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j-casper · 3 years

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random emily prentiss hcs i have (that ended up turning into slight penemily hcs—oops.)

@criminalrainyxx

based on a combination of canon and my own headcannons + sergio hcs, my dude

emily’s parents are both ambassadors that met through college before either started their careers. eventually, they got together and had emily; however, they divorced when she was around three because their careers were going in different directions.

they would argue over emily mainly and what they thought was best for her. emily’s father wanted elizabeth to stay home more and have a more active role in emily’s life, and elizabeth wanted to keep working.

when they divorced, emily’s father signed over custody of emily and left to continue his career in another country. emily never really got over him leaving.

it was her father leaving that later causes emily to be so hesitant with relationships, as she saw how distraught her mother was after her father left despite how much the two genuinely loved each other. her father was the first one to show her that even the ones that love you can leave.

as a result of her father leaving and her mother’s busy career, emily was raised by a nanny for most of her childhood.

her nanny was the one that first realized the extent of her anxiety, and she was the one that taught emily methods of calming herself and her anxiety, as well as ways to stop having a panic attack.

her nanny was also the one that taught her how to bake which emily is surprisingly good at unlike cooking.

emily stayed in touch with her old nanny well into adulthood, sending her birthday and mother’s day gifts every year.

(in turn, her nanny sends her a birthday card every year. emily keeps them tucked away in her desk at work for her to look at when things get overwhelming and as a reminder to remember the breathing exercises she was taught as a child to calm down)

emily is actually pretty smart (canon). not “spencer smart” but smart enough on her own to end up attending yale for graduate school.

despite moving around a lot and partying, emily kept a solid 4.0 GPA plus extracurriculars throughout her schooling (nothing less than perfect for her mother).

languages really fascinate her, and it was her father that first read to her in another language and he attempted to teach her it before he left. (she kept up her language learning through tutors after he left)

eventually, when it came to college, she only applied to a few despite probably being able to get into an ivy league. she ended up picking chesapeake bay university because it was the farthest away she could get from her mother at the time.

for the first year, she mainly took language courses and it took her a while to actually pick a major.

(she eventually picked criminal justice just to spite her mother but ended up falling in love with the subject, leading her to later attend yale for a graduate degree in it)

it was also in her first year of college that she had her first relationship with a woman. (before college, she was too scared of what her mother would say about her sexuality if she dated someone of the same gender while in high school)

she met her through the LGBT+ Alliance on campus

they didn’t last together long but the relationship really helped emily come to terms with her sexuality.

(surprisingly, when she came out to her mother, her mother didn’t mind. elizabeth later told emily though to only pick acceptable women (i.e. those that won’t make a fool out of themselves and therefore emily and elizabeth by proxy) to come to galas as her plus one.)

emily had a crush on jj at one point when she joined the BAU but quickly dropped it upon realizing that the blonde was straight.

even more, emily never really told anyone on the team her sexuality. not because she was ashamed, but because no one really asked. but they all slowly find out over time because emily doesn’t really hide it.

derek finds out first after emily casually tells him a story about one of her ex-girlfriends. derek doesn’t blink and instead just enlists emily as his wingwoman and tries to set her up on blind dates.

(penelope later finds out that derek knew first and slaps him on the shoulder and scolds him, whispering insistingly “why didn’t you tell me that i had a chance?”)

emily’s father died long before she joined the BAU.

emily keeps his ashes beside the copy of his favorite book he left her on her bedroom dresser.

she attended his funeral along with her mother.

when emily arrived home from the funeral, she cried for the first time in years.

truthfully, she could never find it in herself to hate him despite the fact that he left her.

as a result, emily never really talks about her father, but eventually she tells spencer and the two of them bond over having absent fathers in their lives that both abandoned them.

truthfully, if you ask emily who her favorite team member was and if her answer wouldn’t hurt/offend anyone else on the team, she would admit without hesitation that it was penelope.

to emily, penelope is sunshine in a person and never fails to cheer emily up when she’s being grouchy or sad.

occasionally, penelope and emily (and sometimes derek) hang out together to play video games—even though emily really sucks at them.

emily really likes mario kart though and she doesn’t judge penelope whenever she picks peach (but they do playfully argue over who gets to play yoshi some days).

emily never had a pet growing up so when she sees a man on the side of the road giving away free kittens, she can’t resist going over and coming home with a small black ball of fur cradled in her hands.

she names him sergio, and emily almost cries when he purrs for the first time.

penelope was the first person to learn of sergio after emily sends her a photo of him curled on her lap asleep.

penelope shows up not even an hour later at emily’s door with a bag full of things from the pet store.

sergio leaves emily’s lap for penelope’s and emily can only pout, muttering “traitor” underneath her breath but not being able to deny how cute Penelope’s squeals over his actions are.

penelope stays the night and emily jokes that penelope loves sergio more than her because she never stayed the night before when it was just emily in the apartment.

penelope declares sergio her godchild and emily doesn’t blink, accepting it.

whenever sergio does something cute, emily immediately takes a video/photo and sends it to penelope.

sergio also helps emily with her anxiety, easily calming her when she’s upset.

when emily “dies,” she worries about sergio a lot. however, jj tells her that penelope has him when she asks about him and she relaxes, knowing that penelope loves sergio as much as she does.

when emily returns home, she tries to convince penelope to keep sergio but penelope refuses, instead telling her that they can split custody as penelope knows how much sergio helps emily with her anxiety.

the split in custody leads emily to declare penelope to be her co-parent and remark that sergio is their son.

penelope, in turn, refers to sergio as “emily prentiss’s son” whenever he does something mischievous like breaking penelope’s living room lamp.

emily doesn’t really dress sergio in outfits. mostly because her mother would constantly dress her in clothes she didn’t enjoy and force her to attend events when she was younger, and doesn’t want to force poor sergio to dress up either.

when she sees him for the first time since going to witness protection, however, she can’t help but love the collar + bowtie penelope had him wearing.

speaking of bowties, emily quickly learns that sergio has so many of them. like—he has his own box in penelope’s closet with nothing but bowties. he has bowties for every occasion: halloween, christmas, and etc.

his tag is fish shaped with emily’s and penelope’s phone numbers on the back. emily originally wanted to get him a bone tag but penelope only pouted and emily instead purchased him a black collar with little white bones on it (halloween themed, of course), declaring sergio to be a badass like her and ignoring penelope’s responding fond roll of her eyes.

emily and penelope only take sergio to the best veterinarian in the area, and not once do they miss a single check-up or appointment.

it takes penelope a while but she eventually discovers that emily taught sergio tricks like how to sit and high-five, but—because emily wanted to—sergio only knows how to do the tricks when spoken to in italian, leading penelope to learn italian phrases from emily so she could show off sergio’s tricks on her own.

(and that’s all from now because I will not stop if I continue on 😭)

#criminal minds #emily prentiss headcannons #emily prentiss #brief mention of #penelope garcia #+#sergio #(yes he gets his own tag)#also #I have to give Emily some angst—okay?

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heechulhamster · 5 years

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The Truth You Can’t Hide VII

KIM JUNMYEON (SUHO) x Fem Reader

Chapter 7 [The Truth You Can’t Hide MASTERLIST]

You did it so well for six years. You’ve hid your son from the biggest threat of his life. But one mishap led to the biggest secret in your life being face to face with the man you’ve kept him away from all these years - his father.

Angst, Mafia AU!

CHAPTERS

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 ongoing

“How careless of you to do something like this, Y/N!” The expanse of your living room was spacious, yet the voice of your father blared and echoed on the distant walls.

Yet you remained blank faced, trying not to be fazed by their harsh words which you’ve already expected. It shouldn’t affect you because you because it was all the consequence of a lie - a lie that you needed in order to get away from here.

“Really, a one night stand with a random guy you couldn’t even put a name to? This is so uncharacteristic of you!” His hand flew to his temple in frustration as he paced around the marble floors.

It’s been a while since you’ve paced the halls of the lavish house you grew up in, just fitting to that of a renowned politician. Yet you always grew up trying to conceal your family background from everyone. Sheltered - was how would people define you. But in reality, you’re just tired of the limelight your parents lived their lives under, your father being a member of the National Assembly and your mother being a socialite doctor. You didn’t want their prominent names to define you. And that personality of yours was probably another reason why this came as a shock to them.

“How could you do this to us? How could you do this to Junmyeon? How could you do this to yourself?” Oh yes, of course they’ll worry about Junmyeon - how much they favored and loved your relationship with the perfect, impeccable, and the most ideal Junmyeon. Except for the fact that he wasn’t.

“He doesn’t even know.” You said, nonchalantly - sharing none of the hysteria that plagued the other two bodies in the room.

“Of course you wouldn’t be able to tell him, because this is a disgrace! Just think of what would the Kim family would make of you now. They already accepted you as their own daughter, gave you a high position in their company - and now you’ll do this? Cheat? And have an unwanted pregnancy?” His veins were already protruding against his forehead. You don’t even remember if he was ever even half as angry towards you as he is right now, as you’ve always been nothing but the ideal daughter. But this isn’t exactly idealistic.

“We’ve already broken up, they wouldn’t know if I don’t stay here. That’s why I’m planning to go to LA. I need to hide from anyone who might have a connection with him.” You explained calmly, having recalled the plan in your mind that you’ve had for three weeks now. Three weeks since your eyes landed on that confidential folder atop of Junmyeon’s desk.

“I think that would be the best for all of us. Just leave.” He finally calmed down in terms of the volume of his voice, yet his tone still remained stern. Your mother just sat silently on the bergere chair across you, trying to keep her orderly fashion yet her eyes spoke of disappointment.

“Just leave. We’re cutting all ties from you. You need to learn that behavior like this is such a disappointment, you’re a disgrace to this family. You’re a grown woman, I believe you can handle everything on your own, especially with decisions as spiteful as that. You’re not my daughter.” With those words, your dad made his way out of the scene as he ascended the stairs.

Neither you nor your mom were able to say any words, knowing he’ll never back down. And there’s already an internal judgement your mom made, too.

Your hand flew to your stomach in a sense of protectiveness, to a growing life that hasn’t even aged a month. Yet is already judged by the lies you needed to tell in order to keep it alive.

“Why would you do this?” Your mother spoke as calmly and as heartfelt as she could, her maternal instincts kicking in.

“There’s no acceptable reason, there’s no use.” You said with a bitter taste in your mouth, thinking what if this was real. You’ve always been their treasured princess, but they weren’t even hesitant to disown you with one mistake.

“Let me hear it, I still want to hear you.” She transferred to sit beside you as she held your hand tightly with her thin feminine fingers.

“Junmyeon was being very busy the past few months, getting ready for the transfer of the obligations to his name. I was getting very lonely, one thing I’ve never been used to since we’ve been together. And it just happened.” You said, having perfectly concocted the tale of the lie in your mind that you could repeat it a thousand times.

“We could wait for your father to calm down, I’m sure he’s not that mad. I’m sure there will come a point that he’ll forgive you. Don’t leave.” Her other hand started caressing your back.

“No, I need to leave. I don’t want constant judgement from him everyday. Junmyeon doesn’t know that I’m pregnant, too. And we know he can easily just go here and see me.” You answered without hesitancy while as the latter part of the statement is the truth.

That was the last time you step foot the house that you face right now, it’s white columns still reminiscent of your sheltered childhood. The days you spent quietly studying inside, being groomed into the lawyer that they always wanted you to be - but someone you never was. The spacious house filled with images of lavishness that never had any emotional meaning to you. A house so desolate of human existence as the people in it were only around ever so often. How you promised yourself not to raise your child the way you were raised, only with nannies to do the bare minimum of what it entails to be a parent as both people responsible for your existence are always too busy with their careers to be a parent at home. It was something you and Junmyeon shared, a lonely childhood. But you ended up doing something worse to Jaejin.

Your son was silently sleeping beside you in the back of the cab you rented after making an abrupt exit of Junmyeon’s mansion. You remember hours ago how it wasn’t Junmyeon who called for you but Sehun and Minseok. Both of who you just dismissed, saying how they should stay out of this. You brought along with you a few of you and Jaejin’s things, unsure of until when you want to avoid Junmyeon - again.

“Mama, is this your house?” Jaejin rubbed his eyes as he gets up from his slumber and looks outside the cab window.

“Yes, baby. Mama used to live here. Let’s go down? Do you want Mama to carry you?” You asked Jaejin with a smile, which he just declined with a shake of his head.

The both of you stood in front of the intimidating black gate of the house. You’re not even sure if the guards still know you nor if they would let you in. But you were left at your last resort.

But that’s not the sole reason why you’re back here. You’ve already wanted to make amends with the lies of your past a while ago. Jaejin deserves to know other members of his family, too. And he doesn’t deserve to be treated as a mistake, or a secret. Because Jaejin is the best thing to have ever graced your life.

“Ma’am Y/N?” You’re brought back to your senses by a familiar voice. It was Byungchul-ssi, he used to be your all around man. He served as your driver, guard, and even the closest thing you had to a father when you were young.

“Byung-ssi?” You answered with a smile, which quickly turned into a worried expression. “Are they here? I was guessing if you could let us in?”

He looked on the child that stood beside you, how his small hand was tugging the end of your coat. And he nodded with a smile, “Of course, they’re waiting for you.”

Jaejin was quickly carried by his enthusiastic grandfather - as if all grief and disappointment towards your unexpected and “illegitimate” pregnancy was nonexistent, as if disowning you never happened. The sun only started to peek and rise in the horizons but the house was already bustling, the househelp were ordered to make each and every dish a child could want.

And you stood in the same living room you were berated in seven years ago.

You don’t know how to talk to your father, and you guess he shared the same sentiment as he only greeted Jaejin and not you. They’re somewhere in the old playground that was made for you during your childhood. Your mother was still in the kitchen, being involved in the mess that ensued in the race to feed a hungry child.

And you were left alone to feel the isolation that the house made you feel. It used to be your home, but now you feel as if everything that exists in this space despises you too.

Silently walking to the kitchen, you saw three women mixing and chopping every known ingredient in the pantry. And not that far away was the door leading to the backyard playground, and you could already hear Jaejin’s giggles.

“He’s such a ball of energy, isn’t he?” It has been a while since you spoke to your mom, not ever since that night.

“He’s always radiant.” You answered with a smile, thinking about Jaejin.

“I always thought of you, and my grandchild. But I didn’t know where to reach out.” She said with sadness evident in her voice. “Even your Dad always looked for you.”

And you were only able to answer with a bitter smile.

“I live with Junmyeon now.” You answered, scanning her face for any trace of shock or disapproval. “We did for the past five months.”

“He looks so much like him.” She said with a lingering smile as she looked out the glass sliding door to her husband and your son.

“Junmyeon is his father.”

“You don’t even have to say that. Anyone would be able to tell.” She said calmly, her eyes sincerely looking at yours. As if sharing a silent apology to all hell that has happened and all the judgement you’ve went through.

She then excused herself from the women who helped her prepare breakfast and led you back to the living room, indicating the intention to speak with you in private.

“The years flew by so fast, didn't they?” She spoke as soon as the both of you sat on the beige couch.

“They didn’t fly past me, the past seven years were rough.” You answered with utmost honesty.

“I can tell. I know we’re not the best definition of a mother and daughter relationship, but I sincerely want to hear what happened.” She said as she reached for your hand, firmly pressing on your fingers that she longed to touch for a long time.

So you did tell her the story of what unfolded the past few years. The hardships and decisions that made you the person you are today - so deviant from the meek daughter that they used to know. From your transfer to LA, to when Minseok found you and helped you along the way. Until Jinki came and relieved a vital position in you and Jaejin’s life. Until that fateful day that Jaejin ran into Junmyeon, and that’s where you stopped.

“Why did you have to go through all of this? That’s what I don’t understand. You could’ve just stayed with Junmyeon and lived a happy and comfortable life.” She spoke with overflowing concern.

“Because…” You considered if you should tell her, if you should incriminate the father of your son in the eyes of your own mother. “There’s some things about him that I deem unacceptable.”

“Like? I don’t understand. Junmyeon everything a woman could ask for in a partner.” She shook her head in disbelief.

“It’s not that, it’s more than that. It has something to do with his inescapable wealth and where it stems from. Something that I really disagree with.” You said, avoiding any eye contact with her as you just looked on your lap.

“I reckon this is about the unexpected transactions within their company?” She said, a sarcastic laugh coming out her mouth right after. You were only able to look at her, out of words and ways to answer. “Everybody knows, his father’s trials was made into a national circus. Considering that they were among the largest chaebols in the country, And of course, your father had connections.”

“Of course he would.” You responded with a bitter yet knowing laugh.

“His father was lucky that the prosecution didn’t have enough evidence, but everyone knows that transactions like that in a powerful shipping company exists.” She said as she shook her head in disbelief, too.

“And you’re okay with that? You raised me to have this unbreakable moral compass. You and Dad always told me to seek whatever is right.” You said in frustration, they raised you in a way with forced righteousness that eventually caused you breaking up with Junmyeon.

“I’m not saying that I’m okay with it. It’s wrong, in all forms. And there’s no excuse that would justify such act. What I’m saying is that a wrong act doesn’t define Junmyeon as a person.” Your Mom expounded.

“I raised you like that for a reason. Let me tell you a story way back when your father and I were in college.” She continued as one of the new house helps arrived with two cups of tea, which she put down on the glass table in front of you. “You know that I belonged in a sorority, and he belonged in a fraternity too, right? Very much like how you and Junmyeon met.” You nodded.

��Well, during our time, it was part of the initiation rights to beat up the freshmen when they want to enter your dad’s fraternity. He got involved in this huge mess that almost cost him his enrolment in law school. He was so distraught, it was his dream school after all. But I didn’t leave him. I know very well that he was just a victim of the existing system in the fraternity. They needed to do that to prove their loyalty to their brotherhood, but that didn’t mean your father was evil nor was he vile. Eventually, I helped him realize that what he did was wrong, and that he could change into a better person.” She reminisced as she took a sip of tea, and her words lingered and reverberated in your mind.

“Look at him now, how he supports human rights and is one of the best legislators in the country. As for you and Junmyeon, how I wish you didn’t leave him. I know this wasn’t his choice, that he didn’t have any call in his involvement in this. This is bigger than just his decisions or his company. And I hope you could talk to him about it.” She continued, the sincerity of her words and the warmth of her fingers on yours was attempted to fill the void that you longed for in a while.

“When I raised you to seek what’s morally right, it didn’t mean to condemn everyone who does wrong.To err is human, we’re all destined to make mistakes. Give Junmyeon a reason to do what’s right. Give him a chance, hear his side. He could be just another victim waiting for someone to believe in the goodness in him.”

And for the first time in a while, you’ve let yourself become just a daughter and listen to the words of your mom.

You stayed three more days at your old home, trying to catch up with your mother as they tried to form a bond with Jaejin. You and your father still weren’t on speaking terms, considering the weight of the words he last left you wasn’t easy to erase. Yet your mother’s advice lingered in your mind.

Guilty or not, Junmyeon’s side of the story deserved to be heard. And you never gave him that.

It was a Wednesday night when you drove back to Seoul in one of your mother’s luxury cars that she insisted you to have. You recognized that your old car wasn’t functional anymore, so you’re more than delighted to use this BMW, despite smelling so much like a California cherry air freshener.

You only give him a text as a notice that you’re coming over, and he didn’t even refuse.

“Yixing.” You spoke first, almost holding your breath to say his name. He’s clad in a simple white v-neck tee and some gym shorts, which emphasized how you invaded his personal time in the late hours of night.

“Come inside, please.” He gestured, always the gentleman that he is.

He indulged you to a cold glass of water as you sat down on the sofa. He felt your tenseness, the restlessness in your eyes. He knew there was a reason why you filed for a leave the past few days, Yixing’s been unbelievably worried about you as you never left a message. Scared that maybe Junmyeon is the reason behind your sudden absence.

“I haven’t seen you in a while, you’re doing fine?” He asked as he sat down across you.

You nodded as your hand slowly put down the now empty glass of water on the table. “I just made an unexpected visit to my parents, and they wanted me to extend my stay.” You explained simply.

“Oh, how was it?” Yixing asked, sincerity was in his voice.

“Went better than expected. You know how much Jaejin just brings everyone together.” You said with a chuckle. “Anyway, I’m here because I needed to talk to you. I’m sorry for disturbing your night.”

“You’re never a bother, Y/N. Must be urgent, isn’t it?” Yixing responded with a tinge of nervousness in the small laugh that followed after.

“Well, I’ve been thinking about it for days.” You started off, just looking at your palms that sat atop your thighs. Unable to confront him with your eyes sitting on his, Yixing doesn’t deserve this - he’s such a wonderful man. Everything a woman could ask for, one could say.

“But you know how we started this. You weren’t exactly prepared to be presented with all these baggages that I have. You probably didn’t sign up for someone with a child, especially that of Junmyeon’s. And I wouldn’t want to be unfair to you.” You paused, feeling the tension in the atmosphere. How Yixing traced your face with the intent to prepare himself on what you’re about to say.

“And these baggages aren’t exactly something I’ve already fixed. And…” You paused to breathe air, “You’re a great guy, Yixing. If we met at another time, or given a different circumstance, I wouldn’t let go of someone like you. But it’s something that I need to do.”

“I need to do it because I need to be fair. I don’t want Jaejin to grow up and hate me because I was too stubborn to even try and give him a whole family that he deserves. I don’t want my child to suffer just because of my pride.” You said, and his little nods expressed his understanding.

You scooted over to reach for his hand, “I’m sorry that it had to be like this. You deserve a lot more, Yixing.”

Yixing put his hand over yours and tapped it reassuringly. “I understand, I really do. I think it’s just right, after I made Jaejin cry I quickly realized that he deserves even just a shot at a whole family.” He said with a smile, despite the pain that glistens in his eye.

“And as for Junmyeon, I know him. Maybe not as much as you do, but I see that he’ll also be willing to do everything to make this work.” He said with a smile. “Neither of us is perfect, I’m not sure if he already told you the shit I’ve done. But I, myself, can see the goodness in him.”

“I think this just wasn’t meant to be.” Yixing gave of a chuckle. “Yesterday, I got a call from my parents telling me that I’m needed back in China next month. I’m already preparing my resignation, actually. So I guess, this is two way.”

“Thank you, Yixing. I’m really sorry.” You said, not having the right words to say as of the moment.

“You don’t need to apologize. But please, do me a favor.” Yixing held your cheek with his right hand, the heat of his palm was all you could feel at the time being.

“Don’t just do it for Jaejin. Do it for yourself too, you deserve happiness.” With a peck on your forehead, you closed the book you and Yixing tried to write.

“I’m at the penthouse, why?” It didn’t even take a full minute for Junmyeon to reply to a text you sent asking where he is. You just wonder how he’s doing as of the moment.

You didn’t even bother constructing a reply to his message and just hopped again on your car, thinking of what you’ll even say to him once you arrive. First, you need to swallow all pride you have left. After turning your back on him and hiding his son from him for seven years, you need to apologize. After storming off from his house yet another time just a few days ago, you need to ask him back.

And you’re actually scared that he’ll reject you.

And it doesn’t help that you need to talk with him here at his penthouse. Once filled with wonderful memories as the both of you shared this space for over a year. You don’t know how to look at any corner of the said unit without being flooded with wonderful memories.

And being reminded of the worst.

It wasn’t even a full day that Junmyeon landed back to Korea, he’s probably still fatigued by the frequent trips and all the business related activities in between. But you don’t want to prolong your agony. You couldn’t spend another day seeing him in a different light. You couldn’t look at him without seeing a criminal.

“You couldn’t just leave!” He said as he chased you to the bedroom, your biggest luggage already prepared to be stuffed dramatically with all your clothes.

“And you could?” You yelled back.

“Please, Y/N. I promise you when this is all done, I’ll make it up to you. I would drop all of this for you but I just can’t. My dad needs me, too. Please understand.” He begged you as he sat by your side, Junmyeon’s hands struggled with yours as he tried to stop you from putting every cloth you have in the said luggage.

“You’ve already promised me one thing, Jun. You told me I should stay here, here with you, and not follow what I really want. And it’s been what? Two months that I barely see you here. That I barely talk to you. I gave up my dreams of getting into Harvard and actually being a lawyer for what? To clean your home?” You answered with so much spite in your voice.

It has been three weeks since you saw the folder and knew the truth. How the company was a courier for guns, bullets, drugs of all kinds, and all shit you swore you’ve always been against. And it’s only been two days since you discovered you were pregnant, which even more fueled your desire to get out of Junmyeon’s grasps. Your child wouldn’t grow up in such an environment, your stomach turns in just the thought of it.

“Let’s make a compromise, please. Okay, I’ll let you go to law school. I let you do what you want. I’ll stay with you if you want to, just please. Please don’t leave me. Please don’t. I love you so much, I need you in my life. Please.” He begged, you already hear Junmyeon sob beside you, yet you wouldn’t dare to look at him.

You can't let your heart soften and break by the sight of his tears. You know you still love him. You love Junmyeon so much. That’s why it was easy for you to give up your life long dream in order to stay with him - to be with him.

But there’s a side to Junmyeon that you didn’t know. A side that you couldn’t tolerate, bear, and could never love.

“Jun, I’ve already had so much. I can’t hold back on living my life just to wait for you. I can’t keep on being in the losing end. I’m so done.” You explained, breathlessly as the scene drains the soul out of you, too. Both of you were diving head first in the fathomless depths of suffering.

You never thought you’d ever have to break up with the love of your life, the one you thought was already your soulmate.

“I’d take this as my final warning. I’ll cancel everything, I’ll book a flight to US with you. We can stay there, I’d stay there with you while you become who you want to be. Just please, don’t leave me. I’m begging you, Y/N. I love you so much and I couldn’t lose you.” He hugged you from your back, his face buried in your neck as he gasps for air in between his sobbing. Junmyeon’s hands tightly coiled around your waist, and one of your hands struggled to make him let go. If he holds any tighter, he’ll hurt the baby. And that was another pain that you wouldn’t be able to bear.

“You shouldn’t stop your life for me. Your family needs you to work hard, Junmyeon. The same way I couldn’t stop my life for you too.” You said sharply, trying to mask your feelings. Trying to bury the pain into concealment, and you deny that such pain exist.

“We’re better off without each other, Junmyeon.”

You rode the special elevator, pressing the button that would lead to the 52nd floor. A bundle of papers were in your hands, the pages rattled against each other as your hands start to shake in nervousness. You don’t even know where to start and you have no inkling of what to expect.

A knock, a single knock and the door was instantly open. You could only think of how he waited on the other side the moment you sent a text.

“Y/N.” He said almost silently.

Junmyeon, for probably one of the very few times in his life, looked unkempt. He looked tired as told by the dark circles around his eyes. He was still in his office attire despite the late hours of night, his shirt loosely tucked and vaguely did it seemed ironed. Junmyeon did look as if he had a hard time.

“Can we talk?” You asked under your breath, taking all the confidence you need to face him again.

The thing is, Junmyeon didn’t directly express any desire to get back with you. Disappointment and regrets have been shared and spoken into existence, yet he never implied nor explicitly told you if he wants to be with you again. That’s why there’s a feeling in your gut that this may not end well.

“Of course.” He answered, eagerness evident in his voice and the way his face lit up.

You entered the penthouse, still as pristine as it looked like years ago. But there was barely any change, you think you’d still be able to walk around the space with your eyes closed and just relying on your muscle memory. It’s still the same old home you had with him.

“Where’s Jaejin?” He asked as you looked around the flat.

“He’s in Incheon with my parents. They asked for a time with him.” You explained dryly. “I just… had something to ask you.”

“Of course.” He said behind you. And your right hand carrying the papers slowly put the said files atop of the mahogany table in front of you.

“Why isn’t my name in these?” You asked. Junmyeon slowly walked to the side of the table and eventually in front of you, as his hands picked up the case files that sat on the table.

“Where did you get these?” He asked in confusion, as his eyes skimmed past the paragraphs of a trial he experienced firsthand.

“Yixing gave it to me.” You explained. “But why isn’t my name there.” You repeated your question.

“In what?” He faked innocence, or so you think. Your question isn’t exactly vivid.

“In the company files that they’ve recovered, my name wasn’t there. Those files were dated from eight to seven years ago. I was the head of the legal department during that time, but my name is either erased, or replaced with Jeongmi’s name. She wasn’t the head until I left.” You narrated your observations from reading the files. “Junmyeon, I signed those papers. I know those accounts. Why isn’t my name there.”

He gave off a tired and deep sigh as he sat on one of the dining chairs. “I had them omitted.”

“Why?” You ask as you pulled a chair for yourself.

“By the time you broke up with me, there was already an existing turmoil in the company. Everyone was already worried that I wouldn’t be able to assume position seamlessly. Sehun’s father battled for my position. There was so much internal problems that a few of these transactions were overlooked, the authorities got to inspect some of them. So I had to do something even before they start investigating. I had people run through every account that you had signed and alter them.” Junmyeon explained rather calmly.

“Why would you do that?” You queried once more.

“You told me that you were better off without me. You wanted to start anew. And I wouldn’t want to ruin your fresh start during that time. You deserved peace.” Junmyeon declared.

All you were able to do is look at him and process what he just said. During times of impending chaos, the first thing he’s thought of and done was to protect you. He could’ve just thrown you under the bus as you’ve already broken up with him, but he didn’t let that happen.

“You didn’t need to do that.” You told him, but he answered a small smile back at you.

“I wanted to.”

You gave him an appreciative stare, finding the right words to say but none actually seemed fitting. Junmyeon has always exceeded your expectations, even at times you know you didn’t deserve.

“Myeon, I actually came here for a reason.” You started, shifting the topic to the main thing that you wanted to happen. “I’m here to ask something from you.”

“I’m all ears.” He leaned on the table, intently listening to you.

“I know I haven’t been the best person to you for the past years. I’ve never let you explain, I’ve always put my pride above all. But as Jaejin’s mother, I need to ask you if…” You inhaled, scanning your insides for all sorts of confidence you would need to speak it out. “...if we could try and sort things out with the both of us. Jaejin wants a whole family, and it would kill me not to try.”

Junmyeon looked at you sincerely with his brown eyes, his gaze piercing right at your soul as he took in your request.

“So what you ask from me is…” He stopped, letting you continue for clarification.

“I ask if we could make this work. Us. What normal parents would be. I ask it for Jaejin’s sake.” You clarify, your voice breaking in a form of a plea.

“I wouldn’t do it for Jaejin.”

Junmyeon’s voice was stern and unwavering. As if he regained his energy to reject you in an instant. You breathed from your mouth as you tried to digest what he said, until he spoke again.

“I’d try, not only for Jaejin but for myself. I’d try and win you back whatever it takes. I’d willingly lose everything in doing so. I want to make this a family whole, not just because that’s what Jaejin deserves.” He paused, inhaling deeply as his hands reached yours. “But because I love you.”

A series of loud thuds banged on your chest as his words started to sink in. How could he? Why would he?

“... again?” You asked, almost in a whisper. As this wasn’t the response that you were expecting.

“Still.” He said, strong and clear. As if his words are the only thing Junmyeon holds true. “I love you, still. I never stopped. I tried distracting myself all these years but now that you’re back, and knowing that we have a child only made me realize that all of those attempts to hide the truth was futile. I’m going to try and win you back, for Jaejin, and for the reason that I’ll die if I ever let you go another time.”

You just stared at Junmyeon, no other noise nor sound was heard in the penthouse. If someone were to drop a pin, it would echo in these walls. He held his breath, admiring the silence, the moment that he never thought would happen again. The both of you existing in the same space, breathing the same air, void of any grief nor anger towards each other, and him being able to profess his love for you - again.

Junmyeon stood from his chair and made his way to the one beside yours, he now sat in front of you but with your legs touching each other. A contact meaning so much to him as he craved to gravitate towards the warmth of your body for so long. Junmyeon slowly raised his hand to cup your face, your figure still stunned in the way things led to this moment.

“This would be so selfish of me. But I just ask you this night, Y/N. Just one night, to go back in time and pretend it was us then. Please.” Junmyeon pressed his forehead into yours. “Take me back in time when you still love me as much as I love you.”

Tonight, you let yourself become human and succumb to what you wanted in that very moment. You wanted to become his - just like you used to.

The both of you woke up to the sound of your ringing phone. Junmyeon tried to hold you back down to sleep but you were persistent in answering whatever that seemed urgent. No one would ever call you this early in the morning unless it was important.

“Hello?” You sat on the bed, Junmyeon’s arm was still wrapped around your waist as he went back to slumber.

“What!?” And that loud, worried, and distressed voice of yours was enough to knock Junmyeon into senses.

Jaejin was sleeping when their car arrived in Junmyeon’s mansion. They were heavily manned, your father carrying your sleeping son as they entered the large halls.

“Where did it happen?” Junmyeon quickly interrogated the head of security that walked beside your Dad.

“We were driving to a known amusement park in Incheon when we noticed that there was a black heavily tinted car closely following us.” Your father explained as he handed the sleeping Jaejin to you, who you quickly cradled as your worry overflowed your sanity. “They cornered us at an isolated intersection, but I think they didn’t know we had security vans closely following us behind.”

“Can you send us the exact details? We need to access the security cameras around the area.” Sehun butt in the conversation.

“Dad, could this be one of your political enemies?” You asked in nervousness, you know how unforgiving these people your father is battling with in the government could be. He didn’t respond, obviously not knowing the answer himself.

With the shared stares between Junmyeon, Minseok, Sehun, and your Dad, you knew it was something that you wouldn’t dare meddle with. So you just climbed up the room and embraced Jaejin as the both of you slept. Because during times like this, you’d only be comfortable if Jaejin is safe in the warmth of your arms.

“Do you think Y/N was right? Do you remember going against anyone lately?” Junmyeon asked your father as they meet, along with each of their own security team surrounding them.

“Not as much as I could recall.” He answered as he shook his head.

They kept on repeating the CCTV footage they quickly recovered in Incheon - as both Junmyeon and your father both had their ways. There was indeed a heavily tinted black car keeping close proximity to that of your father’s, even almost colliding into them at an intersection.

But Sehun was the one who watched closely, he couldn’t be mistaken by the familiarity. He asked to zoom in one of the frames where the plates could be seen - and Sehun was right. He was disgusted at the fact that he was right.

“Hyung…” Sehun spoke over the silence that enveloped the room. “This car... it’s one of my father’s.”

#junmyeon #junmyeon imagine #junmyeon fanfic #suho #suho imagine #suho fanfic #mafia au #exo #exo imagine #exo fanfic #exo mafia #suho x reader #junmyeon x reader #kim junmyeon

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winchester-ofthe-lord · 6 years

Text

Classic Winchester Adventures - Chapter 3

Square Filled: Cassette Collection

Rating: gen

Warnings: Dean’s interesting eating habits, all da feels?

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: What do unicorn-clouds, the Smurfs and a giant ball pit have in common?

read on ao3 read from the beginning

A/N: hiya guys, this is chapter 3 of the Classic Winchester Adventures, filling the bingo square "Cassette Collection" of @spnclassicbingo 's challenge. I had an absolute blast writing this chapter, I laughed, I cried, I puked in my mouth a little. I hope you like it, please let me know what you think and stay tuned for the next chapters :)

The clattering of crockery and cutlery mixes with the cheerful, nevertheless serene voices in the well-patronized diner. It's just after eight in the morning and Dean gives a tired yawn. He tries to cover it with his palm though, before shoving a bite of his blueberry pancake into his mouth, moaning contentedly around the fork, his eyes closed.

“Should I give you two a little privacy?” Sam takes a sip of his coffee and grins over the rim of his steaming cup. He places it next to his plate with avocado toast with egg, of which he takes a generous bite.

“You’re just jealous because your food looks like someone already ate and then threw it back up again,” Dean scoffs and moans once again around a mouthful of his delicious pancake. He waves the fork around, pointing vaguely at the remains of his dish and, mouth still full and split into a wide smile, says “This tastes friggin’ awesome, man.”

Sam heaves a slightly frustrated sigh and looks at the amused grin on his brother’s face, swallows politely before he answers, “Y’know Dean, if you gave it a try you’d realize it actually tastes pretty good.” The taller man eyes the unappetizing mess of squished blueberries in batter, drowning in syrup on Deans plate and adds, “And well… my food is, in contrast to your…’awesome’ pancake, at least healthy.”

“Uh-huh,” the older brother huffs disapprovingly and shoves the next, maybe a little too big forkful into his mouth, smearing syrup all over his right cheek in the process. A drop of sticky golden liquid sugar slowly travels down his jaw, pauses at his chin for a brief moment and leaves Dean’s face. It splashes onto the front of his flannel where it creates a dark stain, syrup slowly seeping into the fabric, diameter growing by the minute.

Sam observes his brother in awe - his pleased grin, stuffed round cheeks, the way he’s chewing contentedly on his pancake while humming in enjoyment, happy crinkles around his closed eyes, completely oblivious to the mess on his face and shirt… it’s official, he’s an actual squirrel.

The younger brother snorts a laugh through his nose and shakes his head before he turns his eyes back to the laptop screen next to his plate, and takes another bite of his avocado toast.

“Hey Dean,” Sam clears his throat and swipes toast crumbs off his mouth with a napkin, “Before we’re driving to that ‘Haunted Motel’... y’know, it’s still more than two weeks until the thirteenth, so technically we’d have time for another case.” He glances up to his brother who just finished the last remnants of his pancake, now washing it down with a gulp of his, most likely cold, coffee. His brows knit into a deprecating frown as he puts his empty cup back on the table.

“Uh… yeah, sure,” Dean scrubs a hand over his face, a little surprised at his fingers sticking to his cheek. He holds his syrupy hand in front of his face, apparently contemplating whether he should wipe the gluey sugar on a napkin or rather lick it from his fingers. When he sees Sam’s judgingly raised eyebrows, he decides on the former, cleaning both his hand and his face thoroughly. “So-” he puts down the napkin and devotes all his attention back to Sam- “the case?”

“Right...” Sam thrusts his plate aside and pulls the laptop in front of him instead, eyes quickly skimming the screen. “So, there’s been a few articles in the local newspaper. Relating… weird stuff.”

“Weird stuff? Uh… can you be a little more precise, maybe?”

The taller man purses his lips into a tight smile when the waitress appears at their table to refill their empty mugs, and throws a muttered ‘thank-you’ at her retreating back.

He turns to face Dean again and starts, “So get this. There are reports about things like… the sky being green and the grass blue on one day. Or clouds in the most ridiculous shapes. There was a witness who mentioned a-” He reads the next part right from the screen, quoting the witness word for word- “a ‘unicorn-cloud bouncing across the sky’.”

Dean snorts into his coffee, shoots his brother an amused, curious grin, “A what now?”

“‘Unicorn-cloud’” Sam repeats, suppressing a smile. “Another day all the cars in that town were replaced by toy cars, few weeks later the school looked like a castle in a fairy tale and some houses were turned into some really interesting shapes.” He turns the laptop screen towards Dean to show him tiny pictures of the colorful, bulbous houses and receives an irritated frown.

“One day the lake was covered in foam, like a giant bubble bath. Then another day there was the-” This time not even Sam has the self-restraint to stifle his laugh- “smurf gang and apparently they were running around the town and told everyone they’re trying to escape a giant cat called Azrael and his owner Gargamel.

“Another day, about a month later, every time somebody clapped their hands it became dark as night, and when they clapped again it was day again.” Sam pauses to take a swig of his coffee, his tongue poking out between his teeth afterwards as he chuckles slightly.

“Welp, sure does sound like our kind of weird,” Dean says and snatches the laptop from Sam to read through the articles himself. Maybe his brother’s just messing with him again.

Still cradling the cup in his hands, Sam adds, “Thing is, these... incidents don’t follow a particular pattern, there’s no recognizable structure. They seem to happen arbitrarily. Completely at random intervals.”

“How come we only hear about that stuff now?” the older Winchester wants to know, looking up from the screen and absentmindedly taking a sip of his coffee.

“Well, nobody’s been hurt yet. So far it’s only been pretty innocuous and-” Sam points at the picture of a panicky, tiny blue gnome with a white hat on the laptop and snickers- “to be honest, rather funny things. Also, these, let’s call them phenomena last, as far as I got it right, only one day each.”

Dean flips the laptop shut and empties his coffee in one go. He fishes a few dollar bills out of his wallet and jams them between the empty cup and the tabletop as he pushes himself up, “Well, let's just be on the safe side then. What’d you say where this town was?”

Two days later, Sam and Dean are standing in front of a big, although sort of inconspicuous house. There’s a huge wooden sign in the front yard, colorful and elegantly curved letters saying ‘Nancy’s Home for Children’.

They walk past the sign, gravel crunching under their feet, as Dean straightens the cuff on his dress shirt sleeve that’s peeking out of his FBI jacket.

They’d spent the time since their arrival investigating the previous phenomena, questioning witnesses and even talked to the mayor, until they found out that all incidents are somehow related to one single place - the town’s foster home.

“As it’s most probably a witch... you got your ring?” Sam asks when they reach the door, already holding up his fist to knock.

Dean raises his right hand and wiggles his fingers, showing off the silvery shining iron ring he put on for this very purpose, “Yep.” What is it with monsters and their aversion for iron anyway? He nods towards the sign in the yard as his brother knocks on the door, “So, you think this is some kind of Mary Poppins or Nanny McPhee thing?”

“I don’t know, Dean. That’s why we’re here and we’ll just ask politely,” Sam deadpans and clothes his face in his typical fake courtesy FBI agent smile, before he turns back to the door, waiting for it to open.

“Oh God, no. Please no clowns!!!” Sam shakes his head frantically and waves his hands around in a defensive gesture. Desperately seeking help he looks at Nancy and shakes his head once more for emphasis, sheer panic in his eyes.

Nancy, the foster mother and part-time witch as they found out about an hour ago, reaches out with a soothing hand and places it on Sam’s arm, “No clowns, don’t worry.” She smiles fondly at the man on her couch and glances over to his brother, one of her eyebrows raised in question.

“Naw dammit, why not, Nancy?” one of the two kids in the room complains loudly as he throws both his arms exaggeratedly into the air and sinks down onto his seat with a sulky sigh, before he crosses his arms in front of his chest.

“Hey,” the brunette woman cautions with a raised finger, “I said no swearing, Tim, you know that.” She pats his knee and strokes his cheek with her index finger in a quick motion, “Because you already made your wish, and I think Sam here-” Nancy cocks her head towards the taller Winchester who still looks a little frightened- “doesn’t seem too happy about clowns. You said you wanted both of them to be here tomorrow, so we gotta accept his request and leave the clowns out.”

Dean clears his throat to drag the boy’s attention and leans forward, propping his elbows on his knees while he starts talking, “Y’know Tim, Sammy here ain’t a big fan of clowns, but I’m sure we’re gonna have fun even without ‘em, okay?” He puts on a wide grin and winks at the now also smiling boy in front of him.

“Ugh, fine,” Tim says, gets up and points at Sam. “But you’re coming tomorrow, aren’t you?!” he adds in a demanding tone, causing the younger Winchester to nod in response and smile as well. Tim leaves the living room in a haste, now that he’s got what he wanted, and drags the other kid, Ella as she told them earlier, along with him.

“Sorry, he can be a little difficult sometimes.” Nancy turns back to face Sam and Dean again, her beaming blue eyes focussing on the latter as the corners of her mouth curl upwards.

“No problem, really,” Dean reassures her and licks over his bottom lip, mirroring her flirting smirk.

They realized that Nancy was the witch as soon as they entered her house and she reacted to Dean’s iron ring when they shook hands. That’s why they immediately dropped their FBI fassade and did some straight talking instead.

That’s why they also realized that Nancy was by no means one of the evil, obnoxious representatives of her kind, but actually quite the opposite. That she’s nothing but friendly and warm-hearted, loving and caring towards her foster children.

Nancy explained how she’d always had magical abilities, that her family had taught her how to use them, but that they wanted her to harm other people, to do black magic. She, however, didn’t want to hurt anyone, so she left her coven and started a new family, in a new town - with her foster kids. She wanted to be good.

Despite his usual reluctance regarding witches, Dean couldn’t help but sympathize with her. The beautiful long brown hair, the errand strands that fall into her pretty face whenever she cocks her head in that adorable way, her radiant, bright blue eyes, her athletic figure and her mesmerizing smile might have played a crucial role in his decision making process. A fact he’d never admit to his brother though.

Nancy only ever uses her witchcraft for the sole purpose of birthday presents, she explained further. Whenever it’s one of her fosterling’s birthdays, the kid can make one wish for this special day, on condition that it serves other people in equal measure.

Which might be the reason why the whole town’s been affected more often than not.

“Nancy, I’m afraid you gotta stop this,” Sam told her earnestly when she finished talking. “Someday someone might get hurt. Or other hunters will find you, and I’m not sure if they are as reasonable and-” he stopped to glare at his brother who was currently balancing a tiny basketball on his forehead, while three overly excited children applauded at his remarkable trick and laughed hysterically- “mature as we are...”

In the end, they agree that Nancy could keep using her magic, but should restrict it to a small area around the foster home and shield it from the rest of the town, so as not to drag even more attention to the untypical spectacles.

They also agree, at the children’s urgent entreaty, that the Winchesters will stay and celebrate Paul’s birthday with the whole foster family the next day - much to Dean’s delight.

Nobody wants to tell Dean or Sam what Tim had actually wished for. “It’s a surprise,” the boy declares proudly, showing off his toothy grin. Well… at this very moment it isn’t that toothy, as two of his front teeth are missing, but still he seems exceedingly happy. At least it gives him an adorable lisp.

The brothers say goodbye to the lively gang and drive back to their motel, both equally full of anticipation and perhaps even a little fear at the same time.

It’s almost ten am the next day as the Impala pulls up in front of ‘Nancy’s Home for Children’ and comes to a stop. Dean turns the ignition, he and his brother open their respective doors at the same time. Both their faces lighten up when they already hear children screaming and laughing in excitement, even though they’re still on the other side of the road.

Once again they walk past the big sign and knock on the door. When nobody opens after several minutes of waiting, they decide to round the building to get to the backyard where all the happy noises seem to come from.

“C’mon Sam, Nancy promised not to get any clowns, I think you’re safe,” Dean says with a chuckle when Sam hesitates for a second in front of the garden gate.

As soon as they reach the back porch they’re greeted by three kids almost running right into them, followed by Nancy’s warning voice about someone named Tyler being responsible that nobody gets hurt.

“Kids,” she mutters under her breath, shaking her head, giggling to herself. “Oh hey, Sam, Dean, glad you could make it!” Nancy offers them a warm smile and gives both men a brief once over, “What, no fake FBI suits today?”

Before either of the brothers can answer, they get interrupted by a loud announcement of Tim who sprints past them, taking a speedy run-up, “CANNONBALL!” and jumps into the giant ball pit that replaced the creek that usually passes through the backyard. Small plastic balls in all colors of the rainbow explode into the air as his small body gets devoured by the colorful hole in the floor. He bursts through the surface with a high-pitched, excited shriek and climbs out of the pit, running straight towards the grown ups on the porch.

“Hey there, Tim.” Sam says and emits a dull ‘hmmpf’ when the little boy crashes into him, throwing both his arms around the taller Winchester’s waist in pure delight. Sam ruffles a large hand through the boy’s auburn hair, coaxing a joyful laughter from him.

“Did you see my super duper cannonball?” All three adults nod excessively in affirmation, wide smiles on every of their faces.

Tim turns to Dean and hugs him as well, although not as racily as he did with Sam, now that he’s not running anymore.

“Happy Birthday, Tim,” Dean congratulates and scoops the squeaking boy up into his arms, “How old are you now?”

The kid holds up both hands, showing six fingers to the two men. “I’m six!” Tim states, lisp strong on the first and last letter of the word, and he thrashes around in Dean’s arms, struggling to get down on the floor again.

The second his feet meet the floor, he grabs Sam’s hand and drags him through the back door and into the house, “I gotta show you-” The rest of the sentence gets swallowed as the door falls closed, causing both Dean and Nancy to chuckle slightly.

“So, a giant bouce house, huh?” Dean asks, peaking through one of the windows to watch several kids jumping around the living room. He huffs a laugh when he sees Sam being pulled into their middle, surrounded by two toddlers, Tim, one kid around the age of ten and two teenagers who shoot him an apologetic grin.

“Yeah, he wished for the whole house to be turned into a bouncer castle. The ball pit creek was just a little addition I thought might be fun for the kids too,” Nancy says and walks over to a small table with cake and muffins, “Want one?”

Dean gladly takes one of the chocolate covered pastries with sprinkles on top and takes a generous bite, “Nothing like muffins for breakfast,” he mumbles with a contented smile.

He stands next to Nancy who has a worried frown on her face as she looks towards the far end of the back porch. A little girl, the one they met the day before Dean thinks, is sitting on the floorboards, hugging her own knees, while absentmindedly gazing across the yard.

“What’s up with her?” Dean asks Nancy in a calm voice, so the little girl won’t hear him.

“Ella’s only been with us two weeks… She lost her parents in a car accident, and I can’t really get through to her.” Nancy bites down on her bottom lip, her concern about the little girl obviously written in her blue eyes.

Dean swallows the last bite of his muffin and crumples the paper in his hand. “Would it be okay if I tried talking to her?”

“Uhm,” she gives him a irritated look in response. She must see the sincerity and gentleness in his eyes though, because after a few moments of consideration she says, “Yeah, sure. I’m gonna be inside and make sure the mob lets your brother live.”

Dean crosses the porch. “Ella right? Okay if I sit with you?” She nods, the movement only barely noticeable, and the man takes a seat right next to her, letting his eyes roam the beautiful garden.

“How old are you, Ella?” he wants to know. Not the best conversation starter, but it does the job.

“Five.” The little girl turns her head towards Dean and adds, “And a half.”

“Five and a half, wow, so you’re basically almost a grown up, right?” He nudges against her arm, causing a shy giggle into her knees.

“Wanna tell me why you’re not playing with the others?” he asks her with a fond smile.

Ella stops giggling and hugs her knees even more tightly. Several seconds pass until she mumbles, “It’s my mommy’s birthday, too.”

Oh great. Well done, Winchester. Making a small girl even more miserable than she already is.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t know that,” he tries to appease, “You miss your parents, huh?” He puts an arm around her shoulders when she, once again, nods into her knees. “Y’know, I lost my mom too.” He doesn’t even know why he’s telling her this, but it seemed like the right thing to say.

She lifts her head and looks at him, teary-eyes, blinking her long lashes repeatedly, “Really?”

“Yeah, I was four,” he says, rubbing soothing circles into her shoulder, “My brother Sammy was only six months old, so he doesn’t really remember her. But I do. And I miss her every single day.”

Ella leans against him, relaxes into his tender embrace, not even looking up. “Every day?” Her voice barely more than a whisper.

“Every day,” Dean repeats. “You never forget your parents. And it’ll always hurt to think about them. But, the thing is, I’ve always had my brother, y’know. He’s my family. And even though your mom and dad can’t be here with you right now, you got a family too. You’ve got Nancy, and Tim, and Tyler, and Jessie... and all the others whose names I can’t remember.”

He can feel Ella’s chuckle against his ribs and goes on, “But Ella, that doesn’t mean you don’t love your parents anymore. Or that you have to forget them. It just means that there are people who care about you, who are there for you when you need them.”

Dean pushes himself off the porch and stretches a hand out for the slightly confused looking little girl, “C’mon, I wanna show you something.”

Dean opens the passenger door for Ella to climb into the car, and then rounds the Impala to get behind her wheel. He quickly rummages through his cassette collection, decides for a Led Zeppelin tape and puts it into the deck.

For a few minutes they just sit and listen to quiet classic rock, until Dean starts talking again. “This was my parent’s car. For my brother and me this is home,” he says. “Whenever I miss them, or I think I might forget them, I just sit in here and remember the time when we were still all together. It’s not the same, I know, but… it’s our home.”

He turns his head towards Ella on the passenger seat, “Do you have something that belonged to your parents?”

Ella nods and fishes a silver necklace out of her shirt collar with careful fingers, “This was my mommy’s.” She holds the little round pendant out for Dean, before her eyes get stuck on the tape deck, a small grin ghosting over her lips, “And my Daddy had a cassette collection like you. I’ve got it under my bed in my room.”

Dean darts her a wide smile in response, “See? They’re always here. Whenever you listen to your dad’s music, he’s right there with you. And-” he points at her necklace- “so is your mom.”

He fumbles for his wallet, flips it open and pulls out the picture of his mom, along with a small piece of paper. It’s slightly crinkled and a little rough and even torn on some places around the edges. “Here.” Dean offers Ella the photo, “This is my mom.”

She takes it, mirrors the smile Mary has on the picture, and runs her fingers gently over the photo, “She’s very pretty.”

“Yeah, she was,” Dean answers. He unfolds the small piece of paper and grins.

“What’s that?” Ella wants to know and leans across the front seat.

“Sammy, my brother, gave this to me when we were teenagers. He said he’d seen the quote and had to think of me, so he wrote it down. I always have it with me. It’s from a guy called Cicero, he said: ‘The life of the dead is placed on the memories of the living. The love you gave in life keeps people alive beyond their time. Anyone who was given love will always live on in another's heart’.”

Dean chuckles at the puzzled expression on Ella’s face, “It means that, as long as we keep thinking of the people we lost, they’re never completely dead.” He points a finger at her chest, “Because they still live inside our hearts.”

They spend the rest of the day jumping around in the bounce house and drowning in the ball pit, eating tons of amazing birthday cake, playing tag and flirting with Nancy - the latter only on the part of Dean.

When they’re about to leave the foster home after dinner - pizza for everyone - Ella tugs on Dean’s flannel sleeve.

Nancy’s smile is even wider than usual as she’s beaming at Dean with a knowing expression. He crouches down to Ella and she hands him a cassette, shyly glancing down at the floor. He takes it from her and reads the heading: ‘Bruce Springsteen - ‘84’.

“That one of your dad’s?” Dean asks her with a broad grin.

Ella’s gaze is still focused on the floor as she hums her response, “Mhm.” She slowly looks up at him and gives him a smile that makes his chest ache, “I want you to have it… so you don’t forget me.”

“Oh geez, thank you, sweetheart.” He pulls her into his arms and hugs her tightly, whispering in her ear, “Your Dad had a great taste in music, y’know.”

“Thank you for talking to her,” Nancy says to Dean when they’re out on the street, standing next to the Impala, “She seems… I don’t know, lighter somehow. I think you actually helped her a lot, so, thank you.” The brunette woman stands up on her tiptoes and cranes her head to place a soft kiss on Dean’s cheek.

The Impala heads off, Sam holding the Springsteen cassette in his hands, “Seems like someone’s got a new girlfriend,” and wiggles his eyebrows to tease his brother.

Dean snatches the cassette from Sam’s hands and glares at him in feigned offendedness. “You’re just jealous because she likes me better than you. And because I got a present and a peck on the cheek and you didn’t.” He briefly contemplates whether he should stick out his tongue at his younger brother, but then decides against it. He’s a mature, grown up man after all.

“Well, yeah. I mean, while you were flirting with the ladies, I almost threw up, because the kids made me eat like five pieces of cake and then wanted me to jump all around the house.” Sam chuckles to himself, however, which means he’s not really as pissed as he pretends to be.

A few minutes pass in companionable silence until the younger brother speaks up again, “Y’know, I get why she’s doing this. Nancy, I mean. Did you see how happy the kids were? It’s absolutely worth the risk.”

Dean simply nods in response, eyes focused on the street, as they’re headed towards the next motel for the night.

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omegaling · 6 years

Text

Allez Cuisine! ~Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen: Biscuits and Double Doubles

The chicken in the hot skillet popped, and the only thing that saved Rey’s cashmere sweater from being ruined by flying globs of molton butter were reflexes earned from working with spitting meats, roiling hot broths and sauces for a living. She glared at the offending pieces of poultry, still plump and pink and unassuming as they sizzled away. She already knew that wearing nice clothing while cooking came with considerable risk; she didn’t need to be reminded of it by her own dinner.

It wasn’t as though she didn’t have other clothes to wear. However, it just so happened that all her casual day-to-day clothes were in desperate need of a wash (she hadn’t planned on doing her laundry until Monday, because who washes clothes while on vacation?). So that left her to choose between faded sweatpants and over-stretched sweatshirts or the outfits she saved for more formal occasions. Since she had sworn long ago that the former was saved only for the comforts of home and in the presence of close friends, she had no choice but to wear one of her nicer sweaters and pair of jeans tonight. It certainly had nothing to do with the fact that Kylo was coming over for dinner.

The same went for the hours she put into vacuuming and dusting the apartment and scrubbing the kitchen counters and cabinets until they gleamed. It was just one of those things she kept putting off that needed to get done.

It was a little harder to make excuses to why she decided to shave her legs in late November, when it would be at least another five months before she wore anything resembling shorts again.

She didn’t even attempt to justify her choice to wear makeup, or in why she was wearing her sexiest bra and panties.

The watch on Rey’s wrist chirped the hour, and her grip on the tongs in her hand instantaneously tightened; Kylo was due to arrive at any moment. If she was going to be completely honest with herself, she still wasn’t entirely certain if inviting him to dinner was the smartest thing to do. True, he apologized about being an ass about her humble upbringing, but there was still that small, unsavory detail about their last face-to-face when she hurled his real name at him before she left. The memory of the look he gave her before she walked out his door haunted her for days afterward. She had expected rage and shock and indignation, but what she hadn’t expected was… She couldn’t quite put it into words, but the closest emotion she could compare it to was fear. As though that by saying his name had consequences she didn’t understand.

Against her better judgement, Rey did a Google search for Ben Solo and was surprised to see that it yielded very few relevant results. The top results were only a handful of articles from culture and entertainment publications, all of which were at least ten years old. When they did refer to Ben, it was only as a passing mention as the only son of Leia Organa and Han Solo, as though he was nothing more than an afterthought, or maybe a footnote. There were even fewer pictures of him; just a few shots of a tall, gangly teenager with his eyes cast to the ground, trailing behind a smartly dressed woman who held herself with all the grace and confidence of royalty. In the captions, he was simply referred to as “Leia Organa’s son, Ben,” as though he were a mere accessory.

Rey did come across some old interviews done with Han Solo when Going Solo was still being filmed, but those were even more disheartening. While Han always told the journalist yes, he would love to take his family with him on his travels and that he believed the bonds formed on the open road were priceless, Rey wondered how much of an effort was really made in getting Ben on the show… or what discouraged him from ever bothering to try.

What Rey didn’t find was anything touching on the fact that Ben Solo and Kylo Ren were the same person: no gossip, no fansite conspiracies, no comment from some random bloke saying Kylo looked like someone they went to high school with. Even sites like Twitter and Reddit were strangely mum for once. It was almost as if Ben Solo was phased out of existence, fading further into obscurity with each passing year, and for whatever reason, being reminded of who he once was scared Kylo something awful.

Rey’s grip tightened around her tongs as a wave of indignant anger welled up in her. Though she had no evidence to back it up and no reason to believe it, she knew deep in her gut that Snoke was behind it. How could he not? She did not know how Snoke managed to turn the son of his greatest rival to his side, but if half of what Rey heard about that horrible man was true, she could not imagine how deep he had his claws in Kylo to ensure remained loyal to him, no matter what. The fear in his eyes was testament enough to that.

A knock on the front door nearly sent the tongs flying from Rey’s hand, her mind rapidly flashing “he’s here he’s here he’s here” like an over-excited teenager going on her first date before she reigned it in. She had to make herself not sprint to the door, but instead to calmly turn the chicken over, confirm she was satisfied with the golden-brown hue it had taken on, then calmly walk to the entryway. Her hands had a small tremor in them, but that was quickly done away with by rubbing them against her jeans. By the time she opened the door, she was confident that she was composed enough so at least the night wouldn’t start on an awkward note.

Kylo stood in the building’s hallway, once again immaculate in a finely woven sweater, smartly creased pants and hair falling to his shoulders in soft waves. In one hand he held a bottle of white wine, and in the other…

… a bouquet of sunflowers and yellow roses.

Rey felt her heart seize and stutter, regaining its normal rhythm just before it stopped completely.

Shit.

So much for keeping the night casual.

It’s finally happened. I’m turning into my father.

To say that Kylo had few fond moments of his father was an understatement. Long before Going Solo was ever pitched to a network, Han had been a fleeting presence in Ben Solo’s life; at home only when he wasn’t off gallivanting around with Lando Calrissian or Tobias Beckett on whatever new scheme they cooked up. Things would be good for a few weeks - Ben could almost fool himself into thinking they felt like a real family, and maybe this time it would stay that way.

Then the arguments would start. At first they would be small, over things that should have been inconsequential, but soon they’d grow in frequency and intensity until his mother and father’s voices filled the house. Something would break, a door would slam shut, his mother would cry in whatever chair was closest for her to sink into, all the while Ben huddled in his closet with his hands over his ears, waiting for it to be over. The next day his mother would try to reassure him that she and his father really did love each other, and that sometimes adults had issues they needed to figure out by themselves. Then she would throw herself into her work, leaving him largely in the care of nannies as she visited the trendiest new restaurants, made appearances at press events and gave interviews. Or, she would simply shut herself up in her office for what seemed like days on end, working on her articles.

Then, after a month or two of hearing nothing from him, Han would reappear on the doorstep of their brownstone with a bouquet of flowers for Leia and a treat for Ben from wherever he’d been: Moon Pies from Tennessee, Garett popcorn from Chicago, maple sugar candies from New Hampshire. And, like a couple of idiots, he and Leia welcomed him back every time and the cycle would start all over again, when what they should have done was slam it in his face.

Rey didn’t slam the door on him, but the bewildered look on her face made the palms of his hands slick with sweat and his heart do a weird little stutter behind his ribs. Had he somehow misread her texts? There wasn’t a lot of ways to misinterpret “come over for dinner” and “be here at six,” yet in that moment, as they stared at each other from either side of the threshold of her apartment, he was convinced there was something he got wrong.

“Flowers.”

Kylo blinked, the one word stopping his spiraling thoughts before they descended into full-blown panic. “I’m sorry?”

“You brought flowers.” Rey’s words had no tone or infliction in them, which meant Kylo had no way to gauge her reaction. Was she surprised? Annoyed? Offended? Her eyes were so wide he could see the reflection of the bright yellow petals in them. Kylo was known around the culinary world for his cuisine that awoke desire and lust in even the most prudent of diners, so people naturally assumed that being a Casanova in the kitchen meant being one in all aspects of his life. If any of his peers found out that he was really as suave as an acne-ridden teenager out on his first date they’d laugh until they pissed themselves.

Suddenly Rey jerked as if something had jabbed her which - embarrassingly - made Kylo jump in turn. “Oh, shit!” she exclaimed before dashing back into her apartment, leaving him to stand alone and confused in her building’s hallway. He was just about to leave when he heard her shout “You can come in!” from somewhere inside her home. Sighing in relief, Kylo stepped into her apartment.

Rey’s apartment that she shared with a roommate was exactly as Kylo pictured it (not that he dwelled on how she spent her time when she wasn’t cooking, thank you very much). The modest space was filled with an array of furniture that looked to have come from second-hand stores: the cushions of overstuffed couch were frayed and the arms threadbare in some places; the surface of the coffee table had a map of old scars from coaster neglect that not even a fresh coat of polish could hide; a bookshelf filled with an array of Blu Rays, video games, and books, with framed photos and an assortment of trinkets and brick-a-brac took up what free space was left. A candle burned in the center of the coffee table, giving off a subtle scent of pumpkin pie spice and cloves, and a lighted fall garland draped over the entertainment center gave off a warm, cozy feeling that embodied the holiday season. It was all so wholesome: relaxed and lived-in, where friendships were cultivated and fond memories created.

It was a stark reminder of how much Kylo did not belong here. In Rey’s world: in her life.

There were personal touches and details throughout the apartment that hinted that its occupants were not typical 20-something college students. All art hanging on the walls related to food in some form or fashion: vintage prints of French pastries, art nouveau green fairies, watercolor paintings of herbs, charts showcasing all the different varieties of sushi and pasta, and stylized baking utensils with short, motivational quotes such as “life is short, lick the bowl!” A smaller bookshelf situated between the dining table and the kitchen counter held not only an array of cookbooks ranging from horderves to Chinese cuisine by region, but also a number of chef autobiographies, books on culinary history, and stacks of magazines stuffed in the bottommost two shelves. The pots and pans that hung neatly from hooks on the kitchen walls definitely did not come from Target, and he knew for a fact that most people wouldn’t be able to identify half of the utensils and knives he saw at a cursory glance, much less know how to properly use them.

Rey was in the apartment’s small kitchenette, transferring golden-brown chicken breasts from a frying pan to a glass baking dish. There was something different about her tonight; Kylo had noticed the moment she opened the door. It was only as she busied herself with dinner that Kylo risked a glance to determine what it was. It did not take him long to figure it out: it was evident in the dusky pink sheen of her lips and the hint of smoky shadow on her eyelids and the tan cashmere sweater outlining the gentle swell of her breasts and hips, not obscuring them as most of her clothing did.

She looked nice. Not just pretty as she always did in her casual, au natural way, but done-up nice. Date nice.

Suddenly there wasn’t anything Kylo wanted to do more than throw the flowers into the nearest garbage can. He could only imagine what Rey must have thought when she saw them. He had only grabbed them on a whim as an apology for being such an ass, hence their color (never mind the fact that the sunflowers made him think of her the instant he saw them). Then again, she had obviously put time into her appearance before he arrived, not knowing he’d be bringing flowers. Had she just been nervous about being the host for once and wanted to make a good impression? Or what if - like his flowers - there was a subconscious reason for doing what she did, and did not realize it until they were standing face-to-face?

When he was about five or so, Han nearly drove Ben insane with the age-old “chicken or the egg” debate. Now, thirty-something years later, he was feeling much as he did then.

“Sorry about running off like that,” Rey said as she set the pan down on a cool burner. “Nearly forgot I had chicken on the stove. Then again,” she added with a small laugh with just a touch of nervousness in it, “it wouldn’t be Maz’s golden mushroom casserole if the chicken wasn’t slightly overcooked.”

“No, it’s fine,” Kylo said absently, mostly because he wasn’t sure what else to say. He did, however, notice the rest of the ingredients neatly lined along the countertop: several cans of Cambell’s golden mushroom soup, a bottle of inexpensive sauvignon blanc, and a bowl piled high with a mix of shredded yellow and white cheese. An automatic rice cooker ticked away by the sink, occasionally emitting up puffs of steam. “So I get to try this infamous dinner tonight?”

“If you knew that’s what I was making, would you still have come over?” Rey was rummaging through one of her cabinets so her voice was muffled, making it nearly impossible for Kylo to determine her tone of voice.

“Of course I would have,” he answered, and he meant it. Rey could have told him she was heating up TV dinners in her microwave and he still would have accepted her invitation without hesitation.

Rey emerged at last from the cabinet, a glass pitcher in hand. “I thought I had a vase lying around somewhere, but I guess not,” she said, more to herself than to him. She filled the pitcher with water, then motioned for Kylo to pass the flowers to her. He obliged, their fingers brushing as the bouquet passed from his hand to hers. He immediately dropped his hand to his side as she arranged the flowers in the pitcher, flexing it and unable to ignore how his skin tingled where it had touched hers, even for that brief instant.

He was so screwed.

At a loss for what else to do or say at the moment, Rey offered Kylo to have a seat and returned to finish their dinner. It wasn’t easy, not with Kylo sitting at her counter, looking almost too big for her modest-sized apartment. It was even harder to not show how nervous she felt. The same hands that could de-bone a duck or french a rack of lamb in less than five minutes now shook so bad as she measured the amount of wine she needed to mix into the soup that some of it sloshed over the side of the cup she was holding.

(She was suddenly very glad she didn’t choose to make anything more complex, otherwise tonight might have ended with a trip to the ER).

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

Thankfully, Rey didn’t jump; if she had, then she would have showered the whole kitchen with a giant handful of cheese. “Oh...um…” she stammered, thinking fast. “This is practically done, it just needs to go in the oven. However,” she added quickly, “there’s a tube of biscuits in the refrigerator, if you want to get those ready. The baking sheets are to the right of the oven. Unless you think that’s too many carbs with the rice.”

“I don’t mind,” Kylo said as he joined her in the kitchen. “The war on carbs was a dark time in culinary history. I knew quite a few Italian chefs and bakers who almost had to close their businesses because their food was seen as ‘bad’ thanks to a few choice buzz words from companies pushing their low-carb products on people who didn’t know better.”

“And how can anyone possible refuse a basket of hot bread with real butter when it’s right there on the table? That’s just not right. If there was such thing as a perfect food in the world, that’d be it.”

“I think I have to contest that,” Kylo said with what could have been a chuckle, but Rey couldn’t sure since his head was currently in her fridge.

“While you’re in there, can you grab me a Yuengling? You can help yourself to one too if you’d like. I know you brought wine, but I figured we can save that for dinner.”

Kylo emerged from the refrigerator, a tube of Pillsbury biscuits in one hand and two green bottles dangling by their necks in the other. He pushed the door closed with his elbow, then paused. Rey looked up from the oven as she pushed the casserole in, then froze when she realized what he was looking at. It was a photograph of three Ghostbusters, one Stay Puft Marshmallow girl and a Sumerian demigod, inebriated and excited from having just placed in a costume contest. Rey loved that picture, even though she looked positively unflattering with her disheveled blonde wig and suggestively licking the blaster of her Proton pack. She could only imagine what it must look like to Kylo, or what he was thinking seeing her with Finn and Poe. She did, however, hope that knowing she was friends with them outside of work didn’t sour the evening, but she braced herself for an abrupt end all the same.

To her surprise, Kylo only said, “That’s a good look for you.”

A laugh escaped her. “Glad you think so. I was pretty hammered at that point,” she said, closing the oven door and standing up. “I don’t even remember that picture being taken.”

“I could never get Phasma or Hux to do anything like that. Well, maybe Phas if the conditions were right. Hux is about as much fun as an intestinal parasite, and he’d probably try to contract one just to get out of it.” Kylo handed the beers over the Rey. She quickly popped off their tops with a bottle opener and passed one back to him, telling herself that she was not disappointed when their hands didn’t touch again. “Do you spend a lot of time with Dameron and Trooper outside of work?”

“Considering Finn’s my roommate and Poe’s his boyfriend, just a bit,” she answered, hoping to keep her tone light. Then, feeling a little bolder, she continued: “I’d like there to be a time when I don’t have to keep meeting you in secret. That there’s some kind of neutral ground all of us can find. Not any time soon. Just… some day.”

Rey knew she was poking a hornet’s nest; Kylo’s shoulders instantly tensed, and a very long moment passed before he spoke.

“Someday. Maybe. I wish I could give you a better answer Rey, but right now I can’t. It’s...complicated.”

It’s Snoke and the leash he’s keeping on you, you mean, Rey wanted to challenge, but she was done testing her luck for the night. She only nodded and said, “Someday is a good enough answer for me right now if it’s good for you.”

Before they could lapse back into silence, Rey quickly changed the subject to more familiar territory. “So,” she said, hoisting herself onto the counter on the opposite side of the sink. “You said you didn’t agree with my claim that bread and butter is one of the most perfect foods. What then, in your infinite gastronomy wisdom, is?”

“An In ‘n Out Double Double animal style, of course,” Kylo said, opening the can of biscuits with a wet, airy pop.

Rey couldn’t help the astonished noise she made. “Doth my ears deceive me? The great Kylo Ren’s favorite food is a fast food burger?”

“You’ve obviously never had an In ‘n Out burger,” he chided. “To be honest, if you had asked me that same question a few weeks ago, I would have given you a completely different and horribly clique answer like I would for a magazine interview; just some fabrication of what people want to hear, and not what I really think or feel.” He stopped placing the biscuits on the baking sheet and looked at her, his eyes so intensely focused that it took her breath away. “You changed that.”

Rey swallowed thickly, taking a sip of her beer to hide what that gaze did to her, inside and out. “Oh? How did I manage to do that?”

Was it her imagination, or did his eyes wander down the length of her body, taking in the way her neck arched when she drank from her bottle to how her jeans conformed to the curve of her thighs and calves? Rey never was very good at picking up on cues when people genuinely flirted with her, and she was even worse when trying to flirt with someone herself. Was she reading too much into that look, or not enough? She barely managed to hold her shit together when he showed up on her doorstep with flowers, and now he was damn near looking at her like he had when he spoke of Hades and Persephone on Iron Chef America. If he made any kind of real move…

Luckily (or unluckily; Rey wasn’t quite sure which) she wouldn’t be finding out, because he returned to the task at hand. “Because you were right,” he continued. “People shouldn’t disown their pasts. Especially chefs. For most of us, our passions were born from the kitchens of our mothers and grandmothers, learning what was passed down to them from their grandmothers and back through generations. Other chefs always return to that one defining moment when they discovered food was special. Important. That sharing the right meal with the right person can make it feel like all’s well in the world.”

Kylo’s voice grew so soft that Rey wondered if he was only talking to himself. She wanted nothing more than to slide from her perch and wrap her arms around him, but she didn’t want to risk him withdrawing back into himself because of her unwanted advances. When he didn’t say anything else, Rey gently prompted, “So which one are you? The pupil of generations past, or a single moment of epiphany?”

“It was a boy and his father sitting on a pier in Southern California, eating fast food burgers and watching the sun set over the ocean and seagulls fighting over dropped fries. And the boy thought, maybe if he learned to make food just like that hot, greasy, wonderful sandwich, maybe the father would stick around for a change.”

Rey’s body moved on its own accord, sliding off the counter and crossing the kitchen to lay her hand on his: their first true intimate touch.

He wouldn’t look at her.

“Is that what happened to Ben Solo? Is he still on that pier, waiting for his father to come back?”

She waited for him to answer, but the oven timer went off instead.

“I’ll go set the table,” he said softly, his hand sliding out from under hers as he moved toward the cabinets where she and Finn kept the dishes. Rey’s heart ached for him, but at the same time she could not deny that she also felt a little happy, as selfish as that was.

Kylo was opening up to her. More importantly, he wasn’t running away.

For now, that was enough.

“How did you find out?” Kylo asked, passing Rey a dinner plate freshly rinsed of suds.

“It turns out that my foster mother knew your father from way back,” Rey said, accepting the plate and attacking it with her dish towel. “Do you happen to remember Maz Kanata?”

Kylo made a noise that was somewhere between a laugh and a groan. “Oh yes, I remember old Maz. And I can already hear what she’ll say when you tell her you proved me wrong about her cooking.” Rey giggled, recalling how Kylo unabashedly accepted seconds of the steamy, cheesy concoction that he once deemed sounded “revolting.” “Did she say anything specific about me, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Rey shrugged with one shoulder. “Not really. Only that you were a scrawny kid and you need to call your mother,” she said, taking another dinner plate from him. “But I’m assuming that’s another complicated issue?”

“Very,” Kylo agreed solemnly, and Rey took that as a cue that that particular part of the conversation was over.

“It’s funny, though, how things like that come full circle,” Rey mused. “Your dad and my mom were once friends, and now here we are, cooking for each other and washing the dinner dishes afterwards.”

Like friends. Maybe even almost like a couple.

Kylo grunted in affirmation, scrubbing at the crusty cheese that ringed the baking dish. The sleeves of his sweater were rolled up to his elbows, and fluffy soap suds covered his forearms. Maybe it was the earlier beer and half a bottle of white bordeaux in her system, but Rey suddenly felt devilishly mischievous. Reaching across the sink, she caught of blob of bubbles on her finger and then dabbed it on the very end of Kylo’s nose.

Kylo jerked back as if he’d been shocked, and the look he gave her was so incredulous that Rey couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“What was that for?” he demanded, hastily scrubbing the bubbles off.

“You’re just so serious all the time,” Rey said through her mirth.

Kylo turned away, but before Rey could wonder if she’d gone too far he scooped up a handful of bubbles and smeared it in her hair.

Rey practically shrieked and threw herself at him, armed with a softball-sized ball of bubbles. Before she could reach her intended target - Kylo’s aggravatingly handsome face - he effortlessly caught her wrists and pinned her arms behind her back, her forward momentum causing her to crash against him.

Rey’s breath hitched in her chest, which only made her more acutely aware of the way her body was pressed flush to his. It was impossible to believe there was a time he was made up of anything other than knees and elbows, not when he felt like a living mountain against her own softer curves, his thick arms on either side of her efficiently trapping her. How many times had she imagined herself in a situation just like this with him, with the fingers of one hand curled inside her and the other on her breast as a cheap mockery of his sensual mouth? How would this night end if she rolled her hips into his, or if she pushed herself up on her toes and closed the space between their lips? If the dark light in his eyes was anything to go by, he was thinking the exact same thing.

That was until he cleared his throat and released her hands, taking a step back. “Truce?”

“Sure… Truce,” Rey agreed reluctantly. “I can finish the dishes later. Do you maybe want to watch a movie or something…?”

“Actually, I should get going. Vader is hosting its first major executive Christmas party this week and there are a few kinks in the menu I still need to work out.”

Rey hoped her disappointment wasn’t too evident as she walked him to the door. He shrugged into his coat and put on his shoes, but as he reached for the doorknob he paused, looking back at her.

“Maybe after the new year and our schedules clear up we can do something together. Something non-food related, I mean.”

Rey’s heart skipped a beat. “You mean like a date?”

The tips of Kylo’s ears turned red. “Yeah, I guess I do mean like a date.”

Rey smiled, causing Kylo’s ears to go even more read than before. “I’d love to.”

Kylo took Rey’s hand and raised it to his mouth, brushing a kiss over her knuckles. He thanked her again for dinner and left.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Rey raised her hand to her mouth and gently pressed her knuckles to her lips, breathing in the lingering scent of Kylo’s aftershave hanging in the entryway and wondering if, some day, the same scent would be left on her pillow too.

#reylo #reylo fan fiction #reylo au #reylo chef au #allez cuisine!#omegaling writes

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a-starry-eyed-pessimist · 7 years

Text

My Haunting Past

The trailer park smelled of dirty dogs, pot, and random burning items. Burning cloth, hair, food, and plastic. The smell was faint but after you’ve been away from this place for so long the smell feels like a punch in the face. You can almost taste these things. The gravel paths and driveways crunched beneath my now grown feet. Broken glass everywhere in a variety of different colors; green, blue, black, and clear. Cats and dogs covered in dirt are skin and bones. In a pile, by my old bus stop, bullet shells are scattered. The memories wash over me. The gunfire, drag racing, and trains were my lullabies. There I stood in front of my old home.

“Kate!” a thick southern, hillbilly accent yelled from the next trailer over. I whipped my head around to be greeted by a blonde flat chested woman. Her hair was in a ponytail. She was missing teeth, in a tank top and ripped, acid washed jeans. I smiled as big as her,

“Mary! Is that you?” I knew it was her. “You look so good.” by that I meant her hair was brushed.

“Yeah, it’s me!” “look at you, miss Ivy league!” I went to the University of Alabama.

“What about me?” I asked. Mary was finally standing in front of me. She huffed and looked me up and down.

“Such soft, long, brown hair.” she touched my hair. “Big white teeth. And your clothes! … “Who do you think you are?” she questioned.

I laughed. “I know…I don’t wear those overalls anymore.” She laughed at the comment. She kept looking at me and then…finally hugged me. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m just visiting. I’m here for 3 days, then I have to fly out. I wanted to see the old place.”

“Nice. Well… who have you seen?”

“Just you.”

“Want to see Nathan?”

I laughed nervously. “I don’t know.”

Mary grabbed my hand and ushered me towards her trailer. “I married that man. “

“Nathan?”

“Don’t hate me. You left, to go big time.” I’m a principal in D.C

“It’s fine. Has he changed?”

“Not really. He works construction now.”

“What about you?”

“I’m the local nanny. Since you left I’m the smart one.”

I just smiled and nodded. As we approached the broken screen door. The smell of nicotine filled my nose. “Nath! Guess whos here?” Mary yelled, walking in.

“Who?” I could hear him get up from his seat as I walked in. He looked at me, stumbled and blinked his eyes clear. His drunken state was upsetting. “Cat?”

“Kate. and Hi Nathan.” I answered with seriousness.

“Wow,” He nodded, and gathered himself. His eyes slightly roamed my body. “I can’t believe it’s you.”

Nathan had a beer belly peeking out from a tattered shirt. Had shaggy untamed hair, and hairy arms. He’s aged but not as bad as the other residents of the park. Mary and I have emailed each other and written letters. She’s told me Nathan was still a good guy all in all. He didn’t beat those he loved. He wasn’t a cheater. Although he drank and had no motivation. Granted practically everyone here had those two things in common. Mary was the only one I stayed in contact with over the years.

I looked at Mary. and we both stayed silent. “Cat, how’ve been?” He cleared his throat.

“Good,” I explained why I was there. How I was there to visit my dad and see the old place.

I was raised mainly by my dad. My mom disappeared when I was little. My loving father died in a car accident. He was picking up food to celebrate my acceptance into The University of Alabama. After that, I was 18 and alone. I rented out the trailer until I graduated. I brought my suitcase to the graduation. I was ready to make a clean break from everyone I knew. The second I stepped off that stage, a degree in hand, I got on the next Greyhound to Birmingham. Not looking back, I left my boyfriend, Nathan, and my friends in the dust of that bus. I didn’t even change my clothes until I was in my new dorm. I had money from my dad and went out to get a mirror, mini-fridge, and some food. I unpacked and looked at myself in the shiny mirror. I saw the dirty, white cap and gown flow over me. Under that, I had dirty jeans and my dads’ favorite shirt on. I shook my head and changed into my new University of Alabama sweatshirt. I folded the shirt nicely and placed it in my new dresser. I changed into some sweatpants and threw the jeans away. I looked at myself in my new mirror and smiled. It was the first time I was genuinely happy since I got my acceptance letter. Finally… I’m out. My roommate was a wealthy southern debutante, who took particular interest in my “hillbilly lifestyle.” She’s my best friend to this day.

I snapped out of my flashback.

Nathan and Mary were sitting on the couch eager to talk to me.

“So. Kate.” he patted the spot on the couch between Mary and himself. I sat down and looked at him. “Yeah?”

“What are you doing now?”

“I’m a principal, in D.C”

“Wow. bet you have a nice house?”

“I have a pretty nice apartment.”

“Apartment? Not too different from where you grew up then?” He laughed and nudged me. I laughed at the joke too. “You know, we were all worried after you left.”

I looked down at my feet. “You knew where I was.”

“Yeah, but you could’ve said goodbye? I haven’t seen you since then.”

“I wrote. I wrote to you and Mary, explaining where I was and said my goodbyes.”

Mary laughed “We know. It’s ok.”

Mary looked at the microwave for the time.”I have to go and get the Rollans kids.”

“Collin Rollans?” I questioned.

“Yup. with Lilly Poppers.” she cooed.

“Where are the kids?” I asked.

“Bus stop. I’ll be back after. Lilly gets home.”

“I guess I should go too.” I began to emerge from the lumpy sofa.

“No. No. You gettin dinner with us and the gang.”

I huffed. “I should get to my hotel. I’m getting tired.”

“Come on!?” The two begged for me to stay. So I did. For dinner out with my old friends.

“Great. we’ll leave when I come home. I’ll call the old gang too.” Mary left me and Nathan alone to talk. Once Mary was out the door, Nathan looked at me shyly.

“Before everyone goes crazy about the news that your back…I need to ask you something.” He smiled.

“What?”

“What happened to our plan in high school? We planned to visit each other. Then after I got a job in construction and you got your fancy job, we would move into a big house together.”

I laughed awkwardly. “I don’t know…I guess I moved on.”

“I visited you. But when I found you. You were mingling with the high and mighty. And hitched up already. When I wrote you, never wrote back.”

“That was months after I started school. I was moved on from this place” I gestured around me and outside. I continued, “I didn’t need anyone pulling me back.”

“So, you remember.”

I became annoyed. “Remember what?”

“My visit.”

“Yes.”

Part 2: The Visit…

My memories went back to that day. I was outside of a cafe waiting for Nathan. Chrissy, my debutant roommate, and Bruno, a Football player were there with me. They were my closest friends. Chrissy wore a light blue designer dress. Bruno, in jeans and a T-shirt. I was wearing a dress with black converse. Once I left the park, I tried many different styles. Girly with an edge seemed to be the one that was most like me. The three of was waited for maybe an hour before a southern boy with thick curly hair appeared. He had a jean jacket on with dark blue jeans covering his cowboy boots. I smiled and stood up.

“Nathan.” I greeted him with half excitement

“Cat, you look…different”

I smiled, “Uh…thanks”

He looked over at my new friends. I followed his gaze and eagerly introduced them.

“Bruno, Chrissy this is my old friend Nathan.” The two popped up and shook his dirty hand.

“Uh..hi” He retorted. The four of us sat down. Chrissy, bless her heart tried to smooth out the silence. In her distinguished, southern belle accent she spoke. “So, you lived in the trailer park with Kate?” I put my head down in embarrassment.

“Chriss?” I cleared my throat

“Oh, my…sorry If that was rude”

“No,” Nathan said. “You just sound fancy as hell.”

“I’m not.” she laughed. She lowered her head closer to the table, and looked at the three of us, and whispered, “I’m not even religious.”

We all laughed. You can count on her to break the ice. Bruno looked at Nathan.

“Damn dude. You could be a quarterback.”

“I was in high school.” Nathan shifted his tone to annoyed, “Guess not good enough for this shit school.”

Bruno laughed awkwardly. That brought another wave of silence. We began to talk about classes. Which Nathan could be apart of.

“I hate biomechanics.” I laughed.

The three others chuckled as well. Nathan still giggling, asked, “why?”

“I’m so bad at it..” I exaggerated while rolling my eyes.

Chrissy lifted her eyebrow, “Even with the help of Ethan?”

I turned red and then abruptly looked at Nathan.

“Ethan?” He asked.

Bruno tried to stop Chrissy’s word vomit but failed. “He’s a guy Kate has been seeing.”

Nathan became annoyed but shook it off. He stared at me with anger and eager.

“Cat, I came here to bring you back.”

“What? Nathan…”

“No, listen…” He interrupted me.

“You belong with us, at the park, Not with fancy princesses and football players.”

I furrowed my brow. “No.”

“But…”

“No, You are not here to do that. I know where I’m happy and it’s here.” I’ve forgotten that Bruno and Chrissy were there as I ripped into Nathan. “I know where I belong, and it’s here. People here are smart and they challenge me.”

“You don’t need that. I need that and you!”

“No. I’m not going back.”

“Stop being a bitch.” Nathan barked. Bruno sat up with frustration.

“Don’t talk to her like that. You should go now, dude.”

“Fuck you.” Nathan barked again this time directed toward Bruno.

“Nathan!” I screamed.

“What!? You’ve become another person!”

“I’ve become a better person.”

“I beg to differ” He slurred

“Leave Nathan.”

“What?”

“I left the park. I know where I’m from. I never fit in. I finally feel like I belong. You have no right to make me feel bad or take that from me."

Nathan stood up and stormed off. His chair flying behind him, and leaving me and my quiet friends alone.

………

I looked at the aged version of my high school boyfriend. He looked at me in my sundress and boots almost like he was remembering that day.

“I didn’t mean to act that way.” he retorted

“I know.” I pushed out.

He looked at me with sad eyes.

“You still with that guy? The classmate.” Nathan asked with a gleam of hope.

“No. but I’m happily married to someone else.”

“Would he be angry or jealous if he knew you here with me?” he asked, lifting a seductive brow.

“No. He knows I’m here.”

“What does he do?”

“He’s a writer.”

“Where is he, then?”

“California. That’s where I’m headed. We’re moving there, for his career.”

He shifted his body. “Why not here with you?”

“He’s coming tomorrow so we can fly to our new home together” I was still annoyed and uncomfortable with his behavior.

“So, you have it all figured out then.” He became annoyed with me and my answer.

“No. What’s with the twenty questions? You’re married. And happy right?”

“Yeah. Just wondering.” He said in a unconvincing tone.

I stood up smoothing down my dress.

“I’m going to visit my dads grave before dinner. I’ll meet you guys at Buck’s Diner”

“Fine. Buck is going to be there. He’s out of the park too. You’ll like him.” I rolled my eyes in response.

I got in my rental car and drove to the grave site. I parked and pulled back the bushes and a small closed off clearing appeared. A sparkling lake was in the middle of the small yard and a willow tree draped over half the clearing. I stared at the grave under the massive tree. Nailed in the truck was a sign. I slowly wiped my hand over the sign. Bean Lake: dedicated to my daughter. I used to read under the tree and swim in the lake when I wanted to get away. Only the two of knew about this gem. Just me and him. I stepped up to the gravestone.

“Hey, Dad,” I said kneeling down. “I’m in town for three days. I’m also finally visiting the park after ten years.” I smiled and imagined his response. “I know…’about time.’ I just couldn’t see the place. It’s not filled with good memories for either of us. I’m glad I get to see everyone today. I want mary to move so I can visit her without…” I started to cry. “Without crying.” I cleared my throat. I visited his grave so many times before, but this time it was filled with reminders of the people I left behind. I took my dad with me but left the park behind. “I’m glad Mary is happy though. I’m happy, so I want her to feel how I feel…Oh! Derek and I are moving to California. He got a job in Hollywood. I have a job set up at a charter school. I’ll finally be able to lead without the common core..” I laughed. I can almost hear his laughter too. “I know you would be proud of me. You’d probably move next door to Derek and me, and of course, I’d buy the house for you.” I could hear his laughter again. “Buck owns his dad’s diner. Or so I heard. He lives in a suburb near here. I’m thrilled to hear that. He was the second smartest person there, after me of course. I can’t wait to see the others. I know everyone is happy…at least according to the emails from Mary. I’m so happy to see you dad.” I put flowers and nuts for the animals by his grave…he loved animals.

I took my boots off and hiked my dress up. I started to walk to the lake and dangled my feet in the warm sparkling water. I watched the squirrels gather around the nuts. The smell of flowers, fresh water, and clean grass filled the air around me. The best smell in the world was at this lake. They might have been faint, but after you’ve been away for so long the smell feels like the world is embracing you.

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imgilmoregirl · 7 years

Text

Bittersweet (Chapter 3)

AO3 Link

This chapter was revised by the wonderful @ethereal-wishes.

Gold lived in a big salmon house, nestled in one of the most distant parts of town. He had purchased it years ago, when he made his success as a lawyer, and ever since it was his home. Now, however, he had a son living there and was bringing a girl that was pregnant with his next child under his wing too, everything seemed confusing. Gold felt both angry with Lacey's decision and blessed for being given this child, apart from any circumstances. He parked his car in front of the house and there was an awkward moment where the two of them just sat there, without speaking and without knowing what to do. Lacey decided she had had enough of it and opened the door, getting out of the car. It took him another couple of seconds to follow her to the doorstep.

He took his keys from his pocked, toying nervously with them, a little afraid of the next move. Lacey however, didn't seem to have any patience to deal with his uncertainty now.

"Will you open the door or do you intend us to spend the rest of the night outside?" She asked, sarcastically.

"I'm sorry," Adam answered, plunging the key in the lock. He gesticulated for Lacey to enter the house. "Welcome, I do hope you can feel at home here."

What he truly hoped, was that at some point he would wake up and realize it all had been a dream and none of this was really happening. How was he capable of making a fool of himself this way? Had he really started writing a contract that guaranteed him full custody of the baby he had conceived with a much younger girl in a bar the night he was rejected by his bride? What kind of joke had his life turned into?

"Thank you," Lacey said a little too emphatically, before stepping in.

He followed her, leaving his laptop bag near the coatrack, assisting the brunette with her own coat. He walked towards the living room, seeing some toys spread on the floor. A soft genuine smile twitches at his mouth for the first time that day.

"Bae?" Gold called.

A little boy came running from the other end of the room, where he had been with the redhead chubby nanny, throwing himself in his father’s arms. Lacey couldn’t help but smile at that scene. Bae was the cutest thing she had ever laid her eyes on, his brow were a little wavy, his dark eyes shiny and a red superhero cape cascaded down his shoulders. That made her wonder for a brief moment if her child would be look as adorable as its half-brother. However, she quickly rid herself of those thoughts, remembering that she shouldn’t under any circumstances get attached to this baby. The separation would hurt even more if she started to care about it.

"Papa!"

"How is my boy?” Gold asked touching his cheek affectionally. “Did you have a great day at school?"

"Yeah, I drew something for you," Baden replied happily, rushing back to where he had been playing, opening the small full-coloured backpack that was resting on the floor.

Lacey thought that Gold’s house was definitely beautiful, but surely too dark. It had large windows to let the light in, but every single piece of furniture was painted in some shade of colour that was darker than her soul and it somehow made her feel a little depressed. In the past, her mother had furnished their tiny home with all white things and cheerful decorations, and the urge of doing the same in Gold’s house made her heart constrict in her chest.

Breathing in, Lacey shook her head. Her hormones must have been acting up for her to have such stupid thoughts.

"Mrs. Nolan said he is doing great," she caught the nanny saying to Gold.

"I bet he is, thank you Helga," Adam said sincerely, before touching the girl’s arm to get her attention, gesticulating in the woman’s direction. "Lacey, this is Bae's nanny, Helga Potts. Helga, this is Lacey, she is going to spend a couple of months here."

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Mrs. Potts answered, offering Lacey a brief handshake. "Do you want me to prepare one of the guestrooms for her before I leave?"

Gold nodded and Lacey realised that his nervous hand was still on her arm, stroking it so gently that it brought back memories of their night together, making her want to whisper to him that she didn’t want to be in any bedroom that night that wasn’t his, but she kept quiet. "I would be very grateful."

"Alright, it will be ready in a minute, Mr. Gold."

Helga disappeared up the staircase, and Baden toddled back over to where they were, a paper in his hands, but his deep brown gaze fixed on Lacey, as if now he realised she was there.

"Papa, who is she?" The little boy asked.

"This beautiful young woman, Bae, is a friend of mine,” Gold explained, kneeling on the floor, so their faces were at the same level. “Her name is Lacey."

"Hi,” he waved at her. “I'm Baden!"

"I know,” she returned with a smirk, “it is very nice to meet you, little boy."

Brushing at his son’s shoulder, Gold gathered the courage he needed to begin telling him in the softest way he could about the deal he had made with her; he just needed to find the right words to do so and not startle the boy.

"Is it ok for you if she stays with us for a while?"

"Yeah,” Bae agreed, before his eyebrows narrowed in concern, and he asked: “Is she homeless?"

Biting at her lip, Lacey suppressed a laugh.

"No, my boy,” Gold answered with a chuckle, “actually she here to help me give you a gift."

"A gift?” Baden’s eyes glowed. “I want it, can I see it?"

"Not yet."

"Can you tell me what is it?" He begged, showing his father those puppy dog eyes that he knew Gold wasn’t able to deny.

The problem, however, was that Adam seemed to have lost his ability to speak, because he didn’t know how to explain to his son that he had a one-night stand with a random woman in a bar, and gotten her pregnant. He was struggling to understand it had happened, and he didn’t know what exactly to tell his boy, until an old remembrance popped up in his mind.

"Remember when you used to ask your mama to give you a sibling to play with?" He asked Bae and the boy nodded. "Well, Lacey will bring one for you."

"You're having a baby?" Baden asked, stunned.

"I am," Lacey mumbled hesitantly, but in the second she finished her short sentence, Gold’s son threw his arms around her legs, surprising her and making her lose her balance a little. "Whoa."

"Thank you!” the boy said, sincerely. “Can it please be a boy?"

"I - "

"None of us get to choose what it is, son.” Gold interrupted, probably knowing that she had no idea of what she was going to say. “But now, can you promise me that you'll be good to Lacey while she is here?"

Nodding emphatically, Bae spoke. "Sure!"

"Great, go get ready for dinner."

Gathering his backpack, Baden ran upstairs to his bedroom, and she just stood there, looking at the cheerful boy, almost jumping with happiness at a situation she considered a disaster.

"I have to admit, you have the sweetest kid in this universe. I was expecting him to freak out."

"Nah,” Adam grumbled, rising from the floor. “Bae is passive most of the time, and he is just a child who has no idea how messed up this is."

"Mr. Gold, the bedroom is ready," Helga informed him, walking towards them. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going home. See you tomorrow."

"Bye, Mrs. Potts," Gold replied, watching as the nanny disappeared down the hallway before turning back to Lacey. "Care to see your room?"

She nodded, allowing him to rest his hand on her back, leading her upstairs. His touch was warm through the fabric of her dress, the firmness of his fingers against her, making her heart race and her breath get caught in her throat. He was too close, but not as close as she wanted him to be. Of course, by the moment they sealed the deal, she knew that nothing would ever happen between them again, but that didn’t prevent her from still wanting him, because Lacey had never felt so good as she had in his arms.

Upstairs there was a large hallway with five doors, one which was open. Gold took her straight there, turning on the lights to allow her to get a better look inside. Lacey held her breath. It was wonderful. The walls were covered by cream wallpaper, the bed, a queen-sized one had rosy covers and red sheets, a desk was set on one side near the nightstand, and two doors led to a closet and an en-suite bathroom. She could almost imagine were she would place every item she had brought with her, because even though the furniture’s dark wooden shade still didn’t please her, the simple perfection of all the rest eclipsed this small detail.

"It's huge, comfortable,” Lacey commented, walking around, a little stunned. She let herself fall on the bed with a grateful smile. “Thanks."

Gold’s lips were slightly curved in that sad, half-smirk he used at the bar when they'd met, but his eyes were fixated on the floor when he muttered: "Do you mind if I book an ultrasound for you?"

"Not at all," she answered, tracing the patterns on the duvet. "Adam?"

"Yes?"

Lacey took a deep breath, then lifted her chin, recovering her strength. "Are you mad at me?"

"For what?" He questioned with an arched brow.

"Getting pregnant," the brunette shrugged. "Do you hate me for that?"

Lifting his head to look straight at her, Adam appeared to be as broken as he was after being left at the altar by his bride, his greying hair falling beautifully in front of his eyes. In his unique way, he was the most handsome man Lacey had ever met. Screw all the young, good-looking boys she knew, nothing could compare to his beauty and the fact that he was way older than her only excited her more.

"No, of course not, why would I?"

"I know you're mad at me for some reason,” she pointed out. “I can feel it."

"Lacey - " he tried to say, but she stood up, walking slowly to him, while she shook her head.

"It's alright, I'm used to it."

"Papa, I'm hungry!" They heard Baden calling from the end of the corridor.

Gold gesticulated in the direction of the stairs. "Do you like pizza?"

"Who doesn't?"

"Lacey?" She heard a distant voice call, too distant for her sluggish state to pay any attention to it, so she ignored it, but it insisted: "Lacey?"

"Mm?"

"Lacey!" The voice called louder, right in her ear.

A scream escaped her lips, and she sat up quickly on the bed, that she almost made Baden fall to the floor. He gripped the bedcovers to steady himself, staring at the unkempt young woman, untidy in her cotton turquoise pyjamas.

"What the - " she started, before realising that she was speaking with a child and should control her tongue. "Geez, you scared the hell out of me, kid."

"Sorry," Bae mumbled. He was dressed in a black school uniform and seemed way too awake and ready for school. "You said a bad word, Papa says we should never say bad words."

If Baden though that “hell” was a bad word, she couldn’t imagine how he would react if he heard his father speaking all the curses he did while he was with her in the library.

"How hypocritical," she whispered under her breath, throwing the covers back and standing to her feet.

Bae slipped off the bed, following Lacey around the bedroom as she picked some clothes from the drawers, where she had organized them the night prior. "Papa said the breakfast is served and you should hurry, or you'll be late."

"Well, thank you, I'll change," she waved the clothes at him, and the boy shrugged, making his way to the door, but suddenly, he stopped, looking back at her.

"Lacey?"

"What is it?"

"When will I be able to see the baby?" He questioned.

"Not for quite awhile,” she told him, “but maybe we can feel it moving soon."

"Cool."

Rolling her eyes, Lacey mumbled something to herself about not needing an alarm clock anymore, if Bae was to wake her up every single morning this way, and a great part of her suspected that it was Adam who had commanded him to wake her, because someone so sweet, wasn’t able of plotting to annoy her this way by his own will.

Stripping her pyjamas, she pulled on the clothes and shoes she had picked and grabbed her purse, going downstairs to find the house filled with an incredible smell of something baking, which made her heart warm. Lacey hadn’t eaten anything really handmade ever since her mother had died. She and her father constantly bought frozen food, and she only got to eat something really delicious when she stopped by her friend Ruby’s house and stolen a bit of her grandmother’s superb cooking.

Her stomach made a low grumble of desperate need for the food, and she entered the kitchen where Bae was sitting at the breakfast table and Gold was standing in front of the stove, flipping some pancakes.

"Good morning," Adam said, when he heard her pulling up a chair and sitting near his son.

"Morning."

"I hope you like panc..." he started to say, preparing a plate for her and turning around to place it on the table, his gaze fixated on her outfit, and he swallowed hard. "Is that what you wear to work?"

"Most days," Lacey replied with a shrug, picking up the fork and the knife, slicing into a pancake.

"A see through white blouse and a black bra?" Adam inquired, arching a brow.

"Enjoying the view, Mr. Gold?"

"I - I - " he stammered, his face turning bright red, his gaze still locked on her transparent blouse.

"I'm just making fun of you," Lacey guffawed, when he looked away. "You're blushing."

Each one of his features showed how much he was uncomfortable, and she knew if Adam still had the plate in his hands, he would have already dropped it on the floor. They had almost forgot about Baden's presence, but the good thing was that he wasn't paying much attention to their conversation and even if he was, Bae wouldn't have understood a thing they were implicitly saying, however, when his small voice spoke again, both of them looked at him a little startled.

"Papa will you drop me off at school before work?"

"Of course I will," Gold said. "And I'll take Lacey to her work at the library afterwards."

"You work in a library?" Bae asked, interested.

Lacey grinned, glancing at him over her plate of pancakes. "Yep."

"Can you take me there someday?"

"Sure, why not?"

Baden granted her a giant smile as he reached for the honey and spread some over his pancakes. "I like you."

"I like you too, wee one," Lacey answered, and saying those simple words to him was like being drawn to an entire new universe that she was sure she would soon become addicted to, just like a truly exhilarating book.

And if those experiences had taught her anything, it was that it was near impossible to step back when you already had a new passion filling your thoughts all the time. Surely this life, flirting with Gold at the breakfast table and making little Bae giggle seemed to be exactly the kind of one that would be the end of her, because it would make her happy. She was going to be forced to give away her baby and leave, and it would destroy her even more than her mother’s death had.

#rumbelle fic #golden lace #mine #writing #rumplestiltskin #belle french #lacey french #rumbelle #ao3 #ethereal-wishes beta

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