, halting your progress; and so you climbed in beside him, feeling his strong heart beat beneath your ear. It was in that moment that you knew you never wanted to leave this man; that you would love him with every breath you had.

 So then why were you marrying a man that wasn’t Jamie? Getting up off the floor, you headed towards the window; peeking through the curtains you saw the light on in his room. You knew he was there, probably pacing back and forth; waiting for your answer. You had none at the moment.

 Years you’d followed him around, always being his cheerleader; standing off to the side as he made a name for himself. Until one day, you met Ethan. It was cliché to say, but he sort of just swept you off your feet. He was smart, funny and handsome in a classical way; and he never held anything back, especially his love. Not that Jamie had, you’d always known on some level that Jamie loved you; you just didn’t know that it was in more than a friendship way. Now that you knew, it changed everything.

 Walking away from the window, you climbed into bed; staring at the blank ceiling as if it would provide you with all the answers. It gave you nothing. Minutes turned into hours. As one would pass, you’d think of the past with Jamie; in the next you’d think of Ethan.

 Ethan’s proposal had been the things little girls fantasized about. He’d whisked you away to New York City, on the premise of a business trip; and that the two of you could catch a Broadway show. After the show, you both hopped in one of the horse drawn carriages, for a ride through Central Park. It had been magical, like something out of a fairytale; yet you had no clue what was coming. A beautiful bridge, lit with soft twinkle lights was the backdrop for the setting. Holding his hand the two of you strolled to the center, before he stopped you; dropping to one knee. Declarations of love fell from his lips; and in that moment what else could you say but yes. Now as you lay in your bed, you could only question if that was the right choice to make.

 Eventually dawn came; yet with it you still had no answers. A knock on your door, had you climbing out of the safe haven you’d created. It was your dad; he stood there, not saying a word. Wordless you went into his embrace. You’d thought you cried everything out last night, but a dam of tears flooded your eyes once again. “What do I do?” It was all you could say as you stared up at your father.

 “I can’t tell you that sweetie, only you know the answer. But you know I’ll support you, whomever you choose.”

 All the money, all the people, they were all here for one thing; for you to marry Ethan. He was a good man; he would love you forever. But then there was Jamie, he was just as good, just as loyal. He’d been your best friend since before you could remember. His love was true, and pure; the stuff that withstood the hands of time.

 You took a deep breath, bringing both to the forefront of your mind. You made your choice then and there; and so, you went on with getting ready, busying yourself with hair and makeup. Until it was finally time. Sliding into the car, your heart pounded; it felt like it could beat right out of your chest. The drive seemed endless, but then the car finally pulled up to the destination.

Your dad reached out and grabbed your hand, helping you out; so you could make your way to the church doors. One step at a time, you made your way inside. It was crowded, everyone dressed in their finery to see you marry Ethan. The music started, and one by one your bridesmaids made their way down; until only you and your father stood in the back. Closing your eyes, you let the melody wash over your body; mentally preparing yourself for the long walk down the aisle. You pictured it in the back of your mind. The doors would open, you’d be standing there on your arm of your dad; ready to take the steps to the man you were going to spend the rest of your life with.

 Eyes flying open, you turned; “Daddy…” tears started to flow. Somewhere you realized you hadn’t called your father that since you were a little girl. “I can’t…I was wrong.”

 He looked at you and smiled, “Go! I’ll handle this.” With that he handed you the keys, as you slid your engagement ring off your finger for him. As fast as your high heels could go, you rushed out the door. Time seemed to slow down; you couldn’t get in the car fast enough, the damn dress impeding you. Finally, you pulled into the drive, scrambling out of the vehicle; you ran to the front porch you’d gone up thousands of times. The door was open, walking in you called for him; “Jamie…Jamie.” Halfway up the stairs he came out of his room; dressed in a black suit with a black tie hung loose around his neck, flask in hand. Right there you knew you’d made the right choice. It was Jamie; it was always going to be Jamie. Tears of joy streamed down your face. He was staring at you, a look you couldn’t describe on his face. Slowly you made your way until you stood only arm’s length away from him. “I couldn’t do it Jamie. I don’t love him. I love you, only you….” Anything else was lost, as his lips crushed yours.

 You couldn’t get enough of him; arms going around his neck, you pulled him closer. He tasted of whiskey and promises; you never wanted to let go. Tongues entangled, moans exchanged and still it wasn’t enough. You could spend a lifetime with this man, planned on spending it with him; and it would still not be adequate. When you both needed air, you broke the kiss, and looked at the man you loved with your whole heart. Tears stained his face, just as they did yours. “I thought I lost you forever.”

 “No, Jamie I’m right here. Right where I’m supposed to be.”

 “God, you look so beautiful.” Smiling at you, all you could see was love in his eyes. He kissed you again, fast and hard this time; then stepped back keeping your hand in his. He dropped to one knee then, “(Y/N) I know I waited too long to tell you I loved you; but I plan on making up for that everyday for the rest of our lives if you let me. From the moment I saw you walk into the house next door; I knew that you’d be a life long friend. What I didn’t realize was that you would become my best friend and love of my life. You’ve always supported me no matter what I’ve done; and now I want to do the same for you. I want to love you, cherish you and make you the happiest woman alive. You are my life, my world and my everything; and if you give me the chance, I want to show you that today and every day after that. I love you (Y/N)” He reached in his suit pocket and found a small ring, as tears flowed from both your eyes. “(Y/FN) would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

 Falling to your knees, you joined him. “Yes, Jamie; yes, I want to be your wife. It’s all I ever wanted.” Hand shaking, he slid the petite diamond he’d bought for you at age eighteen, onto your finger. Then he kissed you, soft tender lips caressing yours. Your hands cupped his face, just as his did yours. It was a kiss that spoke of promises made and promises to come. One that told of two people destined to be with each other.

 When it finally ended, you look deep into his brown eyes; “I love you Jamie Benn. I love you now and I will love you until the end of time.”

 “And I love you (Y/FN), from today until I draw my last breath.”

[memory-bees]

Blue

Keith's favorite color was blue. It was the color of the sky, the ocean, and his favorite flavor of the popsicles his mom bought. His dad's eyes were blue, and he thought they were the prettiest blue he had ever seen. He loved his dad. He was tall and he laughed a lot, everybody said Two-Bit was just like his father, a regular chip off the block, in looks and personality.

Keith didn't understand why though. His eyes were like his mothers, grey, not blue. He never said anything about it though, because the comparison always made his father grin. He thought his father was Superman, but he guessed that all little boys thought that.

One day though, he caught his father kissing a woman that wasn't his mother. His mother's hair was brown, not blonde. His mother's eyes were grey, not blue. Before his dad could say anything to try and explain himself Keith ran back outside to where his mother was unloading groceries and told her what he had seen. First, his mother's eyes looked shocked, then sad, and then filled with pure rage.

She handed him his baby sister and told him to stay outside for a while. He nodded and sat on the concrete, sitting his sister on his lap. He jumped through when he heard his father and mother start to scream at each other. He swallowed and looked around, avoiding the eyes of the peanut gallery gathering on the sidewalk in front of the driveway.

After a few minutes the blonde stepped outside, waiting by the door. Hours seemed to pass that were really minutes, but his father finally came outside. He had a suitcase in hand, the blonde smiled at him and took his arm, they walked to his father's car and they separated to get in. Once they were both buckled in safely, his father started to drive away. The small crowd parted like the Red Sea as the car drove away.

Keith stood, his little sister in his arms as he started to run after the car. Sadly, he wasn't fast enough to catch up with it and his father and the mystery woman sped away. His mother ran up beside him, she looked lost. He looked up at her, a scared look on his face.

"When is Daddy comin' back Mama?" He asked, his little sister clung to his blue shirt. He hoped his father wouldn't be gone for too long, Christmas was in a few months! He didn't want Santa to not bring him something.

His mother swallowed and picked him up, kissing his forehead. She took his sister in the other arm and started to walk back up to the house, paying no mind to the constant questions coming from the other neighborhood women who had come to see what was happening. Keith waved at them, vaguely wondering why they all looked so sad. He saw a little boy holding his mother's hand, he looked a little older than him. His hair was a dark brown and his eyes were pale, he smiled and waved.

Keith smiled and waved back, turning back to face his mom. They were quiet as they walked back into the house and the door shut behind them. Keith's mother set him and his sister down, letting his sister crawl around the floor. Keith tried to walk off to play with her, but his mother touched his shoulder to keep him still. She knelt down to his height and swallowed, how was she going to tell him this?

The six-year-old smiled up at his mother, rocking on his heels. She sighed and touched her forehead to his, figuring the best way to break the news would for it to be quick, like a band-aid.

"Honey, I don't think your dad is gonna come back." She whispered, tears once again gathering in her eyes. She worked at the local bar as a barmaid, she could keep doing that to try and support her and her kids.

Her son's face changed to something sad, "Why won't he come home Mama? Doesn't he love us?"

Ms. Mathews sighed and swallowed her tears, she sunk down to sit on her knees. She grabbed the redhead and pulled him onto her lap, kissing his forehead. "I thought he did too, honey, but I guess that other woman meant more to him."

Keith started to get angry, why did that other woman mean more to his father than he did? He pulled away from his mother and ran to his room. He looked around and hated that he only saw blue, in his mind, blue meant his father. He grabbed his bed sheets, struggling with them as he pulled them off of the bed. He took a breath and looked at his shirt, he let out a frustrated yell and pulled it off of himself, he threw it to the ground with the blankets and went to his dresser, grabbing a grey one, like his mother's eyes.

He then went through his dresser, pulling out every blue shirt he could find. When he was done, he was left with a few grey, green, and red shirts. He looked around his room, feeling small compared to the baby blue walls that surrounded him. He finally gave up and fell to the ground, tears falling down his face. He curled into himself, the sobs wracking his small frame.

His mother heard the sobs and walked in, biting her lip when she saw her son. She quickly sent a few unholy words to the man upstairs and walked over to him, scooping him up and sitting on his bed with him on her lap. Keith simply kept crying into her shirt.

Ms. Mathews’ heart hurt for Keith, but she was helpless to do anything else besides pull him closer and hum quietly to try and calm him down. She had put his sister down for a nap a few minutes ago, so she had time to calm him down. After a few minutes he had stopped crying, only a few sniffs and hiccups leaving him occasionally.

His mother kissed the top of his head, sighing softly as he looked up at her, his eyes bloodshot. He rested his head on her chest, looking down at his knees. Slowly, he realized that he had just made a mess of his room. He had cleaned his room this morning, his mother had been so proud of him too, and he ruined it. He started to tear up again and looked back up at his mother.

“I’m sorry for messing up my room mama..” He apologized, his voice starting to shake again.

Ms. Mathews’ shoulders dropped, but she still smiled at her son and kissed his head. “It’s alright honey, we can clean up your room. And if you want we can paint the walls too, whatever color you want.”

The suggestion made the six-year-old’s eyes light up, and he quickly jumped off of his mother’s lap to pick up the shirts that were scattered across the floor and his bedsheets. He put them all in a pile on the floor then looked at the one on top, he stared at it for a few seconds before grabbing it and stuffing it messily back into the dresser.

Ms. Mathews knelt down and grabbed the blankets off the floor she rolled them up, not feeling like folding them up. She set them on the foot of Keith’s bed and walked up behind Keith, she picked him up suddenly, swinging him around the room. The child laughed, letting himself be carried out of the room and into the living room. His mother turned on the radio, an Elvis song started to play out through the speakers.

“You ain’t nothin’ but a hound dog

Cryin’ all the time

Well, you ain’t ever caught a rabbit, and you ain’t no friend of mine.”

And suddenly, Keith forgot about his father leaving, even if it was just for a few minutes. He felt like everything would be okay.

 From that day forward, he hated the color blue. More specifically, people with blue eyes. He didn’t know why, he knew they weren’t his father, but he couldn’t get the thought out of his head that blue eyes were just a sign that someone was going to leave. He had some acquaintances that were blue eyed, but he didn’t really think highly of them.

He had gone downhill since his dad had left, but he made sure that his mother would never have to come home to see him bruised and bloody. He was smart, but he never turned anything in and so the teachers and rest of the students thought he was dumb. He wasn’t dumb though, and his mother knew that, but she also knew that Keith just didn’t feel like trying at school anymore. So she didn’t say anything, instead she just didn’t ask for report cards and didn’t listen to the teachers during meetings.

He talked back too, he made snarky comments that made him be sent to the principal’s office. He hated the principal. Mr. Davis always tried to talk to him like it was the military, and he had blue eyes. He tried occasionally though, just so his mom would have something to put up on the fridge.

His friends had taken to calling him Two-Bit, seeing as he always needed to get his two bit’s worth in. He liked it, he liked that people didn’t know he was named after his dead beat of a father. He had started to hang out with some other people, Dallas and Steve. They were cool, and tough.

One day Steve and him were sitting in front of his house, cigarettes hanging loosely from their mouths as they talked. Well, talking meant more of sitting in silence and Keith cracking a joke every now and then. Steve seemed to have something on his mind and it was bugging Keith.

Finally, Keith’s nerves got to him and he asked Steve.

“Man, what the hell is buggin’ you?” He asked, flipping his cigarette to the concrete and crushing it underneath his heel.

Steve chuckled and shrugged, “Not much, just thinking ‘bout how I should head over to the Curtis’ soon.”

“The who’s?” Keith asked again, the name sounded familiar, but he didn’t know why.

“The Curtis. Y’know, Sodapop? Ponyboy? Darry?” Steve said, his tone dead pan.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, thm.” He had no idea who that was.

Steve went quiet again and Keith followed suit. He didn’t feel like pushing it. They sat for a while longer and Keith pulled out another cig and lit it, inhaling the disease ridden smoke once again. He didn’t know when he started smoking, all he knew was that he was thirteen now and he sure didn’t know where Steve had gotten the pack, seeing as they both looked about a year younger than they were at the time.

Steve stood up and stretched his arms, looking down at the older boy.

“You wanna come with me? The Curtis’ are pretty cool. And you’d probably be able to snag a bite to eat.” He said, flicking his cigarette away from himself. He didn’t crush it, but it was so used up it put itself out within a few seconds anyways.

Keith shrugged and stood up, what harm could it do? And he’d be able to find out who the hell Sodapop, Ponyboy, and Darry were, and their parents who were weird enough to give them those damn names.. And, to be honest, something to eat sounded amazing. And he’d be able to stretch out his legs, he had been sitting for a damn long time.

Steve started to walk and Keith followed. Steve whistled at some girls across the street and Keith copied him. He didn’t know why he did, if his mother had seen him do it his mother would’ve strung him out with the drying laundry. But, even then, he didn’t really have an answer as to why he did it, so he shrugged it off and shoved his hands in his pockets.

They walked for a few minutes, exchanging a few words and jokes. It was just a few months til Christmas. Keith sighed at the thought, although he’d never admit it, he always missed his dad around this time of year. When he was younger he’d wait by the front door on Christmas eve waiting and hoping that his father would come home. But as the years passed, he slowly got used to the idea that his father was just a cheating bastard that wasn’t a damn thing.

He was pulled from his thoughts when Steve turned to walk up the sidewalk towards one of the houses. He slowly followed the brunet up the walk. It was a quaint house, only one floor, although he didn’t know if there was a basement or not. It had a chain link fence surrounding the front yard. It was an off white, bricks made up the front porch.

The lights were on and the curtains were closed. Making it so Keith could only see a few silhouettes of people walking around what he assumed to be the living room. He also heard loud laughter coming from the house, and someone, a woman’s voice, yelling at the boys to calm down. He could tell though that she didn’t really mean it, she just had to say to make it seem like she did.

Finally, Steve and him reached the front door. He was waiting for Steve to knock but was surprised when the door opened first, he squinted at the bright light suddenly flooding out from inside the home. Steve laughed and pulled whoever opened the door into a headlock, giving them a noogie.

When Steve let them go he realized it was a kid their age, his hair was a dark blond and his eyes were dark brown. He had seen Steve hanging around him, but had never caught his name.

“Heya Soda!” Steve greeted, a wide grin on his face as he walked into the house, only to be tackled by another boy.

So, the blonde was Soda. Okay, one brother down, two to go. Keith walked in, a little surprised at how welcoming it was. Usually when he went to a friend’s house, he said hi to their parents then went to their room. These guys were more like a family than just friends.

Steve and the other guy wrestled for a minute til the woman walked out and scolded them. She looked just like Soda, so Keith figured he was his mom, Mrs. Curtis. He was stood awkwardly by the door until she noticed him. When she did she smiled and walked over.

“Well, hello there, which of the boys brought you over to the barn ?” She asked. She had a playful look in her eye, her glasses halfway to falling off of her nose.

“That’s Two-Bit.” Steve exclaimed, still wrestling with the other boy.

Now that Keith could get a better look at him, he recognised him as Dallas Winston. Holy shit. Dallas was a hard as rock asshole, and he was hanging out with these people? What the hell? He just shook it off and looked back to Mrs. Curtis.

“Um, Steve invited me over, if that’s okay, Miss.”

Mrs. Curtis smiled and nodded, patting his shoulder and hurrying off to the kitchen. Keith smiled, feeling the adrenaline fueling the room start to pump through his own veins. He glanced around, Dallas was laughing and walking back to a quiet kid he hadn’t even noticed was there. He had dark hair and even darker eyes. His skin was tanned slightly, a fist sized bruise covering his cheek.

He smiled though when Dallas walked over, greeting him quietly. The dark haired kid was sat next to another one who had his nose buried in some book. He looked around, wondering where the hell the other brothers were. He figured they’d look like Mrs. Curtis.

Dallas looked over the kid and got a playful glint in his eye, snatching the book from him and holding it above his head. The kid started to whine and jump up, trying to grab the book from the blond.

“C’mon Dally! Just give it to me!” He whined, glaring up at the much taller boy.

“Nah. You’ve been readin’ this thing all day, Pony. Live a little!” He was laughing as he said it, putting the book on the highest bookshelf he could reach, knowing that Pony wouldn’t be able to reach it.

Wait, so that was Ponyboy? So, their dad was a redhead? Alright. He was wondering if Darry would be the youngest or the oldest, and whether or not he’d be blond or a redhead.

“You’re a jerk Dally!” Pony spat, huffing and sitting back on the floor.

Dally just laughed and sat back down next to the dark haired kid, putting his arm around his shoulders. Keith looked around and sat on the couch, smiling when he saw it was Mickey Mouse playing on the T.V. He sighed and decided to keep watching. It had calmed down a bit until someone came walking down the hall, someone complaining and asking to be put down.

Keith cocked an eyebrow and looked over to see someone grinning like a mad man. Whoever was flung over his shoulder was calling him dad, so that was Mr. Curtis? What the hell? Why was Pony a redhead if his dad was a brunet? He didn’t have time to think about it though as the kid that Mr. Curtis was holding was dropped onto the couch, and part way on his lap.

Keith was about to push him off, but he stopped dead in his tracks when he got a look at the kid’s face. His hair was messed up and there were freckles scattered across his cheeks. He looked just like his dad. The kid rolled his eyes as Mr. Curtis walked away laughing.

He was all legs. His head was at the other side of the couch, and his legs took up the rest of it, and part of Keith’s lap. The boy looked over at Keith and smiled, still not moving.

“Hi, I’m Darry.” He said, his voice happy and light. His blue eyes sparkled in the light, like a glacier during the summer.

And suddenly, blue was his favorite color again.

[teacupcedes]

Phases

INVOLVED: Mercedes Jones, Samuel Evans, and Carter Evans TIME FRAME: Sunday, March 22, 2020 LOCATION: Jones-Evans Apartment; Atlanta, Georgia SUMMARY: Mercedes comes home from a little grocery shopping, having left Carter with Samuel for an hour or so. Samuel gave Mercedes money to deposit into their account and a spat arose between the two.

Mercedes moved through the front door, holding a few bags from the store and her purse on her shoulder. She huffed softly as she moved for the kitchen and sat the bags on the counter. Licking her lips, she called out, “baby, I’m back,” to Samuel. She had only been gone for an hour and thirty minutes as she promised. She had deposited the money Samuel asked her to and did a little grocery shopping. It felt good to actually get out of the house too. She had been in the hospital, then holed up in the house with Carter for the last few days. She loved it, of course she did, but a little fresh air and sunlight did her good.

Samuel was in their bed; the TV was on watching him at this point in time as he laid there on his back. His eyes were closed, hair in a bun and a sleeping Carter rested on his side nuzzled near Samuel’s chest. Samuel’s hand rested on the baby gently and he released a snore softly as they slept together. Somewhere in Carter’s room were two dirty diapers filled with so many wipes they wouldn’t close. Samuel had to change his shirt twice from the boy throwing up and those rested on the ground next to the bed. He didn’t even bother putting another back on. Carter was laying with him with just a diaper on and nothing more and there were empty bottles cascading the bed.

Mercedes slowly but surely began to unpack the groceries, putting them up as she listened intently to the silence in the apartment. It was quiet. Too quiet. As she finished putting up all of the groceries, she washed and dried her hands before she moved to investigate. She moved out into the living room, looking around slowly. Nothing out of the normal there. She then moved for Carter’s nursery, her face scrunching immediately at the sight of the dirty diapers. “What in the world…” she mumbled to herself as she collected them both, forcing them closed as best she could before she threw them in the diaper trash can in the room. She then moved to crack the window, letting the room air out some. She shook her head as she moved into the bathroom, washing her hands again. Carter hadn’t been in his crib, so he had to be in the bedroom with Samuel. Licking her lips, she dried her hands, pumping a bit of lotion into them and rubbing it in as he moved for their bedroom. She entered slowly, eying Samuel and Carter asleep in the bed. She knew Carter had to be freezing as he was laying there tucked under Samuel’s arm in nothing but a diaper. Sighing softly, Mercedes ran her hand down her face before she collected the bottles from the bed. “Sam…”

Samuel grumbled in his sleep and he subconsciously caressed their son’s stomach as they both slept. As Mercedes walked into the room and called his name, he woke up immediately looking down at their still sleeping son. “I’m up,” he told her as he shifted to get up, sitting upright in the bed a little mindful of Carter.

Mercedes held two of the bottles in one hand as she looked at her fiancé and she said, “why doesn’t he have on any clothes baby, he can get sick and he’s too new to be getting sick,” she said in a motherly tone. “Also, the diapers?” she asked him confused.

Samuel looked at her and he blinked rapidly before he said, “he threw up twice, he kept messing up our clothes,” defensively. “I turned the air up a little so he wouldn’t be cold and there’s a blanket right here,” he told her. “He was hungry and fussy, and he had shit everywhere,” he told her.

Mercedes sighed out as she moved to set the bottles down on the nightstand. “Baby, he needs to be clothed,” she told him softly as she eyed the blanket that wasn’t even covering the baby. “Here,” she said as she moved around the bed, reaching for the sleeping child. “You didn’t want to throw the diapers away?”

Samuel looked at her and he looked away. “Understood,” he said to her patiently, he was trying not to get annoyed, she was Carter’s mother after all. “I guess not,” he said as he pursed his lips.

Lifting Carter out of the bed, Mercedes gently laid him against her shoulder, rubbing his back softly. She gazed at her Samuel before she turned and moved out of the room with their son. She walked him into the nursery, laying him down on the changing table and lifting the guard rails as a precaution before she moved around the room, grabbing him something to wear. She pulled out a long sleeve pants onesie and a pair of mittens, quickly moving back towards him. She lowered the railing, working quickly but gently to dress him in his sleep state. Once he was clothed, she lifted him back over her shoulder, kissing his plump cheek softly. “You have a nice time with daddy?” she whispered softly as she bounced around the room some, still rubbing Carter’s back. After a moment, she laid him down in his crib.

As she walked away Samuel shifted out of the bed and he picked up his dirty shirts moving to put them in their hamper filled with dirty clothes. He grabbed another shirt, putting it on and he moved to grab the kids bottles. He took them into the kitchen and unscrewed them before he began to rinse them of the contents that remained in them.

Mercedes pressed a tender kiss to Carter’s forehead before she made sure his crib was secure. Turning on the monitor and grabbing her own, she moved into the kitchen where she heard Samuel. She sat the monitor down and leaned against the counter, watching him quietly.

Samuel began to wash the bottles now, using streaming hot water as he used some bottle cleaner that she had gotten. He used their bristled brush and stuck it inside, swirling it around the bottle before he rinsed it and repeated the task. He felt her eyes on him, but he ignored them as he continued to clean the bottles and rested them on the drying mat she bought specifically for his bottles, on the counter.

Watching Samuel, Mercedes bit her lip and she walked up behind him wrapping her arms around his midsection as she pressed up against his back. She inhaled his scent and let out a content sigh. “So…” she began sweetly. “Outside of exploding diapers and being thrown up on, how was your father, son hour?” she asked him.

“Okay, I guess,” Samuel replied back to her as he washed another bottle and he rinsed it, placing it on the mat as well before he turned the water off. He stuck the brush back into its holder on the sink before he dried his hands.

Mercedes rested her head on Samuel’s back, clutching him lovingly, her hands on his abs. “Just okay?” she asked him softly.

“Yeah, I mean he’s a baby,” Samuel said to her as he wiped the counter down from where he split a little breast milk earlier.

Sighing once more, Mercedes nodded and she said, “that he is,” as she walked out of the kitchen. She moved into their bathroom, pulling her hair up into a bun before she moved into the bedroom and began to undress.

Samuel placed the cloth in the sink before he moved to walk out of the kitchen, he moved into Carter nursery quietly. He thought that she had the other monitor and would hear him, he made sure he put whatever he ‘messed up’ back neatly before he took the trash out of Carter’s can. When he did, he tied it off to sat it aside before he placed another one of his bags in and left his room with the trash. Samuel fixed his messy bun with one hand tucking hair away and he walked out of the condo and tossed the trash down the shoot at the end of the hallway before he moved back into their space, bare foot.

Mercedes pulled her shirt off, tossing it into the hamper before she adjusted her maternity bra a bit. Taking off her jeans, she tossed them into the hamper too before she walked over to the drawer, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Truthfully, she didn’t look bad. She had a bit of extra stomach pudge but that was all. It wasn’t terrible like she saw some women. She was only a few days postpartum and basically looked how she did before pregnancy, give or take a stretch mark or two and that extra stomach pudge. She placed her hand against her lower stomach longingly, actually missing her belly a bit.

Samuel moved into their room looking over at Mercedes, he didn’t touch whatever she was going through. Instead he minded his own business. Women had a way about things and he knew from experience to just not speak unless spoken to. He moved to sit down on their bed and he grabbed the remote changing the station.

As Samuel entered the room, Mercedes quickly turned away from the mirror, tucking a loose piece of hair that had fallen from her bun behind her ear. She continued to the dresser, opening up a drawer and pulling out a pair of short-shorts. She stepped into them quickly before she opened one of Samuel’s drawers, pulling on one of his t-shirts. It drowned her. She let out a hum as she looked around for the baby monitor now. She glanced around the room before she walked into the bathroom, not seeing it there either. She bit her lip as she quickly moved out of the room and into the kitchen, snatching it up off the counter. She attached it to her hip protectively before she moved back into the bedroom with Samuel, grabbing a baby book off the nightstand as she climbed into bed. It was mid-day but she was exhausted.

Samuel watched her as she put clothes on and began to walk around the room cluelessly, he looked to her oddly before he looked back at the TV. Samuel licked his lips before he got up when she settled and moved into his sock drawer. “Dallas came and brought me this after you left,” he said easily tossing her ten-thousand dollars. He sat back on the bed and looked at the TV again biting his nails.

Mercedes looked at the money as it landed on the bed and she picked it up with pursed lips as she fanned through it. “And what the hell did Dallas do to get all of this money?” she asked him as she tossed it back to her boyfriend as he sat down. “We don’t need his drug money,” she said knowingly. “We’re fine…” she shook her head before she mumbled to herself as she flipped the book open, “crazy… what kind of example does that set for Carter?” she shook her head more.

Samuel looked back at her as the money dropped down beside him, he picked it back up and tossed to her. “That is my money, he owed me,” he told her with a raised brow. “You don’t know anything about some drugs and Dallas. Don’t be talkin’ like that,” he said angrily to her as he turned back around to the TV. “Carter is a baby anyway; he doesn’t know what’s buying his damn pampers…” he said lowly.

Mercedes looked at Samuel with an arched eyebrow as he tossed the money back at her. She looked at it, “he owed you?” she asked him. “It’s drug money regardless and you know that,” she said to him as he got angry with her. She looked him up and down and said, “I’m not depositing this and you shouldn’t want to,” she told him as she tossed it back. “He needs good examples of men in his life,” she said to Samuel, “a drug dealer? Not a good example,” she said, shaking her head. “You brought home money yesterday and didn’t have to sell a single drug to do it, you worked hard for it, you didn’t take the easy way out,” she said, “that is what Carter needs to see,” she said with a huff.

Samuel looked to her and picked the money back up. He stood to his feet and gazed at her angrily. She was all off base and she didn’t even know it. He didn’t care how he got money. He got it because they needed it. To survive, to provide for Carter. Their son would grow up to need money for a multitude of things, especially college, he would be better than Sam. Sam would stop at nothing to make that happen. “You are talking out of your ass right now Mercedes,” he said bitterly. “This is my money,” he voiced loudly, “I need to provide for my son!” he argued. “I don’t care how he got the money; this is mine now,” he repeated, “and Carter won’t want for anything all because you want to be judgmental. Carter can be whatever the fuck he wants to be but not if he has a worthless as sorry-ass, stupid-ass, broke-ass father!” he yelled harshly. “I’ll deposit the shit my fucking self,” he said as he walked away from her.

Mercedes looked at Samuel, shocked by how upset he had become and she blinked slowly, listening to him as he yelled at her. She flinched a little from the harshness and the validity of his words. She couldn’t believe that he didn’t care how Dallas got the money. Did he not care about the way it could affect their son? If Carter grew up to know that Dallas sold drugs, he might think he could do the same, especially if Samuel condoned it. Accepted it for what it was. At his final harsh yell, Carter began screaming and crying in his crib and Mercedes jumped out of the bed quickly as she rushed to him. She moved into his nursery, dropping the railing and hoisting him up. She cradled him in her arms and bounced him lovingly. “It’s okay baby,” she whispered, “it’s okay, it’s okay,” she repeated over and over again as she tried to sooth him.

Samuel watched as she ran off to their son and he moved to place the money he had in his backpack. Whenever he tried to do right, people always found something wrong with it. He licked his lips as he lowered himself on the couch hearing Carter cry. That upset him most of all, that and the way she flinched when he yelled. He ran his hands over his face as he gazed out the window beside him.

“My sweet boy,” Mercedes breathed out quietly. “It’s okay baby,” she said kissing his forehead now, still trying to calm him. She laid him over her shoulder, rubbing his back and patting his bottom now. “Carter,” she said softly as he wailed. She moved to sit down in the rocking chair in his room and began to rock with him. She rubbed his back in soothing circles as he cried loudly.

Samuel continued to listen to Carter screaming and crying though he knew his mother had him. He didn’t move for a long while before he figured he needed to comfort the child himself. Samuel picked himself up off the couch and he moved towards his room, looking at her he reached out for the boy. Samuel hoisted him up and placed him over his shoulder, pecking his cheek and he said, “shh baby,” softly to the baby. “Everything is fine,” he said as he rubbed his back as he walked out the room with a sigh.

Mercedes tried her hardest to sooth Carter, racking her brain trying to think of something. She had sung to him every now and again when he was in her belly and that calmed him down. She wondered if it would do the trick now. “Here comes the sun, doo-dun doo-doo,” she began to sing The Beatles song. “Here comes the sun, and I say, it's all right, little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter, little darling, it feels like years since it's been here…” she trailed off as Samuel walked in taking Carter from her. She sighed out as she stopped singing, watching him walk out with Carter.

Samuel kissed his son’s cheek once more as he began to quiet down some now, he bounced him subtly in his arms. He continued to rub his back as he moved into the living room with him. “I love you,” he told the kid softly. “I’ll do anything for you and no one will ever stop me from doing what I have to do for you,” he said.

Mercedes sat there, listening closely as Carter began to quiet down and she deflated a bit. Why couldn’t she get him to calm down? Licking her lips slowly, Mercedes stood up and she tip-toed into the living room, peering at Samuel and Carter discretely before she moved back into their bedroom and she plopped down on the bed.

Samuel sat down on the couch with his son, looking to see if he were asleep. His eyes were closed and he was quiet so he only assumed he was as he continued to rub his back gently. Thankfully, he was obviously doing something right.

Mercedes sat there, feeling so defeated before she crawled up the bed and curled up on her side. She didn’t understand why Carter wouldn’t calm down for her or why Samuel was so upset with her for her feelings about Dallas and drugs and even the influence on Carter. Sighing out, tears began to fill her eyes and she sniffled softly.

After a while, Samuel moved to stand with Carter and he walked into his room placing him back into his bed comfortably. He placed a little blanket over him, closed his window, looked to his monitor and then walked out again. He made sure he stayed in the living room, away from her. He wasn’t really upset but he was annoyed and didn’t want another argument to happen.

Mercedes could hear Samuel placing Carter back into his crib over the monitor and she sniffled harder as she cried, more tears rolling down her face, falling into the pillow. Taking the monitor off her hip, she sat it on the nightstand carefully before she slid under the covers and pulled them over her head, crying herself to sleep.

[psychospeak-blog]

Won’t Go Slowly // 53

One // Two  // Three // Four // Five // Six // Seven // Eight // Nine // Ten // Eleven // Twelve // Thirteen // Fourteen // Fifteen // Sixteen // Seventeen // Eighteen // Nineteen// Twenty // Twenty One // Twenty Two // Twenty Three // Twenty Four// Twenty Five // Twenty Six // Twenty Seven // Twenty Eight // Twenty Nine // Thirty // Thirty One // Thirty Two // Thirty Three // Thirty Four// Thirty Five // Thirty Six // Thirty Seven // Thirty Eight // Thirty Nine // Forty // Forty One // Forty Two // Forty Three // Forty Four // Forty Five // Forty Six // Forty Seven // Forty Eight // Forty Nine // Fifty // Fifty One // Fifty Two

A/N: I have no idea how this turned out to be so long, but that’s just what happened.

Now that Tyler was home, you were incredibly, incredibly spoiled, you thought, looking at your watch to confirm, once again, that you had responded that you did, very much, want him to bring you falafel for lunch..  

He'd already brought you coffee pretty much every morning this past week.

Like you said, spoiled.

You were halfheartedly folding laundry, watching T.V. with the volume down low when you saw his car pull up and, a moment later, you heard the key in the lock, and then he came around the corner a moment later, smiling and mouthing the words 'hi' as he looked at Bentley in his swing, checking if he was awake or asleep. "Hi," you said gratefully, looking at the bag in his hands.

"You alright?" Tyler asked, sitting down next to you.

"Yeah, I just have a bit of a headache," you said, running your hand over your face.

Tyler squinted, tilting his head at you, "Yeah, your hair doesn't look right."

"Well, I didn't do anything with it."

"No, I meant your bun is all lopsided, it looks its pulling on your head, maybe that's why you have a headache."

"Oh," you said,  reaching up and pulling out the hair tie slowly, because it was all tangled up, and Tyler stiffed a laugh, and you could only imagine it was all over the place.  "You're really lucky you brought me food, or I'd be really mad at you right now."

"I didn't say anything," he said, holding up his hands innocently.

"Yeah, but you were thinking it," you said, and Tyler laughed.  

"Hey, we all can't have great hair, it's okay."

You smirked, your hand reaching towards his hat, but Tyler grabbed your wrist, grinning at you.  "Don't."

"Why not?"

"Because, if you do, I'm not gonna bring you food anymore," he threatened.  Although, you knew that he would wouldn't do that.  

"'K," you said, dropping your hand, "This is exactly what I needed, we didn't have a good night last night."

"How come?"

"I have no idea," you said. "He just didn't want to sleep."

"Were you trying to party all night?" Tyler asked, looking over at Bentley in his swing.  "Is that why Mama has a headache? Were you playing music too loud?"

You smiled at his baby voice, reaching for the bag Tyler had left on the coffee table, pulling out your lunch, and then sliding it over to him so he could get his. "No, he was super restless all night and at 5 or 5:30 I couldn't get him to settle, so I put him in his swing and he liked that,and I thought I wasn't going to be able to get back to sleep, but I fell asleep on the couch, I think I just slept on my neck weird." You were also weren't entirely sure if it was possible, but you were pretty sure you'd slept better on the nights when Cash had slept over, like your body could fully relax or something.  But it could also just have to do with how well Bentley seemed to sleep.

"He really likes that thing, huh?" Tyler asked.

"Yeah, the nature sounds make me sleepy and want to take a nap, but he just seems to really like them."

"I think he likes being outside."

"Yeah, I think he does too," you smiled. Maybe that was part of it, you thought, that it had been raining the past couple of days so you hadn't gotten out with him.  At least today was nice, you thought, as you made a note on your watch to buy a rain cover for the stroller.  You'd tried taking him out in his carrier before, but then it had really started raining, and you were worried about him getting cold.  

"He's gonna love it when we have bonfires," Tyler said, "Remember how we talked about that? Last year?"

"Yeah, I do," you smiled, looking over at Bentley because sometimes you still couldn't believe that he was actually here.  Especially when you remembered just how you felt, before you could feel him, or even picture him as a little boy.  You got distracted, not noticing that Tyler had started to unwrap the falafel that you'd left in your lap, having already started eating his own, nodding towards it and you remembered to eat, taking a grateful bite.

"Good?" he asked.

"Mhmm," you said.  "Thanks, you're the best."

"Yeah, I know," he grinned.  "Did you eat breakfast this morning?"

"Yeah."

"What did you have?"

"Umm...I had, like, some of those lactation cookies.  And some dates.  And a spoonful of peanut butter," you said, thinking back, "Two, maybe.  During the morning time."

"So you didn't eat breakfast."

"I just said I ate!"

"Mhmmm," Tyler said, "You have to eat, babe."

"I am," you said, gesturing at the food you were having right now. I was busy with him, and I was going to make a smoothie, but I didn't want to scare him with the blender."

Tyler gave you a doubtful look, and you pretty much immediately felt defensive, but it was a lot, when you were dealing with the baby.  And you'd been working on a project this morning too, which made you feel like you had to get caught up on the laundry now.

"Yeah, but you have to eat because he needs to eat," Tyler said.  Which was his thing, really, you realized now, making sure that you were eating.  Like he had when you were pregnant.

"I'm doing my best."

"Yeah, you're doing awesome," he said, looking over at Bentley, "Look how happy and chubby he is."

It was at that point that Bentley decided to start fussing, and you laughed.  

"I got him, I'm done eating," Tyler said, using the napkin to wipe off his hands, and he picked up Bentley easily this tip, pulling him to his chest.  "Okay, maybe he's not happy right now.  Does he want food?"

"It hasn't been that long since I fed him," you said, "Does his diaper feel like its wet?"

"I don't know," Tyler said, walking closer to you, so you could check it, and you tried not to laugh at how disturbed Tyler looked at that.

"He might just not want to be in his swing anymore, you can bounce him, he likes that."

"'K," Tyler said, doing so, "Like this?"

"Yeah."

"How come he's still crying?"

"Sometimes he just cries, it's okay."

"But he's sad," Tyler pouted, "What's wrong, little man? You want your pacie?"

"There's one on the kitchen table, I think.  You want me to get it?"

"Nah, I got it, I see it," Tyler said, taking the baby into the kitchen, and then you cringed when you heard a very frustrated cry, followed by Tyler shuffling back into the living room towards you.  "I think he's pissed off that didn't have milk."

You took Bentley from Tyler, pulling him to your chest.  "I don't think he'd be hungry yet, but..." you said and, sure enough, he latched on right away.  Maybe it had been longer than you thought.  

"He wanted falafal for lunch, too," Tyler said, sitting back down next to you on the couch, tossing the abandoned pacifier onto the coffee table.  "He eats so loud."

"Does he?"

"Yeah, he always acts like he hasn't eaten for days, even though its obvious you feed him because he's getting chunky."

You laughed, "You can turn the T.V. up if he's being loud."

Tyler shrugged, leaning back into the couch and putting his feet up on the coffee table. "I don't care, he needs to eat, it's better than crying."

You continued to eat with one hand as you fed him, and then you noticed that Tyler was now looking through the clean clothes you'd had tossed in the laundry basket.  "What are you doing?" you laughed.  

"Just checking out his clothes," Tyler said, grimacing now as he started tearing through the clothes that you had folded on the couch.  

"I just folded those."

"Oh, sorry," he said, trying to refold them, but really doing a terrible job.  "What's the point of folding baby clothes anyways?"

"So I can put them away."

"Yeah, but its not like anyone's gonna judge him if his clothes are wrinkled," Tyler said, and you just looked at him, "I just think that maybe there's better things you could be doing with your time."

"Like what?"

"Cuddling with him, playing with him...."

You supposed, really, that you he had a point, and focused just on the weight of the baby against you, the feeling of his legs and arms laid out over your body, holding him close.  

"Is this one his favourite?" Tyler asked, holding up one of the Dallas Stars onesies.

"I don't know, he pooped all over it the last time he wore it," you said, "I think I need to get him some Leafs stuff."

"That is not even funny," Tyler deadpanned.

"Have you tried walking around in Toronto wearing anything other than Leafs stuff? He's gonna get picked on."

"No one's gonna pick on a baby."

"When he's older, at school."

"I'll teach him how to punch people in the face," Tyler said.

"Tyler!"

"What? I didn't say he should actually punch them, just that he should know how to," Tyler said, "You know the dogs are gonna fuck up anyone who looks at his sideways, anyways, I'm not even gonna have to do step in."

You smiled, noticing now that Tyler was trying to re-fold all the clothes.

"You can just leave them, it's fine," you said, and he looked at you, and you could see that he was just trying to help.  But he was right, really, all that mattered mostly was that the clothes were clean.  "You could just go put them in his room, on the dresser."

"'K," Tyler said, even though, you were pretty sure that he was actually putting them inside the dresser with how long he was gone, while you finished feeding the baby, burping him, and then you were sitting on the fitness ball you'd had in the corner of your living room, now, rocking him to sleep.  

"He's hanging on to you," Tyler said, pointing to wear Bentley was gripping the top of your shirt in his little hand, and you smiled down at him.

"Yeah, he likes to do that," you said.

"He wants your boobies out at all times," Tyler said, and you just shook your head. "Thanks for putting his clothes away."

"Yeah, no problem," Tyler said, dropping back onto the couch.  "You know, if you want to go out somewhere one time, I can watch him.  I won't even make you pay me for babysitting, I kind of owe you a lot of babysitting time."

"Oh," you said, a little surprised now, that he was actually volunteering to babysit, without you being around, this soon.  "Thanks, but there's not really anywhere I want to go."

"Oh, yeah," Tyler said, running his hand through his hair, "Just, if you need a babysitter one day, I'm available.  And he really likes me."

You smiled at his words, but there was tone of disappointment there, and you knew that he wanted this.  But you couldn't even imagine going out anywhere without Bentley  Or, really, even going out that much at all, because you were just in this little newborn cocoon still.  "You know what you could do, though," you said, and Tyler looked at you with question, "You could take him out for a walk, in his stroller, so I could have a nap."

"Yeah, I could do that," Tyler said, "When?"

You looked down at Bentley and then outside, "I mean, you could now, if you wanted.  I just fed him, so he'll probably just sleep."

"Yeah, sure," Tyler said, and you stood up, carrying Bentley into the front hall, while Tyler went down the hall to the bathroom, and you very so carefully removed Bentley's grip from your shirt so you could change his diaper, rocking him before you  laid him gently down into the stroller, and then crouching and looking through the diaper bag for a hat, pulling it down over his head, and he wiggled a little.  

"You need socks, baby boy," you said, going into his bedroom to grab some socks, and a blanket, and a light hooded sweater.  "There's pacifiers in his diaper bag, in the side pouch," you said to Tyler as you pulled Bentley's socks on, and then lifted him up, putting dressing him in his sweater.  "If he starts crying, give it to him, and he'll probably stop. But call me if you have any problems."

On second thought, you crouched down again, grabbing one of the pacifiers and putting it in the basinette of the stroller, and then tucked the blanket over him.  "There's extra blankets on the diaper bag, too, if he gets cold, check his skin, on the back of his neck, or his belly, if he feels cold, " you said, "but he shouldn't be too hot either, so if he feels warm, you can take his sweater off.  Or get rid of the blanket.  But please leave his hat on though.  And his socks."

"Okay," Tyler said.  And you noticed, now, that he had his phone in his hand along with his sunglasses, slipping them into the stroller as well, on the other side of the pacifier.

"Can you leave this down, too, so the sun isn't shining on him?" You asked, "Your phone's charged, right?"

Tyler picked it up, flashing it towards you and you saw, in fact, that it was at 95%.

"Oh!" You said suddenly, "he has gloves, too, in that pocket with the pacifier, in case his hands get cold and he's not keeping him under the blanket."

"It's not that cold out," Tyler laughed.

"I know, but it's harder for babies to regulate their temperature, that's why I want his hat on.  Or the hood," you said, "but you also want to make sure..."

"He's not too hot," Tyler finished, grinning at you. "I got it."

You must have looked worried, because he continued, "Hat and socks always on, sweater and blankets are optional depending on how warm or cold his skin feels."

"Sorry," you said, when you realized you were being the definition of overbearing.  "I've never left him with anyone before."

"Well, other than your mom."

"No, I didn't leave him with my mom. She'd help me, and keep an eye on him if I was in the shower or something, but I was always nearby," you said, "The furthest I've ever been away from him is when you went with him to get his tests done in the hospital."

"Oh," Tyler said, hesitantly now, taking off his hat momentarily to run his hand through his hair.  "I thought that was a thing, that you were letting people watch him."

"Well, I'm not not letting people watch him, I just haven't yet."

"Oh," he said again, and you realized that you'd just screwed up, because of course he knew how to rock the stroller back and forth to help calm Bentley down.  This was just your thing. "Well, I don't have to take him,  if you'd rather someone with more experience watch him first."

"No, I want you to take him," you said, but that wasn't quite the case.  You didn't want him to be away from you really, but you wanted them to have time together, just the two of them.   "I trust you with him."

You did, really, but what you didn't trust was the fact that Tyler wouldn't call you to ask questions if he needed something and he knew you were sleeping.  He'd probably call his mom, first, not wanting to wake you up.  Which was fine, really, but nobody really knew Bentley quite like you did.

But you trusted him to figure it out.

"'K, we won't be too long," Tyler said, already pushing the stroller back and forth a bit, "Say 'bye' to Mama."

"Bye, baby," You said, leaning down to kiss his cheek, "Have fun."

You opened the door, yet Tyler was still standing there and then he tapped his cheek and grinned, and you laughed, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek as well.  "I'll take good care of him."

"I know you will," you said, watching at they walked down the driveway, and you shut the door gently behind them.  And then you crept into the living room, pulling back the curtain to watch them walk down the street.  Tyler was leaning over the stroller, walking slowly, like he was checking on the baby, and you smiled, going to crawl into you bed, thinking about them together even when your eyes were shut, until you fell asleep.

You woke up with a bit of a start, your body somehow realizing that it was far too quiet, your heart skipping a beat when you saw Bentley's bassinet empty, and then you remembered that Tyler had him, calming immediately until you looked at your phone, and you realized it had been over three hours since they'd left now.

But Tyler had sent you a Snapchat, just fifteen minutes ago, a picture of Bentley, sleeping in the crook of his arm, his hat and sweater removed now, but he was wrapped in his blanket and, you recognized Tyler's couch underneath them both, the caption reading "He's straight chillin".  You took a screenshot of it, because it took your breath away, the contrast of his strong, tattooed armed holding your sweet, little baby.  

You scrolled back up, seeing that he'd also sent you a video, of them in the park, Bentley looking wide-eyed up out of the stroller. He had his sweater off then, too, but the blanket was pulled up to his chest, his hands flailing free, and Tyler had put his gloves on, so he didn't scratch his face.

You smiled as you got out of bed, the phone ringing as you held it to your ear.

"Hi," Tyler answered in a whisper, after the first ring.

"Hi," you said back, "How's it going?"

"Good," He whispered again, and you laughed softly.

"Why are you whispering?"

"He's sleeping."

"Still?" you asked.

"Yeah, he was awake for, like, the first 10 minutes, and then he fell asleep."

"He's been sleeping this whole time?" you asked in disbelief.

"Well, he woke up for a bit, but he shit himself and he was really not very happy about that," Tyler said, "But then I changed him, and wrapped him up in his blanket a little, and he fell back asleep."

"Wait, you changed his diaper?" you asked in surprised.

"Yeah," he said easily, "I wasn't gonna let him stay like that."

"Is he fussing or moving around of anything?" you asked, walking through you house, and seeing the project you'd started, earlier this morning.

"Nope, just sleeping. He's being good."

"Do you mind if I take a shower and then come over? Like, 15, 20 minutes?"

"Yeah, whenever you want," Tyler said, and then "I mean, you'll have to come eventually, I don't have any milk for him."

"Well, just call me if he wakes up and he seems hungry," you said, "Can you help me with something else when I come over, too? Please?"

"Mhmm.. sure," Tyler murmured contently.

"Okay, I'll see you guys in a bit," you said then, before hanging up the phone. You took your time showering, too, really shampooing your hair and deep conditioning it.  Like what happened pretty much anytime you'd showered over the past month, you heard Bentley's phantom cries, which almost always turned out to be just you hearing things, but you let yourself relax, knowing that Tyler had him.

When you got to Tyler's house, you pulled everything you needed out of the car, Gerry greeting you at the door, his tail wagging.  "Hi," you murmured, bending down to pet him, "

How's it going?"

Marshall came around the corner then, his tail wagging and coming to say 'hello', while Gerry was now alternating between jumping on you and investigating everything you'd put in the front hallway.  

"That's baby Bentley's stuff," you said, patting Gerry on the side, "Are you checking it out?"

You went deeper into the house, now, laughing a little when you saw Tyler was semi-reclined on the couch, Bentley sleeping against him, and Cash was curled up on Tyler's other side.

"I put his pants on backwards," Tyler whispered to you, a little sheepishly.

"That's okay," you laughed, leaning over to place a kiss atop Bentley's head and then you caught Cash's eyes, flicking up to yours, but his head not raising.  "Hi Cash," you said, running your hand over his ears, and his tail thumped a couple of times against the couch.  

You realized that Tyler had the T.V. on the sports channel muted,  his eyes tracking the closed captioning.

"You can turn the volume up," you said.

"That's okay, he's sleeping. Don't want to wake him up."

"No, it's supposed to be good for them, actually, if there's noise when they're sleeping. So they don't need complete quiet to fall asleep."

"Oh," Tyler said, turning it up now, but it was still just barely audible, "Do you want him back? Do you miss him?"

"You can hold him for a bit, if you want," you said.

"Can you take a picture of us, please?" Tyler said, wrapping his arms around Bentley, moving his leg towards you, "My phone's in my pocket."

"Sure," you said, reaching to grab his phone, and you actually heard Tyler grin.

"I said get my phone, not grope me, I'm holding your baby here, Jesus."

You immediately removed your hand, instinctively, and then re-thought it.  "I touched your leg."

"That was not my leg," Tyler grinned wide.

"It was your leg," you said firmly, and he giggled.  "Do you want me to take your picture or not?"

Tyler was still laughing as he pulled his phone from his pocket himself and handed it over to you, and you couldn't stop the yourself from noticing the mischievous look on his face, as you unlocked his phone.  "Hang on," Tyler said, fumbling with Bentley's hand and you thought he was wanting him to hold his finger, but the next thing you knew, he'd only made sure his middle finger was sticking up and pointing towards the camera, the rest of his fingers folded down.

"Tyler..." you sighed.

"What?" He laughed, smiling towards the camera, "you just push that button, there, at the bottom."

"I don't really think we need a picture of him flipping off the camera."

"No, we don't, I do."

You sighed, taking the picture and handing his phone back towards him,going to sit down on the couch, but Gerry's nose bumped into your thighs, and you sunk down on the floor, crossing your legs and petting him, laughing as he walked right over where your legs were crossed, turning in a circle and then promptly laying down on you.  "Aw, you're still my baby, too," you said, bending over to kiss him on the head and Tyler laughed under his breath.  

"He couldn't care less about the baby, he's happy you don't have that big belly in the way anymore."

"He likes the baby," you said, petting him once more, and then petting Marshall, who was now giving Gerry a weary look, like he wasn't quite sure how he felt about Gerry laying on you like that.  "It's okay, Marshall, he's not hurting me."

"Are you sure? Because he looked really unimpressed when I came in with the baby."

"Well, he's used to being the baby, it's a hard change for him," you said,  "We'll just have to give him lots of attention, I don't want him to get jealous."

"Umm...I'm pretty sure he wouldn't let anyone ignore him, so I don't think you need to worry about that," Tyler said, "I'm just happy he's not trying to lie on top of the baby."

"True," you said, continuing to rub Gerry, and looking at your watch.  "He's been sleeping for a really long time."

"Well, he's probably tired if he was up all night," Tyler said, "How was your nap?"

"Good," you said, smiling and leaning back against the couch, "I feel way better now."

It seemed almost kind of weird to thank him for watching your Bentley, even though you really appreciated it, because he was just a part of it as you were, really.  "I really needed it," you said, "Everything went okay, then?"

"Yeah, it was fine," Tyler said, "Walking with him was kind of hard, though."

"What? Why? Was the handle too short? Because you can adjust it."

"No, girls kept swarming his stroller. I had to keep fending them off."

"Oh my god," you scoffed.

"I'm serious, it was like 'oh my god, he's so cute'," Tyler said, waving his arm in the air, "Sometimes people try to touch him though, I don't really like that."

"Yeah, I know."

"You're still his favourite girl though, don't worry," Tyler said, "He was dreaming about you."

"How do you know he was dreaming about me?"

"He was going like this," Tyler said, making a rather exaggerated fish face, and you laughed.

"Yeah, I love it when he nurses in his sleep."

Bentley stretched in Tyler's arms, making the telltale noises that he was waking up and you smiled, because Cash's eyes flicked over towards the baby. "Hey, I was just telling your mom how well behaved you were," Tyler said, Bentley's arms stretching up towards his head.

"Can I have him, actually?  For a bit?" you asked, tapping Gerry to get him to move out of your lap.    

"Yes," Tyler laughed, "You miss him too much?"

"No," you said, reaching for him, "I mean, yeah, I missed him, but I'm fine with you holding him, I just need him to eat, my boobs are really full."

Tyler was then giggling as he handed him over to you, and then all of the dogs were just straight up staring at you.

"C'mon, you guys want to eat, too?" Tyler said, standing up, Gerry's tail wagging erratically, as he ran ahead into the kitchen, "Cash, c'mon, are you hungry? His mom's here now, we're off the clock."

Tyler snorted though, and left the room with the other two dogs, and you went to go feed the baby, moving a hand to pet Cash once you were organized.  "Good boy," you said, " Do you love him?"

"Why is there paint and stuff on my kitchen table?" Tyler called from the other room.

"I needed your help with something," you said. "You said you would help."

Tyler came back in the room, with dog food spread out in a bowl, sitting it down on the couch next to Cash and petting his head, "If you're gonna be taking care of the baby, you gotta make sure you eat, bud," he said, standing up and sticking his hands in his pockets.  "I don't really think I'm the right guy to ask for help with arts and crafts projects."

"I just need you to hold him for me," you laughed.

"Oh okay," Tyler said, "What's the whale looking thing for?"

"It goes in the sink, to give him a bath, I'll have to wash the paint off of him."

"You're gonna paint your baby?" Tyler said in disbelief, and you laughed even more.

"I'm just gonna get his footprints, but he needs a bath anyways," you said, "it's non-toxic paint.  Is that okay, if I wash him in your sink?"

"Yeah, I don't care," Tyler shrugged.

"I'll show you a picture of what I want to do when I'm done feeding him," you said.  And you did, pulling up the picture you'd found on Pinterest of painted flower pots, that had baby's footprints made to look like the wings of a butterfly, with the antennae of the butterfly drawn on.  "I want to make them for Mother's Day," you said, showing him the terra cotta pots, which you'd already painted a dusty pink.

"You're making it for yourself for Mother's Day?"

"No," you laughed again, "For his grandmas.  My mom and your mom."  You looked at Tyler's face, as he looked over the paint you'd laid out. "Do you think it's too much? To give one to your mom?"

"Uh, no," Tyler said, "She's gonna love it.  The only problem is that I'm never going to be able to get her anything that she'll even care about. Maybe I'll just buy her a plant to go in it."

"You could," you laughed, working on pulling Bentley's socks off his feet, setting them on the kitchen table.

"What are you doing for Mother's Day?" Tyler asked.  

"Umm..I'm not sure, I might just have my mom over for brunch, or maybe dinner," you said, holding Bentley in one arm as you went to get paper towels, and then set the paint out on a paper plate.  

"Well, my family is gonna go out to dinner, so you guys could come, if you want," Tyler said, putting his hands on his head.  "It'd really make it easier for me, if I could take all my favourite moms out to dinner at once."

"My mom's one of your favourite mom's?"

"Well, yeah, she always made sure she bought extra food when she knew I was coming over."

"You like her because she fed you?" you laughed.

"Yeah, she bought pizza pops on the weekend because I liked them, it was thoughtful," Tyler said, "Also, I know what a menace you were and she had to deal with that, she deserves a nice dinner."

You shook your head at him laughing, until he stopped. "You want to do this in the evening?"

"Yeah," he said slowly, dragging out the word, "That's generally when most people have dinner."

"Well, I don't know, if that's a good idea, with him," you said, nodding towards the baby in your arms, "I haven't taken him to a restaurant before, and if it's the evening...."

"What's wrong with the evening?" Tyler laughed, "You've had him out at that time before, it's not like you put him to bed at 7 o'clock or anything."

"Yeah, but you know how he gets in the evening," you said, and Tyler gave you a clueless look.  "He gets fussy, and cries a lot, and just wants to be held."

"Yeah, but it's not annoying or anything," Tyler said, "And you know literally everyone there will be willing to hold him anyways.  Plus, you already know what a good babysitter I am."

"I'll maybe ask my sister if she's okay with doing....that.." you trailed off now, because Tyler was now pulling his shirt over his head. "What are you doing?"

"I don't want you to get paint on my shirt."

"I'm not going to paint your shirt," you said, "I'm leaving his clothes on."

"I don't trust you," Tyler said, tossing his shirt aside and then holding his arms out for the baby, and now you were just trying to focus on making sure he was holding the baby, trying very hard not to look at his half-naked body, keeping your gaze focused just on Bentley, and the where Tyler was holding him against his body.

You would not think about the way that his bare skin felt, warm, under your hands.  

You would avoid meeting his deep eyes, not knowing how you would respond when you looked at them.

You were not going to let yourself get carried away in fantasies and memories, not when you couldn't do anything to act on them right now.

Nope, you were just going to focus on rolling the cuffs of your month old baby's pants up his legs, and then focus on painting his feet, the purple and green colours you'd picked out, blending the colours to make it ombre.  

You heard Tyler laugh under his breath, and checked on Bentley, who had a look of pure confusion on his face.

"Yeah, I don't know what Mama's doing to you," Tyler said to him, and then you heard a flurry of activity behind you.  "Gerry! Hey!"

"What is he doing?" you asked, holding Bentley's leg steady as you turned.

"I don't know, he took something off the table."

"Oh, his socks," you said, noticing they were gone as you grabbed one of the pots off the table.

"Gerry, get back here!"

He trotted back into the room, looking at you both, tail wagging, and his tongue hanging out of his mouth, but no socks.

"You better not have eaten the socks," Tyler said firmly.

"He wouldn't eat them," you said, "They're probably on the couch, or in his bed or something."

Tyler sighed.

"It's fine, he's just playing," you said, concentrating on putting the footprints on the pots, laughing.  "He's spreading his toes so wide."

It still went a lot better than you thought, and you only had to use one of the extra pots that you'd brought, wiping the paint off of Bentley's feet, looking at the pots which were now drying.

"They look cute, your mom's killing the Pinterest game," Tyler said, bouncing the baby lightly. "I'm gonna tell everyone I helped even though I did nothing but hold him. He's gonna get all the credit, anyways, even though he didn't do anything but just lay there."

You laughed.  "Well, you helped make him,  so you can take credit for that."

"True," Tyler said, laughing a little, and you went over to the sink, getting everything else cleaned up now.  "He has my feet, that's for sure."

The words rang in your head.

"Tyler?" you asked, and you heard him mumble an "mhmm" as you rinsed out the paint brushes, slowly turning around. "Do you feel like you have a special connection with him? Because he's yours? Is it different?"

"Uhh..." Tyler said, looking away as if he was thinking, scratching the back of his neck for a moment before he looked at you again .  "I mean, yeah, but I'm not really sure if it's because he's mine, or if it's because he's yours."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean....like, I don't know how to describe it, it's like I have a built-in best bud," he said, and you smiled, at him adjusting his arms so Bentley could see you.  "It wasn't like that at first, though."

"No?" you asked, running the water in the kitchen sink now, trying to get it to the right temperature.  

"Yeah, like it was cool when he first got here and everything, but it took me awhile to realize that I wasn't going to break him," Tyler said, and you looked for the plug for the sink, not finding it next to the tap, so you bent down, getting it out from under the sink.  "Where did you find that?"

"It's right here," you said, laughing as you shook your head, "It's always been kept there."

"I've been looking for it for, like, five years."

"You haven't even been living here for five years," you said, putting it in the sink.  "It's always there, right next to the dishwashing liquid. And extra hand soap."

"Huh," Tyler said.

"You really didn't know it was there?"

"Nope," he said, looking at you kind of curiously, and you shook your head, getting Bentley's towel out of his bag, and a long sleeve onesie for after.  "Do you want me to do anything?"

"You can get him undressed," you said.  

"Do you want to get naked for your bath?" Tyler asked, taking him into the living room, and laying him down on the couch, while you continued getting his bath ready.  "He's way more stretchy than I thought he was gonna be."

"He's stretchy?" you laughed.

"Yeah, like bending his arm to get it out of his shirt," Tyler said, "I thought I worried I was gonna hurt him, changing him before, but he's pretty flexible."

"Oh, yeah, he is," you said, turning off the tap now and putting the insert into the sink for the baby.  

"Are you ready for him?"

"Yeah," you said, and then you heard Tyler snickering.

"Look at this, babe," He said, and you turned to see that Tyler was walking with the baby in his arms, and you felt relief when you say that he had his shirt back on, because you didn't know if you could handle a naked baby cuddled against his bare chest, and then there was a trail of all three dogs in a line behind him.  "They're obsessed with him."

You smiled at the dogs, Tyler extending Bentley out towards you, and you laughed under your breath.  "You have to take his diaper off, too."

"Oh, right," he laughed at himself, setting Bentley down on the towel you had laid out on the counter to take his diaper off. "Oh yeah, they wouldn't even leave me alone when I was trying to change him before.  He was really pissed off about it, too, so he was crying, and Gerry was barking.  And Cash and Marshall were just standing there, judging me, like I was screwing up, when I was just trying to help him. Which is incredibly nerve-wracking, the first time you're trying to change a diaper."

"You've never changed a diaper before?"

"No," he said, "Did I do it wrong?"

"No, I don't think so, his pants weren't wet," you said, "And he looked pretty happy when I got here."

Tyler smiled, picking him up now, "Do I just put him in there?"

"Yeah," you said, standing to the side as Tyler set him in, gently pulling his hands away.  Bentley chose that moment to move, his body sliding down a little in the water, and you both reached in to grab him, your hands meeting under the water.  Gerry seemed to choose that moment to jump up, his front paws on the counter, looking at the baby, and you both laughed, while Bentley looked rather shocked.

"Did that scare you?" you asked, placing one hand on his belly as you grabbed his washcloth, starting to drip water on his body.  

"You want a bath, too, Ger?" Tyler asked, continuing to laugh.  Bentley was just staring at Gerry's head until you brushed some water over his head, and then his eyes blinked contently.

"He looks so happy," Tyler said, his chin resting on your shoulder while his hand slid along your waist.

"Yeah, he loves bath night," you smiled, reaching for his soap and squeezing a little onto your hands to later it up.

"Oooh, you smell good," Tyler said, leaning over to place a kiss on Bentley's head and tickling his belly and then, before you could even realize it, he'd scooped up water in his hand, tossing it at you.

"Tyler!" you said, keeping a hand on the baby while you looked down at your fairly wet shirt.

"Too bad you're not wearing  white," he laughed, and you groaned, taking your free hand, and dipping it in the the soapy water, flicking your fingers right towards Tyler's face, even as he continued to back up.

"Hey, you're getting my floor all wet."

"I think that was you," you said, and he continued to laugh, especially when Gerry jumped up on him clearly thinking this was a game.  "Get him."

"Yeah, show me where you hid his socks," Tyler said, Gerry running after him into the living room, and you laughed, looking down at Cash and Marshall who were at your feet.  

You finished bathing Bentley, who started whining the moment you'd pulled him out of the water, wrapping him up in his towel, and going into the living room to rub some lotion on him and get him dressed, where Tyler was now laid out on the floor, looking under the couch, while Gerry was laying by his side.

"He does not like that," Tyler said.

"Yeah, I think he gets cold," you said, "Or he gets really mad that he has to get out of the bath."

"Well, if you stay in there forever, you're gonna get all pruney " Tyler said, kneeling with one sock in his hand.  "I don't know where the other one is."

"That's okay, there's more in his bag," you said, and Bentley started really crying now, as you took him out of the towel to put his diaper on as quickly as possible, and then Gerry started barking from the other side of the room.  "Yes, I hear him Gerry, thank you."

"You think he thinks we can't hear the baby?" Tyler laughed, and you shrugged.

"I don't really know what he thinks," you said, "I don't think he knows either."

You hurriedly got his arms and legs into his sleeper, buttoning up his onesie, "I'm sorry," you said, grabbing his pacifier and putting it in his mouth, picking him up once your were done, and bouncing him, holding him close to you, "I know, Mommy doesn't like getting out of the bath either."

It didn't really take long for his pissed off cries to calm a little, and you watched as Marshall just walked onto the blanket you'd laid out on the floor, laying down on it.  "I don't think she put that there for you, bud," Tyler said, and you smiled, seeing that he had brought the diaper bag in with him.   "Where are the socks?"

"On the side, where the gloves were."

"Are you sure?"

"Mhmm.."

"They're not here," Tyler said.

"Oh, maybe I took them out, it's okay.  He'll probably be fine, I've got blankets.  And there's pyjamas in there with feet I think, I just usually don't because I swaddle him at night."

"Yeah, don't change him, he'll get mad," Tyler said, and you looked up now to see that Tyler was now holding your underwear in the air.  

"These look kind of big for him," Tyler said, and you rolled your eyes.  "What, did you put these in here in case you peed yourself again?"

"No, I put them in there in case I bled on myself," you said, and Tyler made a disgusted face, dropping them back in the bag, and then standing up.

"Actually, I think I have some slippers for him, I don't know how well they'll fit him thought," Tyler said, leaving for his bedroom, and you didn't even have time to question him, until he came out a moment later with a pair of baby booties in his hand.  "Here."

"Whose are those?"

"Mine," he said, and you were still looking at the small booties in his hand, frowning with confusion, because for some reason you'd expected him to bring out adult slippers.  "From when I was a baby."

"You have them here?"

"Yeah, my mom gave me some of my old baby stuff to have at my house for when you guys come to visit," he said, "There's toys, too, but it's just all in my closet because I didn't want the dogs to get into it."

"So he can play with your toys?"

"Yeah," Tyler said, and you smiled, Bentley's pacifier coming out of his mouth now, staring up at you as Tyler took one of his feet, putting the bootie on, and then you shifted so he could get the other one and, in the process, Bentley's wubanub pacifier tumbled to the floor, and you could feel Gerry coming over to investigate.  

"Leave it, Gerry," you said, and he looked up at you.  "Good boy, that's the baby's.  Where's your toy?"

He trotted off, presumably, to find his toy, and Tyler finished putting the booties on.

"Is that better?" You asked, moving your hand over his belly, "Are you all warm and cozy in Uncle Ty-Ty's baby booties?"

Bentley gurgled in response, his lips turning up and his mouth opening in a toothless grin, and you felt your heart beat just a little faster, your chest filling with warmth.

"Did you just see that?" You asked, looking back at Tyler and then back to the baby again, and then back to Tyler again, "he smiled."

You were grinning, bigger than the baby was though, your eyes seeming to water from a combination of smiling and keeping your eyes open, not wanting to blink and miss anything.  "Are those Uncle Ty-Ty's baby booties?" You tried again, "are they so cozy?"

And, just like the last time, he smiled again, making little noises of contentment as he did so.

"That's a real smile," you said, looking back at Tyler.

"Yeah, look at him looking at you," Tyler said, smiling,  his eyes still focused on the baby, and you looked back down, becoming aware of Tyler's hand on your shoulder and you were rewarded with another little baby smile, not quite as big as the others, but it was still the best.

"I'm so happy, I can't believe he's smiling," you said, turning your head to Tyler's behind you, his lips curled up just a little, and you looked into his eyes which felt like....well, they felt like home.  And when your lips pressed together, you could feel him smiling against you, and you knew you were smiling against him, because you still were, even as he slowly pulled apart, your faces still way closer than would be comfortable with anyone but him, his eyes softly connected with yours.

He wasn't your friend.  He hadn't been, not for a long, long time.

And you could just tell him everything, all of it, right now.  

He was right there, too.

"Tyler, I..."  you started, taking a deep breath, because how could you even put this into words.  It was just there.

"You what?" He said quietly.  

"I..." you breathlessly drug out the word, trying to find the words.

And then you were jolted, banging into him, a wet nose lunging into your face, and then you watched as a big tongue just licked right straight over your baby's face.

"Gerry, stop," Tyler laughed, which someone just made Gerry lick more.  "Stop," he said firmly, pushing Gerry away now, "Come here, you don't jump on the baby."

You tried not to snicker too much as you listened to Tyler having a talk with Gerry in the kitchen now, relieved that Bentley seemed unperturbed by the whole situation, more bothered by you using the blanket to wipe the dog slobber from his face. You laid him down on blanket on the floor now, Marshall looking at him, and you hovered over him, talking to him and rubbing his belly.  "It makes Mommy so happy when you smile."

You barely noticed Gerry stalking back into the room, avoiding looking at you as he laid down on the floor next to Cash, until you saw a phone come in front of you, video capturing Bentley's first smiles. You weren't entirely sure if it was Tyler's phone or yours, but it didn't really matter.

"Thank you," you said, turning to him briefly and he smiled, and you looked at the dogs, surrounding the baby on the blanket, and you picked Bentley up, moving him to lean against Marshall's body, who now looked like he was using ever fibre of his being to stay completely still.

"What are you doing?" Tyler laughed.

"I just think it'd be cute if we got a picture of all of them together, I'm seeing if it'd work."

Tyler looked a little apprehensive, but he was either continuing to film you or take pictures.

"That's a good boy," Tyler said, leaning over to pat him once you'd put Bentley back onto his back on the blanket, noticing his eyes moving up like he was trying to look behind him, so you rolled him  onto his tummy, and he squirmed, grunting to lift his head up, Marshall and Cash's both watching him, their heads lifted, and you heard Tyler laugh.

"Whatcha looking at?" Tyler asked, setting his hand on the baby's back and placing a kiss on your temple, "are those your puppies?"

You smiled, laying down on your side, your head resting against Gerry, as you watched them interact.  "I know you don't quite know what to do with him yet, but you'll figure it out," you said, rubbing him behind the ears, "He's gonna love playing with you, we just need to wait for him to figure out he's got hands."

Tyler smiled, groaning a little as he got up.  "I'm gonna go order us some pizza, and then I'll come back and chill with you guys, 'k?"

"Okay," you smiled, catching him taking another picture of all of you.

And you realized spoiled wasn't quite the right word.

You were incredibly loved.

[akastarlords]

her officer, his lady

wheezes. this chapter took me a bit, cause i hated everything. but soon i found myself not entirely loathing each word i wrote. also. props to lucy for getting me on the ball with this, cause honestly besides life getting busy, i got stupid lazy. oops, i will try not to do that again! since this is based off a romance novel i’m gonna do my best to not rely so heavily on cliches but i’m not straying entirely away from them ja’feel? 

2/?

With a long sigh, Claire tugged off the satin gloves from each hand. The night air cooling her heated skin, and flushed cheeks. It had been a strenuous task to slip away from the party. Different guests, all friends or acquaintances of her grandmother’s, stopping her for a chat or to ask too many personal questions for Claire’s liking.

‘When will you marry, Ms. Dearing? You’re nearing twenty after all!’ Then they’d laugh as if it were simply all in good fun. Claire would smile back, quietly wishing them all a safe passage to hell.

Music carried from the house and to the garden where Claire hid away. She could still hear chatting and the clinking of champagne glasses, and then the shuffling of feet on the gravel beside her.

Owen stopped next to her and tilted his head. “Guess my invite was ‘mysteriously misplaced’ for this one as well, huh?” He asks, slipping in Nana Dearing’s favorite excuse. Claire rolls her eyes.

“You aren’t missing much.” She shrugged her shoulders a bit. “It’s the usual crowd. Greedy bankers, crooked politicians…” She listed. “Oh, and Nana’s gossip ladies from church.”

Owen nodded. “Sounds about right. Glad to see that you made it out alive.” He added. His arm weighed down a bit as Claire wrapped her own around it. She tilted her head up and flashed him a smile that made Owen feel like his knees would give out.

“Of course, I did.” She said, hugging his arm. Leaning up on her toes, she met him halfway and felt his lips press gently to hers. It’s what they’ve done for years now, in secret.

*

No matter what Owen did, Claire’s words still clouded his thoughts. Even after going through gun drills over and over with the new recruits, barking out nearly a dozen orders he could still hear her voice.

‘I was going to Dallas to be married.’

It shouldn’t matter to him what Claire was doing, or even who she was going to be rightfully married to. Hell, he’d may even sigh a breath of relief once she was gone, but in the back of his mind, the thought of Claire leaving him again and marrying someone else made his blood nearly feel like fire.

“You look like someone just about pissed in your coffee.” A voice calls, and Owen didn’t even have to bother to turn to see who. He swears under his breath and keeps his focus on the marching recruits.

“Shut the hell up, Faraday.” Owen grunts. Faraday, a second lieutenant and Owen’s best friend, as well as a major thorn in his side, only just saunters around and glances over Owen. The instant he grins, Owen felt an urge to punch it right off him.

“Heard you got hitched. Did one of those traveling ladies make an honest man outta you?” Faraday asks, ignoring the way Owen scowls at him. “What’s her name?”

Owen shakes his head. “One, it ain’t your damn business, and two, it ain’t any of your damn business.” He answers firmly.

“So, it is lady troubles.” Faraday nods. “Where is she?”

Owen rolls his eyes heavenward and lets loose a long-suffering sigh. “She was invited to lunch by Morris’ wife.”

Faraday chuckles. “She’s won over Morris already? You gotta let me meet your wife, Grady.”

“No.” Owen snaps back quickly. This was becoming too much. “She won’t be here for much longer, so don’t get use to the idea of me remaining in holy matrimony for too long.”

At that, Faraday’s brows lift. “What are you…”

Morris’s voice booms and both men freeze to attention “Faraday. Grady.” He stops before the two, his lips pulled into a deep frown. “Faraday, I know there’s a post that you should be present at.” He remarked sharply. Faraday swallows, and his eyes found interest in ground.

“I suppose there is, sir.” He replies.

“Grady.” Morris turns his attention to Owen. “March your team around the outer perimeter, now. Be back by sunset. A man should be able to have dinner with his wife.” He orders. “Claire will be happy to have you home in time for that.”

Owen holds in a sharp breath at Morris’ last words. With a final dismiss, Morris marched away.

Faraday’s head turns to Owen slowly. “Wait…Claire?” He asks, surprise lacing his tone. “Is it that Claire? Shit, Grady.”

“Just shut up and get to your post.” Owen grumbles, turning away and following his recruits.

*

The sun was low, and casting colors of pink and purple. A sight often clouded by smoke and smog from the factories back home. But here, Claire could even see the stars begin to peek out early against the darker shade of the sky.

She glances to the table and makes sure that everything is in its place. A small meal of leftovers from lunch, parts of a roasted chicken, steamed vegetables and even two slices of chocolate cake. Morris’s wife was more than happy to keep giving Claire whatever food she could carry.

But she knew she couldn’t rely on the woman’s kindness for the entire time. At some point, Claire would have to make due herself, just until she was sent for…

She looks back to the window, and more stars have come out. It was also then that the doorknob rattles before opening. From head to toe, Owen looks every inch roughed up. But there’s water dripping from his hair and chin, as if he only just splashed a handful of water on his face in an attempt to wash himself up for dinner.

Claire looks over him and tries to find the words to say. She knew she wouldn’t outright admit the worry that had begin to grow in her when he didn’t arrive when Morris had promised. Neither would she admit the relief she felt just now seeing him there.

“Sorry.” He says, ending the silence between them. “There was a camp of outlaws not too far out that we came across. We lost track of time…” He trails off and pauses, feeling the water dripping down his head, and wipes his face. “I, uh…would’ve cleaned up better.”

Claire shakes her head. “It’s quite alright. I understand that’s your duty as a Captain.” She says, giving him a small smile. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”

“I always am.” Owen replies.

Claire pauses slightly, but squeezes past the bed and dresser, coming around to the table. “Hungry?” She asks, not looking at Owen. “Mrs. Morris practically provided a feast.” She says.

Owen only nods, and reaches over, pulling out the seat for her. Their eyes met for a few heartbeats before Claire sits down, scooting herself in. “Thank you.” She whispers, peeking up to watch Owen take his own seat.

They say grace quickly and begin to eat. It’s more civil than either of them thought or imagined it would be. Far from the last time they had spoken to each other.

Owen chews on his food, his eyes moving from the plate and to Claire. Her hair was shorter than when he left Boston, but not by much. Still the same brilliant red and curls all neatly pinned to the side. Her face still soft, but most of her freckles faded…

A glimmer catches his eye. Around her neck, a silver chain hung there and on it, a ring.

He might as well have swallowed a rock instead of food.

“That from your fiancée?” Owen asks, before he could even stop the words from leaving his mouth. Claire pauses, her fingers wrapping around the ring, and gives only one short nod.

Again, he speaks without thinking. “I didn’t see you wearing it before…” He points out. Claire sighs and sits up straight, setting down her fork.

“It was in my purse. I just remembered I had it in there. I did not want to be flashing it all around while traveling.” She replies, praying that this would be where his questions and suddenly realizations would end. But knowing Owen, it was only just starting.

Owen sets his own fork down. “Pretty damn nice ring, too.” He muses and sits back in the chair. “Am I allowed to know who that was from?”

At that Claire squeezes the napkin on her lap tightly and takes a breath “Nathanial.”

“Nate.” Owen deadpanned. “Nate Lewis.”

He really didn’t have to ask any further, the exasperated look on Claire only confirms it. She was going to marry Nate Lewis. The stuffy and pretentious son of a wealthy banker back home. Owen recalled the memories of the scrawny boy that would tail after Claire and himself as children, often boasting about his family’s money and stature. He recalled the way that Nate’s eyes would linger on Claire as he tried to persuade her to join him for the day…Owen could also remember shoving him into the mud.

“He has been courting me for the past two years.” Claire informs. At that Owen snorts.

“Oh, has he now? It’s just recently become mutual on both parts rather than just on his?” He asks. A bit more sharply than he intended. Claire’s eyes narrow.

“I’m feeling tired now.” She says curtly. Flinging down the napkin onto the table, she shoves the chair back. “I’d like to go to bed.”

Owen moves his arm and motions to the bed just inches from the table. “No one’s stopping you, future Mrs. Lewis.”

Claire stiffens and stomps a foot. “That’s just like you, Owen! You just can never just be civil or act decently!” She accuses, pointing a finger at him. “That’s…why I am I even bothering with this?” She shakes her head. “Ass.” She bites out at the last second.

Owen scoffs, grabbing a piece of chicken, biting into it roughly. “Princess.” He gets out between chews. Claire makes a very unladylike face, grabbing pillows and sheets from the dresser.

“What’re you doing?” Owen asks, watching her as Claire began to work.

Tossing a few pillows onto the tiny couch beside the window, Claire begins to tie a long sheet from corner to corner of the wall. “We may be ‘married’, Mr. Grady. But like hell I’m sharing a bed with you.”

Owen lifts a brow and shakes his head, finally stopping his mouth from moving before he could think over his words. What he wanted to say surely would have Claire put him in the ground.

“That couch isn’t comfy.” Owen says, standing. Claire shoves the sheet aside and gives him a look.

“Who said anything about me sleeping on the couch?”

Owen pauses. His lips turning into a frown. “Oh no. You’re the one who doesn’t want to share a bed, you can sleep on the couch.”

Claire settles onto the bed with a sigh, and pauses, bouncing a few times. The sound of creaking springs fills the room. “What kind of bed is this?”

“One for us common folk.” Owen retorts. “Keep that up and the barracks will think we have a great marriage.”

“Shut up.” Claire hisses, though the color on her cheeks betray her. She points to the couch. “I’ve done it up quite nicely for you.”

Owen grumbles under his breath, passing through the sheet. “I should be so damn lucky.” He snarled over the top of the sheet. Claire says nothing and lays down, curling up, listening as Owen shuffles around. Grunting as he tries to get at least a comfortable position to rest in.

“Hey.” Comes his voice after a few minutes. Claire sighs and turns over, lying on her back.

“What is it, Owen?”

Owen grins. “So, what will you be doing about a change of clothes for tonight and the time you’re here?”

He hears her gasp and sit up quickly on the springy mattress. “Damn it!”

*

Sleep is elusive to both of them. Owen felt his eyes close hours after midnight and Claire just minutes after. The blaring bugle awakes them both at the same time.

Claire can barely tell where she is, as she follows Owen into the mess hall for breakfast. All around soldiers both young and old are speaking loudly and laughing. The pungent smell of strong coffee and burnt ham fills her senses and makes her sick.

“Sit here. I’ll go get some food.” Owen points to an empty spot at the table. Claire drops down, her eyes drooping shut. “Don’t go to sleep, these boys will swipe the food from right under you.” He warns. Claire wants to tell him she doesn’t care if she misses a meal, as long as she could just get one more hour of sleep.

A plate is set before her and Claire’s eyes open wide. A piece of burnt ham, a runny egg and a glob of…whatever, something that had a greyish tint. Her mind went back to Illinois and her hand comes to cover her mouth, holding in a gag.

“Eat up.” Owen says, sitting down by her. “I talked to Morris. Mrs. Morris will be happy to have you over today. Says she’ll also help you out with the dress issue.”

Claire pushes the plate away a bit, only for Owen to bring it back, glaring at a younger cadet that began to reach for it. “She will? She has some spare dresses?” She asks hopefully. Owen chuckles, picking up a tin cup filled with the better smelling coffee.

“I didn’t say anything about spare dresses being handed out, now did I?”

*

“Ouch!” Claire gasps. She shakes her hand and presses her finger to her mouth. The sewing needle remains pointed up in the mess of fabrics. Her shoulders slump. Three hours and she had made no further progress on this dress than stringing together the starting piece.

“No need to rush, dear.” Mrs. Morris encourages. There’s a kind smile on her round face. “We have all day.”

“I’ll be lucky if I sill have my fingers by the end of it.” Claire huffs, looking at the tips of her fingers. Red and a bit swollen from being poked so much by the sewing needle. She sighs and shakes her head. Oh, Nana must be rolling in her grave. She never allowed her granddaughters to touch anything close to labor work, which included sewing. Even cross-stitch was borderline. Claire barely held a needle and thread in her life.

“How’s Owen?” Mrs. Morris asks. “He’s such a fine young man, I can only imagine him as a husband.”

Claire stops her work and looks to Mrs. Morris as if she had sprouted a new head. Owen? A fine young man? “How do you know Owen besides from…um being part of your husband’s army.”

Mrs. Morris looks to her. “Oh, dear. That boy is almost like a son to me and Mr. Morris. When he first joined up, there was something different about him.”

Where they talking about the same Owen here? Owen Grady, brash, arrogant, and a loud-mouth? Claire stares at her, probing on. “How so?”

“Ah, well. Mr. Morris has this thing. Where he invites the most disciplined and trustworthy cadets to dinner. Owen happened to be one of them.”

No, this couldn’t be the same Owen. Mr. Morris went on. “He was the only decent one. Kept his mouth clean of vulgar talk, offered to help me with the dishes and cleaning, and took off his hat for dinner.”

Claire snorted. “Is that all?”

“I’m sorry, dear?”

“Nothing.” Claire says. She glances out the window, outside she can see a platoon marching by. Beside them, Owen calling out orders and commending them. The same Owen that Mrs. Morris had described. “Nothing at all.”