#i remember a guy once told me that i smelled like his wife’s favorite ice cream shop. i cried over it it was so sweet

[jokers-of-the-impractical]

Brian Quinn Mini Series “I Found a Boy” Part 3 of 3

Part 1   Part 2 

Content Warning: Implied Smut, Swearing

Word Count: 2100ish

The warm sunshine peeking through the curtains was a welcome contrast to the chilly weather that lay on the streets of Staten Island below you. You kept your eyes closed to savor the moment for just a short while more, but soon the serene beauty was interrupted by the sound of a beeping alarm clock altering it was now eight in the morning. You felt the bed shift next to you and knew Brian was turning to shut off the noise coming from your bedside table. The cats began to shift as well and leap down from their respective resting spots. As Q did so he leaned his face down and placed a gentle kiss on your cheek, instantly a warmth began to rise to your cheeks. “Good morning sweetheart” he muttered out in a half asleep and still raspy voice with an adorable grin and messy hair strewn about his head. As he began to turn back over to get out of bed and begin prepping for the morning ahead of him, you wrapped both your arms around one of his and held on tight. “No. Five more minutes” you grumbled out. You glanced over to see him giggling to himself. He did his best to shimmy out of your arms but it was to no avail. Slowly you climbed on top of him, the satin of your pajama set grazing against his bare chest and boxers. You were not letting the love of your life and personal space heater get up this morning. You raised your head so that your eyes would meet his deep shining orbs lovingly gazing back at you. “Baby, I gotta go! Trust me the sooner I get to the production meeting, the sooner I get to come home and hang out with you.” You let out an overly dramatic sigh and slight chuckle escaped too.

“But Bri, why did they have to schedule a meeting on a weekend! I went to spend my day off with you.” With that you sat up with crisscrossed legs and crossed your arms across your chest. With the last word you let your lips pop out into a pout. He could tell you were joking around with him and sat up to make your eyes meet again. “Well… who knows Mrs. Quinn? Maybe once I get back we can reenact what happened late into the night.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you. “Of course Mr. Quinn.” With that he planted a deep and passionate kiss on your lips before he rose from the bed and started to get ready for his meeting. As you cozied back into bed to escape the cold you silently watched him in awe, how did you get so lucky? You looked down to the engagement ring he had placed on your hand three years ago, and the wedding band that had resided with it for just under two years. You didn’t realize just how lost you had been in your thoughts until he was facing you again, dressed and his signature iced tea with lemon in a travel cup in tow with his car keys. But the smell of the tea today sent your stomach on a tilt-a-whirl. “Well my love, I’m off. I’ll be back before ya know it!” You pecked his lips and he made his way back downstairs and out the door. As soon as you were sure he wouldn’t hear you, you jumped up and sprinted to the bedroom’s ensuite bathroom to release the contents of your stomach. After you had finished, you kept wondering why all of the sudden the smell of iced tea and lemon made you puke? Then it hit you. You started rummaging through the cabinets in the bathroom until you found the hot pink boxes you were looking for. You pulled out the pregnancy tests that the rest of the guys got you as a one-year anniversary present. After making sure they hadn’t expired and how to use them, you go to business, using both just to be sure. You finished up and set the timer on your phone. As you waited you brushed your teeth to get the rancid taste out of your mouth from the unfortunate wake up call you had a few minutes prior. Once the timer chimed letting you know it was time to check, you slowly grabbed both tests and flipped them over to see the results. Both of them were the same. You were pregnant. An immense wave of joy and excitement washed over you. Now you were even more excited for Brian to get home so you could tell him the news. You knew he would be in the meeting until around eleven-thirty so you decided to take a quick shower and find other ways to occupy the time. After the warm droplets of water relaxed your muscles, you put your hair up in a messy bun and decided to throw on an oversized sweater and leggings. You then grabbed some papers you had to look over and grade that were sitting on your desk as well as your favorite bottle of nail polish. As you made your way downstairs to the living room you stopped at the framed photo of you and Brian from your wedding reception. It was a photo from your first dance. There you stood in your spaghetti strap ball gown, and hair done is a style reminiscent of Brigette Bardot with Bri looking very dapper in a tuxedo, he had just told you some silly joke so you were both looking at each other laughing. You could still feel the emotions and see the love in your eyes and his, you remember how happy you both felt them, and know you had the joys of parenthood to look forward to. Since grading elementary school papers was a total breeze you were now sitting with the tv on quietly for some background noise with a freshly dry mani and pedi while curled up and reading a book. Suddenly, loud knocking echoed abruptly throughout the house. You put your book down puzzled and followed the cats to the door. You were expecting anyone, but you opened the door anyway thinking maybe it was Amazon. As the door opened you soon met a familiar pair of eyes, those belonging to a certain ex boyfriend named Dean. “Dean? What are you doing here? Wait. How do you even know where I live?” He shoved his hands into his pant pockets and looked at you with a sheepish smile. “Hey Y/N. Can I come in? I’ve wanted to talk to you for quite some time, and I finally convinced Natasha to tell me your address.” You let out an exasperated sigh, and motioned for him to come in. You made a mental note to call your friend Nat and chew her out later. You knew that she was still friends with Dean after your breakup, but heck she was one of your best friends and bridesmaids! Why would she tell him! You led Dean to the small table in the kitchen, he took a seat while you leaned against the counter. You brewed yourself a mug of hot cocoa to calm the fury and nerves coursing through you. “Do you want anything?” “Um yeah, can I have water?” You went into the fridge, pulled out a bottle, handed it to him and took your place across the table. “What do you want Dean?” the annoyance was evident in your voice. “I just wanted to catch up, see how you were doing.” “I’m doing just fine. How’s Andi?” When you brought up your ex best friend and the girl he cheated on you with, he slightly flinched. “I’m okay. We ended things years ago.” “Aw. I hate to say I’m not surprised. So no other conquests or flings?” He just shook his head. You had no idea where all of this sudden confidence was coming from, but you weren’t complaining. Throughout your relationship Brian had helped you grow even more and get even more brave and strong, if only he could see this now. “Are you still with that guy from TV? Nat told me it was pretty serious.” “Yeah I am still with Brian, in fact he should be back here soon.” You looked at him dumbfounded, did he honestly not know you and Brian had been married for almost two years now? You looked to see that the sleeve of your sweater was covering the rings on your finger. You went to slide the sleeve down to show him the rings, when he suddenly started speaking again while rising up from the table. “Look Y/N, the real reason I’m here is that… I know I messed up. But I’m here now, please leave this Brian guy and we can start over! I love you.” Now you shot up from the table too. “Are you kidding me! You think that after all this time you could just show up and expect me to take you back! I spent so much time crying over you and you didn’t care. Now that I am not only the best version of myself, but I am now happily with the love of my life you think you can show up, ask me to leave him and I’ll go with you? No! You can take all those crocodile tears and go cry me a river like I did over you a long time ago.” In all the commotion, you didn’t hear the front door open or close and the cats going to greet Q. Nor did you hear the footsteps making their way to the kitchen to hear what all the yelling was about. “Brian is the most amazing man in the world, and you will never be a tenth of the man he is! How dare you come here acting like you want me, now that I don’t need you or want anything to do with you.” Then a voice cut of your angry rant. “Aww baby! You really think I’m the most amazing man in the world?” You turned around to see your husband with a bag of Chinese takeout in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. You ran over and jumped into his arms, while he spun you around in a hug. “Honey you’re home! How was your day? I-” You were soon cut off again by Dean. “Wait, you two live together?” You turned your head back to Dean. “Umm yeah. Married couples usually do.” “Wait, you’re married!” Brian then chimed in. “Yup, going on two years. Wait are you Dean?” Dean shook his head, and Brain placed you down gently. “Dude I gotta shake your hand man, cause if it wasn’t for you being a total asshole and idiot I may have never met Y/N. And she’s the best thing that ever happened to me.” He shook his hand vigorously. “Now if you’ll excuse us, I believe I have some lunch waiting for me and my beautiful wife. You can feel free to see yourself out.” With that Dean slumped his shoulders and began to make his way to the front door and you both heard the door open and close. You turned back to Brian and peppered kisses all over his face. “What’s all this for?” you motioned to the takeout and flowers. “Well, I felt so bad about you being here while I was in a meeting so one the way home I went to Chang’s and got our favorites, then I went by the flower stand and got these.” “Bri this is amazing! And I have a surprise for you too.” “Really? Well what is it?” You went back upstairs and grabbed one of the pregnancy tests and hid it behind your back. “Are you ready?” “Oh honey I was born ready!” “Okay, close your eyes, and stick out your hands.” Brian did as he was told and you placed the test gently into his hands. “Okay open ‘em!” Brian sprung his eyes open and looked down. He started at the test for a moment and then the gears started turning. Soon he was trying to get words out but couldn’t. “Y/N, are you?” “Pregnant? Uh-huh!” He grabbed you and picked you up again. ‘We’re gonna have a baby!” He kissed you yet again and set you down gently. The minute you were back on solid ground, his hands went straight to your tummy, and kisses soon followed. You both spent that evening cuddled up on your bed talking about the future until you fell asleep still intertwined and cats all around you both.

[floralguccistyles]

Remember when I said this fic was coming soon in March of 2020? Well...I promise I haven’t abandoned it. I want to finish Wildflower before I start on this, but I thought I might post a sneak peek because why not? Hope you guys enjoy!

mise en place, sneak peek

Michel’s soupe a l’oignon was burning.

Michel had also been through a terrible breakup the night before in which he had found his boyfriend of almost seven years in bed with their personal trainer. Then Michel’s boyfriend had announced that he and this personal trainer were actually married, per a terrible ceremony in Las Vegas when they were both drunk. Therefore, Michel was technically the other man. Michel had never been the other man before. He was obviously having a rough time.

But the fucking soup was burning.

“Michel! The soup!” Italia shouted before the scent could officially assault all of my senses. The second the words left her mouth, however, I could smell it. The onions were burning to a crisp. There would be no saving them, of this I knew. 

“Shit!” Michel yelled, immediately turning off the heat of the stove. He went to go grab the saucepan and the hurried “no!” didn’t leave my mouth fast enough as he gripped the cast iron handle with his bare hand for approximately three seconds before he yelped and dropped it back down on the stove top with a slamming sound. “Shit, shit shit!” he repeated, clutching his wrist with his other hand. 

“Let me see,” I demanded, moving away from my own meal (which would be fine and not on the verge of burning for at least another five minutes) and towards Michel. He held out his hand to me with tears in his eyes and I honestly felt bad for the guy. 

I just also felt really, really bad for the customer who was waiting for their soup.

“Go run it under cool water. Cool, Michel, not cold. Ice-cold will damage the tissue even more. Then get a rag wet and hold it over. You can just go ahead and take your fifteen.”

“My soup—”

“Italia and I will handle it,” I interrupted. The more time we wasted standing here arguing was time that could have been spent trying to salvage the soup. It didn’t help that we were already down a chef, since Frederick’s wife was giving birth, but we would make do. Italia and I always did.

“Thanks, Dom. I’ll be in the lounge.”

Lounge was a loose term. It was a tiny little room in the back that looked dingy and unkempt. Still, it was enough to pass health inspections. Only about two people could fit back there at a time, which was why I usually just sat in my car for my breaks.

“Sounds good, Michel.” My eyes locked with Italia, who was already working on melting the butter and oil for Michel’s soup in a new saucepan. Isobel, one of our dishwashers, had already grabbed the pan Michel had ruined and was scrubbing it clean with her thick rubber gloves on her hands. At least I knew she wasn’t going to be burned. 

When Michel turned to go into the lounge, I grabbed an onion and automatically began chopping it. “Sorry, Italia,” I muttered under my breath, knowing she could hear me just fine. We had gotten used to the hustle and bustle of the kitchen.

“It’s fine. Tell Louis to offer them a dessert on the house because this soup is going to take at least another fifteen.”

I wanted to slam my head against the counter. Or better yet, use the pan Isobel was now putting on the drying rack to hit over my head. “Fuck. Alright.” 

Finding Louis was easy enough. He was making his rounds in the front of the restaurant, his pleasant attitude most likely earning him more than average tips. The kind of people who came to Lesauvage were wealthy enough to tip generously. Sometimes they didn’t, but for the most part, Louis wouldn’t be starving anytime soon. “Louis!” I hissed under my breath when he passed by the kitchen doors, cups in hands to refill. He jumped comically.

“Christ, Dom, you scared me,” he replied in a quiet voice, not wanting any of the customers to hear. “What?”

“Tell table eleven there was a complication with their soup and dessert is on the house.”

“What the fuck happened to their soup?”

I raised a brow. “Michel made it.”

Michel’s boyfriend drama had already made it around the restaurant. Twice. Chefs were a nosy bunch. Louis nodded in understanding and filled up a cup with iced tea as he looked towards where I assumed table eleven was. I actually hadn’t ever really paid attention to the front setup of Lesauvage because I had always entered through the back door.

“Fine. But I’m recommending the chocolate mousse because you’re here and you make it the best.”

“Compliments will get you everywhere,” I replied with a wink.

He grinned. “Got me into your bed, didn’t it?”

Louis and I had a fling when I had started working at Lesauvage. I was fresh out of culinary school, bright eyed and bushy tailed, and he was the experienced waiter who comforted me in the lounge my first day when my boss had completely ripped me a new one. He was the unattainable, three-years-older coworker who I was moon-eyed over for at least five months before we actually slept together. And once we had, it was like some switch had been flipped inside my body and he was suddenly nothing but a friend.

Thank the fucking lord he felt the same way.

“You’re damn right it did. Now go make me proud, Tomlinson.”

When I hastily returned to the kitchen, Italia was already ten times ahead where Michel had been with the soup. I sent her a thankful look and grabbed the beef stock, passing it her way as I grabbed a knife and began chopping the green onions for my own dish. 

As much as I complained about the hustle and bustle of the kitchen, I secretly thrived in it. It was what I had missed when I had been in culinary school. So many of my classmates cooked their meals silently. When I cooked at home, I blasted music and sang loudly and off-key to myself. At work, I had the conversation of other people. I liked learning about Italia’s kids and Isobel’s ex-boyfriend who kept trying to call her. I even liked Michel, even though right now he wasn’t my favorite person in the world. 

School had been lonely. At least here I felt like I belonged.

“They’re good for the chocolate mousse!” Louis shouted over the sound of Isobel doing the dishes and Italia chopping more vegetables. 

“You’re a saint, Tomlinson!” I replied, dropping the spices needed onto Italia’s cutting board. She slid them into the soup with her knife and the skill of a seasoned Lesauvage veteran. 

The chocolate mousse was luckily already in the fridge cooling from my prep this morning, so I didn’t have to worry about making it at that exact moment. I did finish the salad I was working on and passed it off to Sydney, who was another runner. She grabbed the plate and sped off to table seven. 

The time went by quickly when I was in the kitchen. My thoughts could roam  because the movements of cooking were muscle memory at this point. When I had first been hired, I had been terrified to mess anything up. The first time I had pulled a Michel, I had cried. My boss had yelled at me pretty badly, but had brought me into his office afterwards to apologize and assure me that I was doing a great job. Now, it felt like second nature to pour the green onions into the butter garlic sauce that was sautéing. And when Italia handed me the soup that she had completed, I sent her a grateful look and wasted no time in handing it off to Louis. We worked as a team here.

I thrived on that.

“Get those chocolate mousses out and ready,” I told Michel when he came back from his break. His hand didn’t look too worse for wear, but he looked decently embarrassed. I knew, at least for tonight, there would be no more mistakes. 

“I’m really sorry, Dom,” he said softly, preparing for my anger.

“It’s fine, Michel. Just work on desserts for now, okay? But this is the comp dessert for table eleven, so try to pay attention, yeah?”

He hung his head, but nodded and went to go prep the mousse. It wasn’t that Michel wasn’t talented. He wouldn’t have been hired if he hadn’t been a great chef. But the boyfriend thing was really getting to him. I hoped he had at least the next two days off to recoup.

“Dom,” I heard Louis say about thirty minutes later as he walked through the kitchen door. He had the empty plates from table eleven in his hand and handed them off to Isobel. “They’re ready for the dessert.” He eyed me questionably when Michel handed them off to me, as if it was wrong that I had let Michel touch them after his little mishap but I had faith in the chefs. “These better be good,” Louis said in a warning tone.

“I made them, Tomlinson, of course they’re good,” I snapped, clicking my tongue in annoyance. It was a bad habit I had done when I was a kid and never seemed to shake it. 

He shrugged, taking the completed desserts and walking back out to the restaurant. “They looked great, Michel!” I encouraged, turning to continue chopping the beef I had been working on before Louis had come in. 

When I cooked, time passed by without my notice. What felt like two minutes later but was really thirty, Louis walked back into the kitchen with a solemn look on his face. “They want to see the chef.”

“Who?”

“Table eleven.”

Shit. “You said they were fine with the soup, yeah?” Louis nodded, which meant the problem was with the chocolate mousse. And since Michel had done nothing but added the whipped cream and chocolate shavings on top, if they had a real problem with the mousse, it was on me. “Fuck. Alright. Italia, can you finish this dish for me really quick?”

Italia nodded, looking up from the celery she was chopping to examine the chicken I was seasoning to see how much she would need to do to complete it. Nervously wiping my hands on my apron after I washed them quickly, I tried to make myself look a little more presentable. It was rare that chefs were invited to the front of the restaurant, so we were usually unkempt and had food on our clothes. It didn’t matter to me what I looked like as long as the food was good, but I knew it was a shock to the high-end patrons of the restaurant.

Louis led me over to table eleven, where three people were sitting. There were two men and one gorgeous woman that looked like she could model for a living. She was happily chatting and holding hands with one of the men, excitedly waving around her free hand. He looked engrossed in her story, nodding and smiling and staring at her like she was the best thing in the world. Their companion was simply taking sips of his wine (a wonderful red that went really well with the chocolate mousse and I thanked Louis for obviously recommending it to them) and pursing his lips in response to whatever the woman was saying.

She stopped talking when she noticed Louis and sent a blinding smile at us. “This is the chef, I presume?”

“Dominique Blanchard,” I said, holding out my hand for her to shake. I was thankful I had run my hands under some soap and water. We weren’t allowed to have our nails painted in case some of the varnish fell off into the food, but her fingers were perfectly manicured and painted a vibrant blue. “I’m sorry again about the soup. We had an incident in the kitchen.”

She waved it off. “The soup was fine. That chocolate mousse, however? It was to die for!”

I felt my shoulders deflate. I had been so worried that they were upset with their experience or food that I hadn’t even thought they had wanted to chat because they enjoyed their meal. “Thank you. It’s a Lesauvage specialty.”

“Dominique makes it the best,” Louis supplied helpfully from behind me. I grinned nervously.

“We all loved it,” the man holding her hand spoke, and I was surprised to hear an Irish accent. “It was the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” And I was glad it took the attention off the fact that their soup was late. The other man stayed quiet, simply ignoring the conversation as he sipped at his wine again. 

“I have the weirdest proposition for you. Please feel free to say no if you don’t want to, but I would kick myself if I didn’t ask.”

My eyes strayed back to the woman, who was talking to me politely. 

“I’m two months pregnant,” she said happily, her hand going to her stomach like most pregnant women did when their pregnancy was announced, “and I’m so incredibly exhausted nowadays. I can barely muster up enough energy to come out to dinner, let alone make myself toast in the morning. I was wondering if you’d ever consider being a personal chef?”

[westerhos]

Our Story: Chapter 4

Woof, it’s been such a hell of a week! Here is a (slightly delayed) fourth chapter. As usual my notes are at the bottom. Take ‘em or leave ‘em.

[December 24, 1992]

The yellow mocks him. Lines of it cross the walls, broad brushstrokes that climb from floor to the ceiling, ceiling to floor. Back again.

FAITH.

Once, Jamie and Claire had laughed at the names underneath, the written ghosts of other possibilities:

“How about Lambert?”

“Nay, Dalhousie is much better.

“Dalhousie?” Claire’s paintbrush strike-through, a definite no. “That sounds like a bloody sneeze.”

He thinks of them now: the would-be Dalhousie, the would-be Lambert, who still exist, half-formed, beneath the layers of paint. Two futures they’d decidedly rejected, covering them with white and then, finally, in the brightest yellow. F-A-I-T-H, they’d declared instead. So bold and sure—what they’d chosen and surrendered, by force, to the grave.

I dinna ken how to say this, man, but the hospital called and…

It was the prison guard who’d told Jamie this, watery eyes peering apologies through the bars. For the first time since Jamie’s arrest, the man’s scowl had lifted, and under the twitching bush of mustache, a grimmer line rose up. Solid as any wall. (That line marks the end of this part of the story. Jamie and Claire’s marigold paradise, gone forever.)

Jamie sees the proof of this all around him: the crib is empty, its sheets unused and its teddy unloved. A bed that will wait and wait, its expectations never met. Right above, the mobile’s flowers droop, dead before tiny fingers could swat them into life. Jamie rips it from the ceiling, and the plaster falls. Little chips of white on his shoulders.

It has been eight months since Claire kneeled alone, veiled in black. It has been eight months since Jamie wept in orange, that very same day, behind a sheet of Plexiglass. He had stared into the other side, willing every visitor’s face into Claire’s. (None of them right; none of them hers.)

And it has been eight days since Claire left and Jamie woke up, drowning in their empty cot. He still smells her, all flowers and wet soil because, even gone, she is there beneath his skin.

Outside, Jamie hears carolers sing, voices carried on the upward swing of the wind. Silent night, holy night. He slides the window open, letting the ice fill his lungs. He holds his breath, welcomes the sting, and listens for the reassuring sounds of her. Claire, a memory under the gust and song:

“You should’ve seen the hernia I treated today!”

“He shushed me, can you believe it? What a wanker.”

“Chinese take-out for dinner, yeah?”

“Jamie, will you come to bed?”

But his wife grows faint beneath the rising bellows, the carolers cheered by the promise of warmth. Silent night, holy night. All is calm, all is bright. And so Jamie exhales—nothing else to do but mouth along, swallow that calm, bright place within the wind; conjure it inside the studio.

In this new place, Jamie does not betray his wife or know the cold, unforgiving grip of handcuffs and the cold, unforgiving grip of grief. In this place, husbands say the right words and wives accept them, do not leave in the dead of night. Here is a place where things make sense, and where babies breathe. Holy infant so tender and mild.

And yet. Jamie and Claire’s home, with its frozen pipes and its skeleton crib, is not that place, does not make sense anymore. The great, illogical impossibility of it all—this:

It was here that Jamie, so desperate for money, siphoned off what little they had. A gamble gone wrong, behind Claire’s back and against his word. And it is here that Jamie wrapped his wrists each morning, bandaging the marks of four weeks in a cell. His skin had bruised, like his heart, which still sits feather-light in his chest. So soft, so quiet. So much of it gone without Claire.

From his window, Jamie watches the carolers advance towards a church, its doors sprung wide. Their footprints sign farewells in the snow, walking away, away, away. The wind howls in their wake, alive with Jamie’s loneliness.

“Come back!” he yells from above, and his own voice is a shock to him. He yells a second time, more frantic now. It comes so easily, these pleas to the retreating strangers. So much easier than calling his wife, begging for her forgiveness, because finally—finally—he has found the words. Come back, come back, come back.

But when it counted, Jamie had turned inward and away; had said nothing. Wasn’t silence better than the wrong words? Smile, rub your hand along her back, take her to bed and fill the void with another, different child? But in that silence, Claire had heard the rip—that swift severance of the bright, red string between them. The two of them, suddenly on their own, waging separate wars against the world. And so she’d left—and he has not called.

“Come back!” he yells again. His desperation echoes between the buildings.

For a second, Jamie thinks they’ve heard him. Their shuffling stops and a woman, fingers clutching her naked neck, turns around. She looks to the ground, all frenzied eyes, before someone grabs her, saying, “It’s cold! Leave it!” She resists at first, peering over her shoulder, but then forges onwards with the crowd. Sleep in heavenly peace. Sleep in heavenly peace…

It is quiet now. Jamie closes the window and leans against it, coming face to face with the empty crib. It is this, this above all else, that does not make sense to him. Hadn’t he seen the pictures—those blurry, vague promises of a little girl? Tacked them to the visor of his car, folded them into his wallet to brandish at the office? And hadn’t he felt the kicks against Claire’s stomach, and assembled this crib, this damn crib?

And yet—there is nothing that makes sense.

And yet—he knows handcuffs and he knows grief.

And yet—she’d had no words to accept, simply left in the dead of night.

And yet. And yet. And yet.

The baby did not breathe.

— - —

(Later, Jamie will rise from his sleep and look out the window. He will follow the path of the sinking sun until it catches a necklace, glaring golden in the snow. Jamie will brace the storm, put the necklace in his pocket. Wait. And when the sidewalk has melted, he will place the necklace there, precisely where it was dropped, for the caroler to find.

Of all the things that do not make sense, he is sure of this: soon, the woman will remember her father clasping it around her neck. Or she will remember when her boyfriend said, “I saw this, and I thought of you.” When she tried it on, just a child, in front of her mother’s mirror. She will remember how much she loves this necklace, this slice of paradise in the dark, cold winter, and she will look for it. This, Jamie knows: she will come back.)

— - —

Before she signs the papers, her lawyer asks, “Are ye sure of this, Claire?”

And when she sees the page, filled with so many endings, she wants to say, “No. No, I’m not sure.”

No, I don’t know if this is the right thing to do.  

I don’t know.

I don’t know.

But, Claire thinks, what other option is there? How else to forget the butterfly ears, or the way Faith’s skin had caught the dawn? Such a beautiful, translucent thing: strawberry hair, blue lightning across the pales of her lids. How else to forget that Claire had clung to the hospital sheets, so damp and so bloody, after they’d taken Faith away? Just to remember, please, she’d cried. Those dirty sheets, the only sign that the child had ever been there. Please, please. Just to remember.

She’s grown so tired of remembering, now craves the oblivion of forget. She does not want the memory of Jamie’s sleep-smile, lit red and blue (just like their daughter) by the Christmas tree’s glow. She does not want the memory of how she almost didn’t leave, how she’d stood in the gateway to their marigold paradise, paralyzed. A moment in time where she might have gone back, lain down beside her husband and unpacked the suitcase. Never called Ned Gowan.

Standing there that night, Claire had watched Jamie sleep and wondered: Would she have been like you? and Would she have looked like you? And the answers, so immediate and so clear in the rainbow tree light were, Yes. Because how could God resist?

And so what else is there to do but sign the papers? Jamie, day after day, staring back at her with their would-be-child’s face. Claire had closed the door, had not looked back. Because how could she possibly stay?

At her silence, Ned Gowan probes again, “Are ye sure of this, Claire?” and calmly, calmly she takes the pen. She signs along the blank line, and every loop of her name—now: Beauchamp, Beauchamp, Beauchamp—swirls with all her doubts.

No, I’m not sure.

No, I don’t know if this is the right thing to do.

I don’t know.  

I don’t know.  

I don’t—

No.

— - —

(If the heart moves at the speed of light, then it will shatter upon impact. A million broken shards, all strewn across the world. Pieces of Claire will remain in that studio, in that cot, in her husband’s arms. But most will be found buried deep below the ground. Inside the tiny, wooden box that holds their baby girl.)

— - —

And now we get to my least favorite chapter in the entire fic! I still laugh about the fact that I casually gloss over Jamie gambling their life away on the day Faith died—which I think was my nod to Jamie’s duel with BJR? I honestly never quite figured it out, which means it probably shouldn’t be in the story at all. It’s asking you guys to take a massive leap of faith, so thanks for making the jump for me.

Either way, I have seen my parents go through a similar experience. And I think when you’re living on your own for the first time—as I was doing when I first wrote this—you start to reflect on who they are as people, outside of their role as “your parent”. What sort of griefs and hardships have they shielded you from? It was something that was on my mind at the time and it bled into this story.

Despite its flaws, there are some things I still like about this chapter. Claire and Jamie painting Faith’s name on the wall is the image that I started with. The passage about Jamie seeing the caroler is one of my favorites, and I hope it’s a metaphor that works. And I still like the rhythm of Claire’s indecision: I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t—No. It’s nice to write something that makes even you, the writer, feel a lil sad!

[fangirlxwritesx67]

Looking For A Black Cat

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3, 1550 words. Sam x Rowena, side of Dean. Memory loss, cute animals, food, and fluff.

Your name is Sam Winchester. You are a soldier who lost your memory in a battlefield injury. It is Wednesday, so you volunteer at the animal shelter today. 

Sam found himself mouthing the words along with the electronic voice coming from his phone. Good, he remembered that much. It was going to be a good brain day, maybe even better than normal. 

He showered and shaved, dressed in his usual uniform of jeans and a plaid flannel shirt. Why he owned so many was a mystery to him, but they were comfortable, especially on cool fall days like this.

He was ahead of the voice on the phone, headed to the kitchen for a smoothie, where he discovered Dean eating a plate full of pie and ice cream. Dean, his brother, was the one person he never forgot. He had been injured at the same time and the same way as Sam. The two of them did their best to support and help one another. 

Memories of the day before came flooding back. It had been a bad brain day, one of the worst, the kind that only happened a couple of times a year. Helpless and frightened, he had knocked his head on the shared wall of their duplex. At the time, he hadn’t realized what he was doing, but the sound had been enough to summon his brother. 

Had Dean slept over? Maybe that was why he was in his kitchen eating dessert at 730 in the morning. 

“Dean, what are you doing?” Sam asked as he poured himself a cup of the coffee his brother had made.

“I was out of food so I came over to see what you had.” His words were light but his face reflected his concern. That was typical Dean, always downplaying his role in caring for others. 

Sam rolled his eyes, wordlessly reassuring his brother that he was fine. “Or you could, you know, go grocery shopping.”

“But you’re better at grocery shopping than I am! Besides, why did you buy apple pie and ice cream if it wasn’t for me? You know that’s my favorite thing.”

Sam did, in fact, not know that, but it sounded right. As he headed to the fridge, he looked more closely at the shopping list hanging there. At the bottom of his neatly organized shopping list, cross referenced with a weekly meal plan, it said: PIE That was definitely not his handwriting. 

“Dean.” He turned and smiled fondly at his brother, who grinned happily. 

“Thanks for remembering, big guy. Hey, don’t you have to go to work? Go snuggle some puppies or something?” 

It is time to leave the house. It is time for your shift at the animal shelter.

The electronic voice cut in before they could argue further. Sam shook his head and grabbed his keys. His GPS gave him directions but he seemed to know where he was going so he tuned out as he drove. 

If it was going to be a good brain day, then maybe, just maybe- Sam tried his hardest to push his mind back, to discover anything from his past. But everything before his injury was a blank. 

Whoever he had been before, whatever he had done, was buried. The only thing he ever got was flashes in his nightmares, faces and flames that crumbled into ash the minute he woke up. No matter how hard he tried, his past was lost to him. He had his brother, and he got out alive. Maybe that was enough.

“Hey, Winchester,” his boss Billie greeted him. He wondered, sometimes, how much she knew. She was always patient, always generous and gave him all the help he needed. A warm smile lit her beautiful brown face.

“I have a grant-writing seminar to attend, Sam, so it’s up to you today. You good with that?” Before she left, she pointed him to the drawer in the filing cabinet that had his name. 

The neatly organized rows of folders looked familiar, each one with the name of a cat or dog that was waiting to find a home. He looked through them, recognizing his own handwriting. He had made meticulous notes that would help an animal get adopted and help their new humans care for them. 

There was also a bell, and a sign that at one point he must’ve made. With the Animals Ring Bell for Service

Like most weekdays, it was a slow day. Walking back into the rooms full of animal cages felt like coming home. The sounds of the animals, barks and yelps and even a few eager mews, were welcoming. Even the smells of fur and cleaner and animals were earthy and grounding.

The dog room was the largest, cages lining both sides. He took his time with each one, petting them and giving them attention. Once he was done with the dogs, he moved on to the cats. Cats were more of a mystery, less outwardly affectionate. He spoke to them softly, even the ones who seemed to ignore him.

At lunchtime, a man came in with his little girl. He and his wife had adopted a dog over the weekend, but something wasn’t quite right. The man told Sam how his new dog could barely sleep, could hardly eat, always seemed to be looking for something. 

Sam nodded. Even without consulting his notebook, he knew which dog that was - one of a bonded pair. The two dogs had been kept in adjoining cages and let out in the yard for playtime together. When one was fed, they waited for the other to eat. When they slept, they curled up so their backs were touching through the wire mesh of the cages. 

The family was already vetted, so it was easy for Sam to approve the second adoption. He smiled as he watched father and daughter leave with the dog and imagined the reunion that would happen when they got home. He wondered, sometimes, if he and Dean were like that, a bonded pair, unable to really exist without the other. 

After that, he was alone again until it was almost closing time. 

The red-headed woman who stepped through the door instantly drew his attention. Not only was she strikingly attractive, but she had a presence that seemed to fill the room. Her bright smile was the most beautiful thing he could remember seeing.

“I’m Rowena and I’m looking for-

“-a black cat. I know.” Sam didn't know exactly how he knew that, but it seemed right, and she nodded approvingly. 

He gestured towards the cat room and she led the way. He couldn’t help watching her as she walked, the precise rhythm of her steps, the easy sway of her hips. No, that seemed rude. When they got to the row of cages, she turned to face him and he felt his breath catch in his throat. She was stunning, with big green eyes and a profile like a cameo piece. 

“No!” Rowena stomped one heel, startling him with her sudden flash of temper. “These are the same cats you had last week. I don’t want kittens, or ginger cats, or any other common moggie. I need a black cat.”

Sam was taken aback, but he had to try. “Ma’am, have you ever met Mamacita?” 

She crossed her arms and pouted. “Is she some secret black cat you’ve been keeping from me?”

“Well, no, she’s not a black cat. But maybe, just, look at her?” He couldn’t say why this cat and this woman needed to meet. Maybe it was something he had known and forgotten. Maybe not. But he gestured to the cage that held the reclusive calico.

Rowena hardly had to bend down to see the cat in her cage. The cat hissed, as expected. Then to Sam’s surprise,  she called and Mamacita came closer. She kept her distance, still, but seemed interested.

“Ohhh,” the woman cooed softly. “I see. You’re a mama cat, aren’t you, but you’ve lost your kittens and your home. You’re scared because you don't know who you are anymore.”

Rowena slipped her delicate fingers through the bars of the cage and Sam watched in shock as Mamacita approached. At first, the cat was suspicious, sniffing the painted nails, but then gave in and leaned into the woman’s hand. 

The two of them spent several moments in quiet communication before Rowena stood up. Shaking her skirts and tossing her curls, she set her chin. 

“A lovely tortoiseshell, no doubt. But I need a black cat. I’ll be back next week, as always. I hope you’ll have one for me then.”

It was closing time, so Sam locked the door behind her as she left. The room seemed suddenly empty, darker without her. He stood there for a moment, trying to sort out the swirl of thoughts and feelings in his mind. Who was she? Why did it seem like he should know her?

As always.

He must’ve seen her here before. That explained why she looked familiar. It didn’t explain why he was so drawn to her, why he felt almost bewitched in her presence. It certainly didn’t explain the sense of loss that came over him when she was gone. He shook his head slowly. It was something he would never know. 

Stay tuned for 3 more chapters of this story!

Thanks to @mskathywriteswords for the preread and encouraging me to see where this story goes!

SPN First Last and Always: @boondoctorwho @dawnie1988 @deanwanddamons @defenderrosetyler @defenderrosetyler @emoryhemsworth @fookinghelljensensthighs @idreamofplaid @kalesrebellion @kickingitwithkirk @maddiepants @magssteenkamp @onethirstyunicorn   @there-must-be-a-lock @tloveswriting

Sam Girl For Life: @awesomesusiebstuff @lilsylvia @winchesterxfamilybusiness

Dean Curious:@adoptdontshoppets @awesomesusiebstuff @deangirl7695 @deans-baby-momma  @mrsjenniferwinchester @stoneyggirl @wayward-gypsy @winchesterxfamilybusiness

Rowena My Queen: @delightfullykrispypeach @lilsylvia @marril96 @pansexualdarling @songofthecagedmoose

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Animal (14)

Chadwick Boseman X Original Female Character “Sianna”

Chapter Warning: Cursing, Angst, Plot, Plenty of Words, Slow Burn

Word Count: 4.9k

Note:  I hope you guys enjoy this. By the way, Tumblr is on the BS and flagged every chapter because my old mood board had a portrayal of backshots. LMFAO!!!! So new mood board. 

I censored my mood board, let’s see if it gets flagged. LOL

**Loosely edited/Proofread***

Thank you guys for reading!!!  If you enjoyed this please LIKE, REBLOG, COMMENT. ❤️ ❤️

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-Chadwick-

“It’s not Netflix and Chill. It’s not Netflix and Chill. She is the mother of your children. Show her you’re not just another sex-craved black man. You have depth. You have substance and standards. You’re not easy.”

 He sat in his car in the traffic on the freeway looking at himself as he recited his lecture. He’d said this or something similar to himself quite a few times and each time he’d ended up doing the opposite. The club, the picnic by the lake, it was endless, especially when he’d wanted more from the picnic date. His thoughts went back to the first night he ever met you and how things were so effortless. You made him laugh, made him think and lit a flame that had long been dormant, even Simone hadn’t lit that spark. When the sun rose and he saw you beside him he knew he wanted to see you again. Then Barbados happened and now thanks to Barbados the two of you were joined forever—through lives you’d created.

 He’d thought a lot over the last near three weeks and had spoken to his brother Kevin about things and he was grateful he and Kevin were so close. He’d given him some great advice and important insight, insight he needed from someone who really knew him away from the grind of Hollywood. He knew what he wanted, he just had to figure out how what he wanted fit into what you wanted.

 Honks brought him back to reality and the fact that traffic was finally moving. He maneuvered the rest of the drive in a little over fifteen minutes. When he pulled onto your street, he drove to the end of the cul-de-sac where your house sat. It was a quaint modernly built two-story home that seemed to suit you. He parked in the driveway behind your car and sat there for a few moments and tried to gain some perspective and control over her nervousness.

By the time he rang your bell, he’d sat in your driveway for over five minutes and he’d barely been able to calm himself down. This was out of character for him, he was normally so self-assured, so mellow. When you opened the door the scent of brown sugar, cinnamon and gardenia hit him first. Then his eyes took in how your stomach had popped out.

 “Hi.”

 He looked up to your face and took in your wide smile, a smile he couldn’t help but mirror.

 “Hi.

 “What in the world is all of that?” You nodded to his filled arms.

 “Uh, some of this and that.”

 “Come in. I’m not one hundred percent sure my neighbors aren’t gossips who love to spy.” He snorted and walked through the door inside. Without being told he began kicking off his shoes, then he turned to you. Your smile was wider.

 “What?”

 “Nothing, nothing.”

 He looked down to his feet where your eyes were.

 “I’m a black man and know the importance of taking shoes off when you go inside someone’s home.”

 You nodded and held up your thumbs and looked to his hands.

 “Want me to take anything?” He angled his side out to you, the side where he held a bouquet of flowers.

“Those.” You smiled and took the bouquet and smelled them.

 “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

 “Of course.” The look you gave him was a concealed one. He bet with time and familiarity he would be able to decipher it, but right now it left him a little confused.

 “Come, follow me to the kitchen.” You walked ahead and he trailed behind. His eyes roamed your figure, down the small of your back to the flare of your hips and down your legs. He was plenty acquainted with your curves without clothes, but in clothes, he liked even more.

 When you got into the kitchen you placed the flowers on the counter and that was where he placed the items he carried. “Ready to tell me what all this is?”

 “Well, every craving must be filled, so hot wings from this vegan southern place that is close to my house, they’re amazing. Ice-cream, a few different flavors, you looked like you could either be a vanilla, butterscotch, almond pistachio or cherry jubilee kind of woman so I brought them all. Also, no craving fulfillment is complete without those chocolate-covered strawberries. I called in a favor from someone I know over at Godiva and this is their largest order—seventy.”

 Your eyes were as big as the full moon he knew was shining in the night sky.

 “Oh, my goodness, Chad, you really didn’t have to do this.”

 “Oh, I know, I wanted to. It can’t be easy carrying a baby, let alone two and I wanted to show you that I care.” You flared your nose and pinched your lips, smiled and in a matter of seconds. the smile faded and turned into a frown before tears rolled down your cheeks. Confusion rushed through him and he just stood there unsure what to do.

 “Uh—I’m sorry, did I do something wrong? Say something—”

 “No, no. I’m sorry. I just—I don’t know what this is.”

 You walked away, ripped off a piece of paper towel and dabbed at your eyes and sniffled. He was afraid to move; he didn’t know if he would do something else that set you off.

 “I’m sorry. Oh my god, how embarrassing. We’re going to blame it on hormones. According to my doctor, I’m filled with enough for three women.”

 You took a deep breath and released it then looked at him with a smile on your face as if nothing had happened.

 “Are you sure you’re okay?”

 “I’m sure. Thank you for all of this. It’s very—sweet of you.”

 “You’re welcome.”

 “Oh my god, Netflix is waiting.” You made a move to take some of what he brought but he stopped you.

 “Just so you know, all of these are my favorites.” You brought the pints of ice cream to the freezer and put three in but held on to the pistachio almond.

 “Seems like a good place to start.”

 When the two of you got comfortable in the living room you scanned the TV for a movie while he opened the container of food.

 “Sci-Fi good?”

 “Oh, thank god, I thought you were going to put something on like The Notebook, or even The Best Man.”

 You laughed, then narrowed your eyes at him.

 “Look, just because I’m pregnant does not mean I want to watch some romantic tearjerker.”

 “I see and I am relieved.”

 You smiled at him and he skimmed your face. In the low lite and glow from the television, you looked good, happy.

 “Speaking of pregnant, you look it.”

 “Are you calling me fat?”

 “God no. no, no, no. not fat. Just the last time I saw you, I could barely tell. Now, you have a full-on belly.”

 “First of all, calm down. Second, yeah. I’m told I should expect to get bigger, carrying twins is no joke. My doctor says I’ll probably gain seventy pounds.”

 “Wow, seventy? I take it you’re not very happy with that.”

 You put a spoonful of ice cream in your mouth and shrugged. “I’ve put it into perspective, even come to terms with the fact that I’ll be in maternity wear in a week or two. It even got me thinking about incorporating a maternity line.”

 He chuckled. Every day you were growing even more pregnant and you were planning ways to increase your workload. Your determination and ambition were very attractive to him. He liked to know there was someone else like him, someone else just as hungry for success.

 “More work, not less I see.”

 “I have three and a halfish, four months to get it all out of my system.”

 The opening credits began and again silence fell between the two of you. He tried to focus on the movie and not you, but your movements always caught his eye. You ate the hot wings without a thought that he was beside you. After a few wings, you took a few spoonfuls of ice cream, then repeated the action. You looked perfectly content and he was happy for it. he was happy that things weren’t awkward between you especially given the state of things and all that had transpired between you. This was a great relief and it also assured him that his recent decision had the potential to work.

 The movie was not corny or low budget it was actually a well-done piece of science fiction and he enjoyed it. when the closing credits rolled you were sitting with your legs crossed in the couch, your hands nestled underneath the swell of your belly and your back leaned back which sent your breasts hoisted into the air. Unintentionally his eyes locked onto those breasts. They were bigger than he remembered, and he could see several veins protruding from underneath your mocha skin. Slowly his tongue darted across his lips wetting them, he was suddenly thirstier than ever. When he looked to your face your eyes were on him. He’d been caught. His immediate response was to apologize and avert his eyes, but he didn’t, instead, he held your gaze.

 “Sianna—”

 You reached out and took his hand and placed it on your stomach. As soon as he touched you he felt the flutters of kicks underneath his hand. Slowly his eyes widened as he looked at you, then they dropped to your belly.

 “Oh my god. Is that?” You nodded.

 “They’ve been very active today,” you said.

 He got closer; he’d never felt this before. With his friend when his wife was pregnant, he’d felt her stomach once or twice, but it wasn’t like this. This was completely different. He had no relation to her child, who was now his goddaughter. Right here, he had a relation, and he felt a connection. Slowly he slid off the couch and settled in front of you and placed his other hand to join the first and he just kept them there feeling not only the kicks but the energy of the babies—his babies. They felt strong. He felt their light and it was bright. They were meant for great things.

A smile spread across his face, then he looked to you.

 “How does it feel?”

 “At first it was strange, now—I’m starting to like it. sometimes I’ll forget what’s going on and then out of nowhere I get a kick and I’m right back to reality.”

 He smiled even more; he could picture you getting lost with work until they kicked.

 “Seems like they’re showing some personality already. They want to constantly be thought of.” You smiled at him and nodded.

 “They kick more when you talk. They must like your voice.”

 His smile was wide, toothy and completely genuine. Your smile faltered and a look of confusion washed over you. He wanted to know all your looks, wanted to know you so well that he was never confused again about how you felt, or what you were thinking.

 “I’ve been thinking a lot,” he began.

 “About what?”

 “About um—about this, the babies, you—us.”

 He felt like he’d never spoken to a woman in his life.

 “It was a lot to think over, and a lot to process and I couldn’t really—I’m sorry it took so long.”

 “Eh, it’s fine. You’re right it’s a lot. You needed the right amount of time. It’s not something to just jump into without knowing just what you’re jumping into.”

 He rubbed your belly again and got lost there.

 “I would like to be involved. I know neither of us planned this, and we probably would have not chosen to enter this like this. I know you wanted to be more established with your career and maybe married, and I would have liked to have dated you first, showed you who I am and why we’re perfect for each other and things like that but here we are. Backward and out of order don’t mean this is something unwelcomed. I’ve always wanted kids, and I want to be there for these babies in any capacity you’ll allow. I want to be there for you.”

 You bit your bottom lip and stared at him contemplatively. This look he kind of recognized, he’d seen it before, but it didn’t mean he knew what it meant.

 “You’re so quiet, I’m trying so hard to read you, but I can’t and it’s driving me crazy. What do you want?”

 “You.”

 His eyebrows shot up again. He hadn’t expected that.

 “I mean you to be involved. They are yours Chad, I didn’t make them alone and I don’t want to take you away from them. I don’t want them to not grow up having a father in their life. It hit me today that they may very well come out looking like you and it would be so meaningful for them to know they look like their father.”

 He nodded and smiled small. It was a thought he just thought of. He could have a son that looked like him, or a daughter with his nose, or eyes. It gave him a lite feeling. He looked back to you and decided he wanted his daughter to look like you.

 “We have to approach this right. You’re this huge star and I don’t want them to become tabloid fodder.”

 “I get that Sianna, I don’t want that either. I want to protect them from that, protect you.”

 The two of you stared again and spoke nonverbally. He wasn’t sure how the two of you were going to do this, but he knew he wanted a lot more than just being in the babies’ lives.

 “Sianna.”

 Taking a chance, he slipped the hem of your shirt above your navel and exposed your belly. He slowly caressed your skin and gawked at your beauty. It was something else to see you uncovered and nude, but to see you like this knowing you were carrying his children made him want you more than he’d ever wanted anything. He lowered his lips to your burgeoning belly and kissed your bump once, twice and a third.

 He softly placed his forehead onto your belly and closed his eyes and tried to connect with the two lives inside you. Your hand touched his jaw and tipped his face to meet yours. You bit your bottom lip, uncrossed your legs and slid off the edge of the couch and down onto his lap. Your belly was pressed to him, but his eyes were glued to yours. He brought his hand to your cheek and softly grazed your skin. You closed your eyes and nuzzled your cheek in his palm.

 “Chad.” It was a whisper, but it made his entire being rumble. His other hand gripped your hip and squeezed. “Sianna, I want to be involved with them, but I want to be in your life too, not just theirs. I want you to be in my life, not just as my children’s mother, but—more.”

 He heard your gulp, but you didn’t move. Your eyes looked unsure but your hand on his shoulder didn’t seem unsure. It moved higher to his neck and back to his jaw where you toyed with his beard.

 “What do you want? Do you want me involved, like really involved?”

 “Yes, Chad.”

 “Do you only want me in their lives? Do you want me in yours?”

 You bit your bottom lip and he couldn’t anymore.  He had to touch them. He quickly closed the gap between you and pressed his lips to yours. Neither of you moved, you just stayed there with your lips touching, it was as if you both were feeling it out. Your lips were the first to move against his and he reciprocated and softly kissed you. It began slow and exploratory but transitioned easily until the passion he’d always felt for you took over. He moaned onto your lips and you echoed the same moan as you latched your fingers behind his neck holding his head in place as you took over the kiss.

 You began rocking back and forth on his lap and he couldn’t help but grab your ass and squeeze. You bit his bottom lip and pulled back and groaned. “Fuck.”

 He smiled and made a move to kiss you again, but you pressed the tips of your fingers to his lips, stopping him.

 “Chad wait. Mmm.”

 “What’s wrong?”

 “Don’t you think this is too much?”

 “Too much?”

 “Yeah, the babies, and whatever is happening here between us. Don’t you think we should focus on one of those and make the babies a priority?”

 “Why can’t we do both?”

 “What if we rock the boat and fall out again and it jeopardizes your relationship with them or our ability to effectively co-parent.”

 He was hopeful before but with every word you spoke, that hope slowly faltered.

 “So—so you don’t want me?”

You didn’t look like you knew what you wanted. As soon as he recognized that disappointment filled him. Maybe it was too late. Maybe he’d blown it.

 “Chad—I just—I want to do the best for the babies. I don’t want to ruin things anymore.”

 “What if we don’t ruin anything Sianna? What if we finally give in to everything we’ve wanted since the day we met in Jamaica?”

 “It was sex--,” you began before he cut you off.

 “It was never about the sex and I’m convinced you know that by now. You have to.”

 He cupped your cheeks and swiped his thumb across your bottom lip.

 “I do want you Chad.” He smiled and pulled you closer.

 “Then let me have you, Sianna. Haven’t we wasted enough time?”

 “Sometimes we have to give up what we want to do what’s right—what’s best,” you theorized.

 He studied your face trying to figure out if you really meant that.

 “You don’t really mean that Sianna.”

 You looked down and rested your forehead against his. Your eyes closed and a few seconds later he felt the kicks of the babies against him. Neither of you moved for several long moments. When the kicks died down and all was silent and still again you sighed out.

 “I do mean it. You should go.”

 It was like a kick in the balls and a punch to the gut all at once. You lifted yourself off him and walked across the room leaving him to sit there for a little longer. After letting the words sink in, he stood and looked to you. Your back was turned to him as you stared out the window before you walked out of the room toward the front door. When he joined you in the foyer you had the door open. He nodded and walked out onto your front steps and stopped.

 “Sianna.” He turned to face you resolved in the conviction he felt for what he was about to say.

 “It doesn’t matter what happens between us. Nothing could ever come between me being there for them one hundred percent. Nothing could jeopardize my relationship with those babies, nothing.”

 Once the words were out, he walked away to his car and pulled out without looking back to you standing on the porch. He was filled with so many emotions he didn’t know which to focus on. One thing was paramount, he was going to be a father.   

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[myhockeyworld87]

Nervous Regrets - Tyler Seguin - Part 9

Word Count: 4708

POV: Reader

Warning: Hmmm I may have not used a curse word, but I can’t be sure...haha!

Notes: Sorry this took so long to post. I was hoping to get more writing done this weekend, but it didn’t happen. Then the internet was down most of today because of a storm. At any rate, here’s part 9, the one where you tell your parents. Enjoy!

The trip down to your parent’s was completely uneventful; Tyler and you chatted about nothing of consequence for most of the ride. A sense of déjà vu hit you, this was your little ritual at times with Tyler; chatting essentially about nothing when he was on the road until he would have to get ready for the game. It was fairly easy to fall back into old habits with him; though you prayed some habits would be broken.

 Turning onto the street where you grew up, your stomach got queasy; however it had nothing to do with the baby. An overwhelming sense of dread hit you that you were finally going to have to tell your parents everything that had happened in the last few weeks; well, not everything, some things were better left unsaid. They could be demanding at times, more so your mom than your dad. It seemed as though she always sought perfection in each of her children; that she couldn’t see that your imperfections were what made you unique, was a struggle in your relationship. You were sure that she’d see your reconnection with Tyler as one of the biggest mistakes of your life; praying, you hoped she wouldn’t see the baby that way as well.

 Pulling into the drive you took a deep breath and gathered your courage. Grabbing your bag, striding through the front door, you said, “Hello, it’s your favorite daughter.” Technically you were their only daughter; so by default you were their favorite. Rushing from the kitchen, they came out to greet with hugs.

“You made great time,” this from your dad as he led the way back to the kitchen. “We’ve got your favorites in the oven for dinner.”

 “It smells delicious.”

 Busying herself cleaning up dishes that were dirty from food prep, your mom added, “You’re looking more yourself this time. Things must be going well with Robert.”

 Leave it to mom, to just get right down to the nitty gritty; if she only knew the real Robert. “We’re not seeing each other anymore.”

 “Really? I thought he was so nice, and from such a good family. Didn’t you two go out last weekend?”

 Questions never ended with her, and it seemed as though she remembered every insignificant detail that you’d ever told. “It just wasn’t meant to be mom.”

 “Can’t you see she doesn’t want to talk about it.”

 “Thanks dad. So how have things been here? The big bad world of investment banking treating you well dad?” He always thought daddy’s little girl could do no wrong; hopefully he’d still be thinking that in a few hours.

 “Works been great. We just won another trip.”

 “Excellent, where are you off to now?” The investment banking business had been good to your family; affording them many luxuries in life. A nice home, financial stability and adventurous vacations were just some of the benefits your family had received from your dad’s hard work.

 “Your father is in his glory with this trip, they’re sending us on an Alaskan cruise.”

 “Oh wow, that sounds amazing. Are you going to go fishing up there?” It was one of the interest both he and Tyler shared; they would spend endless hours chatting about what flies and lures to use. It all seemed a little mundane to you.

 “I’m hoping to. There’s a couple guys on the trip that want to take a float plane in and do some fly fishing.”

 “Oh, Ty….” Shit you were almost going to say Tyler would love that but quickly you caught yourself. Coughing hoping to cover up the slip; you went and grabbed a water out of the fridge. “Sorry, throat’s a little dry from the drive, but that sounds amazing.” The timer went off on the stove; you were literally saved by the bell from having to answer anything more.

 Dinner went well, you caught them up on what was going on with work, and things that were happening with your friends; that you kept leaving out the most important information, wasn’t by accident. There was never going to be a right time. So as you loaded the last of the plates into the dishwasher; you decided there was no time like the present. Sitting back down at the table, feeling your heart beat fast, you started. “So, I’ve kind of have some big news to tell you.” Preparing both you and them; you paused briefly. “It’s kind of complicated…and well….I didn’t expect it at all.” Ugh you were no good at this, maybe you should start again. “Anyhow, I ran into Tyler; and we’ve been talking. We’re getting back together.”

 “OH (Y/N), you’ve got to be kidding me.” There was disapproval dripping from your mother’s voice. “After everything that he did, how can you even contemplate taking him back.” Your dad remained silent.

 “Well there’s actually more.”  It was kind of like ripping off a bandage, you were either the type of person to take it off nice and slow, or one that ripped it off all at once; all at once was your choice at the moment. “So I’m pregnant, and before you ask its Tyler’s. And yes, it’s part of the reason we are getting back together, but it’s not the whole reason. I love him. I never stopped loving him and I just want the best for all of us. And he’s really trying, I think this time things will be different.”

 “Don’t you know once a cheater, always a cheater?” Your mother would focus on that as the most important part of anything you’d just said.

 “People can change mom. Is that how you feel about Sean? Because I believe he was the one who cheated on Kristen. Are you saying that he’ll do it on Jessica as well?” It wasn’t right throwing your brother under the bus when he wasn’t even here to defend himself; however, his first marriage had ended because he’d cheated on his ex-wife. That it was with his current wife shouldn’t matter.

 “You know that’s different.”

 “Is it? I don’t think so mom. It’s only different because Sean is your son. But look he’s been married to Jessica now for five years and things are great with them. I don’t think he’d ever cheat on her. But even if he did, if they love each other can’t they both find a way to work through it.”

 “She does have a point.” This from your dad as he watched the exchange between you too. “But I think you’re missing the point here dear. Our daughter just told us she’s having a baby.” He grabbed your hand then and gave it a gentle squeeze; tears started to well in your eyes. Inhaling deeply you closed your eyes willing them not to slip out; the last thing you needed to show your parents now was weakness.

 “You’re making a horrible mistake.”

 It was all you let your mother say, “My child is not a mistake mother. I will never look at him or her like that. I love Tyler and I love our baby. So please do not say that again.”

 “I meant you taking Tyler back is a mistake, not the…” She waved her hands motioning to your belly, as if the word baby had too many syllables in it and she couldn’t get them out. You knew this wouldn’t be easy, but you didn’t expect her to be so negative about your pregnancy.

 Growing up you’d constantly butted heads with your mother; in the last few years you’d thought that rift had mended. Though right now it was as if foreshocks were coming across a fault line; preparing you for an earthquake bigger than any that had happened before. “It’s a baby mom, you can say the word.”

 “Yes I know what it is. I just don’t feel that you are going about this the right way.”

 “And what’s the right way? Don’t you think I would’ve loved to have been married before I was pregnant? Because I would, but sometimes things don’t go the way we envision it.” A tear slid down your cheek, angrily you wiped it away; hating the way you always cried even when you were frustrated.

 “Is this why you broke up with Robert?”

 That was it, you snapped. “Fuck, Robert mom. He’s nothing but a self-absorbed child that forces himself on people when he doesn’t get what he wants. He has absolutely nothing to do with this. This is about my baby, the one I’m having with Tyler. If you can’t get that through your head, then that’s your problem.” Shoving yourself out of the chair you stood up, anger emanating off of you. “I knew this would be hard for you, but you’ve either got to learn to accept that Tyler is in my life or I don’t need to be in yours. Do you understand me?” Silence ensued, neither one of your parents saying a word. Shaking from the encounter; this was the first time you’d been this forceful with your parents. “I need some air.” Grabbing your purse, you headed out the door straight to your car.

 Pulling out of the driveway, you tried to calm your nerves. In your teenage years, after certain rows with your mom; you’d often just go for a drive. Coming back things always looked clearer; you weren’t so sure this time. Aimlessly you drove around, no real destination in mind; until you found yourself parked in front of your brother Matt’s home. Matt was always the voice of reason growing up; he’d put out more fires between you and your mom than you could recall. You’d often joke that he was her favorite; even though he was the middle child. His front door opened, long strides had him standing by your car in no time.

 “Hey brat, are you going to sit in the car all night or are you coming in?”

 “Are my favorite kiddos in the world here?” Matt had two little ones, a girl and a boy, Rylynn and Reese; they were by far one of the best reasons for coming home.

 “Nah, Melissa took them to get ice cream. She thought maybe we’d need some time to talk.” Giving him a quizzical side eye; he answered you before you could even give voice to your thoughts. “Dad text me, and said you and mom had it out.”

 “Did he say anything else?”

 “Nope, I was hoping you’d fill me in.” Getting out of the car, you followed him into the house. Strewn across the floor were dozen of toys, but instead of looking unkempt; it looked homey and inviting. Your mind conjured a time when your home with Tyler would look the same, only with three dogs milling around as well.

 Sitting at the kitchen island, you sighed heavily. “Where do I start?”

 “How about the beginning?”

 “Well….Tyler and I are back together.” Matt, god bless him, didn’t say anything; just raised his eyes slightly. “I know. We’re working things out. Not gonna lie, I don’t trust him one hundred percent, yet. That’s going to take time, but I love him Matt. I’ve always loved him.”

 When you didn’t say anything more, he added, “So mom’s pissed about that huh?”

 “Wait…there’s more.” Eyebrows going up further this time, “I’m pregnant.”

 “Oh…wow…ok.” He took a moment, regathering himself. “Congratulations little sis. You’re going to be a great mom.” The dam let loose, a flood of tears just coming out of your eyes; Matt came over grabbing you in a hug, as you sobbed. This is what you needed, that one person that believed in you; had faith that you were making the right decision.

 Getting your emotions under control, you pulled back; looking up at your brother, you hiccupped out a “Thank you.” Why couldn’t your parents be like this; well correction really your mom. Your dad really didn’t get a chance to voice his opinion.

 “Look sis, I’m gonna give it to you straight ok?” If there was one thing about your brother, it was that he never pulled any punches; but sometimes it was better to just take your medicine without sugar coating it. “Mom’s always been tougher on you. I have a few guesses as to why, but that’s for another conversation. Essentially, she only wants the best for you, for all of us really. I don’t think you know how hard it was for her to watch you go through the shit you went through with Tyler. Look at it from her point of view once; you’re going to be a mom now. What if your baby is a little girl and her boyfriend cheated on her; now take it one step further and watch her go through it in a public scandal. How would you feel?” He paused letting his words sink into your brain. “I know how I’d feel if it was Rylynn. It would be really hard to hear that she’s getting back together with him; and having his baby. You need to give her time; she’ll come around.”

 Why did your brother always have to make so much sense; he seemed to have a way of putting things so that you could see it from your mother’s side. You’d only known you were pregnant for four weeks now, and you already loved your child so much, that you would do anything for him or her; now multiply that love by twenty some years. Going through your own heart ache is one thing; watching someone you love go through it, and not be able to help, that pain would be gut wrenching. “I see your point. Maybe I’m being a tad unreasonable. It’s just…”

 Cutting you off, before you could say anything more; “I know you love him, and you’re right; mom can be irrational about these things. Ultimately, it’s your life (Y/N), and she has to let you live it; and she will. But like all of us, she’s going to be leery of him for a while. I’m telling you right now, if he does something stupid again; I’ll beat the fucking shit out of him.”

 Smiling at that, you knew your brother would defend you within an inch of his own life. Truth was he could whip Tyler’s ass with one had tied behind his back. Matt had been a state champion wrestler in high school, as well as running back for the football team; he’d maintained that physical robustness even years after graduating. While he’d never been one to go looking for a fight; he could hold his own with some of the best.  “I’m banking on you not having to go that far, but thanks for the offer. Thanks for everything, you always know just what to say.”

 “I’ve got your back sis, not matter what; even if it comes down between you and mom on this one. Which it won’t. Now please tell me how all this went down, to my knowledge you haven’t seen Tyler, for what three months?” When you nodded your head, he continued. “So, you’re what thirteen or fourteen weeks pregnant? Have you known that long and seriously not said something to your favorite brother?”

 Spending the next thirty minutes, you filled Matt in on everything that went down. That was until four little feet came running through the door; both yelling for your attention, which you happily gave them. At ages three and five they were full of energy but also full of love. The three of you played with all the toys in the family room for the next hour; while Matt, you assumed, filled Melissa in on everything. Helping Melissa with their bath time ritual, you thought about bathing your own little one soon. The three of you then snuggled into the couch and watched the Stars play for a bit before bedtime. In no time the two of them were asleep; you always had that light tickle touch and would rub their little backs, putting them right to sleep. Matt carried them upstairs as you finished watching the game; the Stars falling to the Blues. Tyler had played well but you knew he’d beat himself up about the loss.

 Matt came back downstairs then, “I put the kids in Reese’s room, so you can have Rylynn’s bed. I also took the liberty of texting dad and telling him you’ll be back over in the morning.” He really was the sweetest brother in the whole world.

 “Thanks, but all my stuff is at their house.”

 “It’s one night, you can just borrow something of mine to sleep in.” This from Melissa as she was picking up the stray toys on the floor; getting up you helped her. “So now that the kiddos are asleep, tell me how you’re feeling? Is the nausea gone? Because it seemed like mine lasted the whole pregnancy.”

 “I’ve been pretty good lately. The PA we saw this week, wants me to gain more weight, which I’m trying.”

 “Oh, don’t worry about that. It seemed like I ballooned out and wasn’t even trying. It’ll happen. Are you going to find out if you’re having a boy or a girl?”

 “Well as you know we (Y/LN)’s like surprises in life. So nope, we aren’t finding out.”

 “See I told you Melissa, you can’t ruin the only one true surprise of life.”

 “Ugh…I really wanted to know, and this one right here wasn’t having any of it. I think I heard that no true surprise in life thing, until I was going to puke; which sometimes I did.” Laughing she went over to Matt. “But honestly it was the best moment, when the doctor’s like you have a little boy or girl, since we got both.” Matt and Melissa were amazing parents; you could only hope you and Tyler would be just as good. “Come up and I’ll give you some clothes to sleep in and stuff. I’m sure you’re exhausted from the day.”

 “Yeah I kind of am, but I’m trying to stay awake to talk to Tyler for a bit.”

 Walking into Matt and Melissa’s bedroom, she asked, “So how is that going? Are you happy?”

 “I am and I think Tyler has really changed. I know he loves me and the baby. I think we can make this work. I just hope that eventually everyone will accept him again.” Even after your conversation with Matt, you still had doubts in the back of your head about your mom coming to grips with the whole situation.

 “Everything will be fine, you’ll see. Especially after that little one is born. You know, you can call me with any questions about being pregnant or babies. I know I asked my sister a ton of questions when I was pregnant.”

 You’re brother had the best wife ever; Melissa was sweet, kind and an excellent mom. “Thanks, I’m sure I’ll be taking you up on that.” Handing you some pajamas, you made your way to the bathroom to change; then said a quick good night to Matt and Melissa. Putting your phone on vibrate, you laid in bed waiting for Tyler to call. The walls were covered in a light shade of pink; Disney princesses scattered here and there. It was perfect for a little girl; and had you dreaming of what you wanted to do your baby’s room in.

 The phone buzzed then, “Hey you, sorry about the game, thought you guys were going to pull it out there in the end.”

 “Yeah, it wasn’t one of our best, that’s for sure.” Tyler’s voice carried a hint of disappointment; that seemed to melt away with his next comment. “How are my babies doing?”

 “We’re good. Just fighting off sleep so I can talk to you.”

 “So how’d it go today with telling your parents?”

 “You don’t want to know. Let’s just say, I’m staying at Matt’s tonight.”

 “That bad huh?”

 Your mind drifted back to your argument with your mom; you debated on how much to tell Tyler. “Well there was no congratulations going around that was for sure. I didn’t think it would be easy, but I didn’t expect it this bad either. Though Matt has been a god send. I’m going to go over tomorrow, with a new perspective; and hopefully things will be better.”

 “Look (Y/N), I know I’ve got a lot of repair work to do with your family; probably more than I do with you. But I’m going to show them, that they couldn’t ask for a better man for their daughter and sister, than me. They’ll come around in time I’m sure.”

 “I know you’ll do everything you can Ty, but you’re right it will take a little time. But we’ve got that.” Hopefully you could mend some of the rift tomorrow; which would help shave off some of that time.

 “Have you been eating?”

 Ever your personal trainer in baby weight gain, Tyler would ask that question. “Of course I did. Plus the kids brought me ice cream.”

 “How are those two munchkins?”

 “They’re great. They were excited to see you play. Reese even wore his Stars pajamas to bed tonight. I know they’re excited to see you.” Their sweet innocence had protected them against all the negative criticism directed towards their Uncle Ty, as they referred to him; they still loved and missed him being around.

 “Awww that’s sweet, I can’t wait to see them.” He yawned, which in turned made you do the same; both of you exhausted from the day. “You know I could talk to you all night, but I should probably let you get some sleep.”

 “Yeah, I think we’re both pretty tired. Call me tomorrow when you land?”

 “Of course babe. Get some rest and good luck tomorrow. I love you.”

 “I love you too. Sleep well.”

 With that you hung up the phone and drifted off into a dreamless sleep; not waking up until streams of light came streaking through the window. Rolling over checking your phone for the time, you found that it was just shy of eight. Willing yourself to have a positive attitude for the day; you got up. Voices floated upstairs; you knew the kids were up. It was one in particular that caught your attention; distinctly you recognized the laugh as your mom’s. Well there was no time like the present; so, you glided down the stairs making your presence known.

 “Morning,” you greeted the group.

 Two little forms came hurling at you, “Aunt (Y/N) you’re awake, yay!!” Embracing them in a big group hug, you kissed them both on the head; drawing strength from their exuberance.

 Slowly you made your way over to your mom, who remained at the kitchen table as you drew near. “Alright kiddos, time to get ready for school.” Melissa ushered the kids upstairs quickly, giving you some privacy; Matt trailing after her, mouthing the words, good luck.

 Deciding to break the ice first, you said, “Hi mom.” Awkwardly you sat down next to her. “Look I’m really….” She halted anything else you were going to say by putting her hand up.

 “Please don’t say anything else. Look I thought a lot about our conversation yesterday, and I’m sorry. I didn’t handle myself or the situation very well.” Blinking, had your mother actually apologized; it had to be the first time that ever happened. “You’re a grown woman now, and I sometimes forget that; because you’re always going to be my baby girl. I just love you so much and only want the best for you and if that includes Tyler; then I am one hundred percent behind you.” There were tears welling in both of your eyes. “I just can’t believe my baby is going to have a baby. I’m so happy for you sweetie, I really am.”

 With that she stood up and just enveloped you in her arms; both of you crying happy tears. “Thanks mom, I’m so sorry about yesterday too.”

 “Shhh. I don’t want to hear anything about that; we’re just going to put it all behind us.” Holding you at her arm’s length, she continued; “Now, tell me everything. Well wait let’s go grab breakfast somewhere; I know your brother has to get off to work and such.” Gathering your stuff you headed out with your mom to fill her in.

 The next twenty-four hours were like a whirlwind. During the day you and your mom gallivanted throughout town; stopping for pedicures and manicures and just doing mother daughter things. You spoke to Tyler for a spell as well; then the family headed out for dinner. On Saturday, your brother Sean and his wife, Jessica, headed up from Houston for a family get together. The day was full of joy and laughter, as you chased the kids around the lawn and reminisced with your family about all the memorable times you’d had; as well as the new ones that you were going to make.

 Busying yourself in the kitchen, since your dad had requested one of your famous homemade cakes; you hunted around for an extra bag of flour. “Mom, I can’t seem to find the flour. Did you move it or something?”

 “Damn, I think I forgot to buy that the last time I was at the store.”

 “That’s why you always take a list dear.” This from your dad, as he stole a piece of fruit from the bowl you’d been cutting up.

 Playfully you smacked your dad’s hand, scolding him; “You know I won’t have enough for the cake if you keep eating it. I’ll just run to the store and go get some.”

 “I’ll come with you.” Your brother Sean piped in; not having a chance to really get a one on one conversation with you since he’d learned about everything. “But I’m driving, you’re a horrible driver, sis.”

 “Oh really? I’m not the one with three speeding tickets, mister lead foot.”

 Taking his hand he clamped it over your mouth, “Shhh, mom doesn’t know about those.”

 Whispering low, “Seriously, you’re afraid to tell mom about that.”

 “What can I say?” Giving him a sympathetic look; for you knew exactly where he was coming from. “Toss me your keys, your cars at the end of the driveway.” Getting in the car, the two of you headed to the store. “So, how are you doing, I mean with everything? It’s got to be a lot.”

 “Yeah, it is; but I’m really happy. Tyler’s been pretty great about everything.” He glanced at you questioningly. “I know, it’s kind of hard to believe; but he’s really trying. I didn’t say anything to anyone yet, but he bought us a new house. He told me yesterday that the seller’s accepted our bid.”

 “Woah, that’s big; so obviously you’ve moved back in with him.” “Not yet, but once the papers are finalized; I’ll move into the new house with him.” The excitement in Tyler’s voice yesterday, was contagious; and had you just as thrilled to move into your new home together. “I’m looking at it as a fresh start for us.”

 “That’s great sis. I’m happy for you.” The light was red, turning over to look at you, he become all serious. “I can’t believe you’re going to be a mom. You know you’re always going to be my pesky little sister though; who I’d do anything for. So if you ever need anything, anything at all I’m here. All you have to do is say the word.”

 Pregnancy hormones really sucked; you seemed to be a weepy mess all the time. Looking over at your brother, eyes shining with tears; you loved your family so much that sometimes it just couldn’t be put into words. The light changed then and you proceeded through the intersection. That’s when you saw it; a car barreling towards you. “Sean look out!” It was the last thing you said; hands went instinctively around your mid-section to protect the baby from the impact. Please God let us all be ok; it was the last thing you thought, as your head smacked the passenger window and everything went completely black.

Side Note: Please don’t threaten to punch me in the face like one of my best friend’s did after reading this...hahah! Peace, love and hugs y’all!!!!

[winchester-purgatory]

Holiday guests | Dean Winchester (Part 3)

Sunday, December 23rd

Waking up to the smell of breakfast - eggs and bacon, to be precise - was unusual for Dean.

When they were kids, John would make efforts to cook his sons breakfast, either toasts or cereals, but now that his boys were grown ups, he didn’t bother trying. So, if Dean wanted breakfast, he’d have to prepare it himself. Most of the days, it resulted in a large cup of coffee.

Expecting to see Sam behind the stove, cooking some disgustingly healthy breakfast, the blond was met by a much shorter and red-er haired lady. She was taking a sip from her coffee while watching the sizzling eggs in the pan.

Dean’s lips curved a bit, memories rolling in. The scene reminded him of when they first met at Sam’s tiny apartment in Palo Alto. He had crashed on his brother’s couch and woke up to the redhead shattering a plate on Sam’s floor. Her long ginger hair and bare legs peeking from the oversized tee shirt will forever be engraved in Dean’s memory. She was a sight for sore eyes.

‘’Morning,’’ Dean said, breaking the silence.

Juliet jumped, startled by his hoarse morning voice. She turned around and pulled her eyebrows. ‘’Dean? What are you doing up before eleven? Did you become a morning person?’’

He huffed a laugh, walking further into the kitchen. ‘’Work,’’ the blond explained. ‘’Did you make coffee?’’

Juliet nodded. ‘’Help yourself. I’m making eggs. Want some?’’

As tempting as Juliet’s offer was, Dean had to decline. That breakfast smelled delicious though… And, there was bacon - Dean’s favorite beside pie - waiting to be cooked on the counter.

‘’Wish I could say yes, but I need to leave in five minutes.’’

‘’Wait, we’re Sunday?’’ the redhead realized, a frown between her eyebrows. ‘’You work on a Sunday?’’

‘’Yeah. The auto shop is closed, but I do towing on the weekends. Someone has to go and help those idiots who can’t handle the snow and slippery roads and got themselves stuck in a snow bank or the roadside.’’

Juliet chuckled. ‘’I agree.’’

Dean brought the hot cup of coffee to his lips and hummed. ‘’Damn , this coffee is good. Like, better than usual. What did you do to it?’’

‘’Ah! That’s a secret for me to keep,’’ she replied, a grin on her lips before returning to the stove, placing some eggs on a plate for herself.

Dean watched her as she moved around the kitchen. God, she was so beautiful. After not seeing her in two years, he had almost forgotten how much of a natural beauty Juliet was.  From where he was, he could see the freckles on her cheeks and nose, and the scar above her cheekbone. It was lighter than it used to be, faded from time.

‘’Well, I should get going.’’

‘’See you tonight, Dean.’’

.

Helping idiots out of snow banks and hoisting them on the towing was exhausting. Especially in winter. But, the more exhausting part wasn't the towing though, it was the owners of the towed car and that Dean had to take with him. Most were annoying and overly talkative - which quickly got on Dean's nerves. He was tempted more than once to dump them on the side of the road, but he'd get fired for it.

His first client was a middle aged woman who didn't have winter tires on her car. When Dean arrived on the scene and realized that, he wasn't surprised that she slipped on black ice and hit the road's borders. It's the middle of December and snowing like crazy. How can you expect to have full control of your car during a heavy snow and icy roads without winter tires? Idiots' logic like her made no sense to Dean. He has helped so many idiots of the same genre since the start of winter that he stopped counting.

For his second client, Dean was lucky and fell on someone he got along pretty well. The man had accidently hit a wild animal on his way home and, although the animal had run away, uninjured, the car's engine wouldn't start back on after the hit.

''It's an old car. I'm not surprised,'' the man, Benny, said as Dean turned on the towing truck, ready to leave the scene. ''It's not the first time it happens. Not that I purposely hit wild animals. They just love my car, I guess.''

''This road is prone to that. My dad used to be a ranger and he would get calls all the time to say deers were on the road,’’ Dean explained.

''You're from around here?''

Dean nodded. ''Lawrence, Kansas, born and raised, baby.'' He flashed Benny a proud smile. ‘’And you?’’

‘’I just moved her three months ago. I’m originally from San Jose.’’

‘’San Jose?’’ the blond repeated. ‘’Wow. That’s quite a big change of scenery.’’

‘’Yeah… My wife and I needed some change. We found a small house we liked in Lawrence and bought it on a whim. Most will say it’s kinda crazy, but it’s gonna be perfect to raise kids.’’

The conversation carried on as Dean drove, sharing his knowledge on the best burger places in town and where to not get beer after a long week of work. It was very important information for new-comers.

A familiar tunes came on the radio and Dean’s hands crisped on the steering wheel, trying to wash away the incoming flashback of him and Juliet singing to this exact song in his car during his stay in Palo Alto. Her sparkling eyes and red hair flowing from the wind and speed the car was going at.

He reached to turn it off, making his passenger raise an eyebrow.

''You're not a fan of classic rock?'' Benny asked.

Dean shook his head. ‘’I do. Just...old memories.’’

The elder man hummed. ‘’Past girlfriend, I’m guessing.’’

Dean flashed him a tight lipped smile. ‘’We can say that.’’

.

For dinner, John asked Dean to pick up burgers on the way home. What screamed more Winchester tradition than a good old burger for dinner? Add a beer and you have the perfect combo.

‘’The food is here!’’ Dean called as he walked in, carrying a brown paper bag holding everyone’s orders.

He shrugged off his winter layers and dove into the bag to grab his burger, taking a bite before even sitting down. He hummed, chewing his bite.

Sam came around to the table, Juliet following behind. ‘’Nice of you to wait for us.’’

Dean shrugged, unbothered. ‘’I was too hungry. I’ve been working all day, unlike you.’’

Sam rolled his eyes and sat down. ‘’Can you pass the bag, please?’’ Dean handed it to his brother but moved it away before Sam could grab it, laughing at his own childish behavior. Sam rolled his eyes. ‘’Dean.’’

‘’Where's Dad?’’ Dean asked, not seeing him around.

‘’He went to Bobby’s. He should be back soon,’’ Sam replied.

Dean hummed and reached into the bag. ‘’For the ladies,’’ he said, handing the last two burgers to Juliet and Sam.

Juliet took the burger from him. ‘’Thank you.’’

Dean smiled at her and pulled out his side of fry, frowning when he saw a lonely salad at the bottom. ‘’A salad? Who ordered a salad?’’

‘’Me,’’ Sam replied, this time taking the bag from his brother. ‘’You should try it some time. I’m sure it’ll be better for your cholesterol.’’

Dean scoffed, taking a couple fries and shoving them into his mouth. ‘’Salad is rabbit food. And, for your concerns, my cholesterol is just fine.’’

Juliet held her laugh, amused by the brothers' antics, and reached over the table and stole a fry from Dean.

.

It was almost midnight when Dean left his bedroom for a late snack, the burger and fries he had for dinner long gone from his stomach, to satisfy his late hunger before bed.

He walked down the hallway, thinking about the cereal bowl he was about to eat, and stopped in his tracks when he saw a figure in the living room. At first, he assumed it was his dad who had fallen asleep in his lazy-boy chair, but the quiet sobs told Dean it wasn’t John.

‘’Juliet?’’

‘’Fuck. Can’t you knock?’’ she hissed, turning her back from Dean.

‘’Sorry. I was on my way to get a snack and I- You okay?’’ He knew it was a stupid question to ask - she obviously was not okay -, but he had to ask. Give her an open door, in case she felt like talking.

‘’I’m crying in my best friend’s living room in the middle of the night, what do you think?’’ She shook her head. ''I'm not okay. I'm pretty far from okay.''

Just her luck, Dean wasn’t good with emotions and feelings. He's never been. He’s not good at comforting people either - the two go hand in hand -, but he couldn't let Juliet bath in her sadness. Seeing her cry like that was painful to watch.

Dean sat on the couch beside her, her quiet sobs tugging at his heart. ''Wanna talk about it?'' he offered tentatively. Maybe he won't know what to say to make her feel better, but he could always listen.

''You remember Damien?''

The elder Winchester tensed at the mention of Juliet's asshole ex-boyfriend.

''Well, I lied. Partially. I did break up with him, but he came to the café last week and caused a scene. He started yelling and-''

''Did he touch you?'' Dean interrupted, feeling his blood boil at the mere idea of this guy's dirty hands on Juliet. Damien had hurt her in the past, he certainly could do it again. Dean remembered the colorful bruise on her cheek when he visited Sam a couple years ago. It wasn't pretty.

She shook her head.

Dean sighed in relief. Good thing.

''Ben, a guy from the kitchen, got him to leave - bless him -, but I knew it wasn't over. It never is with Damien. After my shift at the café, I was too scared to go home and be by myself. I kept asking myself: what if he came here, you know? So, I went to Sam's. I've been staying at his place since that night. I didn't tell Sam what happened, he still doesn't know and I don't plan on telling him about the café incident. You know him, he'll want me to get a restraining order against Damien.''

‘’Wouldn’t be a good thing? A restraining order?’’

Juliet scoffed. ‘’It wouldn’t serve anything. It’s Damien. He doesn't care about laws and that kind of stuff. A piece of paper won’t keep him away from me. He’ll always find a way.’’

Dean had to fight the envy to go to California and kick his ass. Maybe then he’ll finally get the message and leave Juliet alone.

‘’I got a text from him today. Minutes ago, actually. He trashed my whole apartment. My landlord is going to kill me. I’m going to have to pay for all the damages fees. I’m going to have to find a new place too which is going to be difficult because they are going to call my old landlord and he’s gonna give me a bad note.’’

‘’Why don’t you stay with my brother a bit longer?’’

Juliet shook her head. ‘’I can’t invade his space forever. And, in case you forgot, Sam’s apartment is tiny.’’

He’ll give her that. There was just enough for a bed, couch and desk in that apartment. It’s so cramped. Two people couldn’t cohabit there, especially with Sam’s tall frame.

‘’I don’t know what I’m going to do. I-’’

Juliet’s tears started flowing again and, this time, Dean pulled the redhead into him. For a  moment, he thought he did a wrong move, that maybe he shouldn’t have done that, but Juliet responded instantly, wrapping her arm around his neck as his large hands rubbed up and down her back.

She cried into Dean’s chest, soaking his shirt, and Dean held her tighter, hating to see Juliet crying because of that guy. It wasn't the first time Dean confronted her following something Damien did.

After a few minutes, Juliet's tears slowed down and she pulled away from Dean, noticing the huge stain on his grey shirt. ''Sorry. I ruined your shirt...'' she pointed, wiping the remaining tears on her face with the back of her hands.

Dean shook his head. Fuck his shirt. It's just tears. ''Don't worry about it. It's just a shirt.''

‘’I’m such an idiot. This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have taken him back in the first place-’’

‘’Hey. You’re not an idiot, okay? You take dumb decisions, it’s all.’’

Juliet chuckled slightly, allowing herself to be distracted from her issues for a few seconds. ‘’I go home in three days. What am I gonna do? I wish Charlie was here…’’

‘’Let’s go for a ride.’’

Juliet looked at him as if he was crazy. ‘’It’s past midnight in the middle of winter. We can’t just go for a ride, Dean.’’

The latter shrugged, seeing no problems. ‘’So? Put on your boots and jacket and let’s go. Snow’s not gonna eat us, you now?’’

‘’I don’t know… It’s snowing a lot and the roads must be icy.’’

‘’We’ll take the truck if it makes you feel safer. Come on.’’ Dean nodded his head in the direction of the door.

‘’Driving around always helps me clear my head,’’ the blond explained. ‘’We can even stop for a midnight snack if there’s anything open on our way.’’

.

Still in their pajamas, Dean drove around Lawrence, soft rock music playing as Juliet watching the large snowflakes sticking to the truck's window. A bag of half finished chips rested on her lap, munching on it every now and then.  Sometimes, she'd hum to the music, making Dean smile and wish the Damien drama had never happened. If it hadn't been from him, maybe he and Juliet would be together. Instead, he had to pick up the mess Damien made and comfort the beautiful girl he wasn't able to love properly.

‘’Juliet?’’ She turned and looked up at Dean. ''I think that if you love someone, you should never hurt them. Simple as that. But some people just can't get this right.''

[catgluue]

The Price of Life Chapter Three

So I’ve sent this to be Beta’d but I’m frankly too excited to wait so happy birthday to you, tumblr. I reserve the right to make changes, such as when I discover tumblr formatting has eaten all my italics. 

Anyway this was fun to write and I hope you all enjoy it.

Read on A03

----

“I'm bored.”

“Well that makes two of us,” Havoc deadpanned, scrubbing at his eyes with one hand. It was a little after three in the morning and they were situated outside Rebecca's hospital room. It was a fairly unconventional birth plan, with he and Riza taking it in turns to sit with Rebecca, ostensibly so they each could rest but realistically so they could switch out before she got too annoyed with either of them. Their five year old, Marcus, was at Mustang's for the night, but wherever Riza went her shadow was sure to follow. And her shadow happened to be twelve and mouthy.

“Did I take this long to be born?” Mae wanted to know, yawning hugely. She had, of course, been given the choice to stay home but true to form she wanted to be where the action was. Havoc loved the kid to death but he'd forgotten how abysmally obnoxious tweens could be. A while back he'd joked to Mustang that Mae was now the same age that Edward Elric has been when he'd been recruited into the military. Far from finding this funny, the General had gone white as a sheet and spent half an hour locked in his office on the phone with his head in his hands and Riza glaring daggers at Jean.

It had not been a pleasant afternoon.

“No idea,” he said. “I mean, I wasn't there. I know you also decided to show up sometime after midnight and your Aunt Rebecca was up all night waiting for you, so you definitely owe her one.”

“What about-” she began, sitting straighter in her chair, before pausing as though thinking through what she was about to say. “Was anyone else there apart from Aunt Becca?”

He grinned tiredly. “Oh I think someone else might have showed up,” he said, a hand on his chin. “What was that guy's name? Troy?”

“Ha ha.”

“I think you maybe met him once or twice. Dark-haired fellow, lots of stars on his jacket? Thinks you're cool for some reason?”

“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes. “Forget I asked.”

They were quiet for a moment under the fluorescent lights of the hallway. Havoc knew well that hospitals were places apart from time; the lights and people were unchanging. Well, mostly unchanging, he thought, as he spied Breda walking up the hall juggling three styrofoam cups.

“I told you to stay home,” Jean said, accepting the cup which turned out to be full of coffee.

“Yeah well,” Breda said with a shrug. “There was nothing good on the radio.” He handed a cup to Mae, who sniffed it suspiciously. “Black coffee's your drink, right?”

“Yeah but hot chocolate is fine too,” Mae told him, taking a sip. “Uncle Breda were you there when I was born?” Breda shook his head no, settling into a chair on her other side.

“Nah we missed the action. I got to see you a little while after though, you were all pink and tiny and cute. I wonder what happened?” Mae made a face at him, and he nudged her with an elbow playfully. She wasn’t spoiled exactly - Hawkeye would never let that happen - but she had grown up with an abundance of Uncles who were inclined to indulge her every whim until such a time as they’d been sat down by their commanding officer and ordered to desist. (Mae’s Aunt Becca flatly refused a similar order.)

Mustang, for all that he clearly loved the little girl, could be surprisingly stern when he had to, a surprising aspect of their odd arrangement that Jean found made him respect the man even more. It was easy to be a kid’s pal, to take them to the zoo and buy them gifts. It was harder to make them do their homework, or their chores, or  eat their vegetables.

“Uncle Breda was almost as afraid of you as he is of dogs,” Havoc confided. “Remember when we sat you down with a pillow and made you hold her?”

“One of the more terrifying experiences of my life, and I helped stage a coup,” Haymans remarked. “You hated me, wouldn't stop screaming until Havoc here took you back. Same thing with Fuery. I think babies can smell fear or something.”

“Maybe you just took some getting used to,” Mae remarked primly, setting her cup down and stretching. The door opened and a tired-looking Riza emerged, amid what sounded like Rebecca threatening the doctor with surprising vigor and creativity for a woman who had been in labor for something like six hours already.

“You're up, Jean,” Hawkeye told him, hauling him to his feet before he had the chance to process what she meant. “I think it's finally time for the big event.” he froze, unbelieving that their long wait was about to pay off and he was about to become a father for the second time. Hawkeye saw his dazed expression and chuckled softly.

“It helps if you open the door,” Mae supplied helpfully, reaching over to pluck the coffee from his hands before he spilled it.

“Can it, squirt,” he said without any real venom, and walked past Riza into the delivery room.

Rebecca looked beautiful: even sweaty and frizzy and tired as she was, Jean didn’t think he’d ever seen someone so radiant. Of course she was also screaming a string of curses so apart from being beautiful she was also terrifying . Like a vengeful goddess or something, he mused. She caught him looking and beckoned him over with the hand not clutching one of the nurses’ arms.

“JEAN HAVOC STOP STARING AT ME AND GET OVER HERE SO I CAN BREAK ALL THE BONES IN YOUR FING-AAAGH!!”

He did as he was told, offering a hand that she clung to painfully.

“You’re doing so well,” he said in what he hoped was a soothing voice.

“I,” she panted, “am doing a FANTASTIC job.”

“That’s what I meant to say,” he told her. “Can’t be long now right?” He directed this at the doctor, though Rebecca’s ensuing yell of expletives let him know she’d taken it personally.

“All right, Rebecca,” the nurse said after a glance under the sheet that covered her. “It’s time to push.” Havoc felt himself go clammy at the thought, and he brushed a hand across Rebecca’s forehead tenderly.

“You,” he told her, “Are the best baby-haver in history. Nobody pops em out like you can. You’re crushing it.” She grinned wearily, and despite her myriad of threats he could see the genuine affection in her eyes as she squeezed his hand more gently this time.  

“This kind of blind adoration is exactly why I keep you around. Now don’t you dare look away, if I have to witness this then so do you.”

It was a boy.

-x-

“Good boy, Taisa! Here, you throw it this time, Mae, you can throw further than I can.” The bushy-haired boy handed the frisbee to the dark-haired girl, who turned, aimed, and threw in one smooth motion.

Jean watched them fondly. He’d been out with Marcus, since Riza and Rebecca had a standing appointment to have lunch together on Saturday afternoons, and Becca had brought the baby. They’d gotten ice cream and were walking through the park when they’d run into Mustang and Mae, who coincidentally alsohad a standing appointment to have lunch together on Saturday afternoons. He’d just assumed she tagged along with her mom and Becca on those occasions but he had to admit it was the perfect opportunity for Mustang to have some quality time with his bodyguard’s kid. It had been Marcus to point them out first, and Havoc had looked to see the General seated on a park bench, chuckling at normally reserved Mae animatedly telling a story that seemed to involve an explosion.

Seeing them side by side really highlighted the passing of time; he remembered when Mae was seven and would play in this same park with Black Hayate, before he passed on to Good Boy Heaven. Mae and Riza had both been inconsolable, and the General had made sure that Hayate was promoted two ranks posthumously and given a proper sendoff befitting his station. Now Mae was fourteen, long-limbed and getting taller almost by the minute.

“I can't believe how big they're getting,” Havoc remarked, watching Mae and Marcus take turns throwing the frisbee for Taisa, one of the late great Black Hayate’s children.

“Do you know she came to me the other day and asked me how to get a boy in her class to notice her?” Roy said, pushing his hair off his face in an exasperated gesture while Havoc barked out a laugh.

“Oh man, I'm guessing you weren't ready for that kind of a talk, huh boss?”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“So what did you tell her?” Now he thought about it, Jean realized that even in his capacity as favorite uncle (or so he liked to believe) he wasn't ready for Mae to start dating either. She’d always been the bookish type, on the quiet side with people she didn’t know well. He had just assumed they wouldn’t have to worry about boys for years yet. Mustang shrugged.

“I was so surprised I just told her to be herself and that any boy who didn't notice her wasn't worth her time.”

“Well that seems like solid advice to me,” Jean told him. A little boring, but he doubted he’d have been able to come up with anything better when put on the spot like that.

“I'm glad you think so; Mae rolled her eyes and said never mind, she'd just go look through Aunt Becca's magazines for actual advice and thanks for nothing,” Roy said bitterly, though he was clearly amused.

Now that he thought about it, Havoc could recall a day last week when Mae had come over and talked to her aunt in hushed tones. At a certain point there had been a peal of laughter and his wife crowing that finally a Hawkeye wanted to look through trashy periodicals with her. He had avoided the kitchen after that and so didn’t hear anything else.

“Ouch. Did you tell Hawkeye?” Roy looked at him in surprise.

“Well no, Mae asked me not to.”

“So you're more afraid of the wrath of a teenage girl than the wrath of Riza Hawkeye, your trusted adjutant and infamous sharpshooter,” he said flatly. “Interesting perspective.”

“It's not like that. If I want Mae to continue trusting me, I need to prove myself worthy of that trust. She should be able to come to me with questions, or things she might not want to talk to her mother about. The Captain understands this.” Of course , Havoc thought. As usual, he was three steps and a nonverbal conversation behind Mustang and Hawkeye. They would have talked about this, probably years ago – probably before Mae herself was even able to talk. They were as much of one mind about Mae's upbringing as they were about anything else.

“Sounds like solid reasoning to me.”

“Besides, if I told Hawkeye there was a boy at school not giving her daughter the time of day you know she’d find a way to show up and ‘accidentally’ let slip how many guns she keeps on her person,” he said cheerfully and Havoc had to admit that he was probably not all that far from the truth.

-x-

The office was filled with the sound of last minute paperwork being gathered up, and Mae's soft begging at the General's desk. It was almost quitting time on a Friday and Hawkeye was delivering some documents while her daughter did her best to cajole her mother's senior officer.

“Please, please please please,

“I can't sign this; I'm not your legal guardian,” Mustang deadpanned, glancing at the final paper she had placed on his desk.

“But you're practically the most important man in Amestris, after the Fuhrer,” Mae reasoned, trying to hand him a pen as he crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow at her.

“Go try this on him, then: you'll probably have better luck.” Mae rolled her eyes at the suggestion.

“He'll make me play him for it and I can never beat him.”

“Well, I can't help you either. Have you even asked your mother?” the General asked with a shrug.

“You know she'll never say yes, she always changes the subject when I ask about alchemy. It's just a short term course and I'm doing really well in school this year,” she explained. “I thought you'd understand.” This child of the military really was getting to be a master manipulator, Havoc thought, watching as she batted large amber eyes at Mustang. Sure she lacked subtlety but she knew how to play Roy like a fiddle. She could ask for the moon and he'd find a way to bring it down for her.

“Look Mae,” he said slowly, as though choosing his words carefully, “I know you might think that alchemy is a glamorous profession, but it's not easy. It's a lot of hard work. Most alchemists aren't up to the task of working for the state and there's not much money without government funding.” This was, apparently, the wrong thing to say. Mae's eyes flashed and she squared her shoulders.

“I know I'm not some kind of prodigy like you or Uncle Ed but I don't want to do anything flashy. I want to go to Xing and study with Uncle Al and Aunt May,” she explained. “I've been reading through some of your books and medical alchemy is really cool.”

“When the hell did you read any of my books?” he demanded, and she shrugged, looking slightly guilty.

“Sometimes I borrow them. I always bring them back though. I've been looking through them for years, and I've done a few transmutations. Little ones,” she admitted. Mustang leaned his chin on his hand lazily, regarding Mae as he might look at a fascinating equation.

“Have you? That's actually pretty advanced, you know.”

She blinked, obviously not expecting praise. “Really?”

“You must have an aptitude for it.”

“I know,” she looked around before lowering her voice. “I know mom's father was an alchemist. I think that's maybe why she doesn't want me learning it.”

“Could be,” he said in his most bland, I-know-nothing-whatsoever-about-this-matter voice.

“But I thought you might understand why... why I'm so interested in it.”

“I can't sign the permission slip for you,” he repeated. “Do you know what would happen to me if your mom found out? Terrible things, unspeakable things. Remember the time I got you roller skates before she thought you were ready?” Havoc winced – he was sure none of them would ever forget the roller skate incident.

“Will you – will you talk to her then?”

“And what makes you think that would help?” Mae rolled her eyes.

“She listens to you, Sir. She might not act like it but you should hear her sometimes, it's all “General this” and “General that”, I think she really respects your opinion.” Flattery would get her everywhere, it seemed, as Mustang sat up straighter and ran a hand through his hair, as the Captain reentered the room.

“Follow my lead,” he muttered, and she nodded. “Evening Major, what do you have planned on this beautiful Friday night?” Riza lifted an eyebrow at his flowery tone, a smile playing around her mouth.

“Well it’s Mae’s turn to cook, so I thought I might do some reading,” she answered lightly.

“Oh that's unfortunate, you see I was planning on sweeping her off her feet for a night on the town. Since you seem to be delighted by the prospect of not cooking I suppose you could join us, if that's all right with you of course madam,” this was directed at Mae, who pretended to consider. Havoc started slowly gathering his things, interested to see how this would play out.

“I guess she can come, if she promises not to talk too much.”

“Yes of course, leave those chatterbox tendencies at home and we've got a deal,” Roy said, gazing at Riza evenly over his hands, steepled before him on the desk.

“I think I can agree to that,” Riza said, with another of her barely perceivable smiles that nonetheless seemed to light up her whole face.

“Great,” the General said. “It's a date.”

“Oh shoot!” Mae exclaimed, snatching up her school book - without the form, which she swept into the General's lap seemingly by accident. “I forgot I told Aunt Rebecca I would babysit for her tonight! Oh how terrible, I suppose you'll have to just go without me.” Jean thought that should he want to, he could have knocked Roy over with a feather, while Riza just gave her daughter a small wave, face almost suspiciously bland.

“Well if you promised. We'll miss you though.”

“You'll manage. By mom, bye Sir,” Mae chirped, turning to fall into step with Havoc, who had paused after donning his jacket.

“You realize we're not actually going anywhere,” he said quietly as she took one of his massive binders filled with cases he needed to review before Monday without being asked.

“Keep walking, Uncle Havoc,” she hissed.

“What's in it for me?”

“Free babysitting for a month.”

“Two.”

“One and I'll throw in an overnight trip.”

“Deal,” he said. They'd been wanting to take a weekend off to see Falman in Briggs for a while. “And well played,” he added with a nod.

“Thank you, I learn from the best. What's for dinner?” Hardened con artist and all, she was still a teenager who was somehow constantly hungry. He reached out and ruffled her shoulder length black hair and she responded by ducking away from him and smoothing it back down with a motion that he’d seen his superior officer make a million times.

-x-

BANG BANG BANG

Havoc almost jumped out of his seat at the knocking at the door. It was sometime after eight and dark outside. He picked up his sidearm off the mantle and inched towards the door carefully, before snatching the handle and wrenching it open. Springing back, he brought the gun up and then back down almost as quickly when he saw who it was. Mae Hawkeye, face red and wet with tears, was standing on his doorstep with wide eyes on his gun.

“You scared me,” he explained, dropping his weapon and clicking the safety back on. “What's up, kiddo? Everything ok?” Everything was clearly not okay but everything he knew about teenagers and this teenager in particularly told him to tread lightly. She looked like a frightened animal, and he kept his distance lest she bolt.

“Hey,” she sniffed, looking around him into the empty living room. “Is Aunt Rebecca here?” Great, he thought, girl stuff. Perfect. This was much better than the quiet hour alone with a book and a scotch he'd been anticipating. He poured the scotch anyway, thinking he'd need it.

“She took the boys for ice cream,” he said. “Can, uh, can I make you some tea?” Mae swept by him, dropping a suspiciously large bag on the floor near the coat rack with a thunk . Sounded like a couple changes of clothes and about five books, he estimated. This was serious.

“Sure,” she said, sinking into one of the armchairs and putting her head in her hands. Jean closed the door and headed to the kitchen to switch the kettle on, and by the time he came back she was sitting upright, having dried her face and smoothed her hair back. She looked young, and she was wearing an expression he knew all too well.

“You wanna talk about it?” he asked, and she gave him a withering stare that was ironically all Hawkeye, considering what she was probably mad about.

“I can't,” she said in a long-suffering tone. “I mean, I just, I had a fight with mom and I needed to get out.”

“Right,” he said, leaning back and taking a sip of scotch. “Let me guess, girl stuff?” Mae snorted.

“You couldn't even begin to imagine.”

“Right, of course not,” he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose in exasperation. When did she get so needlessly dramatic? She certainly didn't get that particular trait from her mother.

She sat on the edge of the couch, arms tightly crossed. He sat next to her and playfully bumped her elbow with one of his.

“Hey come on, you guys usually get along great. Whatever you were fighting about can’t have been that bad.”

“Oh yes it can,” Mae hissed.

“Did she return a book to the library you weren’t finished with yet?” He asked, recalling the source of a previous rift. Mae had a habit of not using bookmarks, claiming to always remember her page, and Riza had a habit of fastidiously following rules, such as the rule that library books could only be borrowed for a fortnight at a time. It was surprising the mistake didn’t happen more often, when you thought about it.

“She’s a liar,” Mae said softly and Havoc blinked at this. Riza Hawkeye was honest to the point of (always tactful) bluntness at times. Sure she could keep a secret when she had to but usually only … when she had to…

He kept his expression carefully neutral.

“It’s not my business,” he told her, hoping this would discourage her from fully revealing the cause of their argument, “But if you caught her in a fib it was probably for good reason.”

“It wasn’t a fib, she’s been lying to me since I was born,” Mae spat bitterly. “And I gave her the chance to finally come clean but she just kept up the lie, like I’m stupid —“

“No one could ever accuse you of being stupid,” he told her. And it was true, she had taken to her alchemy lessons like a fish to water. At fifteen she was at the top of her class and rapidly outpacing the curriculum available. He’d once heard Mustang quietly say to Hawkeye that he’d been looking into finding a private tutor in Central, but he had been immediately shut down by one of her withering stares that seemed to speak volumes to Roy. Havoc couldn’t see why - the girl was a natural, let her do the thing she was clearly great at. “You know how protective your mom can be. Maybe this lie, that I have no knowledge of and is not my business, was for your own good when you were younger. She doesn’t realize how fast you’ve grown up.”

“She still should tell me the truth.”

“You know, your mom’s a person too,” he told her gently, well aware that he was divulging one of the biggest secrets of parentkind. “Have you considered that maybe, uh, whatever it is, is a sensitive topic for her too? It’s probably not a fun secret to keep. I bet you she wishes she doesn’t have to.”

Mae scrubbed the back of her hand across her eyes.

“Thank you, Uncle Havoc. I’m gonna go wash my face.” She headed off down the hall and he breathed a sigh of relief, glad that playing dumb had worked. He reached for his scotch and took a long drink.

Another knock, and Havoc set down his glass in annoyance, before opening the door. It was Riza, of course, looking world-weary and almost like she'd been crying. Jean had known Riza for, geez, at least twenty years now. He didn't think he'd ever seen her cry.

“Hey. Is my daughter here?”

Wordlessly, Havoc opened the door and she walked past him, setting her purse on the coffee table heavily. The tea kettle started to sing in the kitchen and he hastened to take if off the heat, bringing Riza a cup of chamomile without asking.

“Just wait until yours are teenagers,” she said wryly, accepting the mug from him.

“Well when they are, and they run out during an argument, I'll know to go look for them at your place,” he said, and found that despite his joking tone he meant it. This earned him a sad little smile.

“It'll be nice to be the fun aunt for once,” she said softly. “People always say parenting is hard, but no one ever tells you it can be so heartbreaking.” She shook her head slowly. “I didn't mean that. Not exactly.”

“I know what you mean,” Havoc assured her. He hated having arguments with his kids, even if it was just little stuff right now, like whether or not one should jump on the bed. Mae hadn't come out with it, but he could guess what they'd been fighting about.

“I'm the one who ran out,” she confessed. Havoc inched closer to the couch and put what he hoped was a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Not now, but this morning. I was going in to work early and she kept asking me about – well it doesn't matter what. I owe her an answer but I brushed her off.”

“Whatever it is, I'm sure it's ...complicated,” Jean said delicately. Her hand came up briefly to rest on his.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Mom?” came a small voice from the hallway. It was of course Mae, face freshly scrubbed, looking remorseful, yet with a familiar glint of determination in her eyes. “Let's go home,” she said. Riza took a deep breath, and stood up.

“Good idea.”

He’d thought about using Rebecca as a go between to find out the result of this argument, but in the end decided against it. As he’d told Mae, it really wasn’t his business, even though he was desperately curious to find out whether she’d been told of her true parentage. But as it happened, there was no espionage necessary; Hawkeye approached him the next day while he was making coffee in the office.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “For whatever you said to Mae about me.”

“Oh, it was nothing,” he said. “I just ah, told her that whatever it was, the situation isn’t ideal for you either.”

“She said that whenever I was ready to … discuss the subject we were arguing over, she would like to hear it.” Riza shrugged. “Sometimes being a parent is a wretch, but then they do something mature and it was all worth it.”

“She’s a great kid,” Jean told Riza solemnly. “You did a good job there.” She smiled a little sadly and he thought he saw her eyes flick to the front of the room, just for a second.

“Oh, you know,” she said softly. “It takes a village.”

-x-

With Grumman retiring and General Mustang moving into his old office, their team was all but disbanded. It meant promotions and pay raises all around, of course, and Havoc was pleased to finally be given his own unit, but this last afternoon lazily packing up the office was bittersweet. He, Breda, and Fuery lingered, chatting and arguing over pens, while Roy finished some paperwork. Colonel Hawkeye had been conspicuously absent, a fact none of them had mentioned due to the stormclouds that had immediately gathered over the Flame Alchemist’s head when one of the subordinates had asked.

The door flew open, and sixteen-year-old Mae stormed in and directly up to the large desk, the spitting image of her mother in a rage. Roy looked up, did a double take, and sighed.

“Oh hell,” he began. “Mae-”

“Don’t you even-” she spat, crossing her arms over her chest. “You fired my mother - how could you possibly-”

Jean exchanged panicked glances with Breda and Fuery. This was a situation he could never have foreseen - even in his paperwork-induced stress dreams he was the one being fired, never Hawkeye. He couldn’t say he really blamed Mae for being upset; he personally was going to be having a word with his superior officer the moment the kid left, insubordination be damned. Fire Hawkeye? Had the General lost his mind, he wouldn’t last two weeks without her watching his back! Mustang was massaging his temples as though he felt a headache coming on.

“She shouldn’t be telling you that kind of thing,” he muttered, which was of course the wrong thing to say.

“She didn’t tell me anything, I know what termination paperwork is, and I know your signature!”

Havoc found himself in the unique position of both wanting to stay and see the pending Fuhrer of Amestris be torn a new one by a teenaged girl and simultaneously wanting to be nowhere near the impending firestorm that was undoubtedly going to take place. From Fuery and Breda’s shell-shocked expressions they were also frozen to where they stood.

“You know believe it or not I do have my reasons,” the General said, voice quiet. “And I am planning to enlighten you, despite the fact that I do not have to, but this is neither the time nor the place.”

“Oh save it,” Mae snapped, though the shaking in her voice told Jean that she was close to tears. He had no idea how Roy was still staring at her levelly; he would have crumbled if she’d used that tone on him. “You’re just a snake - all this time you’ve been pretending to care about us but now you’re getting promoted you’re suddenly too good-”

Behind the desk, Mustang’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, young lady,” he said carefully.

“Well then tell me!” She demanded, fists clenched at her side. None of them had ever seen her this upset with Roy before, and Havoc suddenly recalled Mustang, holding a baby while Edward Elric angrily asked him what Mae would think of him when she was older. He had never given it a second thought, assuming that Mae’s affection for the General meant that she didn’t harbor any resentment.

The tears in her eyes told him he’d been wrong.

From across the room Havoc noticed a few MPs peering into the office, looking for the source of the yelling, and he locked eyes with Fuery, who casually picked up one of his boxes and headed for the door, closing it behind him. Neither of the two at the desk seemed to notice.

“Look,” he said, changing tacks, “I’m almost done here, go wait outside and I’ll-”

“You can’t tell me what to do,” Mae hissed, “You’re not my father, remember?” The dam broke. She dropped her head into her hands, shoulders shaking with sobs. Roy reached out in what seemed to be an automatic gesture, pulling her into a hug, rubbing small circles into her back while she cried on his epaulets. When she finally pulled away, sniffling, he handed her a handkerchief and regarded her seriously.

“There’s a set of rules the military has in place,” he began, and Havoc and Breda were suddenly both very busy placing stacks of documents and books into the boxes, “that forbids romantic relationships between officers.”

“Oh,” was all Mae said.

“If evidence of fraternization is discovered, then depending on the rank of the officers involved and the seriousness of the infraction, then at the very least those officers don’t remain stationed in the same city. At worst they could be court-martialed.”

“I didn’t think-“

“I meant to discuss this with you,” he told her, rifling around in his desk. “Clearly I didn’t think you would find out when you did.” Whatever he’d pulled out of his desk elicited a gasp from Mae, and her whole demeanor suddenly shifted. Havoc was too busy minding his own business to catch a glimpse of the object, but he had a guess at what it could be, and why it meant Hawkeye couldn’t continue to work in the military.

“You know most people would start by asking someone on a date first,” Mae told him shakily. “How do you even know if she likes you?” she teased. Mustang had the grace to keep his expression neutral.

“I think she does. I could be wrong.”

Mae had taken the small box and was turning it over in her hands. “She’s pretty upset right now. Even if she didn’t tell me why, I could tell she was mad.”

“I jumped the gun,” he explained. “I was supposed to wait until after the inauguration. She’ll forgive me though. Will you?” Havoc fought the strong urge to run out of the large office, but he couldn’t bring himself to move, or do anything else to break the spell of the moment. He just continued to crouch, rifling aimlessly through the open drawer of his desk. Roy was clearly not asking for forgiveness for what had happened today and Mae, ever the clever one, could tell. It was a tense few moments before she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, choking back a sob.

“Of course,” she murmured, and pulled away with a grin. “You know if mom says yes then you’ll be my stepfather.”

There’s a long moment where Havoc realized he’d somehow gotten dust in his eye and it was wildly uncomfortable.

“No,” Roy said, considering. “I’ll be your dad.”

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Two broken hearts, a man and a woman (Some big ol' Samuel Drake headcanon story)

A/N: I am not broken-hearted, don't take it as such. I don't even have a relationship and most likely a heart. This is for my dear friend who is through that shit. She asked for this, so I am only delivering.

Mood for this: Shallow and Always Remember Us This Way by Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper, bcs I'm not over that fucking movie even after a month I've seen it.

❕If you're sensitive, be aware that this doesn't have a happy ending, alright?❕

Let's start from the begging, not from the end.

You haven't met by a coincidence, to be honest.

Your friends were far too clever for that (those little bitches).

You've been single for a long time and they were like:

"Ah, that Drake boyo is a dreamy one. Funny, charming, nice..."

"Shut up, Carmen. Not interested."

But they didn't listen tho. They arranged a concert of some not-so-known couple in a pub near to your home. So you couldn't say that I can't come bcs I would get home late and I'm actually working, Carmen, one of us must be the adult one, ya know?. Sly foxes, those friends of yours.

And then, all of a sudden, there that man was.

Maybe he was a bit too much older for you. Maybe more experienced. Maybe more sympathetic than you were. But that was something that attracted you to him.

He told you that his name is Sam, but a sweet little princess like you can call him Sammy. (And you chuckled, didn't you? Don't lie to me. I heard you.)

So you sat on those bar stools, drank beer and listened to those sweet ballads that were sung by the couple for the other one.

"They're kinda sweet, I'm not gonna lie," he said.

"Yeah. I feel how I am melting because of their love."

He was drinking beer in a sexy manner as well as he was smoking his cigarettes. You didn't mind that he's a smoker, because one of your exes was. He spoke in a sexy manner... Girl, you were into him big time.

Carmen was right apparently.

He walked with you to your home, covering you in his denim jacket, because it was raining heavily. You laughed and run through the streets, laughing like two children.

That's when you told yourself that you didn't see him for the last time.

And fuck, that kiss at your door. He held your face in his palms tightly as he tried to make-out, your breath away. Your tongues danced in a weird manner because it was your first kiss.

You had to learn a lot of things about each other. How to kiss each other, how to make him laugh, his routines and strange addictions and so on.

At the end of that kiss, you both laughed as crazy and you actually rose your hands up and danced and sang in the rain.

Your old neighbor wasn't glad.

"Can I see you again, miss Y/N?"

"I think I can arrange that, somehow. You know, I have a lot of work and I am a bit busy these days."

"So you're a busy and a bossy woman, I see. I kinda am into that, just to let you know."

"Go!" You cried out, laughing. He was unbelievable. "Go or you'll miss your bus."

Later you realized that you kept his jacket.

And you smelled to it all night long, even tho it was so wet that water was dripping from it.

And so, you were falling in love again. And it felt so good.

He was really funny and charming. And even tho he looked like the biggest womanizer of them all, he was actually a sensitive and romantic soul.

Him playing on guitar for was a sure thing. (Maan, just imagine him singing Shallow for you as if it was meant to be sung only for you... Gee.

His voice mesmerized you and you always curled up into a ball when he started to sing, smiling at him and running fingers through your hair. Your eyes were shining as you watched his fucking long fingers smoothing the guitar.

You had your spot under a tree on a cliff above the town, where you sat and sung because you thought that no-one will hear your terrible voice there; but to him, it was angelic.

He even sang a song that he wrote for you at that place for the first time. You cried like a little girl.

He bought you a bouquet of flowers for every chance he got. Your birthday? Yep. Your name day? Of course. Something big happened at work? A beautiful bouquet of sunflowers was a sure thing. When he couldn't think about anything else than you? Expect some delivery service dropping off flowers at your door.

When he felt like it, he cooked for you.

He must help your hand every time you were out in public together.

Sometimes he disappeared for a month or two, because of his work, but you could expect some darn expensive stuff coming by mail almost every week. And a ton of calls and sweet texts, images of the surroundings... He couldn't think about anything but you. He was into you just as much as you were into him.

And his kisses were deeper and much sweeter when he got home.

You guys moved together after a year of dating (Camila yelled Finally! when you told her.)

He had a lot of things and even though you joked that maybe he'll have to throw out a lot of them because you hadn't the space for that, it finally felt like home. You weren't alone at all and it felt right.

He tidied up after himself, his clothes were neat and he was the dishwasher of your home. Those were the ground rules.

Only after he moved in, you started to make love to each other.

He didn't want to rush at all. Just... When you felt like sleeping with him, then you two started to love each other physically.

He was a really tender lover per se. He was ghosting over your skin when there was a rainy night and you two couldn't fall asleep. He loved to kiss you gently on those sweet spots on your chin and shoulders.

Most of the times, you were the one touching the stars in the end, because he lived for the sight of your body trembling and your lips whispering his name like if you were praying to god.

But when you felt like, he was into everything you wanted. When you were curious and wanted to try something new? Let's do it!

First I love you came about after a year and a half of your dating.

You were just sitting on your balcony, playing with your hair and reading a book when he came with an ice-cream in his hands, slowly licking it from his spoon.

"I am in love with you," he said and you shot your look at him with your opened as if you misheard what he said. You loved him as well, sure thing. It could be felt within your touches and laugh, he was making you happy. You felt like if you were flying in the clouds when you were with him. "You know that, right?"

"Samuel, I-I... I love you as well, hope that you're aware of that, baby."

"Lovely!" He exclaimed as if it was one thing off the list and even tho you saw the joy in his eyes. He couldn't be more excited and the joy just brightened him up instantly. "You up for some Brooklyn Nine-Nine?"

"Sure thing."

You two were something that everyone wants to find in their lives.

You were the funny and dork couple who laughed and joked around a lot, but even tho, could be seen that you're so madly in love that nothing else mattered when you were together. He was caring and you were empathic, he had a lot of crazy ideas and you just agreed. It was like if you were just made for each other.

Almost every one of your friends loved to spend evenings with you two. You even weren't that much of kisses and touches in front of people, you kissed only once a time and he was hugging your shoulder, that was the most intimate you got in society, leaving the rest to your flat.

Maybe you were the favorite couple because you didn't make others awkward. Who knows?

If I say that his family loved you, then I'll not be using the right words. They adored you.

Especially his younger brother Nate, who was still a lot older than you, and his niece Cassie, who even started to sleep over at your place.

He played with her on a knight who killed dragons and sometimes they were pirates.

He kissed you a lot when they were running through your place and Cassie was yelling her lungs out.

"Let that innocent woman be, you dirty dog!" Cassie yelled at him a shoved the tip of her wooden sword to Samuel's leg as he was hugging your waist, kissing your neck and whispering you about how you two will be playing when the night comes and Cassie finally falls asleep. You were laughing and that made his heart jump happily.

"Oy, I can't, I think she's that red big X on my map."

"Let her be, you sea rat!"

"Cassie, for a British soldier, you know a bit too much of pirates' slang."

Nathan became your best friend more than a brother-in-law. He was more of an outside person, more than Samuel - the couch person, so Nate took you on trips on the bike, roller skates, hiking and visiting some old places. His wife Elena usually went as well; you let Cassie on Samuel's neck.

But he was totally ok with it.

On your second anniversary, he took you to the pub where you met - and this time, you were the couple who was singing. He played his guitar and you were shy from the start - but you totally rocked in the end. (YOU DEFINITELY SANG SHALLOW.)

And since then, they let you sing there every month. You built a friendship with the workers who were there and this pub became your all-time favorite.

Around seven months later, he started to act weird. He didn't look as happy as always, he was working a bit too much, leaving early and coming back late in the night.

So one night you have just waited for him:

"What's happening with us? Are you tired of me? Are you tired of this? Of us? Speak up your colors, Samuel Drake."

"Y/N, are you even listening to yourself? What's gotten into you?"

"You tell me, you aren't at home all the time, you stopped calling me during the day, you pretty much don't cook, I feel like I'm living here all alone. You just come home at night, you let me suck your dick and then you go to sleep - and then repeat."

"Y/N," he inhaled slowly and sat on the opposite side of your table, taking your hand in his and looking directly at you. Your stomach shrank and you were about to cry because of how afraid you were. "I was just wondering about something and you don't have to be afraid at all. I love you, you remember? Good. We know each other for almost three years now, but it feels like forever. I want you to become one of the Drake's, to be mine, to become my wife."

And so you were engaged all of a sudden. You couldn't feel happier, you loved that man, cared for him deeply and there was no one more important than him.

And he felt the same way as well. He was sure that you were the woman who he was searching for all the time. He was sure of it. He knew it. You were the first thing he saw in the morning and the last person on his mind every day of his life with you. He wasn't sure if you would agree and he was so worried that you wouldn't that he couldn't be at home - but it was alright after that.

He bought you a beautiful diamond ring which suited your hand as no one before you.

All got into the same point you were before - but now, he was your fiancé.

Life felt the same, loving and sunny, but the wedding was quickly approaching.

Then it started - his alcohol addiction.

You told yourself that it is a phase because he was a free man; that he must've been nervous because he was about to become only yours. You told yourself it was pre-wedding stress.

But it was way worse when you started to prepare the details of your big day (dress, theme and the church was already booked) and you prepared it with Nathan because Samuel was constantly almost poisoned with alcohol.

He woked you up in the middle of nights because he wasn't even able to go home on his own feet.

You sat next to him, holding his hand and smiling at him, helping him to vomit, cleaning his face with a wet towel, hoping that it'll be over soon.

You were seriously in love with him even after all the drunk escapades he had and after all that public humiliation he caused you. You were blind, so blind.

About your wedding day - it was a catastrophe. He didn't even come and you became one of the brides, who were left in the church all alone only to cry their eyes out.

You couldn't find him after that, running the downtown in those snow white princess dress with your make up smudged. You were crying all the way home - and he sat there on the bed with his face in his hands and completely red eyes.

Nathan just nodded at you, mimicked that he'll be behind the door just in case that Samuel even started to take some drugs.

"You stupid, selfish, ignorant cock. You left me there, waiting for you two hour in front of that dumb altar and crying my eyes out. Where, for fuck's sake, have you even been?!" You yelled at him, throwing the bouquet of white roses to the corner. He looked at you, looking like a kicked dog with eyes red from crying, a hand in front of his mouth.

"I think that we have to talk, princess," Samuel smiled at you sadly and he was about to cry again. He was even sober and you almost couldn't believe your eyes.

"I'm listening, my love," you kneeled in front of him and you smoothed his chin in a gentle manner. Your heart pounded heavily as you were afraid of what he's about to say.

"I didn't come today, because of one reason. I think that you don't need a selfish, idiotic, ignorant utter cock in your life. I'm sure of it. You're a perfect woman who is funny, lovely, so hot and so intelligent it isn't even possible and I don't want you to waste your life with a dick like me. You shouldn't be kneeling, because you're not going to like the things that I'm about to tell you, lovely floweret," he stood up and left you on the ground as you started crying like a child.

"Samuel, what's wrong? I love you so much, are you even aware of that? Now you are scaring the living hell out of me." You whispered in a broken voice as you watched his back. He always smiled at this - but not this time.

"The problem is that I am completely aware of your love for me, Y/N. And I just can't live with it anymore, I can't live with myself when I am lying to the woman whom I love," he took a glass and smashed it on the ground. "The truth is that I fucked and I am fucking another woman. I swear to you that it is not emotional, at least not for me. We fucked once a few days before I decided to make you mine and mine only. But now... She's pregnant." He smoothed his face and you stopped crying. You weren't even breathing. You were shocked as you tore the dress from your body, you threw the high heels far away and you put on some old shirt, you didn't know if it's his or yours and jeans, leaving immediately.

What hurt the most? He didn't try to stop you. He didn't run after you. He wasn't calling your name. He hasn't done a single thing.

He knew he fucked up so much that you were not able to ever forgive him. He dug is own grave when he let that bitch lure him into her bed and that pregnancy? That was the last inch before falling off the cliff.

And he hoped that the alcohol will scare you away. But you stayed even tho because you were just so pure and so in love.

So he had to break your heart ultimately for you to realize that he is a selfish dick who just poisoned you and with whom you lost almost three years.

You run away that evening to the woods even tho it was raining, still having that beautiful braid on, sitting under a tree and looked over the town, crying your eyes out.

Sully nor Nathan couldn't find you, because that was your place; now it was only yours.

You came to Nate's place when it was midnight, almost froze out because of the rain, you slept in the living room, quietly kissing the engagement ring and slowly drown in the pain.

The other day you went to your place - and he was already gone. His things all gone- from his toothbrush to his trainers. Only the smell indicated that he visited that place. You just stood there and cried to your very own palms.

You were all alone again. That flat felt empty and you did as well. For a solid week, you didn't leave it, just laying in your bad, eating sweets and watched some romcoms.

Carmen and Nathan took care of you and they promised it will be better with time, which you didn't believe. You felt like shit.

But after a month or two... Your life was back on and you were able to talk and smile, even tho your heart hurt still. But you slowly started meeting new people, new places, you slowly became a normal human being again, still wearing that ring, only wore him on your right hand.

You didn't love him anymore, but it kept sweet memories, just as your photo collection you loved so much. You and Nate went through it a dozen of times when all of it happened six months ago. He was your love for three years, maybe he was the love of your life. You had some fond memories with him which made you laugh.

The baby wasn't his in the end. It was some black-skinned senator and she just wanted Samuel to be to one bcs the senator did not want to be seen with her or his child.

You didn't have any relationship ever since you just wanted to be free and careless.

When a year passes by, you were a new woman. You changed your hair by cutting it down, you completely changed your wardrobe to more racy and tight, squeezing your body right and you exercised a lot. You felt as good as never before.

And somehow, you found yourself in the pub. I mean, THE PUB. You didn't even realize, but Carmen knew. It brought only the best memories and Carmen cracked when you tell them to her.

All of a sudden you felt guitar movements so crawled under your skin, that you wouldn't change it with anyone else's style of plucking. Carmen knew all along because he never stopped the monthly visits.

He looked like a broken man, with his thick beard and long hair. He had some silver in it. He aged almost ten years since you broke up. You weren't disgusted, he looked sexy even after all of that, but you felt pity in your heart.

And then he plucked the right strings and your world stopped. You looked at him, almost freaked out, without breath and you felt your heart pounding happily. He closed his eyes and sung that duet from that Bradley Cooper movie he loved. You always sang it together. So you smiled, even more, got up and went to him.

You smiled at the faces you known a year ago, and they even had a problem recognizing you with such short hair. You looked like someone else. But as soon as they figured it out, everyone started clapping a whistling loudly, which made Samuel get from his inner space as he watched the high heels on your legs.

You smiled to your hand and waved at everyone, looking at Samuel after that. He stopped playing, putting the guitar aside and inviting you with his look.

So you sat on his knee as you always did, hugging his shoulder tight and smiling as your mood slowly lowered to a romantic one. You put your right hand on his messy beard as you supported guitar with your thigh and started to sing her part as he started playing.

It was very intense. You held him like a lover holds lover, your stare didn't leave his the whole time and his body felt hot as his dick got completely hard because of your presence. You still did some magic to him.

You almost kissed Samuel when he was playing the last chords like you always did before. But you stopped a few centimeters from his lips as you felt the beard scratching them. Instead of that you smiled lazily, lowered his head with your palm and you let your lips kiss his forehead as he gracefully leaned into your body. It was almost like if he dies and God let him to heaven. Everyone was almost crying because you hugged him tightly, you played with his hair and then he kissed your long and beautiful neck as thanks.

But you were his heaven. Heaven that forbidden entrance for him.

There was no need for words after that as you smiled and stood up from his lap. You smoothed his hair behind his ear and smiled, opening his hand for you.

You slowly got the engagement ring off your hand and gave it to him, slowly closing his palm. Then you walked away. And he felt like everything ended.

But then you looked at him again when you were leaving with Carmen and he knew the language your eyes spoke.

Maybe you damned and you'll never be able to love him again. Maybe he fucked it up too much. Maybe this was the end.

But you encouraged him with a witty smile and shining eyes because you felt that connection when you sang as well as he did.

So he kissed that ring and hid it on a safe place, thinking about his next move.

[fandomwritingsgalore]

The Christmas Con - Chapter 2 (Chris Evans x Reader)

Pairing: Chris Evans x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Few curse words. Fluff. Tiniest hint of angst.

Chapter: 2, Read More Here 

Summary: Chris Evans agrees to be your fake boyfriend when you head to your family’s annual Christmas holiday at a rented cabin in the mountains. You think you’re pulling off the con until you’re both faced with a few obstacles you weren’t expecting, namely meddling relatives. Your family love him and you’re starting to think you might, too. This holiday you’ll learn there’s more to the season of giving, and Chris, than you thought.

Author’s Note: There’s nothing I love more than a little holiday fluff. Time to decorate the cabin for Christmas with Chris and maybe fend off your relatives from devouring him...

Y/N = Your Name, Y/F/N = Your (female) friend’s name

Word Count: 2.3k

“So, Y/N, what does that boy do for a living again?” Your grandfather asked while you helped him chop the vegetables for dinner.

You’d been volunteered to assist, and Chris had been whisked away by the women the moment you both entered the kitchen. They claimed they needed a strong, tall man to help put the ornaments on the top of the tree. More like they knew you were his only line of defense against their interrogation and ogling tactics, and wanted you occupied. You knew Chris could handle himself with your nosey relatives, but you doubted he knew exactly what he’d gotten himself into.

“He’s an actor, grandpaw,” you watched him warily as he shucked corn over the trashcan. “Why do you ask? Dad said he’d told you about him on the phone.”

He grunted. “Well I’m asking you, now. I want to know what kind of man he is and if he’s treating you right. Otherwise, he might happen to disappear this weekend. These woods can be offly confusing…”

“Grandpaw!” You guffawed, getting distracted and slicing a potato to large. He looked down and quickly cut it into smaller pieces before meeting your disbelieving eyes and giving you a crinkled grin.

“I hope he doesn’t expect you to financially support him while he pursues this career.”

You laughed knowingly, “I can promise you he does not expect that. He’s not exactly struggling in the money department.”

“Good. You deserve better than a freeloader like Y/F/N’s fool sister is stuck with.”

“Be nice,” you chuckled. He finished shucking the corn and moved on to preparing the hamburger ingredients for the barbecue. “And make sure you add enough seasoning. You know Grandmaw hates it when the burgers don’t have any kick to them.”

He waved a dismissive hand at his wife’s preferences, but added an extra shake of the bottle as a precaution. He knew not to test her Christmas spirit. She’d given Aunt Helen the evil eye for the whole trip in 2005 when she refused to listen to her and properly season the turkey. The bland dinner wasn’t even out of the oven before Grandmaw whipped out a casserole she’d made before the trip and stated she knew this would happen. Apparently she came prepared out of spite. That was also the last year Aunt Helen cooked the family Christmas dinner.

“He’s a great guy though, really.” He gave you a ‘go on then’ look, not satisfied. You sighed and thought about what you appreciated the most about Chris. “Well, he’s funny, and he opens the door for me like a gentlemen, and brings my favorite ice cream just because.” You smiled to yourself as you thought about all the times he’d shown up to your home with a bag of goodies ready to have a movie marathon.

“Or, when I’m having a bad day, he’ll put on my favorite movie even if we’ve seen it hundreds of times. And, he’s so thoughtful. He’ll always grab an extra biscuit from the store for me and he knows how I like my coffee in the morning without asking. He also likes to bring home cute trinkets that remind him of me when he’s on location for one of his movies. I can talk to him about anything, and he won’t make me feel guilty about any weird questions.”

You paused, staring down at the messy cutting board as you realized just how much those little gestures meant to you, “he makes me call him when I get home to make sure I made it back safe…”

“It sounds like a he really loves you,” he noted approvingly.

“He’s just being Chris,” You shrugged, feeling heat spread up your neck at his words.

“Does he do all that for everyone?”

You tried to remember if any of Chris’ castmates or exes ever told you about meaningful little gestures. You vividly remembered one of his exes being upset that he’d text you so much, but you assured her it was just because their relationship was still new. That didn’t go over to well. If you were being honest, Chris never seemed as invested in his relationships the way the women he dated did. You’d told him so before and he brushed off your comments saying “they just weren’t right for me.” He always joked the only women he needed in his life were his mom and you. But, now that you thought about it, you were the only constant woman in his orbit that wasn’t a relative.

“Mhm.” He hummed satisfied, your silence confirming what he already knew. “Have you talked about marriage yet?”

“What?” You stopped chopping and stared at him in shock.

“Well, I assumed things were serious enough between you two. You never bring a boy home, let alone to the cabin for Christmas.”

“How do you-”

“I’m 75, not blind, pumpkin.” You warmed at the familiar nickname as he continued, “And I’ve also never seen you smile so much out here. Especially with this bunch of meddlers.”

“That’s not bec- he isn’t- we aren’t,” you stammered, at a loss for words. You’d prepared for the marriage question. You knew it would come up eventually, but you didn’t think you were acting that obvious with your affection for Chris. “We’re taking things slow,” you breathed out, settling on the simplest answer.

“Don’t wait to long Y/N. If he’s a good man, he won’t wait forever.” You quietly watched him as he intently focused on shaping the burgers. “Doesn’t matter what anyone says,” he said with an edge to his voice, “when you meet them, you know it, deep down, where it counts.” His gaze became unfocused and you knew he was thinking about your grandmother. He shook his head and nodded towards where you’d finished chopping, “You can leave the rest of that to me. Go on in the living room and save your boy from those vultures. They can smell fear.”

You chuckled and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, “Thanks for the talk, Grandpaw.”

He just grunted and continued his task.

When you entered the living room, you saw was all of your aunts and cousins laughing to loudly as Chris stood on a ladder, being handed ornaments by Y/F/N’s sister to place on the taller sections of the tree, waving his hands around and telling some story. You were worried he’d fall off with how much physicality he was putting into the performance.

“And then she had the audacity to tell me that it wasn’t my shirts, but her ex’s! One even had a C on the pocket!” He held onto the ladder and reached up to hang a silver skate as the room cracked up.

You noticed all eyes in the room were watching him intently, and that was when you realized every time he reached high on the tree his shirt rode up exposing his lower abdomen, and his already snug pants strained even more across his toned backside. You felt a sudden surge of protectiveness rise in you as they enjoyed the show.

You quickly walked over to stand and block him from view. He curiously glanced down at you when you placed a hand on the back of his thigh, signaling him to climb down. Even if he wasn’t actually your boyfriend, you didn’t like the way they all eyed Chris like a piece of meat. You shot a narrowed judgmental look at Y/F/N who at least had the decency to look guilty for being caught.

Your Aunt Viv wiped tears from her eyes as she sat on the sofa next to Y/F/N. Once she caught her breath, she spoke up, “Chris was just telling us the story about how his shirts kept mysteriously disappearing, and he knew you were taking them even if you denied it. So, he brought his dog over to sniff them out and found them in your closet!”

“Oh really? I don’t recall that.” You glared at Chris who shot you a mischievous smile as he joined you on the ground.

He stepped closer to you and pretended to press a kiss onto the side of your cheek, but whispered in your ear, “they wanted to hear stories, so I took creative liberties.”

“At my expense, I see.”

“I had to distract them. They were getting handsy,” he defended himself. “Your loss of integrity seemed my best option.”

You huffed, but you weren’t really mad. You knew how your family could get.

“Alright, Y/N, give him back,” Y/F/N’s sister giggled, taking a sip from her glass of wine. “He’s not done decorating and we want to hear more stories.”

“Fine,” you said sharply. You poked his chest. “But, I’m going to climb the ladder this time and you’re going to hand me the ornaments if you’re going to continue storytime. I’d like to keep you in one piece.”

The room aw’d, but he shot you a secret, self satisfied, smirk knowing exactly why you were taking over. He placed a guiding hand on your back and held the ladder for you to climb up. You hooked an arm through one of the steps as you waited for him to pick out the next decoration.

You were watching him rummage through the boxes when you heard the front door open and close as your mom appeared in a heavy wool coat. She shivered from a chill, but smiled as she saw Chris hand you two pretty purple crystal baubles. You felt him shuffling below you as he leaned against the back of your legs to make sure he’d notice if you lost your balance since he couldn’t hold the ladder and grab ornaments at the same time. It made your heart warm at the thoughtfulness.

“The tree is looking gorgeous,” she approved, looking at the work you’d done so far. “Don’t forget to leave room for the star, though, Y/N.” You exchanged a glance with Chris who knowingly chuckled. It seemed no matter how old you’d get, some motherly things never changed. “The guys started a bonfire in the backyard so we could roast marshmallows after dinner. We figured if we got the kids out of the house we could wrap presents early this year since they always want to wake up at the crack of dawn.”

She shrugged out of her coat and tossed it over the stair railing while the others chatted. She came over to help Chris untangle some of the hooks since he wasn’t going to move away from you, and was ineffectively trying to hold the box in one hand and undo the mess since Y/F/N’s sister had sat down.

“Here,” she said, delicately and swiftly pulling a few apart for him before taking the box. You heard her whisper conspiratorially,  “These old things are always a pain to sort out every year. I’d suggested just getting candy canes and stringing popcorn, but apparently that wasn’t good enough for the wanna be Robinsons.”

Chris gave a booming laugh, “Well, I’d have definitely eaten all the popcorn, so it’s probably for the best.”

You snorted as you leaned over to place a pretty snowflake on a branch, “that’s why I always order extra fries.”

“It’s called payback for always stealing my desserts, babe.” He swatted your butt playfully, making you giggle and ruffle his hair before snatching the ornament he held out. You enjoyed the extra height advantage you had at the moment.

“I’m glad you two finally got together,” your mom said sincerely. She looked up at you while she unconsciously straightened a few lights on the tree. “Your father and I always said you would be good for each other, but both of you were just too stubborn to admit it.”

You felt your cheeks heat up as Chris ducked his head sheepishly, avoiding your gaze. Your mom placed a comforting hand over his wrist as he went to grab a snowman. He timidly raised his head as she continued, “I can tell how happy you make my daughter. It’s almost like- like she’s at ease with herself with you in a way I’ve never seen.” She took a shaky breath, “ I’m thankful you two found your way to each other.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes at her words and you felt a lump in the back of your throat. You’d never heard your mother talk like this before and you were moved by her words. Your breath suddenly caught, because, for a moment you’d completely forgotten that the relationship she was so happy you’d found, that the love of the man who everyone was fawning over… none of it was real. This true love story was, at the end of the day, fake. In a short amount of time you’d go back to your empty home and Chris would go back to work and you’d see each other and hang out and text but it would never be the way it was now. Chris wasn’t yours. Not in that way.

You quickly swiped a hand across your cheek, not wanting to attract attention to yourself as you turned to take the ornament from Chris.

But, his touch lingered comfortingly as he looked up at you with piercing blue eyes that reflected the beautifully sparkling lights on the tree. His gaze held an unspoken emotion. Was it sadness? Pity? You almost could’ve sworn it was… but, no, he couldn’t…

Before you could dwell on it, his plump lips quirked up into a small smile. “I’m glad I found her in the end, too.”

A/N: All chapters tagged The Christmas Con

My Masterlist

Forever Tags: @appreciating-chase-brody

The Christmas Con Tags: @aboxbesidethesea @capcevans81 @inlovewith3 @memyselfandandrea @steftolbert @hiddlebatchedloki  @jinglebella-maximoff @marvelgirlsthings @chmedic @sophiealiice @torntaltos @superwinterbell @queenred23 @jennabenna12 @xceafh @lexaandlincoln @cltex84 @imarypayne @katiedreamy

Chris Evans Forever tags:  @spider--bae @bookgirlunicorn @coffeebooksandfandom @ajosieface 

[lokisgame]

Rainbow’s End

Yellow was not the name of the street, but it might as well be, the trees were turning yellow covering the pavement with a yellow carpet of leaves. The yellow sun crawled slowly over the city, framed between two rows of buildings, facing east up the street the view was absolutely stunning. It was almost 7am on a calm and quiet Saturday morning, an occasional car drove by, someone was taking his morning run, a young father was walking the dog on his way to buy fresh bagels for his beautiful wife. This was the kind of place you wanted to stick around, live a safe and happy life in a quiet part of town. On the first floor apartment of an unassuming brownstone townhouse, the door closed behind a tall, striking dark-haired woman. Her last nights’ suit jacket was as stylish as her heels were high and her makeup flawless. You wouldn’t tell by her expression or quiet, purposeful stride, that as the thick carpet swallowed the click of her heels, the walls swallowed her screams last night. She spent here more than one night each week, yet this wasn’t her home and neither did she kiss the man she left in the bedroom goodbye. Her day was already planned, and that’s what her thoughts focused on as she got into a cab.

The apartment wasn’t large, but it was comfortable enough for a man in his early thirties, living a quiet life. All he needed was a place to sleep and a place to write, and that’s basically what it was. A small bedroom taken up almost entirely by a bed and a pair of small nightstands, a living room with a well worn leather sofa, a desk and a fish tank, small kitchen and a bathroom. The rent was cheap and it was all he asked. The morning sun peeked inside and it’s golden touch gleamed on the black, lacquered surface of the typewriter, softened by a fine layer of dust on the keys and bars; then found the wine glasses on a small coffee table, lipstick stains on one of them, a crisp white shirt draped over the armrest of the couch, black suit pants on the floor, socks, boxers. Following that trail one didn’t need to be Sherlock Holmes to easily imagine the events of last night. Yet the September sun was kind, it’s touch soft, tender and warm on his bare back. Warm sheets and feather pillows surrounded him like a fort, guarding these short hours of sleep. This was his life as he knew it for years now, long nights, light sleep, his tall, slender body wedged inside the gap between the life of a night owl and a full-blown insomniac. These few predawn hours of peace were what kept him alive. Yet, sooner or later, even in a perfect word, a phone rang.

“Mulder,” he mumbled into the receiver, grimacing as the cold plastic touched his face. “Did I wake you? What are you doing in bed at this hour?” The deep tone carried a slight reprimand and Mulder made the effort to gather his thoughts. The man on the other end of the line didn’t care much about his smart mouth. Although he valued his freedom, the little structure and push towards discipline were the main two things the man brought into his life and ff Mulder would ever suffer anyone as his boss, it would be Walter Skinner, his editor, so the title was only half a joke. “Good morning, Sir.” “Get up and meet me in an hour at the diner down the street from your place, I’m meeting someone there in ten and I thought we could talk later, since I’m here anyway.” “With pleasure, not often the mountain comes to the prophet,” he chuckled rubbing some sleep out of his eyes. “Who said anything about pleasure, just get here, and don’t be late, I ain’t got all day to babysit your sorry ass, 9am sharp.” “Yes sir.” Mulder said with a little smile and the man hung up without a word of goodbye. Skinner was the only man who could speak to him like that because quite frankly it was the only way he knew how, due to his military training and three tours in ‘Nam. Honest and fair, not prone to sugarcoat his judgments, those were the traits he appreciated in a man who’s job was to make him work harder. It was his firm hand that made Mulder’s last three books into massive success, and his publishing houses’s efforts that allowed him to remain an anonymous citizen, living his simple life in the greater D.C. area. Rolling over onto his back, Mulder stretched his bones, Diana was gone as always, the mess was still there, as always, (“I’m not your housekeeper Mulder”), the sky outside his window had that particular shade of blue it only took on in autumn on a perfectly cloudless day, the clock said 7:30am. Pushing the pillow that smelled of her heavy perfume to the floor and pulling the sheets back up, he gave himself 20 more minutes in bed, to watch the yellowing leaves outside his window and think about nothing.

Walter Skinner, a balding man in his late 40’s, looked through the menu, sitting in a booth sipping black coffee and waiting for his niece to arrive. The diner looked like the old diners he remebered from the roadtrips he took around the country, tall vinyl barstools, vinyl booths, a young waitress taking orders and refilling coffee. This place still had the feel he liked, the kind of place you grew up with, where you ate ice cream when your dad sipped his coffee over a newspaper he bought at the kiosk outside, where you shared a first milkshake with a girl hoping she realized it’s a date not two friends hanging out, where you had a midnight coffee coming back from the movies on a Friday night. These kind of places kept the connection to the past alive. This Saturday morning the place was buzzing with clients, who had things to do and places to be, but didn’t rush like they would on a normal work day, the world could wait, the coffee couldn’t. Neither could a tiny, slender redhead, who just entered the establishmen, her stride confident and purposeful, and her face stretched in a wonderful smile. “Uncle Walter,” she said as he stood up to greet her and let her peck the air by his ear. “Dana, how many times did I ask you to drop the uncle part.” “You can ask all you want, but that’s who you are,” she giggled and sat down, “did you order already?” “Not yet, what would you like?” He handed her the menu and she glanced at it, then smiled. “Granola with low fat yogurt and coffee.” “Not pancakes?” He smiled and signalled the waitress, “you always had pancakes.” “Time to grow up,” she shrugged out of her light jacket and sipped some coffee, a fine cup of coffee was all she needed to like a place, and she loved this place in an instant. “Speak for yourself,” he replied and placed their order. The food was more than okay too, which was a huge plus for someone who wouldn’t be able to control her hours for the next few months. Being a doctor was a dream job but it came with numerous sacrifices. “Bill and Charlie want to drop by your place later, to say hi.” “Great, we could have dinner together, to celebrate.” “No, I can’t, I only have this weekend to move in, the place must be habitable by tonight because my lease on the last place is over and I have no where else to go.” “You know that’s not true, you can always have my couch,” that made her giggle, it was ages since they came to visit their uncle Walt and slept on the floor at his house. Now he was divorced and lived in a fashionable apartment building downtown, but still he thought she’s the little girl who crashed on his couch watching movies late at night. “Thanks but no thanks, the point is to do this on my own, standing on my own two feet.” She smiled sweetly stirring yogurt into the fruity mix. He practically drowned his pancakes in maple sirup, just as she remembered him doing when she was a kid. He was her Uncle and nothing he said could change that. “You still don’t want me to introduce you to this guy I know, who lives in your building?” “Now that would be embarrassing, I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself.” “No one doubts that, I just thought it would be nice, to have someone who’s not a stranger.” “Walter,” her tone was strict, ending the discussion, and it also was a trademark tone of his side of the family. “Alright, alright, no more pushing, now tell me how are your folks doing, how’s my sister.” She told him about the family trip to Florida, about Bill proposing to Tara at dinner on their last night, about Missy ditching them to spend the entire week with a lifeguard, and finally herself and Charlie taking a whole day to swim with the sharks. He listened and laughed and was happy to have his favorite relative so close by his side. From all his relations, the petite Dana Scully was the kind of person her admired and loved to have around. Fearless and bright, curious like a little cat but also sensible enough to know where to draw a line. When he found out she will be taking up residency at the Georgetown University Hospital, he was happy to help find a decent place to live (which she refused), serve with advice (which she took) and any other kind of help she might need or want. She finished her story, coffee and breakfast, then glanced at her watch. “Oh my! Will you look at that, Bill and Charlie will be here soon, I gotta run,” she took out her wallet to pay for herself but he stopped her. “Don’t be silly, it’s my treat, you’ll get the next one.” “This is the next one,” she countered, but put away the money, knowing he won’t let her take the next one either. “Thank you.” “Call me when you get settled, I’ll come by to visit.” She got up and grabbed her jacket. “Come to dinner.” “Even better,” he got up with her, but made no move to leave. “You’re staying?” “I’m meeting a client.” “Oh, okay.” She smiled and hugged him briefly. “Take care of yourself Dana, and call me if you need anything.” “I will.” Dana promised and was off, as always fearless and ready to face a new challenge.

Mulder finally got up and managed not to be late for once, although cutting it so close, that he almost trampled a cute redhead exiting the diner. He held the door for her, letting her through with a quiet apology and she flashed him a smile that reached her pretty blue eyes but was gone in a knick of time right along with her, swallowed by the morning crowd. Skinner was waiting for him in a booth at the far end of the room, presently on the phone. His previous engagement must have just happened because the waitress didn’t have time to clean up the table. “Hello Walter,” he said quietly squeezing the man’s offered hand and took his place at the table, just as the waitress appeared with a smile. “Hi Mulder,” she greeted him piling up the dishes expertly in one hand. “Hello Clarice,” he smiled back, giving her his best Lecter smile, which wasn’t very good and therefore always made her laugh. “The usual?” A mug appeared in front of him and she filled it with coffee “Yup, double bacon this time.” “Coming up,” she toped Walter’s mug as well and disappeared to fill his order of double bacon, toast and eggs. A curt goodbye ended the call and Mulder found himself in direct path of a look that might kill a lesser man. “So, how’s the book coming along Mulder?” “A book?” “A short story?” “A haiku, tops.” “Fine, give me something, anything, so that I would know there’s still some words left in that grey maze you keep for a brain.” “Hey! My grey maze is doing just fine,” Mulder instantly became defensive. “Really? When was the last time you wrote something, a chapter, outline of a chapter, a line of text, tell me.” “I can do it right now.” “Oh really, right here, on the spot?” Clarice appeared with his food and Mulder thanked her, picking up his fork and knife. “Give me a moment and I’ll prove it to you.” “Fine, take your time.” Skinner sat back and waited, sipping his coffee and watching Mulder with curious eyes. Breakfast disappeared fast as he looked out the window at the passing crowd.

Mulder couldn’t deny that the writing wasn’t coming along as it used to, and it was quite some time since he came up with a decent idea, or any idea for that matter. Lately he felt stuck, somehow stuck in his life, caught in a routine that sucked the inspiration out of him one day at a time. His relationship with Diana was growing strained. From the very beginning the deal was to have no strings attached, he could date and bed anyone he wanted, as could she (only fair). But it was becoming clear that her affection lacked the depth he needed to keep him interested. They met a few times per week, shared a night, but his days were his, they weren’t a couple, he hardly could call them friends with benefits. Benefits were alright, the friends part not so much. He couldn’t even remember the last time she really smiled at him. The girl he passed in the doorway earlier had more warmth in her smile for a stranger than Diana had for him, her lover for over a year now. He took a napkin and wrote down the first words that came to his mind on a wave of those feelings.

“Blue and red girl A flourish of a smile My heart starves”

Watching him pushing the napkin across the table, Skinner took it and glanced at the words with a critical eye. "It's not nothing but it isn't something either," he declared, not unkindly but with a distinct note of reprimand. Mulder looked up at his friend and mentor, but instead of reproach behind the wire-rimmed glasses, he saw concern. "Remember what I you told when we first met?" Skinner paused waiting for an answer. "Write every day, one word at a time, a sentence, a paragraph, and before you know it you'll have a book in your hands." He recited the words that pulled him through some of his worst writer-blocks, yet today didn't bring him any comfort. As a psychologist he knew that lack of inspiration was only a symptom of something deeper. He took the napkin back and folding it, put it away in his pocket. Walter’s eyes were still on him. “Do you still believe that?” He asked finishing the last of his coffee. “I want to believe.”

They parted ways, and Mulder headed for the swimming pool, taking the long way round. He needed to relax and there was something about water that calmed him and helped sort through the bad thoughts that were gradually taking over his mind. When he passed his building and saw a U-Haul truck and two man struggling with an overstuffed couch, he was glad he thought ahead and took his gym bag when he left earlier. Someone must have leased the place above his flat.

“No no no no no, leave it,” she stoped Charlie before he could touch her precious coffee machine. “I’ll take it up myself, you can take the china, it’s the box to your left.” “You’re funny Dana, you let me handle fragile cups and plates but won’t let me touch that monster, which is certainly heavier than you are.” “This is my coffee machine and if I break it, there will be no one to blame for it but me,” she hugged the boxy coffee maker as if it was her dearest child, “half of my first pay check went into this baby” “Suit yourself,” he picked up the box then grimaced at the wight of it, “okay, I take it back, it can’t be heavier than this.” “Come on, we’re past the worst part, the bed and sofa are in, we’re almost done.” “Yeah, all we have to do now is haul half of Library Of Congress, up three flights of stairs, no elevator. I don’t think my optimism can cover that.” “Then stop wagging your tongue and get moving.” Bill said climbing up the ramp, military training oozing from his every pore, as if he was self-proclaimed general and this was his stretch of the front, “unless you have some magic powers to help us with the heavy lifting.” “Use the force Luke,” Dana croaked in a poor imitation of Master Yoda. “I can’t, it’s too big,” Charlie faked dropping the box and she gasped. “Gotch’a” he chuckled. “That was low,” she glared and pointed one finger at the door. “Get moving you beanstalk!” Her annoyed expression made him really laugh this time, but he did as ordered, following Bill who was carrying another one of the heavy boxes. The three of them managed to move everything in less than two hours and the boys left Dana’s new place with a sense of a job well done, despite her refusing their offer to help with unpacking. She thanked them and promised to join them wherever they manage to drag out Uncle Walter. After she shut the door behind them and looked around the place, the enormity of the step finally started to sink in. She was living on her own, starting a new job in two days and she was going to do this alone. And she was ready to do it! She will show them all! But first she needed coffee, yes, coffee will pull her through.

Mulder came back home, somewhere between one box run and the next. The thumping on the stairs didn’t bother him that much; he was planning to take a nap anyway. A mile along the swimming pool made him deliciously tired and ready to cheat insomnia out of few hours of sleep. The living room was still a mess, and picking up clothes to make room on the couch he noticed traces of lipstick on the collar of his favorite white shirt and got instantly annoyed with Diana. Great, just what he needed, maybe Mrs. Woo could work her magic and save it, but the discovery left him discouraged, made him feel like a thing, marked and left on a shelf for another day. He decided to clean up the rest of the place later, not that he was expecting anybody tonight anyway. The couch was well worn and a good friend of his. Two hours later Mulder woke up and smiled at the ceiling, recognizing a faint echo of Perry Como, who’s papa loved mambo. Good thing it wasn’t another silence loving nag who called the police twice a month, he had enough of that. Gathering the wine glasses and take-out cartons from the coffee table, he danced a little on his way to the kitchen, humming the familiar tune under his breath. He went two and let the water swirl around the glass, washing out the remaining wine, on four squeezed some soap on the sponge and wiped the lipstick of the edge of glass... And in that moment his hand slipped and by pure reflex he squeezed the bowl, crushing the glass. Blood darker than wine flowed from a deep cut in the palm of his right hand. He tore off a paper towel and pressed it against the wound, then rummaged through the cabinets, searching for bandages, bandaids, anything to stop the bleeding. Heart racing, adrenaline fuelled his thesaurus and if he stoped to listen to what he was saying, he’d be surprised how many swear words he knew and how colourful pictures he could paint with them. Still he found nothing, the first aid kit was empty, not even a piece of gauze in a torn sterile packet, he carved himself a new, shorter, lifeline. The paper towel was turning bright red fast, he needed help. The couple downstairs was out of town, Alex on top floor was a prick and creeped him out, his only chance was the new guy upstairs.

Rushing to the door, Mulder bumped his head painfully on the open cabinet doors, cursing the world again and still rubbing his forehead, took the steps two at a time and knocked on the door urgently. Quite the dramatic way to introduce himself to the new neighbor, he couldn’t have written it better himself if he tried. A small redhead opened the door and beneath the frizzing tresses he recognized the blue eyes he saw disappear into the crowd that morning, but before he could say anything, or even find his tongue, she noticed his bloodied face and pulled him inside. “What happened?” She asked briskly, dancing between boxes while dragging him to the kitchen by the sleeve of his shirt. Flicking the lights on and sitting him in a chair, she tilted his face into the light, searching for injury that was the source of all the blood. “I was doing dishes,” he finally spoke and wriggled from under her touch to show her his bleeding hand, “you got any bandages?” They looked at each other, he in pain yet slightly amused, she concerned and as serious as one could get, but only for a second untill they both laughed. “Sure,” the girl relaxed and from between the boxes produced a deep red, medical looking bag, “you’ve come to the right place.” She took his right hand in hers, looking under the paper towel to asses the damage. “Fox Mulder, pleased to meet you,” he quipped. “Dana Scully, M.D.” the girl smiled, glancing up and meeting his eyes. “Well Doctor Scully, is it bad?” “You won’t be doing any dishwashing for a few days,” she said looking for tweezers in case there was some glass left. “Just patch me up and I’ll buy you dinner, nobody does the dishes tonight.”

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

All I Need~ Part 6

Pairings: Josh Dun x Pregnant!Reader

Overview: You move to Columbus, Ohio to live with your brother after your ex-boyfriend becomes abusive after telling him of a surprise pregnancy. You become involved in the church and unknowingly befriend the Dun family. After finally meeting Josh, there’s a connection between the two of you that lands you in some complicated situations.

Warnings: None for this chapter.

Y/N = Your Name

Y/B/N = Your Brother’s Name

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4 Part 5

Your heart was in your throat as your brother drove you to the Dun household. As if everything else about the last few months wasn’t insane enough, seeing Josh off was probably one of the worst things yet. You never expected to fall for him. Of course you’d had a crush on him since you’d first heard twenty one pilot’s music but that was a celebrity crush. Just this fantasy that you could giggle at when you were bored.

But now it was real. When you’d realized that there was a significant chance of meeting him since you were friends with his parents, a small part of you had hoped that he would be the egotistical jerk that celebrities often became, tainted by the spotlight, so you wouldn’t actually fall for him. That couldn’t have been farther from the truth. Josh was kind, funny, loving, talented, and respectful. And he had fallen for you too, despite everything.

“Are you okay?” Your brother asked as he pulled the car along the sidewalk, just outside their house.

You hadn’t realized how quiet you were being, “Yeah, I’m fine.” You lied quietly. You were so far from fine right now. You sighed and put on a small smile, “Ready to head in?” You asked. The two of you walked up to the door, which opened before you could even knock.

Bill was standing there with a smile, “Great timing! I was just walking by the door when I saw you! Come on in!” You walked into the comfortable home and saw way more people than you expected.

“I’m sorry! If I’d known this was a party I would have brought drinks or something.” You expressed.

Bill shrugged, “Don’t worry about it! There’s more than enough food and drinks for everyone. And it’s just family and Josh’s local friends seeing him off before his flight tonight.” He pointed to the sliding door across the house, “They’re all out there. Make yourselves comfortable.”

“Thank you, sir.” Your brother said as you walked through the house to the backyard. Your eyes scanned the large area for the familiar pink hair but saw nothing. He’s probably busy, you thought, there’s a lot of people here.

You made your usual rounds, getting all sorts of love and affection from Laura Lee who, as usual, fawned over your babies. “Josh told me it was twins!” She was ecstatic as she told Josh’s aunt a general overview of your story, without revealing too many personal details. Suddenly, Laura Lee looked around suspiciously, “Speaking of Josh, where is he?”

Suddenly, something freezing was pressed against the back of your neck and you jumped away from the sensation to see Josh laughing with a can of your favorite soda in his hand, small ice chunks still stuck in the rim. You looked at Laura Lee, who was looking away and whistling innocently, “I thought I could trust you!” You laughed, turning towards Josh and smacking his arm. He handed you the soda, “Thanks you.” You said reluctantly.

Before you could say anything else, you felt his hands slip around yours and your heart stopped for a moment. Was he really doing this? In front of everyone? That’s when you felt the tug on your arm as he pulled you slightly, “Come here. There’s some people I want you to meet.” He announced excitedly as he dragged you across the backyard and into the house.

Once you found yourself in the living room, where a surprising number of people were sitting, Josh finally stopped pulling you around. You guys were standing in front of a small couch that had three people sitting on it. There was one guy that you could see that you didn’t recognize. In front of you was a gorgeous blonde looking at the man to her left with a smile. You couldn’t see his face but you had a hunch. “Y/N, this Tyler and Jenna. Tyler and Jenna, this is Y/N!” He introduced.

Both Tyler and Jenna turned to look at you and you were surprised that you didn’t feel as starstruck as you expected to. They were just like the rest of Josh’s family. Comfortable and warm. Jenna stood up and hugged you tightly, “Finally! We’ve heard so much about you!” She let go of you and Tyler stood next to her and shook your hand.

“Sorry, she’s a hugger.” He laughed, “About time we finally meet you.”

You weren’t sure how to respond. Josh was talking about you? It seemed to be all good stuff. So what did Tyler know? You smiled warmly, “Nice to meet you guys! Josh talks about you too.” You said, unsure of what to say.

Tyler scoffed, “Pfft, he better!” He shoved Josh slightly.

Jenna leaned over to you, “They’re always like this. You get used to it.”

“Ever feel like a third wheel?” You joked.

“I’ve already come to terms with the fact that Josh was his first wife.” You both laughed a little bit.

The party went on for three more hours until it was 7:00 pm. Tyler and Josh began making their rounds, saying goodbye to everyone so they could be at the airport in time for their 10:30 flight. As you waited your turn, loving every second of watching how much Josh loved his family, you were shocked by Jenna wrapping her arms around you again out of nowhere.

You hugged her back after you realized what happened, “Are you leaving too?” You asked, confused about the affection.

She looked sad, “Yeah, I’m staying in LA. I know we just met but I wanted to say bye and congratulations!” She leaned in close to you, lowering her voice to a whisper, “And just so you know, Josh has not stopped talking about you. I haven’t seen him this happy in a long time.” She pulled back and winked at you, “Bye!”

“Bye!” You managed to say in your shock.

Tyler came and hugged you a few minutes later and after a while you’d noticed Josh walking in your direction. You put on a fake smile even though your heart was breaking because he was leaving. You couldn’t deny the butterflies that went crazy in your stomach when you saw his adorably crooked smile, remembering the way those exact lips felt pressed against yours yesterday. Shaking the thought from your mind, you extended your arms and Josh walked right in, pressing you to his firm body. “You be safe out there.” You told him when he let you go.

“I’m always safe.” He rolled his eyes and you had a feeling there may have been a small lie behind that phrase. His eyes locked with yours and that tension was back, “I’m gonna miss you.” He confessed.

“I’m gonna miss you too.” You responded, not wanting to look away from him.

“Josh! We gotta go!” Bill yelled from the door.

Josh sighed and you smiled sadly. “Hey, buck up. I’ll call you when we land. Or at a reasonable hour after we land cause I think we land at like 2am or something.”

You giggled, “You better!” He pulled you in for one last hug and you did everything to remember him like this. The way he looked, the way he smelled, the way he felt against you. As he pulled away you felt his lips graze your cheek before he met the group at the door.

“Bye!” They all yelled one final time before leaving. You went into the kitchen to start helping Laura Lee clean up from the party. After a few minutes, your brother found you, “Hey Y/N, can we head out. I’m not feeling too hot.”

“Yeah, let me just say good bye real fast.” You told him. He nodded and stood by the door, keys in hand. You walked over to Laura Lee, “I’m sorry but we gotta head out early.”

She hugged you, “Oh don’t worry about it! We’ll see you later!”

You and Y/B/N walked out into the night air, him tossing you the keys so you could drive home. The ride home was quiet. Your brother had fallen asleep just as soon as he got in the car, leaving you in a conversation with your thoughts. All you could think about was Josh. How this was the end of everything that had happened. Why wouldn’t it be? Sure this was a fun little fling while he was home but now he was on the road, more than capable of having any woman he wanted. He would realize how much better they were than you. He would call in the morning and maybe even a few days after but by the end of this month those calls would stop. Gosh, how could let it get this far? You knew what would happen! “Idiot!” You cursed yourself outloud.

By the time you got home, you were numb to everything. Somehow you were feeling overwhelmed but felt nothing at the same time. You just sat there, still in the car, hands still on the wheel despite being parked. As you stared out across the dark road ahead, you felt a single tear slide down your cheek. After it trailed all the way down and you felt it land on your chest, you snapped out of your daze and looked at your brother. His top lip was being dragged up by the seat belt as his face was being smashed against the strap.

You tapped his shoulder, “Hey, c’mon let’s get you inside.” He stirred just barely, groaning. He unbuckled his seatbelt but stayed seated, leaning his forehead against the dashboard. You got out of the car and walked around to open his door. Y/B/N heaved his legs out of the car, still sitting down. “You okay?” You asked.

He didn’t respond. He breathed heavily for a second before throwing himself forward and throwing up just inches from your shoes. You groaned, trying to stand in a safe area that was still close to him.You put your hand on his back, rubbing small circles until he was done, “Okay, let’s get you in bed.”

[ignis-et-equi]

I have homework I need to finish before tonight, but I keep getting distracted by thinking about my date yesterday. So maybe writing it all out (again) will help my thought process. FYI, this will get detailed, so if you don’t want to know about my sex life, move on.

So, I’m sitting in the super cute, picturesque coffee shop after driving 45 minutes through a whiteout, sometimes only going 35 mph because of black ice and low visibility. The drive was fucking awful. By the time I get into town, I’m already an anxious wreck. My hands are shaking so hard that I have to hold my hot cider in both of them so I don’t spill it. (Cider was bomb af, btw.) He was very polite and had texted me that he was probably gonna be a half hour late because of the weather. So I waited nervously and he showed up precisely when he predicted he would.

I think he was nervous too. He immediately found me and sat down across from me. We made small talk. I was so out of it that I don’t even remember most of the conversation. I was wrapped up in taking notes about his hair, eyes, and the sound of his voice and why it seemed so damn familiar. I do know that one of the first things he did once small talk had concluded was showing me a bunch of pictures on his phone of the various animals he’s lived with while working farms in Washington State. It was very clear that he adores animals and is absolutely unashamed of expressing that fact. My heart lept a little when he said the word “doggo.” (Because I’m a cliche white girl. Sue me.) We also discussed his time being a firefighter in Yellowstone and what he did working intelligence for the Army in Afghanistan. I also pronounced my jealousy at how much he’s been able to travel and told him about becoming an ESL teacher, why I’m in Wyoming, etc.

After we finished our drinks, we discussed what we wanted to do in spite of the snow and decided on me showing him the rest of Cody and potentially heading into the North Fork to see the mountains and lake. We really didn’t make it that far. It was snowing too much to even see the mountains that were literally surrounding us. So we parked the car and left the heater running while we talked about music and tattoos. I gave him a brief rundown of what polyamory is and told him more about my boyfriend and how I’m going on an extended weekend date in NYC with two other people before moving onto his knowledge about BDSM, which was null. He actually went through all 400+ songs on my Spotify playlist to see what I like.

I’m sitting there thinking, “This is prime first kiss territory,” and trying to make it clear that I definitely would like that to happen. But he was just so soft and gentle. I legit wasn’t sure if he was actually going to make a move on me or not, even after he lightly started stroking my hair and softly giving me compliments. I moaned instinctively the first time he touched me and then blushed immediately after. I’m not as coy as I’d like to be, but I think it encouraged him quite a bit. He drug out those moments leading up to that first kiss. It was torture. Glorious, savory torture. Finally, he asked, “Does your lipstick smear?” I was on autopilot, immediately realizing what this question was getting at.

“It stays on pretty much the entire day,” I responded. I’m sure there was begging in my eyes.

“You wanna make sure?”

I pounced on him almost before he could finish his sentence. It was light and warm and soft. He smelled like the forest, musky and familiar. His fingers wove through my hair, his other hand held my cheek in that way I absolutely adore. I followed his lead, for the most part, not wanting to seem too eager despite having already shown my hand. His lips moved down to my bare shoulder (thank you, off-shoulder sweater), my collarbone, my earlobe. I was blissed out and digging my nails into his chest. He came back to kiss me and nibbled on my lip, his hand drifting down to wrap around my throat. I felt the primal tear out of me and bit him back, which made him moan. I kissed down his neck and did more than just nibble, but I was careful not to use full force. I could tell how much he loved it and he returned my bites in kind.

We made out for a long time. My playlist was going in the background. There was lots of snuggling when we came up for air. It felt like a dam had broken and we just wanted to have as much physical contact as possible, sexual or not. We ended up talking some more. He bashfully told me that he’s divorced. I told him I’m not surprised. Any military guy over the age of 25 has to be divorced. They won’t let you out until you get an ex-wife. I wanted to sit there and snuggle and make out, but I knew I didn’t want to sleep with him in the back of an SUV, so I suggested we go to the bookstore downtown. He had no qualms against that.

We held hands the whole way there and talked more while I drifted on autopilot again. We walked hand in hand down the icy sidewalk. He made sure to put himself between me in the road, which a very Southern Gentleman thing to do. He showed me a bunch of books he’s read once we walked in and I showed him some of my favorites. He was always touching me, holding me, with his arm around the small of my back while we looked through the books. I didn’t even think about the fact that we’d known each other for all of a few hours and were already engaging in PDA. It was comfortable and safe. We lingered in the bookstore longer than was appropriate for two people who had no intention of buying anything.

The Thai place we ate at was just down the next block, coincidentally next door to the coffee shop. His eye had lit up in the bookstore when I mentioned wanting proper spring rolls, so that was the first thing we ordered. We shared pad thai and drunken noodles. We talked about sociopaths and Trailer Park Congress, a game he had played with his Army buddies while deployed where you take a stance that is wildly one-sided (like, “All abortion is mandatory”) and have to defend it. Once our plates were gone, he held my hands in his across the table and finished my glass of water for me once his was empty. Again, I didn’t even notice the quick sense of familiarity we had with each other. We lingered longer than we should have and neither of us cared.

The only place in Cody he hadn’t seen yet was The Hill that housed Albertson’s, Starbucks, and McDonalds along with a few strip malls. I never go to this part of town, so we ended up driving aimlessly for a while down the highway before turning back and discovering Beck lake, which apparently has walking paths and a dog park. We parked the car again on the road overlooking the lake. The view was shades of grey and white as the snow continued to fall. There was definitely some intention of getting out of the car and walking for a bit, but it was a long time before we made it that far. More kisses and nibbles ensued with his hand wrapped around my throat. He showered me with compliments as he petted my hair and made me moan. It was clear that we both wanted to completely let go on each other, but between the cold and the lack of a proper space, we knew it wouldn’t happen.

We caught our breath and removed ourselves from the vehicle only to end up holding each other in the cold. We kissed and his hand slid down to my left thigh before hitching it up to his waist. I dug my nails into his jacket as he dipped me backward, telling me to trust him. I squealed and totally lost my shit over the fear that he was gonna drop me. I’m not used to guys looking at my 230lbs and not thinking twice about it. He reassured me I would be fine before kissing me.

We made the short walk down to the lake. He’s excellent at skipping rocks, but it took less than 5 minutes for the wind to pick up and freeze our Southern asses to the bone. It was a prompt retreat back to the shelter of his car.

After more making out that lead to my direct involvement in him getting to 2nd base, we finally had to say good night. It was getting dark and he had a long drive back home through the snow. We discussed meeting up again, preferably somewhere with heat and a bed, and he mentioned getting a hotel room. I hesitated, not sure if I wanted to spend the night with him or not and told him why. He didn’t push. He never pushed for anything from me. But he did tell me he was going to see me next weekend.

It took forever for me to extract myself from his car, but I finally did and made my way home.

[katdvs]

Author Note: Sorry I didn’t get this up yesterday. I had to babysit unexpectedly last night. I hope you enjoy this little Rucas fic, it was made from requests from this post. Xoxox Kat

I’ll Be Home for Christmas

He could remember the taste of her berry flavored lip gloss, the sun in her hair as she forced herself to be strong. He could remember the tremble of her lips as she studied his face once more, “I love you Lucas, I’m going to miss you every single day that you’re gone.”

He brought the last letter she wrote him to his nose, sniffing the sweet scent of her perfume from when she hand wrote the letter. He studied her handwriting, seeing the parts that made her nervous, the difference in her slants and crosses, the way she dotted her I’s.

Stuffing the letter into the bag, he looked around him. The only items not packed sat on the small table next to the bed. His phone, and the black velvet box. He picked the box up, putting into the interior pocket of his jacket, he stuffed his phone in the pocket of his pants and took one final look around.

This was it.

The life he’d known for seven years would be ending, and a new life would be beginning. The life that flashed before his eyes the first time the bubbly brunette fell into his lap that fateful morning. His heart filled with joy as he thought about her smile, how she would smell of vanilla and sugar.

He was dressed in his civilian clothes now that he was one, as he found his seat on the airplane. His hands shaking as felt in his jacket for the box, thankful it was still there. He pulled his phone from his pocket, quickly sending a message to Farkle and Zay, that he was on the plane and would text as soon as it landed.

Throughout the flight his leg bounced with his nervous energy, the woman sitting next to him sending him a dirty look before she stuck her head into her well worn romance novel with handcuffs on the front.

When he arrived at JFK he texted Farkle, who was already waiting for him at baggage claim. “Don’t worry, she has no idea you’re arriving.”

“Are you sure she hasn’t figured it out?” Lucas wondered how anyone had kept it secret.

“None at all.” Farkle insisted. “She’s moping around about how you won’t be home for Christmas.”

Lucas grabbed his bag from the carousel, “Well, in a few hours I don’t think she will be moping, at least I hope she won’t be.”

“Don’t second guess you’re self, she’s going to be beyond excited.” Farkle led him out to the car, his driver taking Lucas’ bags, loading them in the trunk for him.

“So, you have the key to the apartment?”

“Yes, and with Zay and Maya’s help—yes Maya knows, we got everything set up.”

Lucas scratched the back of his neck, “You don’t think she’ll be upset, think I was presumptuous, or anything right?”

Farkle chuckled, “Lucas, she will say yes, you two might not leave that apartment for a few days—don’t worry I stocked the fridge, champagne, and a few goodies as well as some real food.”

“Thanks Buddy” Lucas ran his hands over his jeans, “This is just it, you know, no more deployments, I’m out, I’ll start at the hospital down the street in the New Year, and I know Riley’s been waiting all this time, I had to be sure I could give her the life she deserves.”

“Lucas, you are an emergency medicine doctor, you’ve seen the worst of the worst out there. You’re a hero, and Riley, well she might not let you leave the apartment until February.” He teased.

“Dude, come on.” Lucas smirked as he pulled the box out from his jacket, opening it, “Think she’ll like it?”

“It’s the most Riley ring possible.” Farkle studied the simple diamond, it wasn’t tiny but it wasn’t over the top either. “She’s going to love it, and she probably won’t even look at it right away.”

Lucas snapped the box closed, “I just, I want this to be perfect.”

“It will be, because whatever happens, it will be the moment you two have been waiting for, for longer than I think any of us ever realized.” Farkle pulled his phone out as it buzzed, reading the message, “She still has no clue, Maya just texted to tell me that Riley is currently plotting a run to the craft store. She had to talk her into crafting with the supplies they have in the apartment.”

Lucas chuckled, “Good, not that Riley is stress crafting, but that Maya has her busy, though I’m dying to see her.”

“We’ll be at the apartment soon, you can get freshened up, set up, and Riley will be at your door before you know it.”

“It’s finally happening Farkle, all these years.”

“Yes, finally, and it’s been a long journey, but you have so much to look forward to.” Farkle reminded him.

When they arrived at the building, Lucas took it in for the first time in person. Farkle and Zay had helped him find it, with maybe a little help from Mrs. Matthews. As they rode up in the elevator, his heart raced knowing that in a few minutes he would enter his new home, and that hopefully in a couple of hours he would propose to Riley, and she would agree to be his wife, share this home.

Farkle unlocked the door for him, the apartment was already furnished, and a Christmas tree set up in the bay window. A fire was already going in the fireplace, and the apartment was already decorated for the holidays. Lucas took it all in as he dropped his bag to the floor, “This is more than what I asked you guys to do.”

“Zay might have gone a bit overboard.” Farkle smirked, “We left you two the tree to decorate together, we know that’s kind of your thing.”

“This is really above and beyond.” He couldn’t believe the lengths his friends had gone to, “She’ll like the furniture I bought right?”

“Riley basically picked it out herself.” Farkle explained, “Maya told her she needed help with setting up vision boards for her students. All the pieces are ones Riley picked out.”

“They’re exactly what I would’ve picked.” Lucas marveled as he picked up his bags to find the bedroom. “Farkle, this is a bit much don’t you think?”

Farkle quickly caught up to him, finding the bed covered in Rose petals and LED candles set up around the room. “This is all Zay and Maya.”

Lucas rolled his eyes, “Cute.”

“Go and shower, I’m going to text Maya to make sure Riley is ready for the Christmas party we told her we were all going to tonight.”

Lucas glanced at the bed once more, “You sure she doesn’t know?”

“I’m positive.” Farkle told him. “I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

“Thanks again, really, I mean it.”

“I know, and really it’s nothing.” Farkle gave his friend a hug, “I’m really glad that you’re finally home, and if I’m relieved, Riley is going to be really relieved.”

“Honestly, so am I.” He confessed before Farkle left. Once alone Lucas took a hot shower, shaved and put on his favorite pair of jeans and the Christmas Sweater that Riley had made him three years before.

He grabbed the ring from his jacket, he looked at the tree trying to figure out how to balance it. Running a hand over his growing hair, “Agh! I just want this to be perfect.” He sighed before his eyes caught sight of a roll of purple ribbon on the kitchen counter. He cut a long length off before first tying it around the box, and then gently tying it to the tree branch.

He moved into the kitchen setting up the champagne in an ice bucket as well as the champagne flutes. His stomach twisting in knots, as he glanced at the time. He pulled up her favorite Christmas playlist on his phone, letting it play on the Bluetooth speakers hidden on the mantle.

She would be here soon.

He wasn’t sure if he could handle waiting much longer. He began pacing around the living room, noticing the pictures of him and Riley throughout the years. He was behind the tree when he heard the door open.

“Hello?” Her voice was nervous, “It’s Riley. Maya, Farkle, and Zay are on their way up. They somehow missed the elevator.”

He was frozen when he heard her voice, oh how he’d missed it.

“Is anyone here?” Riley looked down at her phone, then at the number on the door confirming that they matched. When she looked up, she gasped as Lucas came out from the other side. “Lucas, what are you, how are you?”

“I’m home.” He could see the tears in her eyes, “I’m done.”

She threw herself into his arms, “Thank God” she burst into tears as they clung to each other.

Lucas breathed her in, “I’m home Riley, I promise you.”

“I’m so thankful for this.” She moved back to look in his eyes, “I love you, please don’t ever leave again.”

He smiled, “Look on the tree.”

She knitted her brows in confusion before he guided her to the tree, where she saw the purple ribbon. “Lucas?”

He pulled the ribbon, freeing the box, letting it drop in his hand before he dropped down on one knee, “Riley, we were so young when we met. But I knew, when you were in my lap that first day you would be important to my life. I didn’t know just how important until I thought I lost you.”

“Lucas, you never really lost me.”

“I know that now, but a scared teenager, I had no idea.” He kissed her hand, “Riley you’ve stayed by me, through everything over the years, even all the time I was deployed. You had every right to give up on me.”

“I could never give up on you.” Riley reached out to brush the hair away from his eyes, “I can’t remember the last time I saw your hair this long.”

Lucas chuckled, “I hope you never will, Riley, will you please do me the distinct honor of marrying me?”

“Yes, of course!” She was pulling him to his feet as he tried to open the box, she felt the ring on her finger, but all she could look at were Lucas’ green eyes, the eyes of the man she had loved her whole life. The eyes she’d yearn to stare into for far too long. “Kiss me.”

He did as he was told, letting his lips land on her apple cider flavored ones as her arms snaked around him, clinging to him as they got lost in the moment.

“How did I not know you were coming home?” She finally questioned when they pulled away as Lucas went to open the champagne.

“I made everyone promise not to tell you.” He kissed her forehead, “They helped me get everything here set up.”

Riley jumped when the cork was removed, “So this is your apartment?”

He pulled her close to him, “This is our apartment. I don’t want to rush you to have you move in, but as soon as your ready, I want to share this space with you.”

“Wait Lucas, if your out, what are you going to do for work?”

“I’m still a doctor Riley, just not for Uncle Sam any longer. I’ll be working at the hospital just a block away.”

“You thought of everything, didn’t you?”

“I hope I did, I think I did.” He thought for a moment, “You really had no idea I was coming home?”

“None,” she started to really look around the apartment, “But I should’ve. I picked this couch out, and this table.”

“Maya, was in on it.”

“They all were, weren’t they?” She picked up her flute of champagne, “I’ve been so sad you wouldn’t be home.”

“I’m home now,” He picked up his own champagne, “Home for Christmas, you can count on me Riley.”

“I always knew I could.” They clinked their glasses before taking a  quick sip and kissing again.

[a-mess-of-a-princess]

Does the Past Make the Future

Chapter 2

It's been about a month since you first met Luciel, he told you his baptismal name around the 2nd date, and you thought it was adorable so you stuck with it.

You and Luciel see each other as often as possible. He has a very, creative, way of looking at dates. Not that you were complaining in the least, everything single one has been so much fun. Seriously, this boy is amaze-balls.

There has been cliché dates, movie and dinner, bowling, and put-put. But there was also been elaborate and different ones as well, you went to the science center and played in all the children focused exhibits, the take-out “camp-out” at your apartment, and your favorite the nerf war picnic at the park.

This date was the sweetest, cutest, most fun date you have ever had. Luciel texted you saying to wear something similar to work-out clothes and then to meet you at the park, he would never tell you what he had planned and unfortunately you were not as creative as him. Once you get there you see a little picnic basket and a line of nerf guns and ammo.

“Okay,” he starts, “The rules: no crotch shots, no boobs shots, avoid the face, and…. WIN!!!”

He immediately grabs a nerf gun and starts shooting. You squeal and run to grab one trying to avoid getting hit. Once you have one, you start shooting in his direction blindly. You grab a thing of ammo and run to hide. The two of you just continue to run around, shoot, duck, hide, and pick up stay nerf bullets until you trip backwards on a stick and fly towards the ground. Luciel was fairly close and tries to catch you, but ultimately fails, tripping himself. He barely catches himself before landing right on top of you.

You had covered your face to avoid a bloody nose, but when there is no impact. You uncover your face to see Luciel inches from yours. He is wide-eyed and panting. His eyes flicker to your lips then back up. Your eyes move to his when his tongue slips out to wet his own. Slowly he leans forward towards you. The moment before his lips touch yours you think, ‘this is so cheesy.’

The kiss was barely a touch before he pulls back to gauge your reaction. You smile and slide your hand to cup his face and pull him back down to kiss you again. His lips are slightly chapped but you don't mind, you are sure yours are as well. Even though your lips aren't in sync the kiss is still lovely. He licks your lips to ask for permission you quickly comply. You can feel him sigh once he enters your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his and he groans. He licks the roof of your mouth and--

“Excuse me…. This is a public park. Have some dignity!” you both look up to see cranky looking woman in her late 40s. She is staring down at the both of you with such disdain. You can't help but giggle. Luciel looks at you and collapses bursting into laughter as well. You don't know how long you laugh but when you are able to breathe again you see Luciel staring at you, you can’t quite depict what is there but he quickly blushes and looks away. After a few seconds, he jumps up and helps you up as well.

“I think it time for food!” Never letting go of your hand he walks over the basket and sits down pulling you next to him. You laugh when he opens it up to see premade sandwiches and chips. There is a small thing of fruit in the corner that makes you smile even wider. The two of you sit there for hours just talking and laughing. You adore the way Luciel waves his hands around animatedly when he talks.

The two of you began to pick up all the stray ammo, finishing just before the sunset. Luciel is leaning on a tree when you walk over with the last of the nerf bullets. He looks up at you and blushes. You are confused as to why when he looks away and opens his arms towards you. You smile brightly and move his legs so you can sit between them, he sputters a bit but quickly recovers. He wraps arms around you and leans his chin on your shoulder. You shiver slightly when he noses your neck. He smirks and looks up to watch the sunset.

****

That was about two weeks ago, today you are heading over to his bunker. He said he doesn't usually have people over because his brother is “sensitive” as he put it and again, you didn't press. You pull up and park your car. You just step out to see Luciel already running towards you. He tackle hugs you and smashes your lips together.

“___!!! Come in!” he tries to drag you in but you stop.

“Luciel, I need to grab the groceries!” You reach inside to grab the bags and you see through the window that Luciel is staring at your ass. So, being a tease you shake it a little bit then stand up. You walk up to him and kiss him the cheek and begin to walk towards the house. You hear Luciel groan before letting you in. You give him a funny look when he opens the door with a voice password, but dismiss it when you remember he said he was a hacker for a living.

Once inside he directs you to the kitchen. You told him you would cook for him and Saeran. You have yet to meet him but Luciel speaks of him often and quite fondly.

You were just going to make a simple meal, nothing too fancy, there was less chance of messing up that way. Luciel tried to help, but the poor boy knew nothing about cooking. You ended up forcing him to sit and watch.

Half way through you hear the front door open and soon Saeran is standing in the kitchen just looking at you in confusion.

“ Saeran! ___ is making us dinner! Come and socialize!” Saeran doesn't move an inch.

“Hi!” You beam at him, “it's nice to finally meet you!” You reach out your hand and take a step towards him. Saeran flinches and steps back, he then glares daggers at you.

“Saeran--” Luciel starts but you interrupt him.

“Luciel, it's fine.” You look at Saeran. “I'll make you a plate. And if you don't feel comfortable eating with us I'll leave it in the fridge, okay?” You smile gently at him.

Saeran acts as if he doesn't hear you, other than to say, “That's not his name.” You look at him in confusion.

His is much louder when he speaks next. “Luciel is NOT HIS NAME!”

Luciel goes to stand in front of you but you push him back. Luciel looks about to protest but you shoot him a glance then focus on Saeran.

“Okay, that's my bad. I'm sorry.” Saeran isn't even looking at you anymore he is just staring at the floor shaking. You take a step closer to him and his eyes dart to you. He is on the verge of hyperventilating and soon his knees give out. It looks as if he is struggling within himself. You come two more steps closer before getting on your knees as well, never once breaking eye contact.

“Saeran,” You say gently, “can you listen to me?” You wait until you see a nod, you smile at him. “Good, do you think you can talk?”

“Yes...” his voice is barely above a whisper.

“Perfect. Is it okay if I take your hand?” After some hesitation he grabs ahold of your hand. “Now can you name 5 things you can see in this room?” It takes him a few seconds but he finally replies.

“The stove, fridge, table, dishwasher, Saeyoung,” you assume Luciel is Saeyoung and don't say anything.

“Great, now can you tell me 4 things that you feel? Physically.”

“The floor, my clothes, heat, you,” You smile at him again.

“You are doing great sweetheart, 3 things you can hear?”

“My heart, the clock, the food cooking.” at this Luciel panics and goes to turn off the stove and you can see the smallest upward lift of Searan’s lips.

“Okay. 2 things you can smell?

He gives a small smile, “the food again, and your perfume.”

“Awesome, and one thing you like?”

“Ice cream.” Saeran closes his and breathes deeply. When he finally opens his eyes again he looks calm and kind of embarrassed.

You beam at him again, “Is it okay if I give you a hug?” Saeran looks at Luciel and then back at you before nodding. You lean and give him a small hug before getting up. You offer to help him but he gets up on his own. Without another word, you go back and start cooking again. You smile over at him.

“Again, if you aren't comfortable I can leave you a plate in the fridge.”

Saeran blinks at you but quickly makes his face emotionless. “I think… I'll eat with you guys.” He then sits down at the table and starts to play on his phone. Luciel looks between the two of you before smiling and going over to join his brother.

****

The dinner was pretty fun, after everything cooled down. Saeran and Luciel were bittering back and forth, they sounded like an old married couple. And when you voiced your opinion Saeran faked gagged and smirked at you, while Luciel hugged you and faked whined about how you were his wife not Saeran who then hit the back of Lucel’s head.

The boys insisted on doing the dishes, not that you put up much of a fight. You left the kitchen to go sit on the couch, you could hear them talking but didn’t want to listen in. You put your focus on some game on your phone until you heard footsteps coming your way. You turned to see Luciel coming and he plopped down to lay on the couch, using your lap has a pillow. You began to play with his hair and he hummed in contentment. It was silent for a moment before Luciel spoke.

“He was right you know, that isn’t my real name.” He looked up at you to see your reaction. You simply smiled.

“That tends to be the case when someone says their “baptismal” name. I even figured that and I’m not catholic.”

“Hmm good point,” he looked at his hands then back at you. “It’s Saeyoung.”

“Is there a reason why you prefer not go by that name?” You continue to pet his head; how can someone’s hair be so soft?

He looks like he is having an internal debate with himself, like he isn’t sure he should say. Or maybe he is nervous? Does he think you will think badly of him? There is no way. You are about to tell him that he doesn’t have to tell you if he doesn’t feel comfortable.

“Because our mother is a bitch,” you startle when you hear Saeran speak from behind the couch. “I won’t give you the gruesome details but our mother was a terrible person. She would beat us for shits and giggles.”

“That’s not--” Luciel starts but Saeran stops him.

“It doesn’t matter why, all that needs to be said is that she did.” Saeran looks at you and his face softens a bit. “Thank you for earlier.” You shake your head at him.

“There is no reason to thank me, I was just trying to help.”

“Still, thank you,” You want to ask but you know you shouldn’t Saeran must see it in your face. He walks over and sits on the table in front of you. “I know I probably shouldn’t tell you but I’m going to anyway. We all need someone who wasn’t a part of this mess to know what happened. I don’t freak out like that just because of our mother. ” Saeran looks over and Luciel (Saeyoung?) who has sat up and is staring at the ground. “I am going to make it short and probably leave out some details but I’ll tell you the gist.” He stops to take a death breath. “There was this woman, Rika, who may or may not have had a few loose screws. Well, she basically started a cult, Mint Eye, the purpose of this cult was to bring paradise. It was pretty vague on that part. She brainwashed me and turned me against Saeyoung instead of helping me like she was supposed to. In doing so I hurt a lot of people, including Yoosung and almost MC.” He stopped to take another breath. “I was going to either blow up MC or kidnap her or something. I don’t know but Yoosung and Saeyoung saved her. She and Saeyoung then came and saved me. There is a bunch of details that I really don’t want to go over but basically that is the gist.”

Saeran was looking at you waiting to see what you would do. You stood up, and pulled him to his feet as well. He looked kind of scared but stood up anyway. You didn’t ask for permission, you didn’t even think you just hugged him. He stood stoic for a while before finally hugging you back. You felt him shake a bit but he stopped so quickly you weren’t sure if you imagined it. He released you and then awkwardly patted your head before leaving the room.

You look over at Luciel, whom has been quiet this whole time, he doesn’t move so you go to sit next to him and wrap an arm around his shoulder. He, in turn, wraps his arms around your waist. You sit in silence for a bit. Your mind runs wild, but selfishly, not on the information you were just given. You could tell him, both Saeran and Luciel, they would understand! You haven’t told anyone the full truth, not even MC. Your life is full of half turths, but these two? They could know it all and not look at you any different. Right?

“From now on,” you look down at Luciel who is gazing up at you. “Call me Saeyoung.”

[sorayahigashikata]

Chapter 86: "Rotate, Mr. President."