#how to tell your best friend you’re fucking her uncle in ten easy steps
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cepetriwrites · 2 months ago
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Me staring at my computer screen trying to mentally map out a smut scene
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Why did no one tell me smut scenes involve so much thinking???
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clandonnachaidh · 4 years ago
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Light Across The Seas That Sever (Ch4)
AO3
When he woke the next morning in Amsterdam, his feeling of utter contentment quickly gave way to dread as his hand eagerly searched the space in the bed beside him only to find it empty. Immediately, his eyes snapped opened and he looked around the room for her, for his Claire.
His heart sank at the sight.
The twin bed that she had slept in for the night prior to the one they shared was made, her suitcase gone from its spot by the door. He stumbled as he got out of bed, his limbs not quite awake yet as he burst through the bathroom door and he noticed that her things were gone. It was as if she’d never been there.
If not for the taste of her still on his lips, he’d have wondered if he’d dreamt the whole thing.
He spun around the room in a flurry, unsure of what he was looking for or what he planned on doing once he found it.
Then his eyes fell on the slip of paper that sat on the windowsill, the sun casting its rays down on her pen strokes.
I can’t bring myself to wake you. I have to catch my flight. I’ll let you know when I land in Boston.
Jamie’s heart clenched in his chest and he used the palm of his hand to rub at his sternum without thought. He knew that she was gone. He cursed himself for being such a deep sleeper, wished that he’d had the awareness to know that she had been moving around the room silently, packing her things to leave. But in the afterglow of their love making, having released tension and anticipation that had been building inside of him for years, sleep had taken him down and down until he was oblivious to the world. The last thing he remembered was the ghost of her fingertips on his cheekbone and his jaw as he whispered to her once in his mother tongue, the language of his heart that he knew she didn’t understand but hoped that she could feel the meaning of, before falling into a deep sleep.
“Mo ghaol ort, mo Sorcha.”
He had to find her, had to make her understand that he loved her and had loved her since the moment he saw her. Scrambling into the same clothes from the day before, he tore out of the hotel, not caring that they’d charge him for another night when he would inevitably miss check-out. He rushed to the train station and bought a direct ticket to Schiphol, his shaking fingers calling her repeatedly and his heart falling every time it went to her voicemail.
He left his third message, laying his heart out for her to hear, “Claire, please just answer the phone. Talk to me. I winna ask ye to do anything ye dinna want to do but I have to say it, Claire. And I refuse to say it on your bloody voicemail so answer yer phone, tell me where ye are. I’m on my way to the airport. I’m coming to find you.”
Once he arrived, he pushed his way past the crowds of holiday goers, businessmen in their suits and parents trying to corral their children into order. Suddenly thankful for the view that his height gifted him, he searched frantically for any sign of her. He’d found her flight on the departures board and raced to the terminal, praying to God that something had delayed her and she hadn’t had time to make it through security yet. The panic bubbled in his chest as he began to breathe heavily, black dots appearing in his vision. It took everything in him not to simply start shouting her name in the hope that it would bring her to him.
A furious hysteria was beginning to claw its way into his nervous system, controlling the frantic jerks of his long limbs that felt too heavy for him to carry. He dialled her number again and was astonished when she answered.
“Jamie,” she whispered and he felt his heart shatter at the pain in her voice. “Oh, my Jamie.”
“Claire, where are ye? What were ye thinking running off without saying goodbye?” His voice sounded desperate and angry as he spun on the spot, knowing that the compass in his heart that always navigated him to her side would point him in the right direction. Still, his eyes weren’t able to land on her. “Damn it, Claire, tell me where ye are!”
He heard her let out a sob.
“I’m at my gate. You won’t be able to get through.”
Unable to remain upright at her confession, he slumped against the wall beside him and let his head hang, releasing tears that he had been keeping at bay from the moment he had realised that she had left. He cried with her, not caring if people saw.
“Why did ye do this?”
“I couldn’t stand to say goodbye.”
“Claire, I lo-“
“Don’t,” she cried softly, only speaking when he went to say it again. “I’m begging you, don’t say it. If you care for me at all, don’t make this harder.”
He restrained himself from driving his fist into the cement and pushed his forehead against it as his fingers gripped his phone tighter in his hand.
“I canna believe ye weren’t going to say goodbye,” he whispered with a voice full of hurt and not devoid of anger. “Do ye regret it? Last night?”
Her answer came out in a burst, “No. No, I don’t regret it. But you’re my friend. My best friend and with everything changing… I’m going to need my best friend.”
“Yer being selfish, Claire. To give me hope last night and then to pull it out from underneath me, to leave me wi’out breath,” the words were spilling out of him, not caring if he hurt her. She had hurt him well enough.
“Jamie, I thought-“
“No, ye didna think at all. Only of yerself getting to have a wee bit of fun before running off and settling down a whole fuckin’ ocean away.”
With a man who’s not me, he thought.
The line went quiet apart from the gentle sound of her crying and the odd ragged breath that he drew into his lungs to try and settle his racing mind. He screwed his eyes shut and banged his head lightly against the wall.
“Claire, forgive me, I- fuck, I just dinna ken what tae do.”
“They’re calling my gate, I have to go,” she whispered.
“Please, I didna mean it, I was sore and said more than I meant,” he desperately tried to explain himself.
“I’ll let you know when I land. Goodbye Jamie.”
“Claire—”
When she hung up the phone, he sat on the floor and went to pieces. An hour passed before he was able to bring himself together enough to make his way back to the hotel, gather his things and get his own flight back home. With one look at him, standing on the steps of Lallybroch with the spirit of a broken man, Jenny set her mouth in a straight line. In a feat that would’ve astounded Jamie had he the energy to care, she kept her words to herself and brought him a bottle of whisky as he sat in front of the fireplace, somehow managing to keep her children from pestering their uncle. He spent days moping around the estate, barely speaking a word but she made sure that he knew that when he did want to talk, Jenny Murray would be there to listen.
It was two weeks after Claire had left that Jamie heard from her. It was early evening and he had just punished himself with a 10km run around Lallybroch’s grounds, thinking that if his muscles were screaming in pain then he might get some distraction from the dull ache that had set up shop in his chest. The minute he stepped into the hot stream of the shower, his phone pinged with a message. How he would kick himself afterwards that he hadn’t given it a cursory glance because when he exited the bathroom ten minutes later, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him when he saw it.
Sassenach: Message
He opened it greedily, desperate to receive any sort of contact since the painful last phone call that would play on a loop in his mind every night as he lay in bed, sleep evading him.
It was a picture of a bouquet of flowers, a huge arrangement made of foliage and sea holly, thistles and white calla lilies that he knew were her favourite. He’d spent more time than he’d like to admit picking out the perfect flowers for her and knew exactly which bottle of whisky to put in with it (the one that they’d drank together the night that he’d teased her that she had no friends before she replied with a blinding smile and said the words ‘I have you’). She had photographed them prettily displayed on a windowsill that was drenched in sunlight. Underneath she had simply written the words ’Thank you!’ and he realised that he had forgotten that he’d even arranged for the gift to be sent. It was meant be a moving in present, a little reminder of home and the people that she’d left. Now it seemed sad and it made Jamie and his bruised ego feel a bit pathetic.
But it was a start, a small plaster on the gaping hole that was their friendship but one that he was determined to improve on. Anything to keep her in his life, in whatever capacity. He replied to her message with hopes of her having had an easy move, asking whether she was settled in yet. Claire replied almost instantly and so begun the back and forth, both of them trying to be painfully normal as Jamie paced in his bedroom, naked as the day he was born and dripping water all over the floorboards.
When he slipped on a puddle of his own making, he chucked his phone back onto the bed and set to rummaging amongst the old clothing in his drawers in an attempt to find something clean. He really needed to help out around the house more, he thought. Jenny had been rushing around after a husband, two children and now her brother and she deserved better. He had started to deal with the pile of unwashed material that had accumulated on the floor by his bed when he heard his phone ring.
Without even looking, he accepted the call.
“Aye?”
“Hi! It’s Claire!”
As if she needed to tell him that. The minute that he heard her voice he felt like he could breathe that little bit easier for the first time since being in that fucking airport, the gentle lilt of her English accent making him picture the shapes that her lips made. The memory of it stabbed him in the gut and he took a calming breath, turning from his discomfort into the humour that they both teased each other with.
“Sorry whoever ye are, I dinna ken anyone with a Boston accent, ye must hae the wrong number.”
“Asshole,” she snorted. “I sound exactly the same as I always have. It’s… it’s good to hear your voice.”
He smiled into the phone, letting his voice soften and convey the sincerity of his words, “Aye, Sassenach, it’s good to hear yours too.”
An hour or so later, when Jenny Murray went up to her brother’s room to let him know that dinner was on the table, the sound of her brother laughing halted her hand just before she knocked. For the past fortnight, Jamie had been dour, sullen and more prone to tantrums than Wee Jamie and Maggie put together. Getting the two of them fed tonight had been a battle, Ian trying his best to wrangle a teething Maggie as Jenny had an entire bowl of mince and tatties spilled down her front by her son. It had been a tiring night but now, the two wee ones were in bed and her brother was laughing again. Her heart lifted at the thought and she sent a prayer of thanks up to her parents for giving him a bit of a reprieve from his heartbreak.
“Sassenach, ye ken fine well…”
As soon as she heard him say it, she spun herself from Jamie’s door, cursing under her breath about her eejit brother who didn’t know what was good for him and definitely not what was bad for him. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Claire, in fact she had been glad knowing that there was someone to look out for Jamie when he’s was away at university. Jenny always knew that her younger brother was more green behind the ears than he was willing to admit. When he had nonchalantly mentioned that he’d be bringing home a friend for the summer of his first year at university, Jenny had pulled Claire into a hug on the steps of Lallybroch, welcoming her with literal open arms and finding Claire to be a quick witted, intelligent woman but with a softness behind her eyes that Jenny hoped would lend her to being a good friend to her brother. The problem, Jenny quickly realised the first night they’d all sat down to dinner together, was that Jamie had fallen head over heels in love with her.
She tried her hardest to lighten her step as she made her way back into the kitchen, knowing that she would not react kindly to any teasing about her ‘stomping’ around the house. Instead Jenny took out her frustration on the chicken curry that was bubbling on the stove, whirling the wooden spoon around with a little more force than was needed.
“Did I miss saying goodnight tae the bairns?” Jamie’s voice rumbled against the stone walls of the kitchen, pulling her attention away from the storm cloud that was brewing in her stomach as she plated up for herself, his large frame appearing over her shoulder. “Smells fine.”
As the full plate slammed down on the countertop, Jamie frowned in confusion as Jenny turned, her hands set at her hips in a way that still put the fear of God in him.
He took a step backwards (out of her reach if she decided to brandish the spoon at him), his eyebrows raised along with a single hand. Jamie knew from experience that it was better to pip her to the post before she got into the swing of an argument, “Before ye say anything, I want tae apologise first.”
“And just what will ye be apologisin’ for this time, mo bhràthair?”
“For treatin’ this place as a hotel, havin’ ye run after me like I’m one of yer bairns,” he had the foresight to look genuinely penitent and it softened her a bit. “I promise ye I’ll start pullin’ my weight.”
“Well, I canna say that I disagree wi’ ye. And I’ll be thankful of the help, Ian was just sayin’ the west gate needs mending. About time ye bucked up and started helpin’ wi’ the jobs around here,” she said firmly. Jamie’s eyes narrowed in at her face, confused. He’d apologised before she even asked but there was clearly something still there that he hadn’t addressed, that she was expecting him to bring up.
“Is there somethin’ else?” He asked carefully, fighting the urge to pull up the door to the priest hole that he was standing on in an attempt to hide from her wrath.
Instead, she sighed and handed a second plate to him. Her hands went from her hips to the table in front of her as she manoeuvred herself to sit. He followed her lead and sat down across from her, watching closely as she began to eat after expelling another pregnant sigh.
“Will ye give me a hint as to what I’ve done tae piss ye off?” He grumbled as he began to eat himself, trying his hardest not to cower as she sent him a death glare from across the table. Suddenly, the space between her brows furrowed and she let the weight of her head slump into an upturned palm.
“I’m worried about ye, Jamie. I’m always worried about ye but still,” she said in a quiet voice.
“I ken I’ve no’ been out of my room much and I’ve been a right miserable sod. But I’m starting to feel better… I think.”
Jenny narrowed her eyes at him, trying hard not to let the judgement seep in as she quickly placed her hand over the top of his, rolling her eyes when he jumped at the sudden contact.
“I think ye should stay away for a while. She’s in Boston wi’ Frank and havin’ tae adjust to her new life, ye should give her the space to do it.”
Realising that she’d overheard their phone call, Jamie shifted uncomfortably in his seat, fighting the urge to pull his hand from underneath hers as she tightened her grip.
“She was just phonin’ to say thanks for the flowers,” he mumbled, spooning a large helping of his dinner with his free hand into his mouth to try and shut down any need for a further explanation. Sadly, his big sister wasn’t buying it.
“I ken that yer finding it difficult, mo bhràthair, but maybe this is the opportunity tae find someone. Someone who’ll have ye. Ye’ve pined for Claire for so long but she’s never—“
“We slept together. In Amsterdam.”
The words hung in the space between the two siblings, heavy as lead. Jamie had felt the twist of his stomach at saying the words out loud and shot a glance to his sister’s dumbfounded face as the information permeated her thoughts.
“Ye glaikit bastard,” she finally exhaled softly, earning herself a sad smirk from her brother. “Why would ye dae that tae yerself?”
Jamie shrugged his shoulders, “It seemed… it felt like the right thing to do in the moment. And then I woke up the next morning and she was already gone. Chased her to the airport an’ aw but I was too late.”
Jenny huffed again, leaning back in her chair.
“I just thought if I could tell her that I loved her, that I’m in love wi’ her, maybe she’d have stayed. But she didn’t let me say it.”
“Aye, sounds like Claire,” Jenny scoffed, quickly composing herself at the glare she received. “Suppose it makes mare sense for all the mopin’ ye’ve been doing.”
Jamie humphed and rubbed a hand roughly over his face, sinking his fingers through his hair.
“It’s fine, it’s done and I canna change it, wouldn’t change it anyway. It was a very special night for me.”
“I ken but, Jamie, she is gone. She has made her choice. And it’s coorse of her to dangle herself in front of ye when she’s away living her life and yer here, where she left ye.”
His bright blue eyes bore into her, a warning, “Careful, Janet. Claire is my friend and I wilna let her navigate this on her own—“
“She’s nae on her own, she’s wi’ Frank!”
“Aye, she is. And there’s fuck all I can dae about it so this is where I find myself. I wilna let my feelings get the better of me. I will be her friend, as I have been these past years.”
Jenny knew that there was no point in pushing. It was a Fraser family trait, digging your heels in, more often than not to your own detriment. And if there was one topic that Jamie wouldn’t budge on, it was Claire. She got to her feet and grabbed her plate, moving around the table to press a single kiss into the mop of his red hair before leaving the room.
“Ca canny, mo bhràthair.”
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femmeharringrove · 4 years ago
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so niki has two dads. so what?
if you say anything about it, she'll kick you. and if principal kane wants to meet with her fathers, then so be it.
that only happens twice - first with steve, who walks in with sunglasses high on his face, a cup of coffee in hand, and a stance that makes the shorter man in front of him admittedly uncomfortable. niki is almost gleeful as she watches her dad stare blankly at the principal, then tug his glasses down to eye him more critically. not a word is spoken, there isn't a sound outside of the gentle swishing caused by niki's feet kicking back and forth. when the silence is broken, it's by steve, voice bored and uncaring.
"what's the problem, mister kane?" principal kane looks a little intimidated by the man in front of him - as he should be, niki knows.
"uh - well, uh, you see, nikita got in another fight again with a student, and -"
his words come to a halt when steve's hand comes up to stop them, the other hand perched comfortably on his hip. his head turns to face his daughter, and while his face is deadly serious she sees the sparkle in his eye and knows she's in no trouble here.
"nikita," he drawls, "did you get into a fight today?"
"yeah," she replies, without an ounce of remorse.
"do you want to tell me why?" he pushes, and she does, so she tells him.
"joey carter said that nobody wants to be my friend because i have two dads and that's wrong." joey is full of shit, as uncle dustin likes to say. she has plenty of friends, and all her friends love her papa and her dad. because steve always makes them the best snacks and takes them on all sorts of trips and takes the time to get to know the kids. and billy lets them do his makeup and carries them around the house while they squeal in delight. their parents might have been unsure at first, but steve and billy have made friends with most of niki's friends' parents. but the carters are gross people and their son is no exception as far as the eight-year-old is concerned.
"thank you," steve hums, before turning back to principal kane. the hand he'd held up to stop his talking lowers again and he places it on his other hip. "principal kane, where is joey?"
"why, he's in class," the ruddy man replies. steve's eyebrow arches in the way it does when papa says something dumb, or when niki tries hiding something from him.
"and why is that?" he presses. "are we just allowing students to verbally harass other students now?" principal kane gulps.
"well, you know how children are -"
"i do," steve cuts in sharply. "i'm raising one. do you know how long it took me to teach her not to say fuck because it's not a nice word?" nikita stifles a giggle at the offended look that crosses her principal's face. "picked it up from her aunt," steve continues. "kids just soak these things up, you know." steve pauses to sip on his coffee, hand raising to stop the man from speaking, and then he continues. "joey's parents are bigots, i know that very well, and i'm not surprised joey's picked up on it. but if nikita here said fuck in class, you'd reprimand her for foul language, yes?" he peers through his sunglasses while principal kane nods vigorously.
"of course we would." steve nods his approval.
"i take comfort in that." the glasses come off after that, and steve leans forward to meet the shorter man's gaze. "now, if one of your students says hateful comments towards another, would you do the same thing, mister kane?" niki grins at the way her principal shifts uncomfortably.
"I - I suppose, yes," he stammers.
"you suppose," steve repeats, mean and critical. "well, in that case, if you suppose, i suggest you get to calling the carters. nikita and i are going to leave you to it." principal kane tries speaking up, but steve's already got his sunglasses back on and he holds his hand out to the smaller brunette in the room. "let's go, honey. say goodbye to principal kane." nikita hops off the chair and waves a cheery goodbye before happily walking out with her hand in her dad's.
later that night, he's reading her a story and she snuggles against his side, enjoying the gentle brush of his fingers through her curly hair, and she can't help herself.
"hey, dad?" steve stops reading, sets the book down to look down at her.
"yes, baby?" and now nikita huffs, because she doesn't know what she wants to ask. they've talked about this before, both about gender and sex, and sexuality. she knows some people think something's wrong with her dads, but she doesn't hear it often. it shakes her a little when she does.
"why are people so mean?" she settles on. steve's face falters a little.
because there's no easy answer to that, is there? he and billy have been raising her for eight years, they've been together for five of those years and have only been open about it for three. they've been talking about getting married, about having one more kid together, about moving and settling somewhere new, but he knows no matter where they go or what they do there are always going to be instances like this, people like the carters and this kane asshole. and as much as he aches to protect his baby from that, he can't.
so he and billy have taught her the importance of kindness and understanding and respect. and at just eight, she has such an understanding of those concepts. she's absolutely brilliant, and beautiful, and more precious than steve will ever be able to put into words. he studies the face that peers up at him, brushes her bangs from her face, and holds her close so he can rest his chin on her head with a sigh.
"well, kita, sometimes people are scared," he tries. "remember when papa gave you seaweed that one time we went to california?" he doesn't have to be looking to know her entire face scrunches up in disgust.
"yeah, but that was gross," she points out, making the same face steve makes when he eats something he doesn't like, trying to get the taste off her tongue. steve laughs softly.
"to you and me, yeah, but not to papa. he grew up out there so he was already used to it, but for you and me it's scary. green stuff from the sea? icky, right?" nikita nods against his chest. "well, some people haven't seen gay people before, not like papa and i and our kid living like other families. and that's new and scary. and sometimes, when people get scared, they act a certain way." steve tries thinking for another example. "like when papa brought that beetle inside and scared me, remember that?"
nikita will never forget the way her dad scrambled over the couch trying to escape the bug. she'd laughed until the beetle took flight because that really was scary. the pair had screamed around the house and steve had absolutely refused all of billy's apologies the rest of the night, huffing and pouting while nikita giggled at the sight.
"you hit him," she recalls. it hadn't been hard, just a couple of swats on the shoulder while scolding the blonde man. steve nods.
"yeah, which was mean," he agrees. "but sometimes, people get mean when they're scared. obviously, something like having two dads or liking another guy or gal isn't the same as bringing in a beetle, it's much bigger than that. and when people get mean about the bigger things, it's more than just a little hit on the shoulder."
she gets that too, as much as she doesn't like it.
nikita sighs and wraps her little arms tight around steve's waist.
"i don't want people to be mean to you," she decides, and steve knows she loves him, of course he knows, but it warms his heart to hear a reminder of it.
"i know," he sighs. "but we can't make other people be kind. we can only be kind ourselves, yeah?" the girl nods and smiles up at her father.
"you're the most kindest" she announces, and then niki rests her head against his chest again. he doesn't start reading right away, but his voice sounds a little wobbly to her when he does.
the second time principal kane has to meet with one of her dads, it's over a father's day event in class and professor kane specifically requests billy instead of steve. he shows up a little greasy from work, looks from the principal to a mother and her son, to his teary-eyed little girl, and knows there's about to be trouble.
nikita doesn't know if it's hurt tears or angry tears, but misses hartwell's words sting and she can't get them out of her head. her son jeremy's words had hurt even more, and so a now ten-year-old nikita had punched him right in the face.
"something has to be done, mister hargrove," the principal says. amy hartwell scoffs.
"something indeed. we'll be pressing charges, that's what will be done." billy fixes her with a glare.
"you're gonna press charges against a kid?" he questions incredulously. "i know my girl, she doesn't do that unless he messed up big time."
"my son would never do any -" the woman begins, but nikita has no time for this. she doesn't want to sit here and listen to them act like jeremy is innocent.
"he said i can't bring my dad to school because i don't have one!" she snaps, and billy almost snaps too.
"well, it's true!" jeremy shoots back from the safety of his mother's side. "tell her, mom." now amy looks usure, and principal kane shifts uncomfortably as billy's cold glare flashes to the woman.
"yeah, tell her," he repeats, low and threatening. "better yet, tell me." amy shifts her weight and steps back.
"well, everyone in town knows her mother got pregnant in some indianapolis bar," she has the audacity to say. "the girl's never met her real father." nikita opens her mouth ready to protest and hurl insults, but billy speaks first.
"nikita doesn't have a mother," he growls. "her father gave birth to her, and i raised her. we're her dads, and she can have either of us at this little party, got it?"
"it's not healthy to feed her lies like that," amy argues, "you're poisoning her mind, it's dangerous -"
"- no," niki's dad cuts in. "what's dangerous is saying all of that within three feet of me. what's fucking dangerous is teaching your kid how to be as fucking disgusting as you."
"mister hargrove!" principal kane cuts in sharply. "i will not have you threatening misses hartwell like that!" billy turns on the man with an aggression nikita has never seen from her pa, a wild gleam in his glare and his lips set in a snarl. the principal shrinks back.
"what a time to grow a spine," he bites. "you've let her walk all over my boyfriend and i, i'll say whatever the hell i want." principal kane looks a little scared, backs down pretty quickly. but billy is on a roll. "i know how this works. you think steve and i don't know what assholes like you say behind our backs? huh? well, we do. and it's fucking ridiculous. steve has more balls than you-" an accusatory finger gets thrown in principal kane's face - "and more class than anyone in this stupid hick town is capable of. and you know what? i get it, we can't stop you from being ignorant dicks. but what i can do, and what i will do, is step in when someone brings this shit to my little girl. do you get that?" billy's yelling stops and both adults look at him wide-eyed with shock. jeremy looks scared, and niki thinks he should be. with a decisive nod, billy ends the conversation, he scoops niki up after that and she can feel him shaking as she hides in the safety of the crook of his neck. "you wanna sue us? sue us. we'll return the goddamn favor, trust me." and he stomps out to his car and just stands out there for a little while, clinging to nikita until she stops sniffling.
they don't really talk on the way home, and when they both enter the house steve looks a little confused.
"aren't you both supposed to be places?" he asks, but the little tease in his expression fades into worry as he gets a better look at them. billy leans in and kisses niki's forehead chaste and soft.
"go get changed," he mutters, which she knows is actually code for when he doesn't want her listening to their conversation. she obliges and disappears up the stairs she's known her whole life, right up to her room where she gets more comfortable clothes. she hears steve yell, "she what?" at some point, but mostly the pair are quiet. when nikita does tiptoe down the stairs eventually, they're in the kitchen, her papa's face buried against her dad's neck while they whisper to each other. it looks like billy's shaking again, but she can't tell.
steve catches her after a minute and kisses the top of billy's head before calling her over and holding her tight. "i'm sorry you had to deal with that stuff today," he offers, mumbled partially into her her hair. she remembers the things he said about mean people and clutches onto him a little tighter.
that night, aunt max and uncle dustin come by for dinner and take her out for ice cream, and when she comes home steve gives her a bubble bath with extra bubbles. she doesn't love letting him bathe her all the time, but sometimes it's fun, especially when he does extra bubbles. he finishes and dries her off and takes his time with her hair, and before long she's just about ready for bed.
her parents work her through the nightly routine, and they tuck her in to bed together like they do every night one of them isn't working late. but after steve plants his pattern of kisses on her face and leaves, billy stays. he sits on the edge of her bed and looks a little unsure, which is strange because as far as niki knows, he always knows what to do.
"honey," he starts. "you know what they said today isn't true, right?" nikita nods easily.
"yeah. dad's my dad and you're my pops." nikita knows, to some degree, how she came to be. she knows steve didn't have her with billy like that. but never once has she ever had to doubt her family, and no one's dared do it to her face. not before today.
"okay, good." billy nods, reaching a hand out and rubbing her shoulder. "people like misses hartwell and her kid, they don't - they don't get it. and i'm so sorry that you had to hear it, and that you had to hear me yell like that."
"and say all those words dad tells you not to?" she adds quietly. billy breathes out a laugh.
"and hear me say all those words dad tells me not to say," he agrees. it gets a laugh out of nikita, much to billy's relief, and he leans forward to hold her by both her shoulders now. "i'm serious, babycakes. i don't care what people like that say. you're my baby, you hear me? always mine."
"always yours," she echoes, leaning forward and throwing her arms around him in a hug. billy plants as many kisses as he can manage on her head and face, before laying her back down and adjusting her covers.
"i love you, green bean," he tells her, and she murmurs in kind before watching him move to the door. he pauses when he gets there, then turns to her sheepishly.
"hey, about the bad words," he hums. "i won't say anything about it to dad if you won't. deal?" nikita makes a thoughtful face.
"can i have ice cream and a kitten?" he snorts at that.
"you have several kittens, baby. but ice cream is doable."
and when amy hartwell knocks on the door the next afternoon talking about billy's offensive language, he only gets a claim of innocence from his boyfriend and a confused look from his daughter who doesn't recall a single bad word from the meeting. steve looks back at the woman and misses the grin nikita shares with billy as she chomps on a bite of ice cream.
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albertasunrise · 4 years ago
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No More - Chapter 6
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Summary: Frankie has been your best friend since you were in the 2nd grade. You were each other’s first’s, he, your first love and as you’d both gotten older you always somehow fell into bed together after one too many drinks with the boys. You don’t know how much longer you can keep this up but fate has other plans for you both and events are set in motion to decide for you.
Warnings: Angst, Unprotected Sex, Oral (F) 18+
Pairings: Frankie/ Reader
~
‘Fuck off Frankie.’ You spit, anger bubbling under the surface from his confession.
He scoffs at your reaction, grabbing Emma’s bottle and bringing it to her lips as her tiny hands grab at it. He smiles for a moment, admiring how innocent she is and how sin-free she is before he returns his attention to you. The look on your face is one he’s only ever seen a handful of times in the time he's known you. The lasting one being when he told you he was enlisting.
‘What?’ He says finally with a straight face.
‘You’re in love with me?’
‘Yes.’
‘Since when?’ You scoff, rolling your eyes as you start to gather Emma’s things.
‘Since as long as I can remember.’
‘Bullshit!’ You yell, your face red with rage ‘I have been in love with you since we were ten years old. You have never loved me!’
‘I have always loved you.’ He counters ‘I just didn’t realise that’s how I felt.’
‘No, you don’t get to say that to me.’ You’re crying now ‘You don’t get to tell me you're in love with me after all this time.’ You storm out the house to pack Emma’s stuff into the car before coming back inside where Frankie has finished feeding her ‘Give her to me.’
Frankie passes you the baby, his face dropping as he watches you storm out again to put her in the car. He follows you out, tears streaming down his cheeks as he watches you strap her into her car seat.
‘At least let me say goodbye to her.’ He sobs, scooting past you when you nod to get to his baby ‘Goodbye sweetheart. Daddy had so much fun with you.’ He says softly and you can’t help but feel a little guilty ‘I’ll miss you. Te Amo, Hermosa.’ He finishes as he places a soft kiss on her head.
‘I’ll speak to you later about organising when you can have her next.’ You say coldly ‘Clearly you can handle taking care of her by yourself so I don’t see why we can’t work something out.’
He simply nods, watching as you get in the car and pull away. He’d never intended to tell you outright like that. He’d wanted to show you what you meant to him, prove his love to you but he felt that he may be too late. He had no chance of getting you back now. Brad had always had a hold over you that he'd never understood. Even after the two of you had broken up he was able to get you to come running at the clap of his hands and it had driven Frankie mad. He knew that he liked to be in control, to call the shots. He just hoped that he wouldn't be like that with you. You deserved the world.
~
‘So this is the famous Emma.’ Says Brad sweetly as he steps into your lounge, smiling down at the baby who was bouncing away in her walker ‘She’s beautiful, baby.’ He says sweetly as he smiles at you.
‘That she is.’ You reply as you stand next to him, smiling widely as he pulls you into a lingering kiss ‘I have a confession to make.’
‘Oh?’ He asks as he raises an eyebrow at you.
‘I didn’t get a chance to do any food shopping today. I was in back to back meetings all day and was late picking Emma up from her dads.’ You rush as you look at him guiltily ‘I know I promised I’d cook you Thai but we could order it instead?’
‘Sounds perfect.’ He replies as he pulls you into a more heated kiss.
‘Not in front of the baby.’ You wink as you slap his ass and walk over to the drawer where you store the takeaway menus.
The food arrives a little after you put Emma down for the night, baby monitor sat on the coffee table as the two of you eat your food and enjoy each other’s company. You’d been seeing Brad for a little over a month now. Frankie had Emma Two nights a week and you alternated weekends, it was awkward having to see him after your argument but you were civil for Emma's sake. Neither of you had discussed it, you simply handed Emma over to each other like she was a parcel. It hurt, how bad things were between you but you didn't know how to be around him. You didn't know whether to believe what he had told you. Was he in love with you? Were you making a mistake pushing him away?
‘So are we like a couple now?’ Asks Brad, grinning at you as you climb onto his lap.
‘I suppose we are.’ You reply, smiling sweetly as you lower your lips to his.
‘Mmmmm, I was hoping you’d say that.’ He replies, grabbing your hips as you grind against his growing erection.
‘You wanna stay over?’ You ask, trapping your bottom lip between your teeth as his hands slip under your skirt.
‘I’d love you.’ He replies before pulling you into a bruising kiss that goes straight to your core.
You moan against his lips as he slips his hand inside your underwear, groaning at how wet he finds you already before slipping a finger into your heat.
‘Fuck you're good at that.’ You growl, your hips rocking as he slips in another.
You gasp as he makes you cum, your walls clenching around his digits as you kiss him with fervour. Your hands fumble with the button of his jeans, the two of you giggling as you awkward pull them down just enough to free his length, pumping him a few times. You sink down onto him, throwing your head back in a silent scream as he fills you deliciously and you start to rock your hips, his large hands guiding your pace. The two of you know you need to be quiet this time, no screaming each other’s names in a fit of passion for risk of waking Emma. Flipping you onto your back he pounds you with deadly accuracy, quickly pulling your orgasm out of you but you dragged him along with you.
‘God, you're amazing.’ He growls against the shell of your ear, placing open-mouthed kisses just behind it.
‘You’re not too bad yourself.’ You joke, shivering at the pleasure his mouth brings you.
‘I was wondering if perhaps you'd like to come away with me this weekend.’ He asks as he pulls out and lays beside you ‘I know it’s Frank’s weekend with Emma. So I thought perhaps you and I could get a hotel room.’ Kiss ‘Order room service.’ Another kiss ‘And I can fuck you till the entire hotel knows my name.’
‘Well.’ You start as you roll to face him ‘I think that sounds like a great idea.’ You giggle as you kiss him again.
~
You were surprised to find Frankie’s drive adorned another truck when you arrived to drop Emma off for the weekend but you recognised it straight away and smiled. Benny was outside as soon as he heard your car pull up, scooping you up into his arms and spinning you around as you giggle at his attention.
‘Fuck, how are you?’ He asks as he lowers you back to the ground, hot on your heels as you open the door to reveal a sleepy Emma ‘Fuck she’s gotten so big.’
‘Yeah, she’s growing like a weed.’ You chuckle as you let him scoop her up into his arms.
‘Have you missed your Uncle Benny hmmm?’
‘I seriously doubt she remembers you, sweetie.’ You chuckle as you hand him a few bags before grabbing the rest and taking them inside.
Frankie is sat on the couch with Will, sipping a beer as the two men laugh at whatever it is they’re talking about. Emma’s squeals upon seeing her dad has his head whipping around so fast you almost missed it and then he was on his feet.
‘How’s my angel?’ He asks as he takes her in his arms and raises her above his head, giggling as she screams and wriggles in glee.
His expression changes when he looks at you. It’s not sour like it had been the first few times you'd dropped her off. No, now it was one like a boy whose puppy had just been kicked and you have to look away or succumb to his sad smiles.
‘Everything she needs is in there.’ You say as you motion to her bag ‘She’s started eating a little solid food do I’ve put some jars in there along with her milk. I’ll be back on Sunday to grab her but you can reach me on my mobile if you need anything.’
‘You’re going somewhere?’ He asks, stroking Emma’s back with his thumb as she starts to snooze on his shoulder.
‘Yeah.’ You reply plainly ‘Brad and I are staying in a hotel in the city for the weekend.’
‘Oh right.’ He replies, nodding sadly ‘Well have a nice time.’
‘Thanks.’ You reply.
You say farewell to the boys and kiss Emma goodbye, a little shocked at how easy you found leaving her now but you wouldn't dwell on that now. This weekend was about you and Brad. Sweet, sexy, Wonderful Brad.
~
‘Who the fuck is Brad?’ Asks Will as soon as you leave, noting the pain that fills Frankie’s face from his question.
‘He’s uh… He was her boyfriend at school.’ He starts as he sits back down on the couch ‘They bumped into each other a month or so and he leapt at the chance to get her in his bed.’
‘Sound a bit bitter Fish.’
‘Fuck off Ben.’ He scrubs a hand over his face before looking at Emma ‘She seems happy with him so that’s the main thing I suppose.’
‘What happened between the two of you?’ Questions Ben ‘I saw how cold she was with you. What did you say to her?’
‘I told her how I felt.’ He says plainly as he rests his cheek against his daughters head ‘She told me to fuck off.’
~
The hotel is extravagant. The lobby is practically carved from marble, tapestries and paintings adorning the walls, giving the place a medieval-like quality. The room was even more elegant. A four-poster bed sat proudly against the back wall and opposite a door leading to a white marble bathroom that contained a large hot tub bath and a wet-room shower.
‘Well, we are definitely testing out that tub later.’ He says as he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close ‘But right now I wanna christen that bed.’
You don’t get a chance to respond as he's scooping you into his arms and throwing you on the bed. Pushing open your thighs and pulling down your underwear in one swift movement. His mouth is on you in a heartbeat, his tongue working you towards your first peak and you let yourself be vocal. You scream his name as he makes you cum with his tongue before he's stripping off his pants, underwear with it, and plunging himself inside of you. The sex is quick but hot, the two of you writhing in pleasure as you drink each other in. When it's done you kiss each other softly, grinning like to lovesick teenager before he drags you to the bathroom to christen that tub.
~
‘Shit man, what do I do?’ Frankie can’t help but panic as Emma continues to scream ‘She’s burning up.’
‘Have you called her?’ Asks Will and he shakes his head ‘She only left a few hours ago.’ He pauses as he places a soothing kiss on his daughters burning brow ‘She’ll probably think I’m making it up.’
‘I found the thermometer.’ Says Ben as he appears in the kitchen, waving the device above his head ‘What do it do?’
‘Just slot it in her ear.’
Ben does as he’s told, his brows drawing together as it throws back a reading.
‘What does it say?’
‘103.’
‘Website I found here says that you should call a doctor if it's 102 or more when the kids between 3 - 6 months old.’
‘Fuck I don’t know what Doc she's registered at.’
‘You need to call her.’ Says Will and Frankie concedes.
‘Can you hold her?’ He asks Ben as he hands his screaming daughter to his friend.
Grabbing his mobile he brings up your contact details, the phone ringing in his ear as he waits for you to pick up.
Nothing.
He tries again. Stroking his daughter's dark brown curls as he desperately tries to fight back his tears but still, you don’t answer.
‘Fuck.’ He growls as he slams his phone down.
‘We’ll take her to the emergency room.’ States Will, grabbing her day bag and guiding a frantic Francisco and Ben out the door.
~
Ben has taken you to a beautiful five-star restaurant that is a mere five-minute walk from your hotel. You order your drink and then excuse yourself to freshen up, not realising you’ve left your phone on the table.
When Ben sees Frankie’s name flashing on the screen he feels a flash of jealousy wash over him. What the hell did he want? His jealousy increases when he sees his name flash up a second time. Picking up your phone he types in your password and deletes your missed calls. Nothing is going to disturb his evening.
~
‘She’s fine.’ Says Will as he watches his friend coo over his daughter ‘You heard the doc she’ll be fine.’
‘What if she hadn’t been?’ He said, his hands shaking ‘Why didn’t she answer?’
‘She might have her phone on silent.’ He states ‘She may have left it in the hotel room. There’s a multitude of reasons.’
‘She said I could reach her if I needed her.’ He growls, his knuckles white as he grips the cot ‘Why couldn’t I reach her?’
Will didn’t know what to say to him. He agreed in a way, you should have answered, but he also knew that there was more to Frankie’s anger than just you not answering your phone.
~
‘FUCK.’ You scream as Brad rips another earth-shattering orgasm from you.
His pace increases as he chases his own release, growling against the shell of your ear as you bite down on his shoulder, desperate to muffle your screams. He cums hard, collapsing on you bonelessly as he pants, desperate to catch his breath.
‘Wow.’ You chuckle as you kiss him sweetly, resting your forearm over your eyes as you try to calm your frantic heart.
‘Yeah.’ He chuckles.
You lay in each other’s arms a while, revelling in your post-sex high before your mind drifts back to your daughter.
‘I think I should just check in.’ You say suddenly as you reach for your phone.
‘Baby this weekend is about you relaxing.’ He says as he grabs your wrist and pulls you against him ‘He’ll be fine without you. He’ll ring if he needs anything right?’
‘Right.’ You reply as you shake your head ‘Right, you’re right. I’m being silly.’
‘I like it when you’re silly.’ He says sweetly as he pulls you into a bruising kiss, hands roaming over your body as he grabs at you possessively.
~
‘What do you mean she had a fever?’ You growl, desperately trying to keep your voice down ‘Why did no one ring me, Ben?’
‘Fish tried calling you twice last night.’ Replies Ben loudly ‘He was frantic. Didn’t know what to do. Doc said she’s fine but he was so upset babe. You said he could reach you if he needed you. Well, news flash... He needed you.’
‘He didn’t call me!.’ Your voice went a little louder than you had meant it to.
‘I promise you babe he did.’
‘Right well I’m coming home.’ You snap as you run a shaky hand through your hair.
‘No need. She’s fine now.’ He growls ‘Just answer next time.’
The line goes dead and you stare at your call history. You take a screenshot and send it to Ben. Why would Frankie lie to them about calling you? Your phone dings a few moments later and it’s a screenshot of Frankie’s call history and sure enough, there sat two outgoing calls to you. You thought back to last night, where you would have been at that time. You had been in the restaurant with Ben, but it was not long after you’d arrived there that he had called. You’d gone to the bathroom. Did you have your phone? No, you’d left it on the table. Your brain whizzed through a million scenarios before you remember that Brad knows your phone passcode.
He didn’t…
Did he?
~
Chapter 7
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ladyreapermc · 5 years ago
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Fic: Rules of Engagement Chapter 2
Summary: Henry and Em have been friends for almost ten years and involved in a casual affair for just as long. The rules were simple: no romantic attachment and their friends and family couldn’t know. Easy enough to do right? However, when new complications emerge, Henry and Em will need to navigate this relationship of theirs, if they can even call it that.  Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 04  | Chapter 5  | Chapter 06
Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC (Emeline)
Wordcount: 4,5K
Warnings: some fluff and a tiny bit of angst
Author’s notes: I want to thank all the comments I got on the first chapter. I didn’t expect this series to get so much recognition. Thank you! Here’s chapter 02. I do hope you all enjoy it and once again I would love to read your feedback.
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Chapter 02 - What are the odds?
As soon as Henry stepped out the car in front of the church, he couldn’t help but let his gaze wander, looking for Em. It was almost second nature to him by now, whenever he would meet their friends, his eyes instinctively looked for her.
This time they landed on Todd first, standing outside and holding his baby girl Sophie in his arms. Henry could already feel the smile tugging on his lips as he made his way over, adjusting his button-down and blazer in the process. Last time he had seen the girl, she had just been born, only a week before he had to travel and start shooting The Witcher, but Todd and Clara made sure to keep him updated with pictures of his future goddaughter.
“My God, mate! you’re huge!” Todd commented voice full of awe and Henry chuckled, too distracted by the baby in his friend’s arms.
There was a huge pink bow on top of her brown curly hair and her eyes were bright blue and staring at Henry as he made a couple of silly faces until he got a bubbly giggle.
“What are they doing to you?”
“You don’t want to know. Sorry, I’m late. My flight was delayed.”
“You’re not all that late. Em had wardrobe trouble and Clara is giving her a hand,” Todd said, chuckling as Henry offered his hands up to the toddler, and to his surprise, Sophie actually reached for him, asking to be taken and Henry smirked. “She’s 6 months and already under your charms,” Todd clicked his tongue, handing over the girl.
It was no secret that Henry loved children and children loved Henry. Not only that, but he was also actually good with them. Maybe it was all the nephews and nieces, maybe it was just his natural gift, but kids tended to be in his best behavior with him.
Someone’s got a booboo? Call uncle Henry to kiss it better. Crying fit over a stolen toy or a no? Uncle Henry will hold them until they feel better. Don’t want to sleep? Uncle Henry will tell stories and even do all the voices. Sugar high and need to tire them out? Uncle Henry is on the job with a good dose of Kal…
Henry truly didn’t mind being only a call away for his family and friends. Being the last-minute babysitter whenever he was in town and having a chance of spoiling them rotten. He loved being Uncle Henry but he just couldn’t wait for the day he would be the dad.
First, he needed to find a good partner but so far, his relationships had crashed and burned, some more epically than others. And Henry wasn’t getting any younger. He would hate to be one of those fathers that had their first kid in their fifties, but he was slowly approaching his forties and had yet to meet the woman he wanted to have that kind of commitment with.
Shaking himself out of those thoughts that would lead nowhere, Henry followed Todd to a sideway entrance of the church so they could go in without making much of a fuss. It seemed almost fate that just as they stepped inside, a small hidden door opened and both Clara and Em stepped out.
For a second, Henry just stared, because Em looked so beautiful in that form-fitting soft pink dress, her dark hair falling in elegant waves over her shoulders. He didn’t even notice the sigh he let out or the small snort that came from Todd.
Henry wasn’t in the habit of lying to himself, but he made an exception when it came to this because Em might be the only woman he ever really felt like he could have a long-term relationship with. They just clicked in every aspect.
She was funny and goofy, unafraid of giving him hell whenever he was getting a big head. She could be almost brutally honest at times, but Henry had become quite good at calling her out on it with just one look. Em never failed to make him laugh, and he knew that, aside from Clara, he was the only that got her to completely loosen up. And, of course, he couldn’t forget, that the sex was amazing.
Henry was still dreaming about their last encounter last month, the feel of her without any barriers, and how much trust she laid on him to even suggest such a thing. He loved her even more for it and if only she would stop being so stubborn and accept that she loved him too and that they were perfect together, Henry wouldn’t have this problem. Because he knew Em wanted kids too.
They had this conversation one drunken night about a year ago. She had just broken up with her latest boyfriend, for reasons he couldn’t remember, and came over with a bottle of bourbon ready to drown her sorrows.
It was a cool spring night and they lied in his garden watching the night sky and passing the bottle back and forth, complaining about life and love and everything in between. Kal lodged between them, snoring loudly and making them both fall in a fit of giggles every once in a while.
“Ok, confession time…” Em said, turning sideways to look at him. The way she squinted her eyes to see him made Henry laugh. “I miss the kingstache.” She traced the smooth skin of his upper lip and Henry grinned wide.
“You?” he asked in disbelief. “The one that mocked me the most? That called it a porn mustache?”
“Yes, alright?” she pouted at him knocking against Kal, alcohol impairing her coordination. The dog looked up startled and confused before slipping away from between them. “I miss it. It felt good, especially…”
“Especially what?” Henry asked, turning sideways too and now they were so close he could smell the whiskey in her breath; their noses almost bumping against one another.
“The feel of it whenever you were eating me out,” Em confessed, lip tucked between her teeth as they stared at each other. “And only you could rock a mustache like that, ok?”
“I love how honest you get when we put some alcohol in you,” he chuckled, pressing a kiss to her lips.
It was supposed to be just a soft peck but Em fisted his hoodie, holding him still while she explored his mouth in a sloppy kiss and Henry felt his body responding to it. The heat spreading, the stirring in his trousers but he pulled away and gave her a stern look.
“We shouldn’t. we’re drunk and nursing breakups…” he warned but she cut him off with another kiss. This one lasted longer, especially as she pressed her entire body against his, one hand coming to scratch his scalp just like Henry loved it and he moaned into the kiss.
“That’s why it’s perfect,” she mumbled. “We can fuck it out of our systems and move on… I don’t want the next guy to be a rebound.”
“Oh, but I can be? That’s lovely.” He arched an eyebrow, hurt and offended. She sat up and rolled her eyes.
“Like I wasn’t a rebound after most of your girlfriends, Hen? You know what? Forget it. I’m leaving.” Em got up in unsteady feet and Henry was by her side in a flash, helping to keep her upright. She could never hold her liquor all that well.
“You’re too drunk. Just stay here. I can get the guest room ready if you’re that pissed at me.”
“I’m not…” she sighed, resting again his chest, but looking away from him. “I really thought Alex was…”
“Really? I always knew he was a wanker.”
Henry felt the warm huff of her laugh against the exposed skin of his throat before she finally looked up at him, chin resting on his sternum, her big and warm brown eyes glassy, lids lowered, her cheeks flushed from alcohol. It was a beautiful sight and he loved how much shorter Em was; how she fitted in his embrace like she belonged there. Henry pushed the thought aside as he guided her inside and up the stairs.
“He was jealous of you, you know?” she flopped on the bed and let Henry take off her jeans, sweater, and bra. “I think he guessed that we have sex on occasion.”
Henry only hummed in reply, picking up one of his old shirts and helping her to put it on. It fit her almost like a dress, hanging almost at her knees, the neckline loose and slipping over her shoulder. He shouldn’t think it was this cute, but he couldn’t help himself. He bent closer, kissing her softly and Em sighed against his lips.
“I’m gonna grab some aspirin for you, please don’t hurl on my floor.”
She gave him a clumsy punch on the shoulder that Henry barely felt, and he chuckled all the way to the kitchen. He wished he could tell Em that he was glad Alex wasn’t the one and that he would like her to see Henry might be. They’ve been doing this for 8 years now and it was probably the longest relationship he had with anyone. If you could call periodically hooking up with a good friend a relationship.
He got back to the room and Em was already asleep, head buried on his pillow and Henry felt bad for waking her up but if she didn’t take anything right now, it would be worst in the morning. For both of them. He shook her lightly and she blinked blearily at him, but still accepting the pill he put in her hand and the sip of water he offered.
“Thanks, Hen. I love you,” she slurred, and Henry chuckled, setting the glass aside while he took off his clothes.
Em would always blurt that out when she was this drunk and it always warmed his heart, giving him hope until the bright light of the day came and he realized that no matter how many times she would say it, Em would still fight this pull between them.
“You’re welcome, love.”
He crawled in bed with her and Em immediately settled against him, tugging on his arm until Henry was spooning her, holding her tight. She was such a cuddler and he loved it. He loved to fall asleep with his nose buried in her head, inhaling the scent of sugar and spice that clung to her. He loved the feel of her warm skin and the soft snores that she never admitted she let out or the way she clung to his hand until she fell asleep.
It was sweet torture to have her like this, knowing that when morning came, Em would be out the door, both of them going their separate ways. But at least for those blissful hours, in the darkness of the night, Henry could pretend otherwise.  
For a while, there was only silence and Henry thought she had fallen asleep again. He was almost drifting off himself when she spoke again.
“You will be the perfect partner for some lucky lady out there,” she whispered, her voice surprisingly coherent considering how drunk she was. “And a great dad.”
“Thanks, Em,” Henry smiled and kissed her temple.
“I’m terrified of having kids,” Em confessed quietly, turning in his arms so they could look at each other in the darkness. “I mean, I didn’t have the greatest role model for a family.”
Henry pushed some hairs away from her face, looking at the big doe eyes staring at him with a glimmer of wetness. He knew her mom left when she was very young and her dad was… well, interesting.
“Do you want to?” he asked, thumb caressing her jaw. “Have kids, I mean?” she nodded, a flitting smile sneaking into her face.
“Yeah, two,” she said softly. “Because I hated being an only child. Good thing I had Clara. How about you?”
“I always thought at least three,” he replied, smiling too. “I want my house full, just like I had growing up.”
“At least?” she cocked an eyebrow at him, and Henry chuckled and shrugged. “I guess that sounds good too, maybe a little chaotic… I mean, how would that work with you and your wife working full time?”
“I would take some time off, of course…” Henry said, lying on his back, one arm around her, the other bent beneath his head. “I’m doing pretty well financially, and I could afford to spend some time off-screen or maybe take smaller roles, local productions…”
“You really thought this out, huh?” Em asked head tilted his way and Henry nodded. He lost count how many times he envisioned this scenario, the only thing that usually changed was the face he pictured for the woman in his life. “You would turn the guest room into a nursery?”
“At first, yeah, but I definitely would want a bigger place,” he said, drawing patterns on her arm. “A little farther away from the city, with a nice kitchen and a big master bedroom. A garden so Kal can run around and the kids could have a playground, maybe even a treehouse…”
“That sounds nice, I’d like that,” she mumbled, her eyes fluttering close, her breath evening out. With one last smile, Henry kissed her brow and let himself drift off too.
That conversation had stayed with him for way longer than it should. Em didn’t remember any of it of course, but Henry did because it seeded something in his heart that he had to work hard to ignore whenever they were together.
Henry guessed it could be seen as a small blessing that their hookups weren’t happened all that often anymore, even if they were both single. He also couldn’t help but notice that when they did end up together, Em seemed to fight the pull that existed between them until she finally relented and fell in bed with him. It made him wonder what changed. Why she felt like they couldn’t have this anymore.
“Henry! You’re here!” Clara greeted him with a kiss on the cheek before she looked down at her daughter comfortably settled on his arms. “And you already charmed Sophie, I see.” She looked at Todd with a grin. “You owe me a tenner.”
Todd rolled his eyes, taking the girl from Henry so they could walk into the church with their daughter, while Henry and Em took their places at the altar, side by side and he gave her a sideways glance to have a better look at her.
“You look nice.”
“You too,” she smiled at him. Her soft, glossy lips looked so tempting that Henry had to discreetly shift his stance to adjust himself.
“What was wrong with your dress?” His gaze lingered on the generous neckline that gave a very nice view of her cleavage. “Looks really good. Especially your tits. They look bigger somehow.”
“Henry!” Em hissed sharply with a glare, but he could see she was fighting off a smile. “But you might actually be right because I busted a seam under my arm and Clara had to sew it back together.”
Before Henry could comment on anything else, the ceremony started and they returned to their best behavior. Todd and Clara brought Sophie forward, handing the girl to Henry and Em so she could be baptized and they were named her godparents.
It was hardly a surprise for them that the couple had invited them, especially because Henry had Todd as a fifth brother and he knew Em viewed Clara as a sister, but they were both honored by the invitation.
Once the ceremony was over, everyone started to head to Todd and Clara’s place for the celebration. Henry was about to ask Em for a ride since he had taken a taxi but froze when he saw her heading to a car with a guy he didn’t know.
“Hey Todd,” he caught his friend who was on his way to say goodbye to a few guests that wouldn’t be able to make to the party. “Who’s that?”
“That’s Jack,” Todd said, following Henry’s gaze, catching sight of Em chatting with the blonde man. “He’s a friend of Clara’s. He and Em met a couple of months ago.”
“They’re dating?” Henry asked with a frown and uncomfortable burn in his stomach, like acid reflux. He had to swallow hard against the urge to puke.
“I don’t know,” Todd shrugged. “But they seemed to have hit off pretty well.”
As if on cue, Em’s laugh rang loud and bright as Jack held the door open so she could slide inside, and Henry had to clench his jaw to stop himself from cursing. From the look on Todd’s face, his friend noticed.
“Need a ride?” he asked, pulling Henry’s attention back him. “My brother is heading off right now.”
“Yes, thanks.”
Henry tried to push the thoughts of Em and the Jack bloke aside, pay at least a little bit of attention to whatever Todd’s brother was droning on and on, but it seemed to be an impossible task. Fortunately, the younger man didn’t seem to need his interaction to make conversation, so Henry just hummed occasionally, looking out the window. He wondered why Em didn’t mention Jack at all last time they saw each other.
Sure, it was a quick visit, but they did talk a lot before they ended up in bed together. It would have been nice to know in advance that she was dating. Was she dating? Em didn’t strike him as the kind of woman that would hook up with someone else if she was seeing another but maybe that was why she was so reluctant to sleep with him last few times?
Before Henry could reach any conclusion, they arrived and he thanked Todd’s brother for the ride before letting his gaze wander through the small gathering of people, locating Em. She was unsurprisingly surveying the cake and pastries since her bakery provided every single treat offered at this party.
Henry didn’t taste anything yet, but he knew they were delicious. Em had a unique talent for baking and it was no wonder her store was becoming more and more popular. He knew part of it was her perfectionism. Even though her team worked with her for years now and knew exactly how she would plan tables and displays, she still needed to survey everything, making sure it was up to her standards.
He took a step in her direction, but before he could go any further, Clara called his name and caught his arm in a soft but firm grip, giving the guest she was talking to a small smile of apology before tugging him to the side.
“Just the man I wanted to see,” she smiled and for a relatively small woman, she could be very intimidating. It was something to do with her piercing blue eyes that always seemed to see right through him. “Have you met Jack?”
“Not really,” he replied in surprise and confusion. Sometimes it felt like Clara could read his mind or something.
“Let me introduce you to him, then,” Clara said, pulling him along and Henry didn’t have in him to protest. He was after all curious about the man. “And please, be nice and make an effort to like him.”
“What does it matter if I like him or not?”
Clara turned to face Henry, her eyes narrowed as she stared him down, and weirdly enough, Henry felt like shrinking into himself at the weight of her stare. No wonder she was such an amazing prosecutor. That one stare was enough to make him want to confess all his crimes.
“So, you don’t know?”
“Know what?” Henry asked. This was one of the most cryptic conversations he had ever had, and he had to do interviews about DCEU without giving any spoilers. Clara heaved a sigh, crossing her arms over her chest.
“You’re Em’s judge.”
“Sorry, I’m what?”
“Em’s judge. For a man’s character. If you don’t like a man she’s seeing or interested in, she’ll dump their arse like a hot potato. You never noticed?”
“No! Clara, that’s… insane! I have no saying in who Em dates.” Henry huffed an awkward breath as he watched his friend. She could not be serious, but from the way she was looking at him, he knew she met every word.
“We both know you don’t have to say anything.” Clara rolled her eyes at him. “Honestly, I’m surprised that Alex lasted as long as he did considering your face turned sour everything time he was around. It was like you had shit stuck under your nose. But regardless if you believe it or not, could you make an effort with Jack? I really think he could be great for Em.”
“Fine!” Henry sighed just wanting to get out of this conversation. “But not right now. I haven’t eaten in six hours and I’m starting to get dizzy.”
“Thank you!” She flashed him a bright smile. “Head to the kitchen and grab something. Brunch will still be a while.” She came to her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek before walking away before Henry could even process what was happening.
Henry stood there for a few moments like gaping fish, still trying to wrap his head around the entire conversation but giving up because when it came to Clara, she was lightyears ahead of them on some things. He might as well do what he was told and get a snack before he passed out.
To Henry’s surprise, when he got to the kitchen, he found Em at the sink, finishing up a sandwich that she handed him as soon as he stepped closer.
“What’s this?”
“Toasted wheat bread, no crust, turkey slices, and that tasteless cheese you actually like. Honey mustard, but no mayo,” she said, leaning against the counter and giving him a smile when Henry’s stomach rumbled. “I figured you didn’t have time to grab a bite to eat at the airport...”
“I didn’t. Thanks,” he grinned at her, taking a bite and groaning loudly, making Em chuckle.
“Settle down, Cavill. It’s not that good,” she joked, popping a piece of turkey on her mouth, but grimacing. “Urgh, this taste like cardboard.”
“You’re ok?” he frowned at Em.
“Yeah, just feeling a little queasy all morning,” she replied. “But I have to eat something or my blood sugar gonna plummet.”
Abandoning his sandwich for a second, Henry moved closer to her, resting the back of his hand against her forehead and then neck, frowning lightly.
“You are a little hot.”
“Thanks,” she flashed him a cheeky smile that made Henry chuckle.
“You know what I mean.” He cupped her cheek and it was a testament of how bad she much be feeling if Em was actually letting her guard down and allowing this small intimate moment in a place anyone could walk in on them. “You might be coming down with something.”
“Fuck! I hope not. This is one of my busiest months,” she let out a long exhale, and maybe it was just Henry’s wishful thinking, but he thought Em might have stepped closer, almost leaning into him and all he wanted was to take her in his arms and hold her.
“Am I interrupting?” Clara cleared his throat, making them both jump and turn to stare at her guiltily as she looked at them with a knowing smirk.
Henry wondered why she seemed to be everywhere. He knew it was this sort of gift every great hostess had but it could be very annoying when all he wanted was some privacy with Em.
“No,” Em recovered first, stepping away from Henry. “I’m just not feeling well, and Henry was checking up on me.”
Clara just hummed, coming closer and mimicking Henry’s actions, her brow drawing into a frown.
“I don’t think you have a fever, but you’re a little hot. Maybe it’s just that time of the month?” she asked, giving Henry a sideways glance.
“No, I had my period…” Em trailed off with a thoughtful frown as if she couldn’t exactly recall and Clara chuckled.
“You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d joke you’re pregnant,” Clara teased with a smile. “I mean, the bloating and nausea and all that? Anyway, just lie down for a while. You’re probably just overworked.”
Once again, Clara was gone like a quick whirlwind, leaving Henry and Em to stare at each other in shock. He knew his eyes were wide and he was stunned into silence. Em just looked like a deer caught in headlights.
“No!” she snapped once Henry recovered enough to try to say something. “Don’t even think it, Henry. It was once and I have an IUD. It can’t be.”
“You’re right,” he agreed quickly, but his heart was still thundering in his chest, his hands sweaty and he could barely breathe, terror and excitement mingled together in his chest, but he didn’t dare to voice it. Not when Em looked like she was about to throw up.
“Clara’s right. I’m just tired,” she sounded like she was trying to convince herself, not Henry. “I just need a good night of sleep. That’s all. So, we’re not gonna talk about this, because it’s impossible. What are the odds of actually happening?”
Less than 1 percent, Henry found out later, once he was at home and couldn’t sleep, still thinking about the entire thing. He googled it to calm his nerves, surprised by the hint of disappointment he felt at learning it was next to impossible. It wasn’t enough to stop him from thinking and wondering, though.
Enough so that when he heard the sound of his doorbell, Henry nearly jumped out of his skin. It was a noise he practically had forgotten about since Kal would always announce newcomers way before they could ring it. But Kal was back in Budapest. It didn’t make sense to bring him over when Henry would only be staying a day.
Henry glanced at his clock, frowning at the late hour as he made his way downstairs and pulled his door open. Em pushed her way inside, her face tearstained and a mask of fury as she threw something his way. Henry caught by reflex, before staring at her in confusion.
“I hate you, Cavill! I fucking hate you!” she declared, sniffling and hugging herself.
“Em, what…?” he didn’t get to finish his question, because she gestured at the object he was still holding. Henry finally looked down, eyes widening when he realized it was a pregnancy test. One of those pharmacy types and it was positive.
“I did five of them. All positive,” she said, rubbing her face dry and glaring at him. “Damn you and your fucking Superman sperm!”
Henry stared at her wordless, still clinging to the white stick in his hand.
“What are we gonna do?”
He didn’t answer. He didn’t know how.
chapter 01                                     x(tbc)x                                           chapter 03
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babylooneytoonz · 4 years ago
Text
Warnings: Just fluff, and implied confessions, a lot of baby stuff, mighty heroes being softies at heart with a baby on the way
Link to the Masterlist.
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Bucky kept glancing at you, shielded from your direct gaze as you were facing the side. You didn’t know he was standing there by the entrance to the recreation room, watching you from the corner of his eyes, as Wanda leaned over you, giggling to herself, running her palm over your stomach.
“Why’d you hide this from us, Y/N?” Wanda asked you, but you kept mull, because the truth was, you didn’t have the answer to it yourself. It was many things; the fact that you didn’t want to burden Bucky, knowing very well that he wasn’t ready for this, and maybe he never will. You didn’t blame him though, it wasn’t his fault. Maybe in a parallel world, if this was the man that he used to be in 1940s, he would have been happy. Also, you were scared of this; you had lost a child once, and you were scared of losing this one too, and this time, you didn’t want to break down in front of these Mighty Heroes. Then there was the fact that you wanted to hunt them all down, one by one, that HYDRA scum and you had thought you would be able to do it since you were a freaking avenger, but this baby, with the super serum of its father running through its veins, was proving to be more difficult than you had imagined. This child kept you on your toes, and hardly let you get any sleep, it was always kicking around and squirming inside you and you were tired, sleep deprived and so exhausted, you couldn’t even tell them.
Bucky didn’t know what he was feeling; was it anxiety, fear, paranoia or elation? Perhaps it was a mix of it all. He had lost hope of living a normal life; of starting his own family, watching them grow up and have grandchildren one day. Maybe this was the beginning of it. But there was a deep rooted fear inside him. He wasn’t the same man he was; he had been a cold blooded killing machine. A monster. He was scared for the first time ever since Winter Soldier was linked to him. He was scared of the kind of life this child was going to have when they grew up. How safe would they be? And would they hate him for the things he did? Worse of all, will he even be able to be a father? It was a different thing to father a child, but an entirely different thing to be a father to a child. Worst of all, he was scared of the effect his serum would have on that child.
Bucky kept watching, his index finger resting on his chin, his hair messily falling over the side of his face. He noticed how beautiful you looked; how divine, and you were glowing. Your face looked ten shades brighter, although he did notice that for some reason, you looked exhausted, and your eyes looked strained and droopy. Bucky’s eyes trailed over your body, moving along your curves and your tresses until it landed on your stomach. He loved the way you looked, especially right now, and the fact that it was his child in there, it marveled him beyond imagination, and somehow, it pumped blood into his body, his pants already growing tight at your sight.
“You still haven’t spoken to her yet, have you?” His thoughts were broken when Steve stepped next to him, fixing himself where he was standing and the super soldiers stared at the tiny little homely scene in front of them. Who could say that the mighty Avengers could not be softies? Sam was sitting on a stool, painting your toenails, and you were laughing at a joke that Natasha had cracked. If it was any other scenario, Bucky would have wanted to smack Sam Wilson on the back of his head, but watching that soft smile draped over your lips, he didn’t want to.
“Spoken to her about what?” He asked dryly, turning towards his best friend.
Steve almost deadpanned, giving him the look, his eyes narrowed almost in disapproval, “About what this means for the two of you.”
“Punk, I don’t see how this changes anything,” Bucky mumbled, his voice cold.
“This changes everything, Buck. If this was 1940s, you would have been over the moon– "
“that’s the problem, Stevie. This ain’t 1940. And that man died that day when he fell off that fucking train.”
Steve Rogers' eyes looked like they might pop out second, and it was rare when he got angry. However right now , he was fuming. He was tired of Bucky running away from things, things that could give him a normal life. His fists clenched, his hard staring eyes glaring at the other super soldier.
“This is your problem, James. You don’t even want to try. And guess what? It’s not her fault she got dragged into this with you. Now, if you’re not going to be a man, and take responsibility for what you’ve done, then I am.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“We are going to be uncles to that kid, be there for Y/N even if you refuse to.”
“Fuck, Steve. When did I say anything about not being there for her? I brought her here, so she could be cared for.”
“And that exactly is the problem here. Only, you don’t see it,” Steve walked off, before Bucky could even ask him what he was supposed to understand from that little Captain America outburst.
╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡
It wasn’t easy growing a freaking super soldier baby inside you.
You huffed in annoyance, propping yourself up in bed, wiping the mild layer of sweat that had formed on your forehead. You had tolerated brutal punches and kicks to your ribs, and walked off with a smile on your face. You had gotten your nose broken, and you had cackled like a lunatic at the person who had broken it, but for some annoying reason, the way your back was throbbing relentlessly, you were finding it hard to find a comfortable position to sleep in.
So you slid out of bed, wrapping a robe around your swollen body, pushing your glasses over the bridge of your nose. You crept out of your apartment, making sure to close the door as quietly as you could so you didn’t wake up Bucky or Sam, who had apartments on the either side of yours. You tiptoed up to the kitchen, turning on the lights, throwing open the fridge.
You growled in frustration, pulling out items from the fridge and randomly tossing them away, on the slab, trying to look for what you were craving – Pretzels.
Annoyed, you slammed the fridge door shut, ignoring the fact that you weren’t exactly being discreet enough and dragged yourself out into the recreation room. It didn’t look like this little spawn of his father was going to let you sleep much tonight. Like father, like baby. The both of them were messing with you and your mind; the father because he was a dick, and the kid because they weren’t even here yet and they were already keeping you on your toes. You slumped in front of the TV, grabbing the remote when a drowsy figure emerged out of the shadows, her hair standing like mohawk on top of her head.
“I woke you up, didn’t I?” You asked, only to get a groan in form of a reply as Natasha propped herself next to you.
“Not really, I just woke up, thought I’d raid the kitchen but saw that the lights were on. What’s up?” She eyed you.
“Don’t even ask. That bed is uncomfortable, my back hurts like a bitch. I thought I’d satisfy these really annoying Pretzel cravings but we have none. I don’t know why this kid even likes pretzels. His dad likes pancakes and I like tortillas,” you muttered, while aimlessly flipping through the channels.
“Barnes likes pancakes? You seem to know a lot about him, well.”
You shrugged, feeling a sudden heat creep into your cheeks for no reason.
“Its nothing like that, it’s just something I’ve seen him munch on.”
“Whatever, Y/N. He’s your man, I don’t even want to comment on it. Anyway, I’m off. You carry on, I’ll see if I can ask Tony to get you pretzels tomorrow,” she hopped off the couch, stretching her arms once before she started walking away when you called out, “Nat?”
She stopped walking, turned around partly, and glanced at you.
“What was he like when the two of you were, you know – “
“You mean the Red Room.” She froze, and her arms came to cross against her chest. You saw her lips part and she was trying to find the right words, but none came out.
“He was much more colder than he is with you. You are good for him, Y/N. I was just someone that he felt solitude with. Because he was alone. But now he isn’t alone and yet, he looks at you like you’re the only one for him.”
“His words say otherwise though.” You only chuckled, and watched Natasha Romanoff leave, and your attention went back to watching the TV and you couldn’t help but wonder if Bucky still felt the same way about her, given the fact that they had history.
╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡
You slept almost all day the next day, making up for the sleepless night you had, and it was almost midday when you woke up, stretching your arms in the air. When your eyes adjusted to the lights, you noticed a maternity pillow laying on your bed. It was a bright yellow in colour, and it looked comfy as hell. You hurriedly reached out, clutching it in your palm until you had it pulled towards you. You curled up against it, nuzzling your face against its soft fabric and relaxing into the comfort that it gave you. Natasha might be a cold hearted spy for the rest of the world, but she was a softie at heart, and you loved her dearly.
You straightened your loose fitting frock, pulling it down against your thighs as you got off the bed, stroking your bump in a slow, soft motion.
The recreation room was buzzing with energy today, and the minute you stepped in, you were greeted by Natasha, and Bucky, already dressed in their uniforms, speaking to Steve. You squinted your eyes in confusion, watching the two of them, trying to listen to what they were taking about when Bucky turned towards you, meeting your gaze. You didn’t look away, and instead, gave him just the tiniest of the smiles, and much to your amazement, he reciprocated it, although it wasn’t much. You walked up to Sam, grabbing his arm and pulling him up.
“What’s going on?”
“The two of them are going on an undercover mission. Afghanistan.” Sam informed, biting into what looked like a pretzel.
“Okay, is that a fucking pretzel in your mouth?” You reached for his plate that still had one pretzel left, grabbing it before Sam could protest, and flung it into your mouth, munching on it, savoring it against your taste buds. Suddenly, you sat straighter, and again turned towards him, “Are the two of them going on the mission? Alone?”
“Whoa, hey. That’s the freaking Winter Soldier and the Black Widow. They don’t need anyone else if they’re together.”
“Really Sam?”
“Oh, I didn’t mean it that way of course.” He winked, and you turned back to watch Bucky smile slightly at something that Natasha had probably said to him, which was funny. When you looked over at Natasha, you got a jab in the arm from Sam and he chuckled, “Jealousy ain’t pretty,”. He stood up and bending down to grab the empty plate, started walking off. “More pretzels?” He called out; but you weren’t listening anymore. You were walking towards Bucky and Natasha, and you didn’t know why.
“Hey, Nat? You’ve got a minute?” You chimed in, the minute you were close to the two of them.
She stopped speaking to Bucky, and her head, and his too, snapped in your direction, and she nodded, “All cool?”
“Yep.” You grabbed her arm, and pulled her away from Bucky, rather rudely and pulling her aside, you motioned towards Sam, “You got me that pillow and those pretzels, I wanted to thank you. At least there’s someone who understands.”
“Uh, Y/N, what pillow and wait, are there pretzels in the kitchen? Hey, Sam, don’t you finish them all alone – “ She left you standing there, startled, and in a daze as she scampered off, running after Sam, and you didn’t notice Steve watching you with a smile on his face, until he cleared his throat.
“Ah, Cap, I didn’t see you there.” You smiled, awkwardly.
“the lot can be a handful, especially when you get Sam and Natasha and Buck under the same room.”
Again, Natasha and Bucky.
“It was you, wasn’t it? That pillow in my bedroom, the pretzels in the kitchen.” You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to reply, your hands resting on your back.
“I did have a part to play in that, but it was all him. The poor fellow didn’t have any clue so he dragged me through a lot of pillows. Until he settled on the one in your bedroom.”
“Who?” You asked.
Steve just pointed towards the door, and you turned around, noticing Bucky standing by the exit, his foot resting against the wall, as he scrolled through his phone.
“He did this? How?” You swallowed the lump forming in your throat, trying to blink away the tears bubbling in your eyes. Fucking pregnancy hormones.
“Probably heard you and Natasha talk about this. He’s been dragging me out ever since he woke up.”
“Steve, you know what.. I think I need to talk to him.” Steve only smiled, his smile reaching the crook of his twinkling eyes and nodded. You turned your tail, waddling all the way to where Bucky was standing, and when he looked up at who was approaching, he slid his phone away, nodding at you.
“I, uh, Buck, I – Thank you? For the pillow? And the pretzels and –“ You were blabbering, ignoring the smirk that had paved its way to his lips, the smirk that was tugging at your heartstrings.
“Its alright, doll. It’s my fault this happened.”
“Is the mission important? Can’t no one else go ?” you blurted out, and it was too late to take your words back.
Bucky dramatically tilted his head to one side, shuffling the weight of his foot from one side to another as he blinked, “Sort of. Don’t know. Clint can go. Why?”
You averted your gaze, and if it was easier for you to look down at your hands without having your tummy blocking your view , you would have noticed the way your fingers were nervously toying with each other.
“Its nothing. I just, well best of luck.” You gave him a fake, half hearted smile, and started turning away when Bucky reached for your arm, grabbing it, and pulled you to him. Your eyes closed for a split second, and when you opened them again, his face was dangerously close to yours, and your heart was strumming mindlessly against your chest. You didn’t know what to call this feeling; and the nearest that you could name it as were butterflies. Or maybe it was just your baby doing a somersault inside your tummy.
“Is everything alright with you?” He asked you, his palm flying up to your face so that he was cupping your chin, his thumb stroking your cheek.
Your tear betrayed you, and you mentally cursed yourself because James Buchanan Barnes had caught you crying, for your tear had rolled down against his thumb, “you’re worrying me now, doll. Is the baby okay?” His eyes fell to your stomach, and then back on your face.
You nodded, wiping your tear away.
“You’re going on a fucking mission with the Black Widow. And you two would be alone, I– “
You braced yourself for him to snap at you, and find words to insult you. You were so foolish. What the fuck were you thinking that you said that to him? Only he didn’t. Instead, a wide grin formed on his face and he just pulled your cheek. Wait, did he just fucking pull your cheek? You had killed people, point blank, looking them in the eye. And this man right here had just pulled your cheek like you were a fucking two year old. But then again, you should have been angry, yet you weren’t.
“Is that what’s gotten you like this? You think there’s something left between me and Natasha?” He only smiled, shaking his head.
“Natasha is beautiful, she is amazing, but.. “ he took a step away from you when he saw Natasha emerge from inside and tossed a gun in the air that Bucky managed to catch while taking backwards steps away from you, “There’s someone else for me and although she can be a pain in the ass, I can’t stop thinking about her.”
You suppressed your smile. He could tell from your blush that you felt the same way for him, and your actions, your little display of jealousy had just proved it for him. He didn’t want to admit to himself; he found the rosiness in your cheeks cute, and he definitely didn’t want to admit that he was head over heels in love with you, and you coming back into his life had only made the feeling stronger. Although it wasn’t in the most conventional way for the two of you, for people usually fell in love, got married and had babies, for the two of you it had been hate, one time sex, an unplanned pregnancy and now love. He didn’t mind it.
"Do me a favour Barnes," you smirked, as he stepped into the elevator, with Natasha, who was smirking too, her eyes flying from you to him, and then back, "And get your ass back in one piece, yeah?" Before he could reply, the elevator doors closed, but not without you having seen that nod of his head.
Now all he wanted to do was get on that fucking quinjet, get done with the fucking mission, and get back to you.
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cibeewastaken · 5 years ago
Text
Ten Proposals and Nine Drinks
Summary:
Malfoy has been proposing to Harry all night. Harry wants a turn to propose as well. 
(On Ao3)
═══════════════════════
“Here’s an idea,” Malfoy said.
“Uh-oh,” Harry said. “We haven’t even got to the pub yet.”
“Piss off.”
“That’s the plan.”
“Shut up,” Malfoy said. “I’m trying to say something.”
“Aren’t you always?”
“For the love of — My plan involves a lot of free alcohol, what are you offering beside your mouth?”
“My mouth is always opened to you,” Harry said cheerfully.
Malfoy took a deep breath. “My idea is — ”
“That maybe you can’t finish a sentence?”
“Oh, for — ” Malfoy stopped to kick an innocent mailbox. “ —  fuck’s sake!”
Harry couldn’t help but marvel at how much of a brat he became in the five years he’d been together with Malfoy. Though, it was either become a quippy brat himself or get railed on day and night by Slytherins. Honestly, it was just Darwinism at its finest. Harry only did it to survive, no matter what Ron said (“You get the glow every time you snark with Malfoy, really, it’s actually more disturbing. You’re getting the after-sex glow without the sex. What the fuck?”)
Malfoy drew in a deep and slow breath. “You know how they give away free drinks to people on special occasions? Birthday, engagement, their bastard of an uncle died, you know, that sort of thing?”
“You want to pretend it’s one of us’ birthday,” Harry guessed.
“I would, but the whole magical world knows a certain twat’s birthday,” Malfoy pinched Harry’s side and Harry yelped, squirming away and bumping into a few girls.
“Sorry, sorry!” Harry flushed, glaring at Malfoy when he laughed. “So who are you killing off?”
“I was thinking Weasley, but I don’t want you to burst into tears.”
“I wouldn’t!” Harry said. “I can take a joke. You just have a shit sense of humor.”
“I do not!” Malfoy cried.
Harry ignore Malfoy’s protests and ducked into their first destination, which just meant whatever pub they see first. Malfoy was still talking indignantly when he sat down next to Harry. Harry cut him off.
“So, you want to propose,” Harry said. Of-fucking-course. “And I’m guessing you want to do the proposing.”
Malfoy latched onto Harry’s arm and batted his eyelashes. “You know me so well.”
Harry snorted. “Have at it, then.”
═══════════════════════
“Told you it would work,” Malfoy preened beside Harry as they head to the next pub.
Harry raised his eyebrows. “I never said it wouldn’t.”
“I could hear you think it!” Malfoy insisted. “Well, never mind that. Wasn’t I amazing at the end?”
“You certainly were . . . something,” Harry said.
“I admit I hadn’t thought of an exit strategy,” Malfoy skipped on the icy road, making the back of Harry’s neck prickled with anxiety and he untucked his hands from his pocket so it would be easier to grab Malfoy if the prick slipped and fell. “But they all seemed eager to send us off into our bright future together.”
Malfoy’s “exit strategy” mostly consisted of grabbing Harry’s face and snogging him until Harry was weak in the knees, before loudly declaring “I must have you now, my love! My sun! My petit four! (“Petit?” Harry had sputtered and Malfoy shut him up with a hard pinch to the face) I cannot wait to have you until after our joyous union, let’s go now, fiancé!”
They were ushered to the door by a harried bartender and laughing crowd. Malfoy blew a kiss at the pub at large before they stepped out, and his face made Harry wished this was always how every one of Malfoy’s plans went- dramatic and ridiculous with the backdrop of happy grins. Not anything else, never badly. Not for the first time, Harry wondered how his life could have been like if Malfoy had been kinder, and they had ended up friends when they were children.
Harry took Malfoy’s hand in his. It didn’t matter right now, or anymore. They still had a young night, and many pubs, and many more proposals to make and receive.
═══════════════════════
Well, Malfoy certainly had a knack for proposal, unfortunately, he also had a bigger knack at mortifying Harry.
Twice, Harry had to stop Malfoy from describing Harry’s dick with details even himself didn’t know about. Twice, Harry couldn’t even understand what the hell Malfoy was saying because he was so drunk from the previous congratulation-this-is-on-the-house drinks.
(Harry had been ready to call it a night by the fourth pub, but Malfoy, who was so determined to get free drinks, had brewed sobering potions to take with him.
“Drink up, Potter,” Malfoy had said. “I am not a rich man any more, and I insist on milking this dry since I’m sure this is going to blow up in the Prophets tomorrow.”
“You don’t care about ruining my reputation?” Harry had said.
“What reputation?” Malfoy had said, and downed the potion.)
Once, though, Malfoy went from loud and sappy tirade to fervent whispers against Harry’s lips. His hands, cold, clenched Harry’s jacket, and he spoke like he was kissing Harry, swaying them both, with Harry gasping for air.
They had gotten champagne for that one.
By the time they were drinking their third Sobering potion, they had successfully gotten nine drinks from both magical as well as non-magical establishments, and Harry was a little irritated.
“I want to have a go,” Harry said.
Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Please, Potter, you barely got through your speech at the Granger-Weasley cult séance, and you knew most of the people there.”
“Barely being the keyword,” Harry argued. “I want to try. And stop calling their wedding a séance.”
“All weddings look like a séance to me,” Malfoy said loftily. “And do not try to tell me that the abomination Granger and Weasley called a dance wasn’t a ritual to summon the devil or an attempt to murder me through sheer mortification?”
“I’m telling her you said that.”
“What makes you think I care?”
Harry squinted at his boyfriend. “You don’t have the guts.”
Malfoy flushed. “Please don’t tell her.”
“Let me propose next and I won’t.”
“Fine!” Malfoy said. “Good god, cease the histrionics, Potter, it doesn’t become you. But just this once, if I don’t get the attention at the next bar, I shall certainly perish from neglect, and who is going to tell you your hair look atrocious in the morning, hmm?”
“You talk way too much,” Harry said, pushing the door open, and let it slam in Malfoy’s face.
Malfoy caught it smoothly. Damn. “Come now, darling. Betrothed lovers shouldn’t be so testy with each other.”
Harry sighed. “If you’re this annoying before we’re engaged, I can’t imagine how much worse it’ll be after.”
“I have great plans for it,” Malfoy said as they sat down. “I’m waiting, lovely.”
═══════════════════════
Draco looked away, gleefully awaiting the abysmal attempt of Potter’s proposal. He was never good with words, was he? Let him see what happens when he tries to best Draco at his game. They would never get their free drinks with it depending on Potter, but that was quite alright, the privilege of knowing - and saying - he was better at this was worth the lost alcohol.
He waited and waited for the stuttering and ers to come, but instead someone nearby gasped.
Draco turned around to look for Potter sputtering, but instead he found Potter kneeling. Draco stared. Potter smiled.
Harry’s smile settled into his face - it became him - it looked as though he was meant to always be so — smiling.
And yes, somewhere, at the very back of his mind, Draco knew he would be so lucky to have Potter’s smile sunk into him for the rest of his life.
At the very front of his mind, however —
═══════════════════════
Harry smiled at Malfoy. He looked very startled.
“Hi,” Harry said.
Malfoy didn’t say anything. His eyes were wide and bright and lovely.
“Really lovely,” Harry mumbled.
“What?” Malfoy said.
Harry shook his head. “I just — ” he swallowed. Even though Malfoy’s dramatics unexpectedly set this whole night up for Harry, he was still shaky and scared. No matter how comfortably familiar the sight of Malfoy was for Harry, he was still trembling.
“I just love you,” Harry said, going for the one thing he knew he would never be scared of saying. Or would never waver no matter how scared Harry was. But then all of the valleys of words inside of Harry came tumbling out, too - “There’s nothing else, but it’s everything too. I love you, with you, holding you, spending time with you, living with you, being loved by you, everything. It all boils down to loving you, yeah?”
Malfoy looked as scared as Harry felt, so to not drag on, Harry fumbled for his pocket.
Finally, Malfoy started. “Oh,” he said.
“Yeah,” Harry laughed nervously, and it took him two tries to open the velvet box. The ring was pale, with a round moonstone in the middle. Harry remembered the day spend looking for rings, how it was filled with sparkling diamonds and gems, but the grey stones drew Harry in like Malfoy’s eyes always did, and the decision was easy.
Now, with both stone and eyes in the same vicinity, Harry couldn’t help but feel a little sappy at the uncanny resemblance between the two.
“Potter,” Malfoy’s voice was wobbly. “I swear to . . . I swear if this is your idea of getting free drinks, I will maim you.”
Harry laughed. “That was all you, prat. Of course you would mess up my plan, even on this. But then, I want to have you around so you would keep messing up all my carefully thought out plans.”
“Carefully thought out?” Malfoy swiped underneath his nose with his knuckles. The tip of his pointy nose was red. “You must still be drunk.”
“You’re admitting you aren’t as good at potions as you claim you are?”
“Piss off,” Malfoy said.
Sheepishly, Harry said, “I rather not.”
Malfoy’s hand pinched his thigh. His eyes never left Harry. He wasn’t blinking as well. For a moment, Malfoy looked like a statue, like his mind had forgotten it was still in the real world and left altogether.
“Will you, then?” Harry asked, belatedly. “Marry me.”
Malfoy’s laugh sounded manic. “Will I?” he said. “Who is going to tell you your hair looks atrocious in the morning if not me?”
“I don’t know. Hermione does a pretty good job,” Harry said. His knees were starting to hurt, but he didn’t want to get up.
“She does not!” Malfoy yelped. “I am marrying you, Potter, only I can insult your hair.”
“Yes,” Harry said. “Yes.” And he slid the ring onto Malfoy’s violently shaking finger with equally trembling hands.
Beside them, the bartender was frowning. “Excuse me,” he said, “are you still calling the person you proposed to by their last name?”
“Yes,” Harry said. The word felt incredibly gorgeous to say.
“Oh,” the bartender said. “Okay.” He turned around and poured two glasses of white wine. “It’s on the house.”
“That’s lovely of you,” Malfoy said. He had his left hand pressed to his chest. “But why don’t you give it to whoever sits here next?” Malfoy’s eyes sought out Harry’s. His smile made him looked all kinds of shine. “We have a séance to plan.”
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hemmingslftv · 5 years ago
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Hellooo, how are you? Could you write one using the 24 with ash? ^^
“You’d be a great dad” // A.I
Rating: T
Word count: 2.1k (sorry if it’s too long or too short)
Warning: swearing and a Frozen spoiler I guess but that’s it
Requested: based on the prompt 24 “you’d be a great dad”. Requests are open!
Author’s note: Hi! I’m really good lately, thanks for asking! I hope you’re doing well. So this is my first request ever, thank you very much! I don’t think it is my best work but I hope you don’t hate it and I promise I will do better next time. Also, I’m still getting used to writing in English so please if something is wrong feel free to tell me, any kind of feedback is appreciated. I’m sorry about the title but I couldn't think of anything better.
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It was almost 7 PM and you were more than exhausted. It was your sister and his husband’s first wedding anniversary and you had offered to take care of their almost 3 years old daughter, Amanda, so they could spend the night alone. It seemed like an easy task at first. You loved your niece with your whole heart and you thought she liked you too, at least until today.
You had had lunch with your sister and Amanda at your place and then your sister left while Amanda was taking a nap. As soon as she woke up and realized her mum had left, she started to cry. You weren’t expecting her reaction, so you didn’t know what to do at first. You offered her some white chocolate ice cream that you know she loved, but she didn’t want it. You had put on one of her favorite TV shows but she didn’t seem interested at all. “I want my mommy” she yelled over and over again. You tried comforting her with everything you could think of but nothing seemed to work.
Almost an hour later, she fell asleep crying on your couch, You sighed relieved and covered her with a blanket, After taking aspirin to try to soothe your headache, you returned to the living room and decided to build a tent for whenever she woke up. When you were a kid, you and your sister spent hours building tents all over your house and playing hide and seek so you thought that maybe Amanda would enjoy it too.
By the time she woke up, you had everything set. Your mattress was on the floor and a few curtains and bedsheets were hanging from the ceiling. You had also set fairy lights all around the room.
“Y/N?” you heard Amanda’s tiny voice from the couch and approached her as soon as possible so she wouldn’t start crying once again. “Hey, baby, are you hungry?” You asked, having prepared for every possible request she had while she was sleeping. “No” she simply answered before sitting up. You could tell she was amazed by the lights as she was staring at them one by one. You smiled proud at yourself and you sighed hoping the calm would last this time.
“I thought maybe we could watch your favorite movie while laying on the floor if you want to”. Amanda stood up, took the remote from the table, and handed it to you. “Frozen” she said while she made herself comfortable on the mattress. You put on the movie and gave her some water she at first refused to drink but ended up giving in and drinking it. Everything seemed to go by smoothly until the scene where Elsa and Anna’s parents' boat sinks.
You had your eyes locked on Amanda from the beginning of the movie, making sure she was okay and you could see the pout starting to form on her face, You paused the movie and asked her if she was okay. “Is mum gone?” she asked starting to cry once again. You tried to hug her but she didn't let you.
“What? No! Of course not Amanda! She will be back tomorrow morning, your parents are just having dinner out, they’re not dead” you tried to explain, but it was too late, Amanda wasn’t listening. After twenty minutes trying to calm her, you didn’t know what to do anymore and you didn’t want to ruin your sister’s night so you tried calling your best friend but she didn’t pick up. There was only one other person you could think of, Ashton.
You and Ashton had been dating for more than half a year but had only made it official 3 months ago, so everything was still kind of new. That’s why you hadn’t thought of calling him straight away, you didn’t want to bother him and you didn't know if you were ready to introduce him to your family yet although your niece probably didn't count as introducing him to your family. You had met at a music store, you were looking for your first guitar, as you had been wanting to learn for a long time and he offered to help. You two had got along instantly and when he asked you for your number, you gave it to him happily. A few weeks later, he introduced you to the rest of the band and you fit so well in the group you were even surprised.
You sent Ashton a text first, not wanting to disturb him in case he was at the studio since they were working on a new album. After waiting not so patiently for about 4 minutes you decided to call him. He picked up at the third tone, “thanked god” you sighed.
“Hey babe, is everything okay?” he asked.
“No, are you busy?”
“I was just finishing the studio session, what happened? do you want me to come over?”
“Nothing happened, I’m fine. It’s just that Amanda won’t stop crying and I just don’t know what to do anymore” your voice cracked at the end, you were desperate.
“Who is Amanda?” Ashton asked, the confusion clear on his voice. You sobbed softly not being able to repress your frustration anymore. “Okay, you'll tell me later, don't worry. I’ll be there in ten, please don't cry, I love you”
“Thank you, Ash, I love you too” you hung up and went back to try to calm Amanda without success. As soon as you heard the bell you ran to open the door and you hug Ashton, hiding your face on his neck. He was quick to hug you back wrapping his arms around your waist and running his hands through your hair, You relaxed at his touch and after a few seconds, you were ready to speak.
“I’m sorry you had to left the studio early, I didn't know who else to call”
“You don't have to be sorry, you know you can always call me” he leaned in to kiss you and you couldn't help but smile, you felt so lucky to have him by your side. Amanda wasn’t crying anymore and as soon as you realized, you looked for her, afraid something might have happened but she was just sitting on the floor, her eyebrows knitted together while she looked at you.
“Hi Amanda, I’m Ashton” he said coming closer to her. You were prepared for her to start screaming but she didn’t. “Hello” was her only answer. “Ashton is here to play with us” you explained. “Ashton is your boyfriend, right?” Amanda asked with curiosity.
“Yes, he is. But he’s also a great friend of mine who is here to play with us” you repeated, making sure she understood he was a friend so she wouldn’t be afraid of him.
“I know he is in a band, can he play for us?”
“Well, I don’t know if he wants to, he's been working all day”
“I can play for you, could you bring me your guitar, y/n?” he said while sitting on the couch.
“Yeah sure, but you don't have to Ash, you must be tired”
“I know, but I want to”
“Okay” you said while you went to get the guitar. By the time you came back Amanda and Ashton were having a conversation about some TV show you had no idea existed and you smiled relaxing a little bit.
“Sorry to interrupt” you said stepping into the room and giving Ashton your guitar. You sat on the floor next to Amanda and you were able to sit her on your lap and hug her for the first time that day.
“What do you want me to sing?” he asked while tuning your guitar.
“Maybe an old one” you answered hoping he would accept this time, you used to be a fan of the group when they first started and you had been dying to listen to him singing one of his old ballads, but he never wanted to.
“Ugh, fine” he groaned, giving in, and you cheered making Amanda laugh. Her laugh was music to your ears, especially after all the crying and yelling from earlier. Every bit of tension that was still in your body disappeared as you heard Ashton starting to play “Wherever you are”. He played a few more songs and Amanda enjoyed every single one. She even got up to dance to some of them and she begged for one more after every song. After a while, you looked at your phone and realized it was almost 9 PM and Amanda hadn’t had dinner yet.
“Fuck” you muttered feeling guilty. Amanda gasped.
“You said a bad word” she said making Ashton laugh and making you blush.
“Yes, I’m sorry Amy, I won’t do it again. Do you mind staying here with Ashton while I make dinner?”
“I can make dinner babe” Ashton offered while standing up.
“No!” Amanda southed and she held onto his leg so he couldn’t keep walking “you stay, y/n makes dinner” she stated.
“Ouch” you said, kinda hurt by her words, “okay, stay here with uncle Ash, and please behave”
After having dinner, you sat on the couch watching Ashton and Amanda play with her dolls. You couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't had any trouble getting along with her and you had been trying to play with her the whole afternoon and it had been impossible. When you saw Amanda yawn, you decided it was time to go to bed. She asked Ashton to tell her a story and he did while you stood on the door of the room she was sleeping in, your heart melting at the sight of them. She fell asleep before the story ended but Ashton finished it anyway and made sure she was tucked in before placing a kiss on her forehead.
“I’m exhausted” you said once you were both sitting on the couch. You rested your head on Ashton’s shoulder and he put his hand on your waist bringing you closer until you ended up laying on the couch with your head on his lap. You turned to look at him, your back pressed against his leg. He smiled at you.
“You know you can trust me, right?” he asked, pulling a strand of hair out of your face.
“Of course, Ashton. I trust you”
“Okay then, why didn’t you tell me before? I’m not mad babe, just disappointed. I thought we knew everything about each other and it makes me sad that you kept this from me. Did you think I would leave you or look at you differently? You should know I'm not that kind of guy. I love you and support you no matter what” your confusion was growing with every word he said until you realized you hadn't told him who Amanda was. You sat up and turned to face him.
“Oh my god Ashton, did you thought she was my daughter?” Ashton nodded slowly “she’s my niece, oh god, I'm sorry you thought that. I was just taking care of her tonight. But what you said was sweet, I support you and love you too, always”
“That... makes sense. If I’m being honest I was a little bit scared” you started to laugh as you saw him relax.
“I wouldn’t have kept that from you, you know that. Besides, do you picture me as a mother? I mean, haven't you seen I’m a disaster?” he laughed at your words.
“You’re not a disaster, she probably just had a bad day”
“Well, she hasn't cried since you arrived so the problem was me” you sighed, starting to feel frustrated once again. Ashton hugged you, placing you back on your previous position.
“You’d be a great dad” you covered your mouth with your hands as you realized you had said it out loud and you blushed “that sounded a bit weird, I don’t wanna scare you away but you know, if we ever had kids, you would be a great dad, you were awesome with Amanda today” you tried to explain yourself.
“When we have kids, you will be the best mum” he said before leaning in to kiss you “I love you, y/n, you're not gonna scare me because you think I’d be a great dad, I’m planning on spending my whole life with you, and that includes having kids”
“Oh my god, Ash, what did I do to deserve you? You are the best, I love you. Thank you for coming, I don't know what I would do without you”
“I love you too, now let’s go to bed, you could use some sleep”
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winterscaptain · 4 years ago
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how do our favourite ajf couples handle The Talk? and also, how do they start talking about lgbtq+ things? we love communication and education in this house ✨ - 💙
alRIGHT we are going OFF under the cut about good parenting (and also aaron’s the best dad on the planet change my mind)
this is litcherally almost 1.5k words because not only are we inclusive and educational in this house, we are comprehensive and honest with our kids!
they start with consent and boundaries really early. its always “can you ask you sister if its okay to use her tablet” or “honey you're standing a little close to me and i need some space right now. can you step back?” or “i don't really want to do that right now, can we do something else?”
its easier to understand boundaries with the addition of isaac in their home environment. he needs and has very clear boundaries for his siblings and his parents, so its very clear cut from the get-go what is and isn’t okay without permission. mom and aaron are good about knocking on doors and waiting for their kids to invite them into their space, and they’re awesome about privacy and open conversations.
auntie emily has a girlfriend or two and spencer has a boyfriend, a non-binary partner, and a girlfriend over the course of the kids’ lives, which is a really neat segue into the lgbtq+ conversation. very simple - 
“when you’re older, you might start feeling things for people, or you might not. there are different words for people who are attracted to different people, and those are called sexualities. for example, your aunt emily is a lesbian because she likes girls, and your uncle spencer has dated people of different genders, so he’s called bisexual.  
“there are also different words for people who don’t really fit in to the ‘boy’ or ‘girl’ category. some people are a lot of one or the other, some people are a little bit of both, and others aren’t any at all. 
“it’s really important to use these words respectfully, and only use them for someone if you have heard someone use them for themselves. this is a really private thing for most people, so we have to be respectful of people’s boundaries when we talk about the feelings we have for other people.
“if you ever want to talk to mom or me about feelings you’re having, we will be here for you to love you and accept you no matter what.”
(these kids are either gen z or whatever the fuck comes after them, so they’ll probably all be a little queer in one way or another, or at least explored a bit, lets be real)
they are very age-appropriate, as well. so there’s a conversation about how our bodies change when the kids are about nine or ten, and they have a lot of books for the kids to read in private, so they’re not so put on the spot. 
mom and aaron do their best to tag team, but there are some things that are better to hear from your dad than your mom and vice versa. 
this is also around the time the kids get the conversation about what is and isn't appropriate touching, peer pressure, and social norms (”sometimes, people will say that they’ve done something that you hadn’t thought of before or aren’t ready to do, and it might feel like everyone else has done it, too. however, you are you and you are not them. you are the only person who gets to tell you what to do, and never feel like you have to do anything for any reason.”)
jack, of course, is first, and is having these first conversations with aaron right around the time isaac is born.
when he gets further into middle school, he and aaron go for a walk and talk more specifically about consent and new feelings that might come up. idk about yall, but i knew way more than i should have in middle school and the internet has only gotten worse since then, so i’m sure jack has a vague idea of the mechanics. jack and mom also talk about values, like respect and compassion and empathy, and how those values link together with those feelings. 
when they're older (late middle school, early high school), they get the conversation about stds and safety and risks and that stuff. (that’s another easy conversation with real-life examples because isaac, while very wanted, was somewhat unexpected, and so was their cousin henry.) everyone is really clear about all the ways to engage in these activities that won’t get anyone hurt, pregnant, infected, or all of the above. (all of course, with the understanding that “this is for your knowledge, not for you to just know how to go off and sow your wild oats. you’ll have plenty of time for that later, i promise.”)
the segue for isaac’s first on-topic talk comes due to a question about how jack has a different mom than the rest of them. there was a comment at school that made isaac feel a little weird (”well jack’s not your real brother. he doesn't count because he's your half-brother” - that kind of thing) so he asked mom and dad about it. he already knew that jack has a different mom, but he doesn't really know what that means. 
aaron’s like “well, jack is made of different stuff because he didn’t come out of mom.”
“what kind of different stuff?”
(and of course mom thinks its hilarious and later says “you walked right into that one, honey.”)
so because isaac is isaac and loves to learn, aaron goes and grabs one of the books he got for jack, and he and mom walk through all the “stuff” that makes up a person and how it gets there. they’re a little more detailed with him than the other kids, because he really likes to know the science and mechanics of it (”dad, people are kind of like machines!” “yeah, bud, a little bit!”)
hes fascinated, of course, and he’s the easiest of the five. he also does really well with more abstract ideas of consent and boundaries as well. 
when it’s the girls’ turn, they not only get the mechanics conversation (for both sex and owning a uterus) but the safety conversation. because consent was so drilled into all of them, the boys are like “aight got it, don’t be an asshole and always ask about everything all the time. cool.” but the girls are dealing with some different stuff on multiple fronts. 
mom tells them about periods before they get them, so they’re not thinking they’re dying when their first period arrives. they actually help their friends a lot when they freak out, which is super sweet. 
aaron reiterates this one to every kid, every time: 
“there will be times where people, usually men, do not listen to you and do not respect your boundaries. i am giving you my permission to do whatever you have to do to get out of that situation. you can lie to that person, you can trick that person, and you can hurt that person if that’s the only way to get out of that situation. you can always call us and it doesn’t matter what time it is. we will never ever be mad at you. we love you unconditionally and we just want you to be safe.” 
“sex, for some people, is about fun and getting some exercise in, or just another way to spend time with people. that’s okay, but just make sure you’re taking care of yourself and being safe. for other people, its a physical way to express your love to someone you really care about.” 
(“oh, so that’s why there’s so many of us.” “soph don’t be rude.” “it’s true isnt it?”)
so its less of like The Talk and more of Yeah, We Can Talk About This Anytime, because mom and aaron do their best to normalize talking about this stuff so the kids won’t be embarrassed to come to them with stuff in the future. 
jack usually goes to mom with more...specific questions. caro ends up going to dad more often than not, and soph and elliot split the parents pretty evenly. isaac usually goes to mom, too. 
aaron’s favorite Jack Asks About Sex moment (relayed to him that night, in bed with mom) is as follows:
mom and jack are out on a walk, and jack’s like, 15ish. he just looks at her and is like “mom. hey, uh. what’s a blowjob?”
she tries not to laugh and succeeds, for the most part. in the spirit of honesty, and with the understanding of “you aren’t to do this until you are comfortable and ready and nobody else can tell you when that is,” she kind of loosely outlines oral sex and how to conduct it safely and responsibly. 
“is it like...good? fun? like ugh, god, how do i put this...do you and dad...do people...nevermind.”
with a laugh - “jack. you really don’t want me to answer that. i will scar you for life if you push.” 
“ugh. yikes. alright.” 
aaron thought it was HYSTERICAL. 
at the end of the day, they just want their kids to feel safe and loved. all five of them know that they were built and made with love, and know (within reason) that their parents love and enjoy each other. 
whew. thanks for coming to my ted talk, and you can thank my parents for some of these gems lmao
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cepetriwrites · 21 days ago
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How to Tell Your Best Friend You’re Fucking Her Uncle Chapter 7
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potatowitch · 4 years ago
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finding out that the star wars sequel series was written on the fly rather than actually planned out makes so much fucking sense but also pisses me off EVEN MORE because i watched the force awakens in 2016 and within a day of leaving the cinema had a fully fleshed out idea in my head of the direction the next two films would take and the plot points they would cover, all brainstormed in the shower. 16 year old me was more capable of writing a cohesive storyline than disney was. so here you are - i rewrote the sequels to be ten times better than what disney actually gave us. enjoy.
- after rey finds luke they train for a bit then he's like "gotta tell u something. u ever heard of mara jade? she's ur mum" "wait weren't u two dating for a bit" "yeah" "does that mean ur...." "...yeah"
- "why did u leave me on jakku?" "i didnt. she did. i only just learned u existed i wouldve come for u" "oh."
- "...can i call u dad or" "i would be honored if u did"
- meanwhile at the resistance base leia realises finn is force sensitive, gives him her old lightsaber she had in the comics
- because come on. rewatch the force awakens and tell me that man aint fuckin feeling the "shitloads of voices cried out in terror and were suddenly silenced" when starkiller goes off
- and he picks up a lightsaber and instinctively knows how to use it?
- also: two main heroes in a star wars film being a queer coded woman and a queer coded black man.
- and the whole "used to be a stormtrooper and defected, becomes a jedi" is a TOTALLY NEW storyline? not some tired old "white boy villain is a dick for three movies then suddenly turns Good TM right at the end" trope
- make rey explicitly asexual. she's beautiful and smart and got abs that make everyone who sees them MELT but she is NOT INTERESTED in anything but JUSTICE and PLATONIC HUGS
- finn and poe are also making out because come on, disney, if u wanted to show you're becoming more progressive having a loving interracial gay romance is the fucking easiest way to do it. BB8 has two dads and they share The Jacket
- turns out finn is a kenobi because u cannot tell me obi wan didnt Fuck. jedi code says "dont form attachments" but watch the clone wars - obi wan plays fast and loose w the jedi code at the best of times. now we got a skywalker and a kenobi working together being best buds again, THE WAY IT SHOULD BE.
- the destruction of starkiller has crippled the first order. don't fucking look at me like "the resistance just won a major, VERY VISIBLE victory but OOO no somehow they're still very low on numbers and infrastructure" NO. the public destruction of starkiller has earned the resistance an influx of allies. the republic has started publicly supporting them. the first order spent years building that thing and now not only is all that time, effort and MONEY gone, they lost a shitload of staff and military personnel when it blew up
- "the first order is rich" is a plot point I DO NOT UNDERSTAND because it directly contradicts what's going on in the expanded universe books. the first order was built from remnants of the empire that had been banished to the outer reaches of the galaxy to live out of broken down, shitty old star destroyers.
- it's the reason hux, who was raised in a decrepit old academy in the ass end of the universe by an abusive father, is SO anti republic. in his head, it's the reason he starved as a child. it's the reason his mother is dead. it's the reason he had to be raised by a father that beat him. his hatred for the republic is PERSONAL
- disney learn how to write a good villain challenge? hux EASILY could have been terrifying AND sympathetic
- hux and kylo now have to deal with how absolutely PISSED snoke is that both of them failed with starkiller. hux gets force choked and threatened. kylo gets snoke very painfully rooting around in his head. it is emphasised that snoke's relationship with these two is downright abusive.
- somewhere in there, they realise that the whole five years they've known each other snoke has been deliberately pitting them against each other and sneakily forcing them to undermine each other's authority
- they realise it was snoke's shitty leadership that lead to the destruction of starkiller. they realise that maybe they'd be better off on their own
- the two of them plot to murder snoke themselves. while this is happening, the resistance is happily building an army, gathering resources, and forming alliances. luke and rey have reunited with the resistance and now rey and finn are both happily training with luke.
- snoke dies. hux decides to take the mantle of emperor. kylo LETS HIM because he realises he doesn't know shit about fuck when it comes to leading anything more than his knights. has a crisis of confidence about how useful he actually is, then hux decides he wants to keep the knights of ren around as his personal "fuck up the resistance" squad.
- the two of them working together turn out to be fucking terrifying, competent villains. the films have short, five to ten minute sections where they explore their VERY SIMILAR traumas to make them sympathetic WITHOUT making them seem like "uwu they're not actually bad people" because THEY'RE STILL AWFUL GENOCIDAL MASS MURDERERS
- on the kylo trauma side: it's made obvious in the books that from about age 6 snoke has been in his head deliberately grooming him away from his family. make that obvious in the films. make its impact on kylo obvious in how unsure of himself he actually is. don't make his "redemption arc" one where he suddenly goes light side. give him a bastardisation arc where he realises his whole life he has never made a choice - and then make THE FIRST ORDER his choice. (it is the wrong choice! emphasise that! but make him MAKE THAT CHOICE)
- the resistance thinks they're doing well. they have two new jedi. they've seen very little of the first order outside of small operations that they've been squashing. they think "hm. starkiller's loss must have crippled them. we're doing well!"
- until they learn actually. they've got an emperor now. and the commander of the knights of ren is INCREDIBLY loyal to him. the first order is PISSED OFF and VENGEFUL. they're back with a force. they've started invading and subjugating planets even with their forces cut as thin as they are because hux is a military mastermind and kylo and the knights of ren are a fucking TERRIFYING unit in combat.
- also why did disney decide to present hux in the films as a weak pissbaby when he probably topped his class in all combat situations and fights dirty in close quarters. man can SNIPE. man will bite your fucking finger off if you manage to disarm him. he is a 6 foot beanpole and he will kick your ass
- kylo has a crisis about actually having to kill his mother, uncle and cousin. he still feels a bit bad about han - despite everything, he still loves them and is struggling. he actually confides in his knights about this. we get to see that the knights of ren have a found family dynamic with their commander and they comfort him.
- kylo realises it will be painful to murder the last of his bio family but it must be done, because he's come around to hux's view that the resistance and the republic are standing in the way of true peace in the galaxy. he actually believes that reinstating an empire is the best thing for the galaxy. this makes him a more effective villain because he actually believes what he's doing is right.
- more stormtroopers defect to the resistance. finn is there to welcome them and help them adjust. there's a couple of lowkey force sensitive troopers in there too. we learn more about how horrible, soul crushing and traumatic stormtrooper training is. this is a good way to keep painting the first order as an organisation that violates human rights and the geneva convention at every turn.
- the first order makes up for this loss of troops in picking up recruits from the planets they've taken over in the outer rim because they've been providing stability. again - it is SO EASY to write the first order as sympathetic villains WHO ARE STILL FASCIST ASSHOLES. this would've been such a good opportunity to show the moral argument between stability vs freedom. show the flaws in the republic because they do exist!! we see that throughout the ENTIRE expanded universe! every iteration of the republic fails in some way!
- the fight against the first order becomes increasingly more difficult, but they're actually on pretty even ground. it doesn't make sense to me that disney decided to go for the route of "the resistance should've been squished easily by the might of the first order but uwu kylo can't make up his mind and thats what saves them!" that is not a compelling storyline! they are relatively evenly matched and the resistance only JUST comes out on top!
- kylo kills luke in actual combat, not just "luke randomly dissolves for ... no good reason?". this hits the resistance HARD. rey and finn have to struggle with their desire for revenge. leia realises her son is beyond help. it nearly breaks her. she has a moment where she feels like she has lost everything. poe has to step in to remind her she still has him. it is revealed that he joined the resistance after the first order killed his family HORRIBLY when he was a teenager and he and leia sort of have a mother/son relationship.
- this is also a good way to juxtapose hux and kylo. they took their trauma and it made them awful. poe takes his trauma and it makes him kind. it makes him want to protect people from what he went through. also gets rid of the "haha we made the latino man have a drug dealer background" bullshit that disney did
- poe also has to comfort his boyfriend and best friend and remind them that they are fighting to make the galaxy a better place, NOT for revenge. then they have a discussion about "yeah, don't make revenge your main priority, but the jedi were a bit wrong in saying that you shouldn't enjoy it anyway. it's going to feel good to fucking murder kylo and that's okay". acknowledgement that the old jedi code was garbage and too restrictive for actual PEOPLE to follow it.
- kylo still can't kill leia or chewie. we get flashbacks of her singing to him, braiding his hair, comforting him after nightmares. we see baby ben riding on chewie's shoulders. seeing the conflict between kylo recognising his family loved him and still choosing to be a villain would have RUINED ME. he tells hux this, expecting hux to shoot him for it. hux understands - he had a mother, once. the republic killed her.
- (they actually didn't. she was an imperial slave and was probably left behind when an imperial settlement was being razed. the only reason hux actually survived was because he was his father's only heir. there's a whole spiel in the books about brendol going "this kid is a piece of shit bastard i dont want him" and imperial officials being like "the empire needs kids. go pick him up")
- hux decides to kill leia instead. he nearly dies doing so because woman is STILL a force to be reckoned with even at this age. remember she is actually trained to use a lightsaber AND guns. the only reason hux doesn't die? kylo steps in at the last minute and kills his own mother. he's made his choice. he mourns, and then he steels. there is nothing left to pull him to the light side anymore.
- anakin has given up trying to bring his grandson to the light from beyond the grave. him and obi wan are focusing their force ghost attention on rey and finn. now luke and leia are both there too. we get the same "all my jedi ancestors are rooting for me" moment that disney gave us, except now it's shared between rey and finn.
- the two of them plus chewie cut through the knights of ren until they get to kylo. he kicks the living shit out of them, but they manage to kill him. rey earns some gnarly, sexy scars. chewie needs a hug and goddamn does he get one.
- poe is the one to kill hux. he's not just doing it for the galaxy, he's doing it for leia. the first order already stole his first family from him. he won't lose his second family to them. bonus points if BB8 joins the fight and like ... tases hux in the leg a few times.
- we get some gratuitous "c3p0 and r2 are sneaking through an imperial base and fucking shit up but like, badly because 3p0 never stops talking" scenes
- you want to bring rose tico into it? she's head of the resistance's infiltration team. she's with the droids taking down shields, stabbing people in the back, freeing prisoners, stealing plans, sowing chaos. she's the one who finally takes down phasma.
- without their emperor and the knights of ren, the new empire crumbles pretty quickly. the resistance has taken HEAVY losses but they have won. we get a very beautiful funeral scene for luke and leia. there's a gorgeous group hug between finn, rey, poe, chewie and bb8. poe and finn smooch against the sunset.
- we see finn and rey going into crystal caves to get kyber crystals. poe, chewie, bb8, r2 and 3P0 wait outside the cave in the falcon for them to be done picking up their crystals, then we see finn and rey inside the falcon building their new lightsabers with guidance from a bunch of force ghosts. we get to see that rey has chosen to decorate the inside of the falcon with a bunch of potted plants so she can be surrounded by greenery at all time. the found family aesthetic is STRONG
- rey builds a saber pike. it comes out golden. finn builds a standard single blade saber that comes out white, like ahsoka's. gold to emphasise protection of the weak and the perfect blend of combat and scholarly pursuits. white to emphasise free will from both the jedi and the sith. it is emphasised that these two will NOT be your traditional jedi.
- we see an epilogue where poe is working to help shift the republic's focus from political squabbling to actually protecting its citizens. he leads reconstruction efforts, helps establish more of a presence in the outer rim, constantly fights for moving resources from protecting the republic's assests to providing food, shelter and safety to its citizens.
- finn is constantly by his side. we see him protecting his new husband, on the front lines destroying remnants of the empire and the first order, and using his combat prowess to absolutely murder slave owners.
- rey has taken to training new force sensitives with chewie by her side, however she recognises the jedi code has been failing force sensistives for millennia, and instead her teachings are more aligned with the grey jedi philosophy. she recognises that people feel anger, hate, grief - and that they are all valid emotions. it's what you choose to do with them that is important.
- she actively encourages personal connection, believing that loving your friends and family is righteous and the true path to the light side. her apprentices all adore her, and she is always there for them - she'll listen to their worries, from something as small as "i am 13 years old and my first crush just rejected me" to "i am a former slave coming to you after the first order murdered my family and tortured me. i am having nightmares and am afraid of the anger i feel".
- she encourages apprentices to stay in contact with their family, and she becomes that family for the ones who have lost theirs.
- you get the feeling that this time, peace in the galaxy is actually going to last. anakin, obi wan, luke and leia look on from the Force in pride at their children and grandchildren. they did good. they can finally rest.
- the sequels have made personal choice a major theme. finn chooses to defect. poe and rey choose to be kind, when they have every reason not to be. hux and kylo make the wrong choices. there's no flip flopping like a dead fish between good and evil until the very last second. the lines between kindness and freedom and hatred and subjugation are clearly drawn again and again.
- i sit in the cinema after the screen goes black and i weep. i am satisfied. this was a fitting end for a franchise i have loved for most of my life.
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younghoax · 4 years ago
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Marc Coney • New York City • 2001
“Everything will be different now. Marc’s gonna take care of us.”
He’s twelve and his mom’s smiling -really, genuinely smiling- as a man -Marc- stands in their doorway with his hands in his pockets and a smile on his face.
The man says, “Hey, Jordan. It’s nice t’meet you, kid.”
He’s got blood drying on his collar and his hair’s a little messy, but Jordan really believes him. Nick’s not been gone for long, but Marc’s taller and stronger and Jord’s got a feeling he’s got something to do with Nick picking up his shit and going for good last week.
“You too,” he smiles back as he watches Marc shut the door behind himself. He asks, “You staying for dinner?”
Marc laughs for some reason, ruffling Jordan’s hair as he passes him to flop down onto the sofa. “I’m staying for a while.”
The following months are awesome. They go to the park and shit, and Jordan has kind of outgrown shit like the park, but it’s just nice to feel so normal. Marc’s got a son; named after him, Jordan guesses, but he goes by his full name, Marco. He tags along sometimes - sleeps over on weekends and although they don’t have a hell of a lot in common (Marco’s got a year or two on him and is kind of a miserable asshole) but Jordan decides he can live with it.
Marc’s got so many friends that he’s lost count; everywhere they go, somebody stops him, and the guy has his own business and always ends up selling something, even when they’re on the move.
***
Thirteen years old and just now really understanding what a drug dealer is. Kind of embarrassing when it finally clicks into place, but at least now he understands where all the money is coming from. Some nights in the week, he hangs out at Marc’s friends’ houses and they all sit around a table and sort through different powders and plants and don’t even try to hide it from him since he admitted that he knows.
... Only problem with those guys watching over him is that, despite working for Marc, they don’t have the same friends as he does. He later discovered that it means they also don’t have the same protection. There’s this one night in September when one of the guys offers to walk him back to his apartment when he gets the okay from Marc.
“I don’t give a shit about school,” Jordan’s telling the guy whose name he thinks is Danny.
He’s one of the only names Jordan can remember, and it’s only because of the distinctness of his bone structure and the slit that he always has in his left brow. He’s younger than a lot of the other guys, but still somewhere in his mid-twenties.
The guy laughs though and, despite being a personal favourite of his, Jordan scowls at him and asks, “what’s so funny?”
He shrugs, says, “you’re just a kid. Marco was the same. You’re too young to decide what to give a shit about. Wait ‘til your-”
But he doesn’t get to finish because there’s a figure that comes out of nowhere, slamming him to the hard ground before a fist is flying into his face. There’s another guy with the first, and he’s got Jordan on the ground before the kid’s even realised Danny is down.
J’s breathing picks up, panting, panicking as this guy looms over him but doesn’t even say a word. He squirms, thinks maybe he’s not strong enough to push him off but he’s small enough to wriggle out. No such luck.
“Yo, hey hey hey,” Danny shouts, then pauses to spit on the ground beside his head, blood and saliva landing on the sidewalk as he tries to wrestle the man off of him. “He’s just a kid, man, c’mon.”
“You Nick’s kid?” The guy’s breath reeks, and Jordan shakes his head hurriedly. The stranger turns to Dan, and the guy that has the man pinned asks, “where the fuck is Nick? He fucking owes me.”
It’s just panic. Dan’s still down, trying to shove the stranger off but barely moving him an inch, and Jordan’s having no more luck. The man only has him by a hand on his shoulder, and it’s too easy and makes too much sense for Jordan to reach into his pocket, press the button--
“FUCK,” the man rolls off him and ends up in a hunched position on the ground. “Fucker stabbed me!”
“What the fuck,” the other says, and he must move as well because then Danny’s pulling Jordan up from the ground and shoving him behind himself. The knife falls from his hand, trembling as his eyes dart between the three men.
“He’s Marc’s kid. Marc Coney. You can’t fucking touch—”
“Shit.” The guy goes white – takes a few steps (limps) back. “Fuck, yeah, alright.”
Jordan doesn’t quite get what that means. He’s busy watching the hand pressed to the one stranger’s thigh turn wet and red as he holds his wound. The other man says, “Our bad man. Our bad.”
“S-sorry,” he blurts, then looks from the blood seeping through the man’s fingers to the knife on the ground, then to Danny and back again. “Sorry, I—“
“Don’t be sorry,” Danny interrupts, then looks the bleeding man dead in the eye and spits on the ground. Jordan’ll never forget that. How something so vulgar and disgusting held so much weight.
Spit at a man and you’re begging him to knock your lights out. If he doesn’t? You’ve already won.
Jordan’s pretty sure they slip away without a fight because they’ve heard Marc’s name, but when they’re a block away, Danny tells him, “you sure fucking scared them away,” then, “’ey, is this your knife,” as he looks at the weapon he’s carried from the scene. He adds, “shit, s’better than mine, keep hold of that,” as he looks down at Jordan with a half-smile, the orange streetlights bouncing off his hollow cheeks and darkening his eyes.
He still looks pretty handsome even with the cut on his mouth. A little menacing maybe, smiling despite the blood between his teeth, but he’s still just about the most powerful image Jordan’s ever seen.
When he takes the knife back, his hands aren’t shaking anymore.
Danny hangs around in their apartment for long enough to give Marc a play-by-play of the night, and the man seems pretty damn impressed by Jordan; doesn’t even seem to care how he got his hands on a knife. His son, on the other hand, sits on the couch looking unimpressed as he tells him, “that’s the stupidest fuckin’ thing I ever heard,” as he scowls between Jordan and Danny. “Who gave the kid a knife?”
Nobody cares.
***
Marc Coney is a big name. Jordan’s mom wasn’t joking a year ago when she said he’d take care of them. Fourteen years old and he can walk home at night alone because anyone that touches a hair in his head is practically sacrificing themselves.
He’s hanging out with this kid from school, Ryan, on the tennis court a few blocks from home. Jordan can’t remember the last time he saw it being used—not that they need to worry about that now, at ten o’clock at night in the winter. They’re both sat with their legs crossed; knees to knees in the centre of the court.
“There was blood on it for ages,” he tells him as he hands the knife over. “They came outa nowhere. I ain’t seen ‘em since.”
Ryan looks taken aback as he turns the knife in his hands, already flipped open. He’d jumped when Jordan pressed the button, but he figured he’d best do it himself to save the risk of his friend losing a finger. “Were you alone?”
“Neh,” Jordan shakes his head as watches the light bounce off the blade, then looks up and spots it reflect into the boy’s eye. Blue. Very very blue. And J’s never really got it, the way people go on about eyes. Never found that shit important. But fuck, are they blue. “Was with… Some guy.”
“So cool,” Ryan mumbles, right before Jordan leans over and presses his lips to his.
He hears the knife fall from the boy’s hand, and for a moment there’s a palm pressed lightly to his chest as Ryan kisses back, but then suddenly it’s shoving him away and Ryan’s looming and there’s fist pummelling into his face.
Then he’s by himself.
***
“What did he look like?” Marc’s asking a million questions before Jordan’s even said hello. “I’ll fucking kill him, I—”
“Calm down,” his mom grits through her teeth from the couch, but she’s sprawled out with her eyes shut so he’s pretty sure she has no idea what’s happening. The boiler’s broke again and she’s wearing her robe beneath the blankets and towels she’s under. She’s shivering like crazy, like she can’t control her body. Shivering so bad that her fingers are all crooked and cramped up--
“Don’t tell me to fucking calm down! This was for me, everyone knows the kid, they know I—”
“It was just some kid from school,” he interrupts him, eyes darting from Marc to his mom. Can’t decide who to give his attention to right now. “Sorry, it’s nothin’, really. Doesn’t matter.”
Marc squints, still gripping Jordan’s chin as he inspects his eye. “Some kid? What’s his name? Last name? Does he—”
“It doesn’t matter, Marc,” he insists, bats his hand away. “It’s nothing to do with you, honest. It’s my problem. I can handle myself. I think mom needs--”
“Why’d he hit you?”
Shit. “I d’know, we… We don’t get along.”
“Fuck that. I wanna know his last name. He got a dad? Brother? Fuckin' uncle? What’s the name Jordan?!”
He shoves past the man, needs to find more towels or a coat or something. He spots his own bedsheets poking out from the other layers draped over her. She can have ‘em. “I don’t know, I don’t know! It doesn’t matter!”
“People don’t get punched for fuckin’ nothing, kid!” He’s not even sure who Marc’s mad at anymore as he grabs his arm and pulls him back before he makes it across the room. When he turns Jordan back around, there’s a vein bulging from his forehead. “I’ve got a reputation, Jordan, tell me the fucki—”
“I kissed him,” he snaps. “I- I kissed him so he punched me. Just some kid.”
The red in Marc’s face doesn’t fade, and the vein in his head doesn’t deflate, but he stops shouting as he seems to take a minute to catch his breath.
“Sorry,” Jordan says. “Wasn’t meant to worry any—"
Marc wears these rings; gold rings, some with jewels and some not. When the back of his hand strikes Jordan’s cheek, all he feels is metal.
His mom is passed out by then, so he takes himself off to his room and climbs into bed, just a bare mattress now. He lays down with his clothes on but doesn’t fucking cry.
***
Things are kind of off after that. Marc doesn’t have a lot of time for Jordan, and he finds himself hanging out with Danny and the others more often. Or, getting babysat by them – but he forgets that that’s what this is, sometimes.
One evening, sat with Danny and Marco in some flat he’s never been to, Marco tells him, “my old man told me about you,” with that same look in his eye he always has; void; unimpressed; probably stoned, now that he thinks about it.
Jordan just shrugs, just says, “okay,” because God knows he ain’t in the mood for Marco’s attitude when he’s still got a scab healing on his cheek from the back of his dad’s hand.
“Says I should keep my distance. Doesn’t like fags, my old man.”
“’Ey, don’t be a dick, Marco,” Danny says, then adds, “s’alright with me,” as he nudges Jordan’s shoulder, who just looks at him confused. “If you’re a fag. I don’t give a shit,” he clarifies. “My girl’s brother’s a fag. He’s a’right.”
“Fuck off, Danny.” Jordan stands. “Both of you,” he adds before he leaves.
He decides he doesn’t need a babysitter anymore.
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Saving People, Hunting Things
After Chuck is finally defeated and all the humans are back where they belong, Sam and Dean go back to the bunker. They just stand there for a while, right next to the door, and look at each other. It’s quiet now that everyone is gone. Cas, Jack, even Michael isn’t around anymore. It’s just the two of them again. Neither of them likes it. Dean is the first one to break the silence. “Come on!” he says, smiling. “I’m gonna make us some food. I’m starving.” Sam slowly follows him to the kitchen. Dean is not fine. They both know it. And they both ignore it. For now.
They have burgers and beer and Dean laughs, a bit too loud and a bit too long, but that’s just what it is. And one day it will stop hurting. He still has Sam left. His baby brother, the person he loves most in this world. And he is free. Free from Chuck and his twisted games, free to do whatever he likes. He needs to remember that when it gets worse. Later, Sam leaves. And it does get worse.
Sam doesn’t like to leave Dean, it’s easy enough to see that, but Dean smiles and tells him to fuck off and check on Eileen because he knows that Sam has been itching to do that pretty much since Jack brought everyone back including her and finally the door closes behind the younger Winchester and Dean is alone.
He walks back to his room, sits down on his bed and just stares at the wall. He doesn’t move for hours. Eventually, the tears start to fall, one after one. And he keeps staring, and for the first time he allows himself to think about Cas again. About what Cas said and about what Dean didn’t say and the things they will never say to each other and it hurts. But it is okay. They decide to go on one last hunt, to celebrate the good old times. It’s just the two of them again and Baby of course.  Dean is driving, they listen to Led Zeppelin and Sam talks about finishing law school. And then he talks about moving in with Eileen. And Dean is happy for him, he really is, but the bunker is going to be even quieter with Sam gone as well. But there’s nowhere Dean wants to go, nothing he wants to do, so he will stay anyway and wait for the day when it gets better.
The job is easy enough. A couple of vamps terrorising a small town just outside of Lawrence. Returning there is bittersweet. Dean would have expected it to be harder. But he has made his peace, and so has Sam.
They follow the vamps to a remote barn. Dean parks the Impala at a close field and they get their blades. They smile at each other as they walk up to the front door. This is how it was always meant to be. Saving people, hunting things, the family business. No god involved.
When they find out, it’s a small pack, Dean is almost disappointed. They have agreed that this is they’re last hunt. And he knows it’s for the best. But a part of him wishes it would go on a little longer. Maybe he just doesn’t want to face the empty that is waiting for him back home and in his head.
They kill the two vampires that are the closest to the door in mere seconds. One sets of through a back door and Sam follows him, leaving Dean with the last two. He grins. He has faced demons and angels and God himself. They don’t stand a chance.
A couple of minutes later his phone rings. He is cleaning his blade while waiting for Sam to return from his little jog, but when he sees his brother’s name on the display, he frowns and picks up. Sam is panting heavily. “Dean! Get out of there. The pack is bigger than we expected.” He gets on his feet. “What?” “They’re driving right up to the barn. It’s like ten of them in that car.” Sam says and Dean can hear that he is running. “I’m getting the Impala but they will reach you first.” Deans smile doesn’t fade. “Don’t hurry on my account.” he says. “It’ll be fun.” Then he hangs up.
A minute later Dean hears a car pulling up. Doors open and close, people get out. Somebody screams. There’s a loud bang. And then quiet. Somebody is walking up to the barn. Dean raises his blade. The doors swing open and Dean gets ready to strike the first vampire to walk in. Except that there is no vampire left. Just an angel with blue eyes and black hair and a smile on his lips. “Hello Dean.” Dean drops his blade. “Cas?”
There is a part of him that doesn’t believe it. Doesn’t dare to. But Lucifer is gone and Chuck is gone and there is no one left to play tricks like that on him anymore. “Are you really here?” he asks. Cas nods. “Jack brought me to heaven first, but then I heard Sam praying and came down.” And Dean rushes over to him and pulls him into a hug. He doesn’t let go, not for a while. When he finally does his eyes are teary. He doesn’t care. “What was Sam praying for?” he asks. “For someone to save your stupid ass from the vampires.”
Dean turns around. Sam is walking up to them. He hugs Cas as well. But not quite as long. “I knew you wouldn’t get out of here.” he scolds Dean after he has stepped back again. Dean shrugs. “What can I say man, I’m not running from fucking vamps.” They share a look, knowing that’s not all. But it doesn't matter any more. Cas is back. And Dean Winchester is saved.
They don’t talk about that one night, not for a very long time. But Cas doesn’t seem to mind. He just keeps being Cas, always smiling when Dean looks at him, always being there for him. Dean expects him to return to heaven again, but when they reach the bunker Cas is still there. He walks in with them, he has dinner with them, they watch a film and when Dean leaves to go to bed Cas is there to say goodnight. And he is there to say good morning the next day. And the following day. And all the days that come afterwards. He is there when Sam moves out, when Dean gets a job as a car engineer, when Charlie comes over, when Sam and Dean have dinner with Jody and Donna. Sometimes Dean wonders if it gets boring for Cas, living with him. After all, he is an angel and Dean nothing more but a human, a mortal. But then he remembers what Cas has told him, before the empty took him. He wants to say it back. Wants to tell Cas that he can have what he wants. But it’s the one thing he can’t get himself to do. Not yet. And he doesn’t need to. Cas already knows.
Sam marries Eileen two years later. Their first kid is on the way. Dean has proposed to name it after him when it is born. For some reason Sam has reclined. He still gets to be the godfather though, so he doesn’t complain too much about it.
Dean and Cas go there together. It’s a nice, small ceremony, no church and just a couple of friends. Family. Dean doesn’t cry. At all. But there was wind, and it blew him right in the face and that’s why they are red afterwards.
People start dancing later and eventually it’s just Dean and Cas who are left at the tables. Dean has a beer. He watches his little brother. Sam is smiling. He looks happy. And for once in their life, it will stay that way.
Than Dean looks over to Cas. The angel is watching Sam as well. Then he realises that Dean is watching him and looks over. Their eyes meet. Suddenly Dean feels like he is sixteen again. He clears his throat. “Uhm, you wanna dance?” he asks. Cas grins. “I thought you’d never ask.” he says. They get up. Dean doesn’t quite know what to do with himself. Cas takes position opposite of him. “I’m afraid you’re gonna have to teach me how to do this.” he says. “I should have done that a long time ago.” Dean says. And then he does teach him. Cas is good at dancing.
It past midnight when Dean proposes to take a walk. Cas agrees instantly. They’re pretty far from the next town and it’s a clear night. The stars are beautiful. They both look up to them while they walk down the path, next to each other, no destination in mind. And without really thinking about it, Dean takes Cas hand. “You can have it, by the way.” he says. He doesn’t quite know why, but it is okay to say it now. This is good. It’s safe. “If you still want it.” Cas knows what he’s talking about right away. He squeezes Dean’s hand. “Always.” he says. And he means it.
Dean dies first, after many years. Sam has become a lawyer, he has two kids, none of them called Dean, but the girl still develops an almost worrying obsession with pie and classic rock and her uncle. She seems to share that with her godfather, Castiel. Both of the kids stay with Dean and Cas sometimes. Dean is the one to teach them how to drive. Neither of them hunt for a day in their life. They still both get pentagram tattoos when they’re older, though. It’s the family symbol, after all.
When Dean reaches heaven Bobby is there, waiting for him. Dean hugs him. Bobby smiles. “I missed you, idjit.” They share a beer. Then Dean goes to visit the others. They all live around and Baby is there waiting for him, taking him to their houses. First, he makes a stop at his parent’s. They have dinner. But eventually Dean moves on. There are so many more he needs to see. Charlie, the one from this world, Jo and Ellen, Rufus, it takes him a while.
When he’s done, he stops at a bridge in the middle of nowhere. It’s beautiful here, he’s just realising that. He knows that Sam is there before he seems him. A smile appears on his face as he turns around to hug his brother. Sam hugs him back, so tight that it almost hurts. It has been longer for him than it has for Dean. Cas and Jack appear at their side. Jack looks older, wiser, but when he hugs them it’s just like it always was. Cas takes Dean’s hand as they all walk to the railing and watch the sun set in the distance.
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bluebirdwrites · 5 years ago
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james potter x reader where james and reader were close friends but he eventually focused all his attention on lily so they drifted? and maybe the reader got seriously hurt or something and he realizes just how much he loves the reader? angst with happy ending if that’s okay!
as easy as breathing; jp
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warnings; swearing and violence, you have been warnED!
author’s note; i hope you like what i’ve written from your request anon, because i really enjoyed writing this hehe! by the way, requests are open! and I am multi fandom too, so check out my blog maybe (; have a nice day!
summary; in which, being friends with james potter is as easy as breathing. but then he ignores everyone and everything in favour of a girl who doesn’t return his affections. and he’s not there when it matters most.
Only eleven and you’re happy. Hogwarts, a happy place. A place of many choices and a place of mystery. Standing on the platform is daunting- you won’t see your parents for months. This will be the longest you will go without your mother’s caring words and your fathers affinity for mischief.
Committing the smell of your mother’s perfume and taking your fathers sweatshirt, you begin to push your luggage toward the train. You briefly thank whoever loads your trunk before letting a large black and white tom cat slither into your arms.
Absentmindedly scratching behind the cats ears, you tentatively begin to check for an empty carriage. Fining one almost instantly, the door is closed behind you with a muffled click. Sighing, you sink into the seats of the carriage cuddling your fathers sweatshirt to your chest and breathe deeply.
Time to be a big kid now. Just like mummy said.
The final whistle for the train blows as you rise towards the window from your seat letting the cat walk in figure eights around your legs. Finding your parents, you wave hanging half out the window until you can no longer see them in the crowd of magical parents also farewelling their children.
Going to your seat again, you run your fingers through your cats fur. The cat— Splodge — lets its hair stand on end as it jumps up and onto your lap. Hissing at a certain part of the room, the cat flicks it’s tail whilst looking at the door.
Not even half a minute later comes a knocking on he door. It is neither timid nor aggressive, only justly confident.
“Come in,” your voice travels through the still currently closed door, voice friendly. Once the door is open, a boy with unruly ink coloured hair prances through the now open door.
Taking a moment to study him, he looks young. All freckles, askew black frames and molten molasses eyes that make his happy smile seem only all the brighter.
Probably a first year. Possibly a new friend?
“James Potter, how do you do? Can I sit in here? You look like a nice person,” he is endearing, especially when he tilts his head as if he is second guessing himself.
“Sure thing Potter, you can call me Anderson until we’re on a nickname basis,” he only laughs. Sweet and childishly gleeful. Already, his presence is as easy as breathing.
And that is that.
Now in fourth year, you can say that it’s been fun— apart from James ignoring you, and everyone else frankly. Choosing to to follow his willy in the direction of Lily Evans. But whatever— Having been friends with Sirius and Remus and Peter as well was everything that you could have hoped for. When the hat had declared ‘Gryffindor’ after a minutes deliberation you had been confused- at first. You now understand as you face down the angry Sytherins you understand your own stubbornness and unwillingness to back down after what they had called you.
Being muggleborn could be challenging with all of the blood purist fanatics running around. At least you weren’t the product of multiple different variations of incest throughout generations only to be born a purblood with an uncle dad.
But still. Being called a mudblood of all things hurt. It ached and stung and left the bitter taste of bile— that kept getting stronger— on the tip of your tongue the longer your were angry.
“Poor Ickle Mudblood. All alone,” the group of snakes slither closer, closing you in on all sides watching as you plant your feet and grit your teeth.
Good Godric, this is pathetic.
They close in around you from all sides muttering spells that send you flying. It hadn’t even been 10 minutes and fighting back was very hard being out numbered and all.
Where were the prefects. Where were the marauders? Where was James?
They wouldn’t come. Not whilst you were in this abandoned corridor. Not whilst it was a Hogsmeade weekend. Not whilst James Potter was obsessing over Lily Evans. Sure- she was lovely. And beautiful and intelligent and just better than you.
The spells kept becoming more painful as the chanting of manky mudblood rebounded off of the walls and into your ears.
You tried to be strong. You tried to fight back and be brave. You tried to stop the tears stinging your eyes and fight back the scream clawing at the back of your throat; but it felt good to release it. To let them make you black, blue and purple all over.
When they’d finally stopped- when you thought that they’d finally stopped, you just couldn’t help it. The words tumbled out and you couldn’t take them back.
“That the best you got you bloody pureblooded pricks?” They all prickle and one of the snakes step forward— Lestrange it looks like— and kick your side.
Something just broke
“Well then,” he breathes pointing his wand at you, skin pulled tight over his skull into a sickeningly mocking grin. “Why don’t I show you exactly what I am capable of then?”
His grin, startlingly white against the shallow grey of his skin, turns into a snarl as he almost seems to seethe the next word. It is so hateful it burns your nerve endings and forces your toes to curl.
“Crucio.” And then everything is red. The curse, the pain and their laughter. It is fired thrice more and held for ten minutes or more before you hear shouting. And then it stops and you feel bodies beside you and more voices shouting counter spells and knock back jinxes.
“Anderson,” It’s Sirius speaking time you now, worried sounding Sirius. “We’re here now. Peter’s gone off t’get Minnie. And then they’ll really get it. S’okay now yeah?”
You can only nod and open your eyes staring into the stormy grey of your friend above. Gently gripping his hand you look and see Remus in front of you acting as a a shield between them and you.
You lick some of the blood off of your lips, “Where’s James, Sirius?” His nostrils flare angrily as if he was angry, and his eyes visibly darkened and he pulled you closer to him.
“Not here apparently,” you can see him getting angrier, and you know what usually comes next. ”Probably with Evans.”
You can feel yourself realising something then, that you’ll never ever measure up to Lily Evans. Squeezing his hand you can only give him a look as if to say later.
Later comes in the form of the infirmary. Of sitting there over the next day and hearing of five Slytherins being expelled and one being sent off to Azkaban after using an unforgivable curse.
Peter, Sirius and Moony all stay with you. Comforting you whilst you cry and holding your hand when you have spasms and phantom pains from the lingering crucio curse.
James doesn’t come until he hears about a Gryffindor being attacked by a group of Slytherins. He doesn’t put two and two together until he walks in the hospital room and seeing his friends in and around a hospital bed.
You are the first to see him and your face contorts into something angry. Peter is the next to notice, and he shields you with a rigid posture before facing James head on with the nastiest glare he’s ever seen.
Moony is next. He is less angry but more disappointed. He barely looks at James before he clenches his fist and holds your hand, seeming to give it a squeeze.
James is blessed with foot and mouth disease and even now he can’t seem to help himself, “Alright Anderson? You look pretty manky over there.”
Your eyes glaze over and you flinch. You curl in on yourself and three lions fold in around you blocking James from your sight and making sure that you’re okay. James doesn’t notice.
Sirius’ reaction is the most explosive. The chair he sat in is now hard against the wall, being forced back on the tile at how quickly he had stood up. His eyes are like a thunderstorm as he walks towards James with purpose. Rarely do they argue but when they do it’s a shit storm to fix.
“Tell me James,” he strides closer so he is directly in James’ personal space, nose to nose and straightening to his full height. “Where the bloody hell have you been whilst our friend needed you? And don’t you dare say what I think you are.”
James clears his throat only beginning to recognise how much shit he’s in, but not really putting a speed bump between his mouth and his brain.
“I was with Evans. I reckon I’m close to breaking though to her mate!” He laughs, only succeeding at making Sirius go red in the cheeks and Moony and Peter shuffling closer to you. “Why? Where were you?”
This time something rare happens and then something rarer. First, Remus let’s loose what sounds like a growl as his expression turns bitter and angry. He looks every bit ready to wage a warpath, but he grips your hand tight knowing that you need him there with you. And then Peter’s on his feet, hands shaking and on a warpath towards James.
Sirius looks like he’s about to do something by how taught the muscles in his shoulders are. But it’s Peter that acts. It’s quietly mischievous Peter Pettigrew that marches towards James Potter and gives him a shiner. Not Sirius Black. Not Remus Lupin. Not even you, It’s Peter Pettigrew to lose himself in his anger and have Sirius grip his shoulder shocked and proud.
“You know what James! You know exactly bloody what we were doing and you think you have the right to ignore us all- for weeks! And then prance in here and ask? Fuck it, you should know why!” All of you are shocked as he appears to calm down and walk to your side with an awkward little smile.
You’re angry. Deservedly so you think, but you also know that whilst that anger feels right now, in the land of tomorrow or next week it will not.
“Can I talk to James alone? If it makes you boys feel better you can wait outside, but I think we both need to talk and then you can all say whatever you want to eachother,” you look them all in the eye making sure that they all take you seriously. “Please.”
Now alone with James you let him walk over until he stops in front of the chair Moony’d occupied not even thirty seconds earlier, tentatively sitting to face you head on. His cheek had already began to swell from Peter’s earlier hit.
“So,” you move your jaw side to side until it clicks with a popping sound. “Whilst i was writhing on the floor because of the Cruciatus Curse, you were chasing Evans around? And cancelling plans constantly to chase after Lily Evans? Don’t I just feel Important Jamsie.”
His face looks constipated as he mulls over your words and your expression. He wants to make it up to you, make things right. He wants to make things better than before, he wants to make himself forget Lily Evans and drown himself in you.
His hand finds yours, tender and strong. “Look, I- I know I’ve been shit these past few months. Chasing after a girl I know that probably won’t ever come round, and I’ve got no excuse. Is there absolutely any way I can make it up to you?”
He’s looking at you, all warm and gooey. He flows over you like the eye of a hurricane, the calm in the middle of a disaster. In an instant he’s pulling you to him and gravitating around you. In an instant his face is the softest you’ve ever seen it, despite the blooming blotch of purple on one side of his face.
It’s a spur of the moment thing for both of you, you say it on accident really. You weren’t thinking outside of now and he wasn’t thinking at all. “Kiss me,” swallowing your nerves isn’t hard this time, after all it is a spur of the moment thing. “Kiss me here because there’s always been more to us then just friends Potter, and I think you know just as well as I do how badly I want you to kiss me.”
And he’s kissing you, fingers in your hair and thumbs on the apples of your cheeks as he crashes over you like an ocean. Your hands are at his bale and his cheek running delicate hands over his skin.
I love you, I love you, I love you. You can’t say that out loud but it is a mantra in your head as he breaths life to you through a kiss. Your foreheads rest together, and you sit with him. Being with him, friend or more is still as easy as breathing. And you hope that you can one day he can know how much you love him, and how you need him more than oxygen.
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three-drink-amy · 5 years ago
Text
All the Shine of a Thousand Spotlights
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masterlist - AO3
Chapter Seven - It’s Bad Luck to Say Good Luck on Opening Night
Next week was previews. Jamie knew how important they were, mainly because Claire never let them forget it. Reviewers and hand-picked guests would come to see the show before it opened. If they got shitty reviews, they wouldn’t be open for long. That was how it worked. Or at least, that was how Claire and John assured them it worked. The members of the cast who’d done this multiple times started to get quieter in the days approaching previews. The set was filled with an eerie silence during breaks between scenes. 
Jamie used that time to make sure his performance was in tip-top shape. It was now up to him to perfect things as best he could. Occasionally, he’d ask Joe for advice, or sometimes Louise. And both of them were very eager to listen and tell him how to do what he wanted to. He used to go to Claire, but then she’d started avoiding him. 
But as previews approached, the other actors sequestered themselves during down time. Jamie wanted someone to talk to. Ideally, he wanted to talk to Claire, but he couldn’t. He spent the few minutes they had during their long-awaited break thinking of her. There wasn’t much more he could tweak on his performance that he hadn’t already tried before. There was no one else to talk to. And so his mind went to Claire. 
It happened pretty much constantly. She was always on his mind, one way or another. It had only grown worse as production carried on. He spent every day with her, in awe of her, wanting to be with her. But they couldn’t. The night they’d spent in her office had been really nice. It had felt so natural to be around her, to talk with her for hours. But since that night, he’d barely spoken to her, outside of her giving directions and him asking questions. 
The night he’d gone to the bar with the cast, he’d been the one to throw out the suggestion of which bar. Someone had said to yell out a bar and he called out the first one that came to mind. Of course it was where he’d met Claire. She was the only thing that was ever on his mind. He’d gone ahead with Laoghaire to grab a table, cursing everyone else for sticking them together on a mission. When he looked up and saw Claire looking back at him, he almost thought he was imagining it. But she held her stare until Laoghaire demanded his attention. He could tell what she thought, that he was there on a date or something with Laoghaire. There would have been no easy explanation of why he ran over to her, desperate to explain what the situation really was. So he’d stayed put. When Laoghaire headed over to her, he made his best effort to show Claire it wasn’t something romantic. He’d wanted her to stay so badly. Watching her walk away with a crushed look on her face had killed him. 
It had also confused him. She’d been the one keeping her distance from him. Granted, once she started, he’d followed suit. He could take a hint. But the look she gave him at the bar, the air between them as he asked her to stay, it seemed like it was something more. He wanted to chase after her, to make her tell him what she was thinking. Instead, he turned when he heard his name being called and sulked over to where the group was starting to form. 
That night, he laid awake in bed, contemplating every step of his relationship to Claire. The night they’d met, it was pure fire, pure passion. It came back to him in flashes, often at the wrong time. The way it felt to brush her knee in the bar, to see her react. The way she whispered in his ear, asking him to take her home. The sounds she’d made as he pressed her to the wall of his stairs. The taste of her. The feel of her. The way she looked with her hair spread out across the pillow as he watched her sleep. Things had obviously taken an awkward turn from auditions. But for a while, he felt like they were maybe at least friends. They’d talk occasionally, but always in a friendly manner. And that night in her office was the most comfortable he’d been since he’d auditioned for the play. 
She’d drawn back though. And now he didn’t know what they were. Perhaps nothing more than an actor and his director. When he was hesitantly accepting the role, that was the relationship he’d wanted for them. After spending weeks with her and getting to know her better, it wasn’t the relationship he wanted for them anymore. He wanted more. She was his boss, though, and he’d respect that, no matter how much it crushed him. Claire Beauchamp was off limits, and he was fairly sure it was his own doing. 
So, now, it was almost previews and his mind was running in a million different circles. He felt like he had whiplash from how fast his mind would snap between thoughts of Claire and trying to focus on his performance. His head fell back against the wall where he sat, looking through the script one more time. Perhaps if he stared at it hard enough, he could unleash the secrets it held. Or maybe he was just losing his mind. 
“Everybody!” Claire yelled from the stage. Without any hesitance, Jamie jumped up and strode quickly back to the stage. 
He knew Laoghaire and Louise had been going over a scene on the stage. He wondered if they’d done something to set Claire off this way. The cast collected on stage, looking nervously toward their director. Jamie spotted John lingering off Stage Right, watching her curiously. 
Claire sighed grandly, looking at everyone in front of her. “People, previews are next week.” Silence followed her statement. She paced in front of them. “It looks good, but it doesn’t look great and that’s what we fucking need.” 
Laoghaire was her first victim. “For the love of God, Laoghaire, you could convey some emotion in your face while you’re performing. It wouldn’t kill you.” 
Louise was next. “Louise, you need to tighten up the second act, particularly scene five. That is the most important scene for you and if you don’t nail it, the rest of the actors are going to fall flat.” 
She turned to the rest of the cast. “And for those of you who are in scenes but don’t speak in that scene, it is alright to react! You don’t have to stand there like a statue until the next time you speak. Humans move, they listen to conversations, their faces display what they’re thinking. You’re allowed to do that as an actor. I genuinely thought a lot of this would be fixed by now — that you’d realize it on your own. I suppose not.” 
A few more scared souls got called out by name. Jamie waited, anxious for when it was his turn. He glanced over at Joe and noticed the amused look on his face. Joe’s eyes caught Jamie’s and he gave him a look that said “I’ve been waiting for this.” Jamie felt his face start to match Joe’s. 
“And Jamie and Joe,” she called, glaring at the two of them. “You may not have been called out by name this time, but you can wipe those smug grins off your faces. The two of you are far from perfect. You’re just not doing anything at present to warrant my wrath.” Jamie felt his face go slack, perhaps a bit of shock replacing the amusement. He nodded slightly in return. 
“People, previews are what determines it all. It makes people buy tickets. And tickets mean money. And money means we run longer. We don’t want to be dead on Opening Night. Pretend you’re professional actors and get your fucking acts together. You’ve all been in a show before right?” No one replied. “Well it’s time to start acting like it. Get back to work. Act II, Scene VI.” 
They all scuttled around and got in places. Jamie sat in the chair across the stage from where Claire stood. He watched her as lighting was setting up the scene. He saw the tension and exhaustion on her face. More than anything, he wanted to wrap her up in his arms and remind her of how great she was, of how the show was going to be fine. He wanted to be able to comfort her. While he couldn’t comfort her with his arms or his words, he could comfort her with his performance. If he nailed it all — every line, cue, or movement — maybe that could make her feel relief.
* * *
Previews had, thankfully, gone rather well. I checked a few reviews online and we’d gotten high praise. John and I had shared a relieved smile the first day we walked into the theater after reviews came out. It was a handful of reviewers, enough to entice people to buy tickets and to encourage other critics to come see the show. John picked the people who were allowed to come to previews and he never failed to pick the right people. This was part of why I continued to work with him. 
We had a few days to tweak what needed it, but then it was Opening Night. I entered the theater, preparing myself for the chaos that always accompanied the first night of a show. I took a pitstop in my office to take a breather before standing in front of the cast and crew. I didn’t want anyone to know that I was just as nervous as they were. 
Most of the cast was in makeup or getting into their costumes when I found them. Jamie turned toward me, throwing me off with his dazzling smile. I returned a half-hearted one. When everyone was ready, we congregated backstage. I stood before them, ready to give one more pep talk. 
“It’s Opening Night, people,” I told them, needlessly. “We made it. You all know exactly what you need to do today and I have no doubt that you’ll pull it off. You’re all the people we wanted in these roles and on this stage. I trust in each and every one of you to go out there and put on one hell of a show. You can do this!” 
An echo of “Yeahs” and “Thanks” came from the group before me. I nodded to them, urging them to take one more moment to themselves before we found our places in ten minutes time. 
I walked off toward the stage, grabbing my headset, and communicating with the crew. A tap on my shoulder made me turn around. Uncle Lamb stood before me with the brightest smile on his face. I immediately wrapped him in a tight hug. Suddenly, it all felt right again. “You’re here,” I said stupidly. 
He gave me a look. “Of course I’m here. It’s your Opening Night. Where else would I be?” 
“Thank you,” I told him taking his hand. “I love you, Lamb.” We didn’t say it often, but I always meant it. 
He squeezed my hand back. “I love you, too, my dear sweet Claire. I’ve heard very promising things and I know you’re going to knock ‘em dead!” 
I felt tears brimming in my eyes. “Thank you.” I saw the house lights blinking. “You should go take your seat.” 
Lamb nodded to me once, flashing me another big smile. “Break a leg, Darling.” 
I watched him walk back out to the house, no doubt sitting in the front row like he always did. I knew I owed my career to him, but his support of me sometimes still blew me away. 
Pulling myself together, I watched as the actors found their places. I was backstage, finishing up checking with a crewman when I spotted Jamie. He was shaking out his hands, seemingly deep in his mind. I was almost hesitant to approach him, lest I shake him from whatever process he was in. 
He looked up and saw me. I took a few more steps toward him, still staying an appropriate distance away. “Break a leg,” I told him. 
Smiling at me, he nodded. “Thank ye, Sassenach.” 
I couldn’t fight my responding smile, so much as I wanted to. The name only came out occasionally, and not since the night in my office. I stared at him for a moment. A bit longer than I should have. All my feelings from the past few months welled up inside me, making me feel almost out of control. I reached forward, grabbing his hand. “You’ll be great.” 
Jamie looked at our hands before looking up at me. “Thank you.” 
The moment ended and I let go of him, walking past him to continue making sure things were running on schedule backstage. I stepped up next to John. He looked over at me with a comforting smile. No one had been around as I’d had my moment with Jamie. But John’s smile comforted my hurting heart all the same. “We did it,” he whispered to me as the house lights started to dim. “Well, really, you did it.” 
I smiled, knocking my shoulder into his. “Thanks, John. I couldn’t have done it without you.” I cupped my hand around the headset and spoke into it. “Okay, curtain up. Lights on. Enter Jamie.” 
* * *
The show had gone spectacularly. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face as I met with fellow Broadway directors who’d stepped out to see the show or friends who’d come to support me. It had all come together beautifully. My favorite part of a show had landed just the way I wanted it to. I spotted various members of the cast heading out as I walked around backstage. I’d heard Louise was hosting some after party. I was fairly certain I hadn’t seen Jamie leave yet though. 
I knocked once on his dressing room door before I heard the call to come in. My smile was still on my face as I walked in, surprised by new people joining Jamie. He was out of costume, standing there with four other people. 
“Claire!” he greeted, a large smile on his face. 
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you,” I said, quickly turning to leave. 
“No, wait!” I turned back to see him, an arm stretched out. “Ye’re no’ interrupting. This is my family.” I looked around and suddenly I saw it. The older woman with the stark red hair, same as his. The smaller brunette woman next to him with the same eyes. The older man with a similar build. “Everyone, this is Claire...my director,” he quickly added. 
Before I had a moment to move past the sting from that title (even though I bloody was his director), his mother threw her arms around me, clutching me tightly to her. “It’s so lovely to meet ye, Claire!”
“Mam, for the love of God!” 
She pulled back and looked at me, a bashful look on her face. “Sorry. I’m a hugger. I just wanted to say thank ye for all ye’ve done for my son. Giving him this part and this huge opportunity.” 
My eyes glanced over to see Jamie looking embarrassed. A smile widened on my face. “Well, I promise you, I didn’t do all that much. He earned every bit of it. We couldn’t have cast him if he hadn’t been perfect for the role. And I mean, you saw it. You can see how great he is.” My last statement was more or less said to him. His eyes held mine. 
“Well, either way, we’re verra appreciative,” his father said, reaching out to shake my hand. 
“I’m just happy you all could come in from Scotland,” I replied. “That’s so wonderful.” 
“Och, well we couldna have missed the lad making his big break,” a younger man with light hair said, holding out his hand to me. “Ian Murray, Jamie’s brother-in-law. And best friend.” 
I laughed at the addition. “It’s a pleasure to meet all of you. Will you be able to stay long?” 
“Oh aye,” his sister replied. “We’re making a trip of it. Spending a whole week here.” 
“That’s lovely!” 
“Aye, we’ll be back to see a few more showings for Jamie,” his mother told me. “Of course, we did want to check out other shows while we’re here in New York.” 
“Yeah, Mam got us tickets to see Hamilton,” his sister said excitedly. 
I laughed as I watched Jamie’s face fall. “You’re fecking kidding me.” 
“No. I dinna ken how she did it and she willna tell us.” 
Both Fraser children turned to look at their mother. She just shrugged, a smug grin on her face. I liked her already. 
“Well, I won’t keep any more of your time. Jamie, I just wanted to tell you what a great job you did. It was lovely to meet all of you,” I said, trying to back out of the dressing room. 
“Claire,” Jamie called, stopping me again. “Are ye going to the after party, then?” 
I shook my head. “No, I don’t think so. It’s not usually my scene.” 
“But ye should!” Jamie insisted. “Tis as much for ye as it is for us.” 
I stared at him, noting the desperation on his face. It confused me. The situation we were in was his doing. I reminded myself that I didn’t even know if he felt a fraction of what I did. “Well, we’ll see.” I looked back at his family. “I hope you have a great time here in New York. It was so nice to meet you.” And I turned and walked from the room before Jamie could stop me a third time. 
* * *
Jamie sighed, sinking back against the counter as the door closed behind Claire. His family was silent around him. He felt their eyes on him, though. If they weren’t there, he’d have had half a mind to chase after Claire. 
“Okay, I’ll be the one to ask,” Jenny said, breaking the silence. “So, what’s going on between you and yer director?” 
His head shot over to look at his sister. “Excuse me?” 
“Oh, we could all see it, Jamie. Tis quite clear something is,” Ian told him. 
He stared at Ian and Jenny’s knowing faces, confusion filling him. “There’s nothing,” he told them honestly. At that point in time, nothing was happening. 
“Son, I hate to say it, but Jenny and Ian are right. It does seem like there’s at least something there.” 
“Da!” Jamie replied. “Ye really believe them over me?” 
“I believe what I see,” Brian retorted. “And there certainly seemed like something was going on.” 
Jamie’s eyes closed as he shook his head. “That’s no’ possible. We…” he trailed off, not sure how to finish it. 
Jenny leaned her shoulder against him. “Why are ye so sure that there’s nothing?” 
“It’s no’ that I think there’s nothing. It’s that there can be nothing. And besides, I dinna think she feels that way. No’ for me,” Jamie spoke vaguely. 
“Here’s what I saw,” Jenny told him. “I saw a big Broadway director come here just to tell ye how great a job ye did. I tend to doubt she goes around to everyone in the cast and crew to do that. Would ye all agree?” Three other heads nodded in agreement. “Then, not only did she do that, but she stayed and talked with yer family, telling them how perfect ye were for the part. And flashing ye little looks the whole time. There’s something there, whether ye believe us or not. My theory is that she has feelings for ye.” She turned and looked at Jamie. “Now, are ye really going to stand here and tell us that nothing’s happened between ye two?” 
Jamie found the chair in the room and sank down into it. “No,” he said in a small voice. “But it’s more complicated than that.” 
Eight eyes stared back at him, urging him to tell the story. 
“Man, just tell us,” Ian finally prodded. 
Jamie nodded. “Alright, so the night before my audition for the show, I was… a bit nervous. So, I went out to a bar to get a drink and take the edge off. While I was there, I met Claire, but I didna ken who she was.” 
“So, what, ye flirted a bit and now that ye work together, ye want more?” Jenny asked. 
Jamie grimaced a bit. “No’ quite.” He glanced at his parents, wishing they didn’t have to hear this part. ���We, uh, spent the night together,” he told them all, looking at his hands. 
“Nice!” Ian cheered. Jenny glared at him. As did Jamie. “Sorry. Please continue.” 
“So, she had used a fake name because she wanted some anonymity. And I had no clue who she was. But then the next day at my audition...there she was. I was angry and confused and feeling all sorts of things. I didna want the part. I mean, I desperately wanted the part, but no’ like that. I didna want anyone to think that I’d done anything unseemly to get it,” Jamie promised them. “So I was ready to turn it down until Claire convinced me to take it.” 
“She convinced you to take it?” his mother asked. Jamie nodded. 
“How?” Jenny pressed. 
Jamie sighed, remembering that night all those months ago that he’d gotten that call from Claire. “She offered to step down as director if I would take the role. They apparently really wanted me to have the part and she didn’t want to stand in my way or something.” 
Jenny’s head whipped around as she looked at each other member of his family. “I’m sorry, she volunteered to give up her own position so that you would take this part?” Jamie nodded. “Holy shit, Jamie, ye’re a blind idiot.” 
“What?” he asked, a bit offended. 
“She clearly has some sort of feelings for ye! She offered to give up everything so that ye could have this part. Jamie, that’s no’ something ye do for no reason!” Jamie started to shake his head and Jenny groaned. She knelt down in front of his chair, meeting his eyeline. “Okay, so after ye spent the night together, did ye make plans to see each other again before ye ran into each other at auditions?” 
“No’ solid plans. We agreed that we should, but –” 
“Did ye develop feelings for her while ye worked together on this play?” Jenny continued. Jamie’s silence spoke volumes and he knew it. He looked away from his sister and she knew. “What makes ye think that she couldn’t be feeling the exact same thing?” 
“Because she stopped talking to me. She pulled back.” 
Jenny rolled her eyes. “Probably because she cared for ye and it was getting too hard, ye daft fool!” 
Jamie sighed, looking around at his family. “Ye really think that Claire has some sort of feelings for me?” 
They all gave a resounding “Yes.” 
“Well, what do I do?” 
“Christ, Jamie, I thought ye had more sense than this,” Jenny groaned. “Go after her!” 
He stood up, ready to do so, before he looked at his family. “Well, what about all of ye?” 
“We’re adults, my boy, I think we can get back to our hotel on our own,” his mother told him with a pat to his cheek. “This seems more important.” 
“Go get her, lad!” Ian called. 
Jamie nodded to them once, thanking them quickly before he sprinted from the dressing room, looking around frantically before he left the theater at large. Pulling out his phone, he took a risk. 
“Hello?” 
“John, I need to ask ye something.” 
“What’s up?” 
“Where does Claire live?” 
John paused. “I’m sorry, what?” 
Jamie cringed as he lingered outside the theater. “Look, my mom has some silly notion of sending Claire flowers for my career or something,” he offered as means of a lame explanation, “but I dinna ken her address.” 
“Oh,” John replied. Jamie wasn’t sure how much he bought it. “Do you have a pen?” 
“Shit, no.” 
John laughed. “Okay, I’ll text it to you.” 
“Thank ye. Sooner the better, please!” 
They hung up and Jamie bounced on his feet until John’s text came through. The minute he had her address, he was plugging it into Uber, hoping a ride was close by. The closest ride was three minutes away. 
It was the longest three minutes of Jamie’s life. He talked himself in and out of this plan too many times to count. Knowing that Claire might have feelings for him didn’t really change anything. But seeing her with his family, seemingly so at ease, unlocked something in him. He hoped he wasn’t about to make a fool of himself to her, but damn it, he had to try something. The agony of being so close and not being able to do anything about it was too much. He had to tell her. 
The Uber finally arrived and Jamie mentally urged him to drive faster and faster. After far too long for his liking, they finally arrived at Claire’s building. Looking up, Jamie felt a bit of intimidation. It was a nice place. Even if she said she didn’t, she really must have thought his place was trash. Shaking his observations off, he ran forward to press for her unit. There was no response. He tried again. Still no response. After five more tries, he started to think that maybe she wasn’t home. He’d come so far only to end here. Looking at the other buttons, he had an idea. After four other buttons, someone buzzed him in. 
Pumping his fist in the air, he ran forward to get the door before it locked again. He found her floor and then her door. Taking a moment to calm his nerves, Jamie lifted his hand to knock. 
There was still no answer. 
She hadn’t been at the theater. He’d looked. There was no way he’d beaten her home. Shaking his head, he decided to wait for her. He’d made it this far; he wasn’t giving up yet. 
* * *
I could hear the music pouring from Louise’s brownstone from the street. I pitied her neighbors tonight. Also, probably her husband. 
I didn’t usually like to go to after parties. For whatever reason, I thought it made me lose some of my authority. If they saw me dancing like a fool and drinking like a sailor, they’d respect me less. It could have just been a weird theory I’d come up with, but either way, I didn’t usually go. Of course it was Jamie-fucking-Fraser who finally convinced me to attend. 
What did I think was going to happen? Would I get drunk and finally tell him all that I felt? Doubtful. It was pointless to be there. But I wanted to be around him, so there I was, wading into the sea of cast, crew, and others just to see one person. The party was already in full swing by the time I’d arrived. 
Louise was the first person to see me. “Claire!” she screeched. “You made it!” She pushed a drink in my hand like we were teenagers at a high school party. 
“What is this?” I asked, gesturing with my cup. 
“Oh, just a red wine. We didn’t want to break the stemware.” I laughed loudly before taking a drink. “What made you come? You usually don’t.” 
I shrugged, aiming for nonchalance. “I don’t know. Jamie kind of convinced me I should come. Seemed kind of like a good time, I suppose.” 
Louise looked confused. “That’s odd. He’s not even here.” 
I looked around the crowded room. “He’s not?” 
Louise shook her head. “No. He seemed psyched about it when I saw him earlier. He told me he was going to send his family back to their hotel and be here. But he never showed up.” 
“Weird,” I replied, hoping she couldn’t see the wheels turning in my mind. If Jamie wasn’t here, I didn’t really want to stay. I wondered how long I needed to pretend to party before I snuck out and headed home. 
I talked to Joe very briefly as I drank the cup of wine I’d been given. When I finished the cup, I gestured like I was going to get more. He nodded, turning to his wife. Walking from Joe, I threw my cup in the trash and walked out the door. An overwhelming sense of disappointment flowed through me. 
I didn’t know what I was expecting. Nothing was going to change between me and Jamie tonight. All the reasons I’d withdrawn remained true. But there had been a small seed of hope in me, even if I didn’t know why. 
Rolling my eyes, I planned to go home and drown my sorrows in whatever bottle was nearest to me. The further I got from the loud party, home sounded even better.
Next chapter
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daffietjuh · 5 years ago
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Alex Manes would like you to stop pointing guns at his alien, please
A/N: I’ve had this Roswell/Supernatural thing in my documents for ages, I figured I should probably just put it out there at some point. Seeing as it’s Halloween, why not today. Not that this is particularly spooky or anything, it’s more of an excuse to write Badass Alex. Also, I haven’t watched Supernatural in like.... ten years? 
Alex was just sitting around Michael’s fire pit, it was daylight so it wasn’t lit up, but the heat of the sun felt really nice on his back. Him and Michael had been working on the whole “let’s be friends before we jump back into this cosmic love we’ve got”, that meant hanging out and actually talking to each other. So here he was, watching as Michael tinkered around with an old car and gave oil changes to the sedans and minivans of middle aged house wives. It was his day off and he’d been here almost all day.
It was almost five when a car pulled into the yard. Alex wasn’t an expert on cars by any stretch of the imagination, but even he recognized that this was a beautiful car. Michael whistled at it.
‘Wow.’ He said when two men unfolded themselves from the car. ‘She’s a beauty.’
Alex may not be an expert on cars, but he was an expert on recognizing dangerous people when he saw them. These two, were dangerous. Alex sat up a little straighter in his chair.
‘Thanks man.’ The shorter one of the two was still about 6’1 and build. He carried himself with a dangerous grace and his smile was just a tad too sharp. The taller one, who was at least 6’4 and build like a brick wall, had immediately taken in the surroundings and Alex. Like a soldier would.
They were both armed too. They hid it well, but Alex wasn’t stupid.
‘What can I do for you?’ Michael didn’t seem to notice as he wiped his hand on a rag hanging from his back pocket and he approached the men. Alex wanted to tell him to stop, to not go closer, but he didn’t want to alert them. He wasn’t sure what they wanted, maybe they were just passing through, no need for bloodshed.
‘Her engine has been playing up a little. We can usually figure it out ourselves, but I can’t seem to find the problem. We were told you’re the guy to see when you have car troubles.’ The shorter one said. He’d now also glanced at Alex at least twice.
Objectively, they were both handsome, but Alex was a little too busy trying to figure out how to keep Michael safe to really care about that. Alex decided to head closer. He pushed himself off the chair, his leg protested but he ignored it. The tall one was immediately looking at Alex, his eyes flickered down to Alex’s legs almost immediately. Observant.
‘What kind of car is it?’ Alex asked, it seemed like a good enough excuse to mix himself in the conversation.
‘She is a ’67 Chevy Impala.’ The short one said, bristling over Alex calling the car an “it”. Michael laughed, warm and friendly.
‘Don’t mind him, he wouldn’t know a Mustang from a Volkswagen. It’s tragic, I know.’ Alex huffed and rolled his eyes.
‘Yeah, and you wouldn’t know the difference between a Remington 700PSS and a SVD Dragunov, but you don’t hear me bitching about that.’ It wasn’t particularly subtle, using rifles as an example.
‘I don’t even know what half those words mean.’ Michael grinned at him. ‘I’ll take a look at it.’ Michael said to the guys. He headed over to the car with the shorter one, leaving the tall one with Alex.
‘So, what brings you to Roswell?’ Alex asked, he could do a little digging.
‘We’re just passing through. We’re heading to an uncle down in Texas.’ The tall one said. Alex hummed.
‘Taking the long way there, huh?’ Alex asked. The guy shrugged, shit he was huge, fighting this guy would suck.
‘We’re not in a hurry.’ He said, Alex could see the outline of the gun at his back and the knife in his boot. Alex nodded.
‘So you’re brothers?’ Alex asked. The tall one looked at him from the corner of his eye.
‘Yeah.’ He should probably try to get a name out of them.
‘I’m Alex.’ He held out his hand to the tall one.
‘Sam.’ He shook his hand, they were big and strong and these guys definitely knew how to fight. It was in their entire way of being. Probably raised by someone who could fight.
‘That’s Michael.’ Alex said, nodding at where Michael was leaning over the engine of the car. From what Alex caught of the conversation, Michael had yet to spot anything off.
‘That’s Dean.’ Sam and Dean, alright.
‘So, did you serve?’ Alex asked, and Sam stilled.
‘What makes you ask that?’
‘Just the way you hold yourself.’ Alex shrugged.
‘No, my father was a Marine, but we never served.’ Sam said, he sounded like he was trying to decide if Alex was a threat or not. ‘So tell me about this town, lots of weird shit happens here right?’ Sam asked and Alex looked at him for a second.
‘Alien enthusiast?’ He asked, Sam shook his head a little.
‘Nah, just heard a lot of stories about this place. Unexplained blackouts, disappearances, strange healings and other stuff like that.’ Alex nodded slowly.
‘It’s a small town, people like to talk, everything gets exaggerated by tenfold.’ Alex said. Whoever this guy was he was very well informed. Too well.
‘I don’t know man, I can’t find anything wrong with her.’ Michael straightened up, shrugging his shoulders. He sounded like it pained him to admit it.
Dean made eye contact with Sam something passed between them. Alex narrowed his eyes.
‘That’s alright. We weren’t really here for the car anyways.’ Dean said, a chill ran down Alex’s spine.
‘Michael.’ He said. His tone must have said enough because Michael tensed. He could go for Sam’s gun. It was probably his best bet. He moved the moment Dean did. He was lucky Sam was on the side of his good leg, because it gave him the speed to snatch the gun away before Sam could swipe at him.
When everyone stopped moving again, Alex had Sam’s gun pointed at Sam and Dean was pointing his at Michael. Dean studied the way Alex held the gun. He looked dangerously comfortable with the weight of his own weapon in his hand.
‘Alright. Let’s take it easy here.’ Dean said.
‘You’re the one coming in here armed.’ Alex said, his aim not wavering from Sam’s chest.
‘You’re not really going to shoot him.’ Dean said, with much more bravado and sass than necessary. ‘That’s murder, murder isn’t very nice.’
‘If you don’t put your gun down, I most certainly will shoot him.’ Alex said firmly. ‘Listen buddy, he means the world to me and I left nice back in the Middle East.’ Dean’s eyes flickered down to his leg.
‘Do you even know what he is?’ Michael, who’d been shifting uncomfortably, stilled.
‘What he is?’ Alex asked. He almost hoped this was some kind of racist thing.
‘He’s some kind of creature. We traced all the weird stuff in this town to him and two others.’ Dean said, as Michael tensed even further. They knew about Isobel and Max.
‘How do you even know about the weird stuff, that’s not exactly public record.’ Alex said, still keeping his emotions in check. He didn’t want to shoot Sam, but if Dean didn’t give him any other choice, he would.
‘We got the intel from someone local.’ Sam spoke up. He sounded much too relaxed for someone with a gun pointed at him. So Alex took the safety off the gun. That ramped up the tension.
‘Who?’
‘Jesse Manes.’
‘What?’ Alex said. He suddenly felt cold all over.
‘Your dad?’ Michael said, and that had both Sam and Dean look surprised.
‘Jesse Manes is your father?’
‘Unfortunately.’ Alex said. ‘Look, whatever the man told you, it’s probably a lie. He’s insane.’
‘You didn’t seem all that surprised when I said this one was a creature.’ Dean said, motioning towards Michael with the gun.
‘If Michael was a danger to the people in this town, I would kill him myself.’ Alex said, even though it made him feel sick.
‘Really? You just said he means the world to you, that you would kill an unarmed man for him.’ Dean said with a disbelieving look on his face.
‘I’ve killed people I loved before.’ Alex said, and for the first time he saw a hint of doubt on Dean’s face. ‘He’s not the monster here.’ Alex added.
‘Alex.’ Michael sounded like someone had punched him in the solar plexus.
‘Look, if you just get in your very nice car, and get the hell out of this town, I won’t report you to every single agency I have contacts in.’ Alex offered.
‘How do we know you’re not the crazy one?’ Sam asked. He shifted closer and Alex stepped back, making a tutting sound at him.
‘Don’t try anything stupid. I can pull the trigger before you can do any of the things you’re thinking of.’ Alex warned. ‘Look, there’s a reason I outrank my father. He’s a terrible man and he hates anything that different from what he believes to be normal. In my experience, humans are the worst thing out there. We’re the monsters.’
The brothers shared a look. They were having an entire conversation without saying a word. It ended with Dean sighing and going:
‘Fine. But we’re keeping an eye on this town. If more weird shit happens here, we might come back.’
‘It’s Roswell, weird shit always happens here.’ Alex argued.
‘More deadly weird shit.’ Dean rolled his eyes.
‘Alright, that’s fine.’ Alex shrugged.
‘Are you going to stop pointing that gun at my brother now?’ Dean asked, and Alex shrugged.
‘Are you going to stop pointing that gun at Michael now?’
‘Are we seriously going to have to count to ten?’ Sam asked. Michael sighed.
‘On three?’ Alex asked with a smirk. Dean rolled his eyes, but nodded.
‘One, two, three.’ Michael counted impatiently.
Both Dean and Alex lowered their weapons. Sam held out his hand for the gun, but Alex wasn’t about to give it back.
‘No, you can leave that with me.’ Sam seemed to want to argue, but Dean was already heading to the car.
‘Sam, come on.’
Alex kept the gun, keeping his eyes firmly on the car, almost forcing them out of the yard with his glare. They both stayed silent until they couldn’t hear the rumble of the engine anymore.
‘So, what the fuck just happened?’ Michael asked, startling into motion. Alex shrugged.
‘They were here to kill you.’
‘And you saved me.’
‘You could have used your telekinesis, I’m sure you could have handled them.’
‘They could have shot me in the back of the head while I was looking into the car, you saved me.’ Michael repeated, stepping closer with a heated look on his face. Alex swallowed.
‘I care about you Michael, of course I saved you.’ Michael grinned.
‘My hero.’ He stepped into Alex’s space. It was a move so familiar he should have seen it coming.
‘I thought we were still doing the friends thing.’ Alex said as Michael slid his hands up his chest. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off Michael’s mouth or anything, but still.
‘You never said just friends.’ Who was Alex to argue with that?
He let the last of his resolve slip away and kissed Michael. He hummed happily in the back of his throat and Alex was inclined to agree.
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