#my fingers are crossed for Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) to play while I’m crying in line for my free Starbucks

[lukeslywalkers]

Happy Dec 1st ONLY to my fellow December birthday kids! I wish you all get the best crying song on your special day to really add to the drama!

[momoshin]

boss— ryujin

smut!!

“you’re home” a warm smile spreads through your face as you turn away from the bathroom mirror, heartbeat speeding up as your wife walked towards you with a coy smile on her face.

“i told you” she starts, putting her phone and rings on the counter before wrapping her arms around your waist. “home before christmas”

“i missed you” you let your hands wander, from the part of her chest you could see, to her neck where you caress the extent of her shoulders under the blazer, to the nape, where you play softly with the hairs that rested there. “been a long week, without you”

“i’ve missed you too angel, i’ll stay longer this time” ryujin presses a kiss to your neck, and trails a few more up your jawline, but then stops right above your lips. hers would graze against your own and you could feel her hot breath tickling them, knowing she probably felt the same.

“or” you start, sneakily lowering your head so much so that your lips ended up against her pulsepoint “you could take me with you”

“sweetheart-“ 

“we’ve talked about this” she sighs, enjoying the proximity yet not letting it cloud her thoughts “you’ll just put yourself in danger; besides what could you possibly bring to the table?” there’s a lace of tease in her voice, because knowing you, you’d probably try to prove yourself to her.

“im a big girl ryu, i don’t put myself in danger” you accompany the words with quotation marks “and- lots of things, for example:” looking up to meet her eyes with your own, you continue, though not before putting your hands on her upper arms, admiring how the tight sleeves looked around them.

“distraction” you smirk.

“yeah?” and she smirks right back, watching you nod. “then how about you be my distraction right now, and i’ll think about it” subtly, she uncrosses her arms and places them on your waist, starting to slowly and in small steps push you out of the en-suite bathroom and into your bedroom.

“i’m all yours” you smile, looking down at her lips while walking backwards. “use me.”

you were able to maybe give two more steps before you’re thrown against your shared bed.

ryujin takes off her heels while looking at you squirming on the bed, your silk robe only leaving so much to imagination as she could see through the slit the lack of lace on your hips.

“no underwear?” she starts, leaving travelling kisses on up your soft legs, first your shins, then your knees, and lastly your thighs, where she took her sweet time littering your skin with kisses “were you expecting me or something?”

she wears a smirk as she straightens up and reaches for your lips, melting when your hands cup her cheeks and the two of you finally kiss.

“yeah, yuna let it slip on the phone” you smile against her plump, wine colored lips. “and i’ve been waiting for a long time” you begin, licking her lip and pulling her closer to you by her blazer. “so please take this off- looks expensive”

“I could buy ten more tomorrow” you can feel her lips against your ear when she chuckles, and then they’re gone, because she lifts herself off your body to take off the black piece of clothing, but instead of coming back to kiss you like you expected, she goes back to your legs and undoes the bow holding your robe together.

your breath is already ragged, and her kisses going higher from your thighs to your delicacy do not help, neither does the way ryujin looks at you when she parts your thighs and hooks one of them on her shoulder. you’re anticipating, anticipating her lips on you, around you. but she waits until you’re completely unaware and licks a stripe up your folds, slowly, teasing, and loving the gasp she gets as a reaction.

“mm, sweet” her breath fans against your core, and you’re so close to tangling your hand in her hair and pushing her closer, but you stay put, knowing what she says, goes. and as if she was reading your thoughts, she goes back in. her mouth devours you like you’re her favorite meal, which to be fair, you were, and all that fills the room are your moans and the sounds of her suckling on your bundle of nerves, along with her delighted sounds of satisfaction.

she takes her time too, licking, sucking and nibbling on your delicacy, she knows all your weak and favorite spots, and she loved, loved reminding you of that.

“oh my god” your eyes close, your back arches off the bed and your voice raises a few octaves, one of your hand traveling down to dig your nails into her wrist, that wrapped around your thigh to hold you down on the bed and prevent you trying to escape her hold. “right there baby- fuck, there”

“yeah? gonna cum baby?” you got a glimpse of her chin covered in your juices as her fingers rubbed your clit while she spoke, shortlived, since she quickly goes in again, sucking harder on the bud knowing just what to do to bring you to the edge, and surprise surprise, not even a minute later, you’re shaking and crying out her name and even when you close your thighs around her head, she just keeps licking, drinking all you would give her as if she was starved

ryujin bites your thigh when she finally breaks apart, getting rid of her tight trousers and thin tank top leaving her in a basically nonexistent thong, which you quickly rip off her legs before wrapping your arms around her waist, she straddles you, lips glued together once again, but in a harder way, needier, hotter, wetter, and you could just fine taste yourself off her tongue when you sucked on it just the way she liked.

your hands just about squeeze her ass when one of hers wraps around your neck, pulling you away to break the kiss, her thumb playing with your bottom lip, pulling it softly until she was able to press her thumb against your tongue, prompting you to suck on it, your eyes on hers as if expecting a praise, or a critic, anything really. but all you got was a hum, a smirk, and a push to the chest as you fell back on the bed, only that now, her hands pin yours to the bed.

wet kisses were littered all over your skin, just for a second or two before she crosses your wrists and uses only one hand to hold them above your head, using her other hand to prevent her from falling as she changes her position, one leg above yours and one under, and only when she sinks onto you can you feel her wet center grazing against your own.

“you feel so good babe—shit” her head falls back for a few seconds, only to come back down to stare holes into you with a smirk that you were sure she could read you entirely. “you like this? like when i ride you? hm?” she responds with a grunt when you nod your head yes, biting your lip in attempts to ground yourself.

hot, wet and sinful are the only words to describe right now. your clit rubbing against hers in the most delicious ways, her hand that wasn’t holding yours was squeezing and touching all over your body like she always did, appreciating you more than words ever could. and then she cups your cheek, while still moving, catching your moans with her lips and leaving some of her own against yours. your eyes roll to the back of your head and all you want is for her to let your hands go so you can touch her as she is doing you. to put your hands on her waist and control her movements.

“ryu-“

“what is it baby?” she smirks against your lips, hearing you whimper and feeling your breath against her lips, her hand on your neck and jaw at the same time “words angel, use your words”

“let me touch you, please” you can easily see the way her lips curve into a smirk, and the hand that had been holding your wrists hostage instead moves to the bed so she could support herself, freeing your hands for you to glue them to her hips, squeezing and caressing the skin there but also to help her move in the right motions to hit the perfect spot.

as much as she is dominant she is vocal in bed, groans, grunts and growls fill your ears and oh how you adore the way your name rolls off her tongue along with some profanities. soon enough, the bed can be heard squeaking as ryujin’s hips sped up trying to chase both your highs. you bite her lip in one of the many kisses, maybe slap her ass once or twice to edge her on, and there is no better reassurance than her chuckles against your lips along with a few hisses. she is so close and so are you, her hand holding you close to her by your neck when you kiss and nibble on the skin of her shoulders and neck, sucking and leaving marks with a newfound confidence that would for sure get you in trouble when she saw them in the morning.

but trouble or not, those are what tip her over, therefore taking you as well. the two of you cum with a yell of each others names, her hips slowing as the two of you ride your highs and she chuckles against your lips, kissing you deeply and slowly before gently peeling herself off you.

“i’m running a bath, you coming?” and swaying her hips on her way to your bathroom, she leaves it to your imagination to know whether you were actually going to clean up in the bath or just continue what you started.

[esmecvllens]

I loved your little Christmas one-shot about Carlisle and Esme recently! I don't know if you take prompts or if you like writing sad stuff, but would you be interested in writing a bit about the previous Christmas, those sadder moments you alluded to?

first of all thank you, this message made me so happy 🥰 also, it’s always alright to send me prompts! i wrote this while listening to lana and it shows

this is the fic anon is referring to

december 24th, 1921

Edward was sitting by his piano, but he couldn't focus enough to play. Every time his fingers lingered along the piano keys, he'd stop. He knew Carlisle would like to hear him play Christmas carols as he did every year, but he couldn't stop focusing on Esme's thoughts, on her suffering - silent, yet speaking volumes. She only shared the good moments with them, still hesitant to let her newfound family close enough to share the bad, too, but Edward knew. He always did.

It was always so easy to tell when she was sad. Even though she'd been with them only for a few months, Edward learned more about her in this time than he did about Carlisle in such timespan. Everything Esme felt showed in her expressive eyes, no matter how much she tried to hide her sorrow.

She was sitting by the fireplace, quiet, still, and rigid, with her eyes fixed on the jumping flames. Carlisle sat beside her, but far enough to give her some space. With her knees drawn to her chest and eyes so sad, they could as well be crying, she hadn't said a word for the past twenty minutes. That was not how Edward imagined their first Christmas with her, but knowing what was on her mind, he couldn't blame her for feeling blue. Memories of her last human Christmas were hitting her strongly, only more vivid now because of her new, vampire brain, and Edward felt sorry that he couldn't help her.

Edward knew Carlisle was worried about her but knew no way of showing it. He could be so inadvertent sometimes it blew Edward's mind. Even without his mind-reading abilities knowing what Esme needed would be pretty obvious.

Please, play the song you composed for her, Carlisle thought and sent Edward a quick look from over his book. Edward sighed but did what Carlisle asked for. The second the well-known melody filled the room, Esme stood up, quick as a wink, with her hand grasping onto the material of her dress on her stomach. She looked a bit sick, and her sudden reaction surprised both men. She sent them each quick looks before sharply gasping for air.

"Excuse me, please," she muttered and sprinted upstairs so quickly, in a second the only thing left behind her was the sweet scent of her perfume.

Edward looked at Carlisle and shook his head. Sometimes he felt older than him, especially regarding their acts towards women. Or maybe one certain woman.

"Won't you go after her?" Edward asked his father, and Carlisle frowned sheepishly, a bit torn about what to do.

"Should I? I don't want to startle her," Carlisle replied but tossed his book onto the table. Edward glared at him with disbelief. If he didn’t know Carlisle so well, didn’t know his every thought, he wouldn’t believe a man could be this unintuitive. Carlisle had an overthinking nature, but it was especially visible in his behavious towards Esme - he thought twice about everything he did and said to her.

"Trust me and just go," he said. "Esme needs to talk to somebody, and it ought to be you."

Carlisle walked upstairs slowly, thinking about what he should say. Speaking in moments of sorrow wasn't his strongest side, and he felt a nervous pressure down his stomach, but it was Esme - they began to understand each other even without many words.

He stood by the doorway of her room, and the sound of her muffled sobs got to him through the closed doors.

"Esme?" Carlisle asked quietly, knowing she'll hear him. "Can I come in?"

"Yes."

She was sitting on her bed with legs crossed and a piece of material in her hands, grasping onto it strongly. Only when Carlisle walked closer and sat beside her, he noticed it was a blue knitted blanket, tiny and dirty. He recognized it. It was the only thing Esme had with herself when she came to the hospital to give birth, and she asked the nice doctor to keep it for her son. She never got to use it, but Carlisle kept it in his office. He wasn't even sure why he did it. He brought it back home after she was turned and gave it back to her.

"I'm so sorry I'm ruining Christmas for you and Edward," Esme whispered, looking at him bashfully with those big, beautiful eyes in the color of topaz. The red reflects in them were disappearing slowly, making them more golden with every passing day.

"Please, don't apologize," he replied with a faint smile. "We will have plenty of them."

She breathed in deeply, trying to stop herself from silently crying again. Still watching him, she slowly, hesitantly placed her head on his shoulder. Being close to her felt new, but warm and lovely. Carlisle threw his hand around her and gently rubbed her back, trying to calm her down a bit, but she felt tense under his touch.

"My cousin knitted this blanket for me when we found out I was pregnant. I could never knit, I was too impatient," Esme said, lingering her fingers along the holes in the soft material. "Thank you for not throwing it away."

"It felt only right to save it."

"It reminds me that he was real," she whispered and locked her gaze with his. "I didn't think Christmas would feel this heavy. I was so excited to spend them with you both. I just-"

"You don't have to explain anything, Esme," Carlisle said softly but she shook her head.

"I want to," she took a deep breath, "I want you to understand. I'm so thankful for the life you gave me, for you and Edward, for everything, but I just keep thinking... I keep wondering what it would be like if he lived."

"You would have made an incredible mom, I'm absolutely sure of it," he said with so much warmth and softness in his voice it almost made her break down again. She still felt she didn't deserve him.

"You really think so?"

"Positive."

"You know, I never wanted children," she whispered as if it was something to feel ashamed about. Carlisle had a feeling she never told it to anyone. "I never saw myself fit for being a mother, but it changed when I got pregnant. When I felt him."

He just hugged her closer, not sure what he should say, but she hid her face in the crook of his neck and he felt that it was enough. She was trembling, and he laid another hand on her head and stroked her hair.

"I want to cry," she whispered and bit her lower lip. She couldn't even truly enjoy his touch, still feeling too sad, too uneasy. She ached for the relief of tears, but they just wouldn't come, no matter how much she wanted them to. "And I want to sleep. Anything to- to-"

"To relieve the pain?" Carlisle assumed gently, and she nodded, still ghasting the baby blanket between her fingers. Her suffering was unbearable, and there was nothing he could do, but he would move the heavens if there was a way of making her feel better. "I know, darling."

Esme sniffled as if she was weeping, but they both knew she couldn't be.

"I miss him so much, and I didn't even know him. I only held him once. Once, before they took him."

"I wish I could have done something."

He felt her smile. "Me too."

There was nothing worse for him than seeing her like that; hurt, miserable, delicate. Esme kept on so well ever since she was turned, but broke finally and let her emotions show. Carlisle was surprised she was able to suppress the pain for so long. She was the toughest woman he knew, braver than him or Edward, and he admired it about her.

Esme moved her body to lay her head on his knees. It surprised him, but made him smile. She sighed deeply when he started playing with her thick hair, braiding it to make her more relaxed.

"Don't stop," Esme whispered. She needed warmth, she needed his touch, his body next to her. She wouldn't be able to get through this pain alone. There was a dark veil of sadness surrounding her, and he was the only source of light. Carlisle bent down and kissed her forehead.

"I won't. I will stay here as long as you wish."

She twitched when his cold hands brushed against the skin on her neck.

"Will it ever stop hurting?" She asked after a minute of silence, with her voice tiny and hands trembling.

"I don't know," Carlisle answered sincerely and tugged strains of hair behind her ear. "If it makes you feel any better, I will always be here to help you get through it."

"It does."

He stroked her face with his fingers and she smiled faintly, catching his hand and joining fingers with his.

"Don't feel sorry about Christmas. We'll celebrate when you're ready to."

"Alright," she said quietly against the baby blanket.

"It breaks my heart to see you in pain," Carlisle confessed against his own character and she rubbed her thumb against his knuckles. "Is there anything I can do to make it hurt less?"

"Just bear with me."

He bent down and placed a kiss on her head again. "Always."

[prongsies]

Baggage Pt. 2 • George Weasley

PAIRING: George Weasley x Reader

SUMMARY: Christmas is the perfect time for the Weasleys to get the family together, and maybe it’s also a perfect time to welcome some new members in

WARNINGS: Language, smol bits of angst

PART 1

_______________________________________________________________

Laughter echoed through the walls of the Burrow, over the faint Christmas music Molly Weasley was playing on the radio. The smell of roast chicken filled George’s senses as he stood in the living room with his brothers and Harry, watching in amusement as the two hoisted Fred up from his wheelchair, helping him as he took a few wobbly steps forward.

A warm feeling made its way into George’s chest as his brother neared him, taking a few little steps at a time to get used to the feeling of having to rest his weight on his legs again. 

Of course, being the ever-loving twin brother he is, he held his hands out towards Fred, making grabby hands at him as if he were a child taking his first steps

“You’re a dick” Fred quips when he finally realized what George was doing. He rolled his eyes as Ron and Harry helped him back on his wheelchair, both stifling their laughter - which didn’t go unnoticed by Fred, “That how you lot see me, eh?”

“Please” George started, patting his twin’s head, hurriedly stepping back when Fred made a move to hit him in his regions, missing him by an inch, “You’ve always been a big baby”

“I beg to differ” Fred protested, crossing his arms over his chest, further proving George’s point.

The younger twin was about to retort when Molly cut him off, “Boys, please” She said, wiping away the beads of sweat that had formed on her forehead from the cooking she had done.

Removing her mittens, she instructed Ron and Harry to help help Fred up the stairs so he could get ready, before beckoning George over, “Fred’s potions just ran out this afternoon. Why don’t you go to (y/n)’s and get some more?”

“Now?” He asked, eyes trailing over towards the clock, indicating it was at least an hour before Christmas dinner - something he didn’t want to miss.

Molly followed his gaze before rolling her eyes, gently nudging her son out the door, which he made a difficult task by planting his feet firmly on the hardwood floor, “”C’mon, George!”

“I was just joking! Jeez” George laughed, finally making it easier for his mum to nudge him out. He stopped, turning to face his mother with a smirk playing on his lips, “It is quite admirable you’ve finally distinguished me Fred, mum! Tell me, did my missing ear give it away or the lack of wheelchairs?”

“I swear to Godric, George Weasley-”

“And I’m out” He rushed out the door, into the street while laughing, managing to grab his oat from the rack along the way. He trudged down the snowy street, giving his mother a thumbs up when she reminded him to invite (y/n) over to join them for dinner.

The walk to the store was shorter now, almost familiar to him as he’d been sent out there a few times after his brother had arrived home. He smiled upon seeing it, glistening with Christmas lights even if the store had been closed for the day.

He made his way to the back entrance, where (y/n) had given him a spare key, allowing him to walk into her home freely. Entering the back entrance to your potions lab, before ascending the stairs the led to your home.

He hesitated at first whether he should knock on your door or not, remembering the incident that had occurred just two days ago when he did - which led to you leaving your potion boiling for far too long, and... well, I guess you know what happened next.

His smile dropped, however, upon opening the door. As he walked in, he realized only the lights in the kitchen were on, bleeding over the kitchen island to partly illuminate the living room. There was a potion brewing in the coffee table, and beside the cauldron were vials of what George recognized were Fred’s potions.

Suddenly, he heard faint sobbing in the kitchen. Seeing noone there, he was quick to rush inside, scared that anything happened to (y/n), only to see you on the floor, leaning against the back of the island across the oven.

There was something baking inside, which George could only think to be pie, but he shook his curiosity off to kneel beside you, opening his arms. Before you knew it, you wrapped your arms around him, him doing the same to you, crying on his shoulder as you mumbled incoherent things muffled by his coat.

“(y/n)?” He said softly after a few minutes, pulling away to get a good look at you. Your eyes were rimmed red and your cheeks were flushed, a clear sign you’ve been crying moments before he had even arrived. “What’s wrong, love? Please tell me”

He cupped your face in his hands, wiping the last few tears that escaped your eyes with his thumbs as you dry-sobbed. “Here,” He stood, fetching a glass from the cupboards and filled it with water, handing it to you as soon as he sat back down. 

He watched as you slowly gulped it down, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his chest as soon as you finished. “What’s wrong, (y/n)?”

“It’s- it’s nothing really” You took shaky breaths to calm yourself, “You shouldn’t see me like this” You laughed softly, trying to clear the air which felt a little too heavy a little while ago. You looked up at him with a smile, only to see that his worried expression hadn’t left his face, “It’s nothing, George, really”

“How is it nothing, (y/n)?” He asked, “You rarely ever cry-”

“We literally just met a week ago, Gee” You joked, nudging his waist, “Besides, just because I don’t cry in front of you doesn’t mean I am incapable of doing so”

“I know,” He sighed, “I just don’t like seeing you sad s’all. I mean, you saved my brother’s life - you made my family and I happy, but here you are...”

“Looking like an outright mess?” You offered, earning a playful glare. 

Silence passed between the two of you as you both watched the pie slowly bake in the oven, catching a whiff of the blueberries you had put in there as they cook. “I miss my brother - it’s my first Christmas without him, you know?”

He nodded. 

“Merlin, the last time I saw him alive, we just finished arguing because he wouldn’t let me join in the fight” You laughed, “I called him a git and threw in some very colorful words and you know what he did? He stared at me - only for a few seconds - before laughing and hugging me. He told me he’d find me after it’s over but I found him- I found and he wasn’t moving and- and-”

George hugged you to his chest as you start crying again, allowing you to let all of it out because he knows - he knows how hard it is to keep everything to yourself, to not have anyone be there for you when you feel like you’re drowning in your tears.

He had been that person as well, for months. He sat in heir shared flat above the store, crying in the living room after coming home from visiting Fred, slowly losing hope day by day when his vitals weren’t improving, worrying constantly about how they’re gonna pay the bills, how his dad was doing since he basically lives in his office now to get overtime pay.

But the difference was, he had a family to go to - he had Bill and Charle, even Percy, to cry to. A family who visits him whenever he doesn’t make contact with anyone for weeks.

He jumped at the sound of a Ding! from the oven, you pulling away from him as soon as you heard it. With a sniffle, you stood up from the floor and grabbed a napkin from the island, blowing into it before shooting it into the bin. George followed suit soon after you, silently watching you pull the pie from the oven.

With a smile, you turned back towards George, “I’ll get ready, yeah? Wait for me here”

You were the center of praise as you joined the Weasleys in the dining room, everyone raising their glasses to you in a toast for helping Fred recover after everything. Beside you, George smiled, patting your knee in thanks as he used his other hand to raise his own glass.

With that, you moved into your room. disappearing behind the door, leaving George alone. 

____

As the dinner ensued, the table was filled with chatter. Hermione, who sat across you, asking about how much research you had to do to be able to get the potion right, to which you replied by jumping into the story of how you managed to burn off your full head of hair after trying it out.

This reminded Fred of the times he and George would lock themselves in their room, managing to burn off their hair as well trying to come up with something new to add to their products.

Finally, when dinner finished and everyone retreated in the living room to exchange presents, George invited you to take a walk with him outside, just to get a breath of fresh air since majority of the questions asked were directed towards you and your work.

“You family is something, no?” you remarked as Charlie’s laugh made its way into your ears, even if you stood meters away from the home, “They’re very lovely - especially Bill”

“Bill, huh?” He teased, wriggling his eyebrows at you, making your cheeks warm up.

“No!” You slapped his shoulder lightly, “He just- he reminds me of my brother”

“Well, he is the ideal older brother figure” George agreed.

You hummed in response as your eyes settled onto the night sky, marvelling at the stars. You didn’t notice, but he was staring at you as you kept your gaze above, entertaining the warmth he felt in his stomach and chest as he watched you.

“Hey, (y/n)” He cleared his throat, cheeks feeling hot now as well.

“Hmm?” You looked at him. He was fumbling with his fingers as he kept a respectable distance away from you.

“Do you... want to go out sometimes? Just us?”

“Funny, I was actually hoping Bill would come along” You joked, smiling as he gave you a flat look, “Really, though? Me? You know I’ve got a lot of baggage, are you sure you’re ready for that?”

“(y/n),” He chuckled, grabbing both of your hands, “I literally screamed at you the first time we met, do you think you’re the only one with baggage?”

You rolled your eyes, your smile now turning into a full-on grin, “So? Do you?”

“Yes,” You replied.

He grinned as he pulled you back into his arms, wrapping you in his warm embrace as you stood in the middle of their garden. When he pulled away, he was still grinning, almost squealing in excitement as he hugged you again.

“George” You laughed, “Come on, let’s go back inside!”

“You just want to see Bill” You glared at him, “I’m kidding! I’ve got a gift for you waiting in there anyway”

“I hope it’s Bill”

“Oh, sod off (y/n)”

You laughed as he pulled you back towards the Burrow, your hand in his as you smiled to yourself, knowing that somewhere up there, your brother is happy you have someone to consider as family even with him gone.

[gwoongi]

wordless pt.2

jeon jeongguk / reader genre: hitman (john wick au), sugar daddy au, angst rating: mature words: 4.4k warnings: violence mention, toxic relationships, mentioned deaths a/n: oh fyi jeongguk isnt part of the mafias included in these drabbles, he’s a solo hitman who works closely with taehyung nd other mentioned men. he has his own little business/group of hitmen (like the continental kinda style thing) where he’s sort of the big man who people look up to, but he’s not rly mafia :) hope that helps explain stuff hehehe. Also this one is sad heheheh x2

Sometimes, saying “I love you” is inappropriate, and given your circumstances, you think it might send Jeongguk over the edge if he hears them again.

Parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five

(11) Telling them a dumb joke just to see them smile.

“I’m really sorry, baby. I really am.”

Next to you on the couch, Jeongguk reaches for your hands that are clamped in your lap. The clock ticks hauntingly slowly, and everything feels dark, and cold, and empty. The front room that is usually vibrant with life and energy is now devoid of emotion, besides the sniffles on the couch that are hidden in shadows.

“It’s okay,” you reply quietly, sniffing once again. “Not your fault.”

“I know,” Jeongguk says, “but I’m still sorry.”

There was nothing that could have been done. Not really, even though Jeongguk repents at the thought that he could have done something. It was an accident, a car that pushed into another one and sent your parents off the bridge and into the Han River. It seemed impossible, but as of late, the impossible became possible. Jeongguk had heard the news several hours after you, contemplating in the silence of your responses over the phone. Eventually, he asked Taehyung and got more than what he bargained for.

“Is there anybody left?” he asks.

“Like my family?”

“Yeah,” he softly answers.

You sniff once more, wiping at your eyes with your sleeve. “My aunt, she, uh, she lives in Finland, I think. I don’t know, everybody cut ties after you. Well. After, you know.”

Jeongguk gulps sourly, “yeah. After your brother.”

Somewhere in the city, police sirens blare. From in the kitchen, the small radio still reads out a report of the accident, and if Jeongguk were to rise and look out of the window, he might see the flashing lights from the bridge. When the room goes silent, Jeongguk’s just afraid you’ll hear the report and start crying again.

“Can you, um,” you start, swallowing the lump in your throat, “I don’t know, tell me about your day or something.”

“Yeah, sure,” Jeongguk mutters, rubbing his thumb across your hand. “Wore that badge to work today. You know the Dad one?” You nod and he continues, “Got a stir out of my guys. You were right, Taehyung got salty about it.”

You manage a laugh, little puffs of air from your nose. “I should have got him one. Maybe a brother one, I didn’t see uncles.”

“Fuck him,” Jeongguk says, “My gift, my badge.”

“Don’t wanna upset him,” you shrug pathetically, along with a tight sniff that burns your left nostril.

Jeongguk rubs your arm, “He’s not gonna be upset. Seeing you upset makes me upset, though,” he says quietly, and you peer around your hair at him, “what kind of Dad would I be if I let my little girl be upset, hmmm?”

He raises his eyebrows like he’s feigning an innocence and the sight makes you laugh slightly, not enough to distract you but enough to leave Jeongguk satisfied. He smiles and leans over, dropping his head against yours with a little sigh that blows your hair. It wasn’t enough to distract you from the devastation that is losing your family, but if it’s something to make you feel less alone, then he’ll try.

(12) Following their family traditions that they enjoy.

“I can’t imagine your brother doing this,” Jeongguk says, holding a ribbon of tinsel in his hands with an unconvincing stare thrown in your direction. He does this whilst standing near the doorway, just behind your couch, like he’s ready at any moment to leave or come inside.

As he does this, you’re across the living room, waltzing with a tree that stands on an angle, lopsided and skinny and naked with no decorations. The lights sit in a snake-like swirl on the floor, flickering on one setting and in resignation, you sigh loudly and turn to face him.

“Well, the last time he helped me decorate a tree, I was five,” you reason. “It’s been a long time, but my parents always did this with me, and-”

“Yeah, I know,” Jeongguk frowns. Since the bridge, he’s always walked on eggshells around the subject of parents and traditions. Before he knew it, Christmas was two weeks away, and around his tight schedule and endless demand for his presence at work, he figured he had to make up for the lost time by being with you.

Jeongguk never imagined that he’d rely on you to absolve him of his own boredom and self pity, but here he is, on a Wednesday afternoon in your apartment that he unwillingly thinks of as a retreat, a home away from home when things get too claustrophobic back at his own place. Things are messy and complicated and cold there. He likes being here, because of how it feels being here.

But maybe he’s here out of guilt, and you stare at him for a few seconds, recognising this unfamiliar distance in his eyes that screams guilt and discomfort. You don’t want to mention it, scared of what might be underneath the mask he’s wearing tonight.

“If you’re not gonna do anything, can you at least hold the tree so I can put the lights on it?” you ask. “You can just go, if you want.”

“I don’t,” he insists, moving around the couch. “I just. I never did this as a kid.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he admits, grabbing the tree as you crouch for the lights, “so this feels a little childish.”

You shrug, “nothing childish about Christmas.”

“Everything about Christmas is childish when you have never really celebrated it,” Jeongguk theorises. Now that he’s holding the tree, it’s a lot easier to decorate.

“We can celebrate it if you’d like,” you suggest. He says nothing, “not like all the gifts and stuff, but just in general.”

Jeongguk smiles to himself and moves so you can weave the lights around the branches. “Alright, sounds like it’ll kill my time this Christmas?”

You scoff, laughing lightly. “Well, isn’t that what I’m here for? To kill your time?”

Jeongguk takes a step back once the lights are wrapped around, and throws an arm over your shoulder, bringing you closer to his body. “Something like that.”

(13) Playing your fingers through their hair while sitting next to them on the couch.

Jeongguk had asked you to meet him at his place when he got off from work, and thankfully the guard on the gate had let you up early with the promise of cookies the next time you came to visit. You let yourself up to his suite and waited on the couch, a cup of tea steaming on the coffee table and nothing to do but stare at the ceiling, lit up blue with the city outside.

About half an hour later, Jeongguk comes through the front door and drops his shit by the shoe rack. His keys rattle and drop on the counter and a few moments later, he’s moving across the room to the couch where he drops, knees first, setting his head in your lap as he falls.

“Hey,” you say unenthusiastically, stifling a yawn as he groans and stuffs his face closer into your body. He doesn’t say anything, just lies there, and you gently lock your fingers into his hair that seems messy and almost curly and begin to play.

“Tired?” you ask, and this time he moans in reply, a yes, and nothing else is said.

(14) Singing and dancing to their favourite song.

“Remind me again- it’s definitely okay that I’m here as your guest?”

Jeongguk’s hand on your lower back never disappears as he tours you around the room, gently smiling at people around him with a slender glass of wine in the other free hand. It is on this Saturday evening that Jeongguk finds himself in attendance of the Somber-Rain Ball. Unlike any other time where Jeongguk came solo, or with his colleagues from work, tonight he is joined by you, tailored in a beautiful black dress that sweeps the floor behind you, still somehow modest enough to keep you out of the glazed eyes of the other attendees.

“Yes, it is absolutely fine,” he sighs, steering you out of the self-collected gallery that surely belongs in this large and maze-like mansion. “I wouldn’t have brought you with me if it wasn’t allowed, Y/N.”

“I know, but lately you’ve been doing all sorts of things that you probably shouldn’t,” you remind him, curling into his armpit as you cross the dancefloor towards the bar, that slopes to a side and is scarcely populated. A man who stands there bows his head to Jeongguk but ignores him straight afterwards.

Jeongguk laughs, “Isn’t that my thing?”

“I don’t want to get myself into trouble,” you shrug. Jeongguk smiles and kisses the crown of your head.

“Getting into trouble is my job, dear, not yours.” He faces the bartender and slides the drink, “A round of bourbon after the dance, please.”

“What kind, sir?”

Jeongguk hums, then clicks his tongue, “Try the Brothers’ Bond, I heard you just had it imported.”

The bartender nods, “Certainly, sir.”

Jeongguk nods and turns his attention back towards you, right as the young bartender hurries to find clean glasses for the happy couple. Jeongguk turns to your eyes and smiles at the raised eyebrows he sees, and pulls you further towards him as the orchestra finishes their latest piece.

“Isn’t that the bourbon that the Salvatore brothers made?” Jeongguk asks, feigning an innocence and a forgetfulness for the time you brought it up to his face a few weeks ago. You say nothing besides shaking your head, turning towards the crowd as it slightly thins, just as the orchestra calls it for a few seconds, and a song on the speakers takes its place.

It’s just the first few opening chords but Jeongguk clearly is familiar. He sighs loudly, audibly with an “ah” and then tucks himself closer to you.

“Love this song,” he states. “Miss L/N, care to dance with me?”

You look towards the floor, and then back at him: “Yeah, sure. Is this Doris Day?”

Jeongguk seems pleased as he leads you. He takes a center position, caring little about the potential attention he may attract by taking your waist. It doesn’t stop him from doing so, a smile in your hair as he begins the dance.

“Glad you know it,” Jeongguk replies. “I spent a lot of time with my Aunt when I was younger. She loved this song.”

You hum quietly, “She has good taste. I think this song is in that one Tonya Harding movie.”

“Probably,” he scoffs, kissing your hair again and curling an arm tighter around your middle. He is certainly attracting unwanted eyes. In a metaphorical perspective, this is your first dance. Might be your only dance, but Jeongguk’s not trying to wish away the moment, not just yet.

(15) Calming them down when they have a bad dream.

Bad dream. Not you. Tonight, Jeongguk is a victim. 

He shoots himself awake before you have a time to sit up on your elbows, and he pants loudly, searching around the mattress for a weapon but instead, he finds your hands. Jeongguk jumps.

“It’s just me,” you tell him breathlessly, staring at his wide and wild eyes. He gasps, like he forgot you were even there, but calms when he scurries to take your hand in his own.

Jeongguk hates to feel like he needs help, but tonight, he seeks you first. He slides his hands around yours and finds his grip, remembering where and who and presses a kiss to your hand as you lift it to his face.

“Sorry,” he apologises, “bad dream. I’m gonna-”

“It’s okay,” you assure him quietly, now sitting upright. “You never have to say sorry, okay? It’s okay.”

“Mhm,” he agrees half-heartedly. “I’m gonna….get a drink, or something.”

He rises from the bed and quite literally stumbles to the door, coughing the dryness from his throat as he makes his way to the kitchen. From the bed you sit and watch him leave, knowing from routine that when he comes back, he’ll lie awake, stoney, and won’t rest until the morning. He won’t sleep for the remainder of the night, and he’ll sleep in the office.

Jeongguk never talks of his nightmares. He never tells you about the recurring dreams of his past, his past lovers or friends or family. You know that the dreams must be so bad that he pretends to sleep to keep you from worrying. 

He never tells you that he gets them most when you sleep over, because the more aware he is of you beside him, the more he dreams of losing you.

(16) Having a tickle fight until you’re breathless.

There was no contract for your arrangement with Jeongguk. You were part of a very complicated sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, and there were never really any rules to it. You could fall in love with him all you wanted, but all Jeongguk had made clear from the first date was that he didn’t fall easily, and wasn’t seeing you to fall in love. If you fell for him, he didn’t really care. He’d never fall back. (Right?)

Despite there being no rules, you still always felt like taking photos with Jeongguk often felt like a breach of contract, like breaking the rules. Jeongguk had already shown you off to the world of Mafia and crime at the Somber-Rain Ball, but yet you were afraid to take a photo for your own gallery.

There was one, however, that Jeongguk had taken himself and sent to you when he was on a trip in Athens. It was a slightly dark and blurry photograph, from early when you two had met and Jeongguk felt like he had to get you to stay sometimes by playing the role of a lover. In the photo, his fingers are ghosting at your sides, his face is scrunched and in a smile and you’re rolling around on the covers. It’s a live photo, so it moves for a few seconds.

Jeongguk had made you laugh almost to the point of tears, and you can probably still remember the feeling of knots in your stomach, your voice threatening to pee on his bed if he didn’t pack it in. He stopped, reluctantly. He didn’t want to see you pee. He didn’t want you to cry, either.

Back then, he had been generous to avoid tears. (What changed?)

(17) Folding their clean laundry and putting it away.

It’s been a long day. That was obvious by the way Jeongguk called you at two, and didn’t even want to do anything once you got here. Just got home. Are you free, maybe? Like an idiot, you came.

His place was a sight for sore eyes; by the front door, he hadn’t even taken off his shoes, and a pile of cluster and mess led a trail to his bedroom. You stood awkwardly in the doorway, staring at the way he lay with his face down on the covers, feet hanging off the bed stiffly, the curtains drawn, city blaring, TV on a quite volume relaying the emergency call made to the police this morning about the death of Cho Minsu, one of Seoul’s most controversial politicians.

For a few minutes, you remain in the doorway and he remains unmoved.

“...and, although the call made to the police department this morning was made anonymously, the leader of the police department, Choi Seungkwan, seems to believe that the call was made by at least one of the rumoured underground organisations within this city. Just last week, the Twin Tiger Mafia were making headlines after a fire was caused in the center of Seoul, but there have been no confirmations from the police at this time, nor has a statement been issued by the President. One witness said it was the work of one man, which leads the authorities to believe that this is the involvement of a third party.”

Jeongguk appears glum by the news but doesn’t switch it off. As he wallows in his own self despair, you turn back towards the main section of his home and take in the mess. There’s a smashed frame on the floor, and the kitchen is disgustingly overcrowded with dishes, and ashtrays that are like mountains. The living room is cold and empty and clothes hang over the back of his couch. Here, you find not only his clothes from the night before but also the suit from the ball, as well as underwear you know isn’t yours.

Quietly, and without a fuss, you reach for the unknown underwear and with your hand tucked underneath one of his clothes, you scoop them up and toss them into the washer in the kitchen. The ashtray is cleaned, the dishes are put in the dishwasher, and the curtains are drawn. Jeongguk must be asleep by the time you come into his bedroom, carrying the clothes you folded for him to set away in his cupboards.

This will be the second time you have cried in his bedroom while he was sleeping, and as he sleeps, peaceful and perhaps even remorseful, you return back to the front door and slip into your shoes.

(18) Sharing a soft smile across a crowded room.

You dream of him.

It’s the night of the ball. As you’re in the arms of Taehyung, stuck in a dance that will make you look less like a trophy wife for Jeongguk, the man himself is stuck in a conversation near the bar. Probably halfway through the waltz, you manage to lock his gaze. It’s like a movie, where the characters meet in slow motion, and everything seems to be slower and more passionate. All he does is smile, so gently and softly that it doesn’t even look like him.

It’s gone and he’s back to a straight face in conversation before you know it, but it’s enough for you to dream about it. Maybe this time, you’ll add a little bit to it, and create a new story to replace the original. One where the circumstances might be different, or the song, or the man you’re with.

(19) Bringing them a plate of their favourite sliced fruit.

“...what the fuck is a ‘BARB’, again? Surely not the Barbs, right? Right?”

Slowly but surely, you may be going insane behind this computer screen. You woke up in a cold sweat to the assumption your paper was due today, only by happy surprise to figure out it’s due next week, on a totally different day. It was eight, the sun was shining, and all Jeongguk can hear as he wakes up is keys tapping away relentlessly.

He stretches his arms and moves from the bed, swinging his feet to the floor and as if he owns the place (although if he’s being technical, he does) he heads to the shower and gets himself cleaned for the day he has planned ahead. Jeongguk showers, brushes his teeth and jumps into the clothes he came here in. By the time he’s out, he has time to poke his head into your makeshift study, which used to be a laundry room before the bastard thing broke and you had it moved to the bathroom instead. You’re still working, one leg up folded and a string of swear words leaving your mouth as you stare at the blinking word document.

Jeongguk frowns, nonetheless unsurprised by your antics. Ever since you went back to school, he’s been seeing less of you. Truthfully, it’s fine; Jeongguk is more than used to being alone and he doesn’t like to spend too much time with you. Not because he doesn’t like to, but quite actually for the opposite reason. Jeongguk likes you too much that he’s afraid he’ll give more than he wants to get back. Why fall in love when he can’t afford to?

Jeongguk moves to the kitchen, opening the fridge and getting a bottle of water. Sucking his teeth, he closes the fridge and grabs two apples from the bowl near the kettle. He twists the little device he found from your drawer and removes the stalk for both, cutting shapes out of the fruit into a bowl. He tosses the utensils into the washing up bowl for you to tackle later when you inevitably procrastinate, and before he leaves to go to work, Jeongguk heads back towards where you sit and brings the bowl just in between your hands, in front of the keyboard.

You look up with alarm as he does this, frightened because he came in so silently. He smiles quickly, innocent, and leans forward to kiss you. He tastes like toothpaste.

“Morning, gotta go, though,” he says in a hurry.

Before he moves back, you lean up and steal a second kiss, “so early?”

“Mm, I have to go to work,” Jeongguk replies.

You glance at the fruit. “Did you cut this?”

“Yep. I know it’s so hard to chop fruit, but I did it all by myself,” he jokes. He kisses you a third time, “Really gotta go. Don’t call me ‘til you finish this fucking paper.”

“Like that’s ever gonna happen,” you grumble, turning to the screen with a frown. Jeongguk smiles to himself and ruffles your hair, just before he steps out of the office and leaves you in the silence, collecting his things and leaving before Taehyung threatens to put a bounty on his head for being late to work again.

(20) Washing their back/hair in the shower.

“Fuck, shower sex sucks ass.”

You turn around, almost offended. “What?”

Jeongguk laughs loudly in the comforts of his own bathroom, leaning for a shampoo off the shelf. “I’m not saying you’re bad, I’m just saying it sucks. It’s so...slippery and hard.”

“I thought you liked it,” you reply.

He shrugs.

“Then why the fuck do you insist on it,” you sigh, spinning and leaning for the bottle. He moves it away, “Don’t be stingy.”

“I’m gonna wash your hair for you,” Jeongguk explains, squirting a generous amount into his hands. “Turn back around, love when your ass is against my dick like that.”

You roll your eyes and do as he says. He’s a kidder after he fucks you. Probably a pride thing because he knows he’s done a good job. Jeongguk massages the shampoo into your hair and inhales the scent, because it’s a new seasalt fragrance he saw on Youtube when he was looking at interviews for this one super secret guy he’s after, and apparently Adblock for Safari is shitty and never blocks ads on videos.

“Smells good,” you compliment. “Buy this for your other bitches, or just for me?”

Jeongguk smirks. “Nah, they got the banana one.”

“I thought you hated that fragrance.”

“That’s why they have it and not you,” he says simply. You don’t know whether or not the reply satisfies you. For one, it tells you that you’re his favourite, but it also tells you that he is indeed fucking other girls, which is something you were never totally thrilled to accept or believe. It conflicts you, to the point where you’re silent as he washes your hair.

“What?” Jeongguk asks finally, pulling at your head and half forcing your face to him. “You mad?”

“No,” you reply. “You done with my hair?”

He lets go, “Yeah. Just rinse it out.”

You do that, staring at the little drops of water on the shower door. Jeongguk sighs and switches positions with you, staring at your shoulders as you wash the shampoo out.

“Are you really mad?” he asks.

You sigh, “I’m not mad, Jeongguk.” You peer at him, “promise.”

“Bullshit,” he exclaims, like he’s tired. “I thought you knew I saw other people.”

“I did,” you lie. “It’s fine, really. I’m not, like, judging you for it.”

“Why’s it feel like you kind of are?” Jeongguk asks in response.

You shrug, “You tell me.”

The bathroom’s cold as the shower switches off and Jeongguk leaves first, stepping into the living room with the towel around his waist as you get dressed into a gown in the bathroom.

He looks over his shoulder at you as you exit, turning off the light and looking for your clothes around the room. He tugs, sick and frowning, and so he slowly moves for you across the bedroom. As you’re looking down at your clothes curled up on the chair by his drawers, Jeongguk snakes his arms around your waist from behind and slowly brings you up against him.

You close your eyes, as if to prevent yourself from saying something, and he kisses behind your ear. “I didn’t mean to make you unhappy, baby.”

“You didn’t,” you tell him.

“You know you’re a bad liar,” he mutters. “That’s why you’ll be a good journalist, you’re too good at telling the truth.” You resign, knowing he’s said this speech before. “You can be honest with me.”

You turn in his arms. “Look. I’m not mad. Mad’s not the word. Disappointed, maybe, but life is full of disappointments, you know? I mean. I don’t know...I moved across the city just to live next to you because you asked me to, I thought it could be easier for us to both get what we want out of each other and so it just...kind of sucks that you need other people? It’s like, am I not filling the gaps enough? I thought sugar daddies only had one baby at a time, I thought they were lonely old men.”

“Do I look old to you?” Jeongguk asks, missing the point. Only he knows the point. “And, look. You bring out the best in me. Just look at me.”

“I am looking at you, Guk,” you lament, “but I just see you, and this guy who wants more than he has. It’s sucky, for me, I guess.”

He thinks on that for a second. “You’re not just a baby for me, you know that, I know that, everybody knows that. I don’t even pay you when we see each other anymore, you can’t tell me that’s the same thing we expected to have a few months ago, right?”

“Right, but-”

“But, what?” he questions. “I’m here right now because I chose to be, and because being with you just feels...natural, I guess. I don’t like just calling you to fuck for five minutes because I got stressed out at work. You’re more than that to me.”

It struggles to settle in your stomach, and he stares down at you almost pleadingly. “You know that. You do, come on.”

“Baby...Look. If I was natural, and if I was more to you than a baby, then you wouldn’t need to be calling other people when you’re stressed. If you really needed me, you’d need me. It’s that simple.”

Jeongguk shakes his head, letting go, “It’s not that simple.”

“No, Guk, it is that simple,” you murmur. You smile at him, because you don’t want him to feel too bad about it. He simply stares at you, saying nothing as you look back at your clothes. “I have class tomorrow, so I’m gonna head home.”

He says nothing.

“Good night, Guk,” you call from the front door a few minutes later. He doesn’t reply, and the silence does it for him.

[chickensarentcheap]

Never Gonna Be Alone- Chapter 14

Warnings: possible body dysmorphia, mentions of past trauma and abuse

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @tragiclyhip​

Author’s Note: I have a serious case of extremely low self esteem (thanks anon hate!) and I can’t promise when the next chapter will be out. I’m hoping within the next few days. Fingers crossed!  So I’d post the one I was holding ‘hostage’. 

“I’m not too sure about this, Des,” Esme grumbles from behind a change room door in Bloomingdales.

It’s the last stop of the afternoon before a well deserved lunch; highly praised Thai food at a restaurant near Rockefeller that Desi had to book weeks in advance. It’s been years since she’d been THAT engrossed in a shopping trip; her feet aching and her cheeks hurting from laughing so much and dozens of bags in her possession. For twelve years she’s been caught up in her role as a mother; putting her own needs and wants on the back burner in favour of always making sure the kids never went without. Even with a ridiculous amount of money in the bank, she’d never concentrated on herself; perfectly content with her quiet and unassuming life in Australia, living rather simply and not needing much more than shorts, t-shirts, a small selection of bathing suits and a handful of jeans. It feels strange to be out in something other than her normal and preferred attire; used to choosing comfort over actual style and doing little more than throwing her hair up into a ponytail or messy bun. It had been nice to experience all of that again and had found herself most missing those younger days. When she’d pass the time with hours of window shopping and mindless browsing; daydreaming about all of the designer clothes and shoes and handbags she’d one day purchase if she ever won the lottery. But back then, it had been just that: daydreaming. And she can’t help but feel slightly guilty for splurging and buying things just for the sake of having them; outfits she may likely never wear and will hang in the closet with their original price tags still attached.

It’s hard to break free of that line of thinking; easily remembering the hard times when there’d been hardly any food in the cupboards and there’d been real worry about whether the utilities would be shut off or not. When Millie was still growing inside of her and she’d been trying to adjust to her new life in a new country; living with a man she barely knew but she already was already falling madly and crazily in love with. Materialistic things have never truly mattered; never heartbroken when she couldn’t afford brand new clothes or when their little apartment was filled with mismatched second hand furniture. Despite the financial concerns, they’d been truly happy. Engrossed in a ‘honeymoon stage’ of unbridled passion and lust; finding themselves thoroughly exploring and enjoying one another’s bodies while getting to know each other. It hadn’t been the most conventional of lifestyles; two broken people finding solace and healing in one another in Dhaka, an unplanned pregnancy, and quick and hasty cohabitation. And there’d been hard times; little quirks and hangs up the other had that annoyed them, heated arguments over stupid things, lingering trauma and plenty of nightmares thanks to their harrowing experience in Bangladesh. But somehow they’d made it work; a temperamental and moody Australian and a feisty and over emotional American. Falling in love despite their often enormous differences and making something so beautiful and lasting out of almost nothing.

“I don't know if this dress is my thing,” she frets, and smooths her hands down the side of the ridiculously expensive dress. It’s far more than she’d ever imagined paying for a single piece of clothing; immediately checking the price tag and having a small coronary when Desi had shoved the garment in her direction. Money is of no concern; in a thousand lifetimes the personal bank account will never run dry, nor will there never be a steady flow of impressive income coming in. But it just isn’t who she is; a woman with her wardrobe filled with designer apparel, far more comfortable in sweats from Target and one of her husband’s ratty t-shirts. “I’m just not too sure about it.”

“What is there NOT to be sure about?” Her friend’s voice filters in from the waiting area. “It’s Herve Leger. One of his best pieces yet. And it’s fabulous and it will look even more fabulous on you.”

“It’s too short,” she laments, and tries in vain to pull the hem down closer to her knees. “I don’t have the legs for this.”

“You don’t need legs for days to slay in that dress. And Big E, I’ve seen you in shorts. I know you’ve got killer stems. You can definitely pull this off. You’re worrying over nothing.”

“But it’s too tight. Way too tight.”

Desi sighs in exasperation. “It’s supposed to be tight. It’s a bandage dress.”

“It shows my rolls.”

“Excuse you? WHAT roles? Like you have rolls. Bitch, please.”

“I’ve had seven kids. Believe me, I have rolls. I’m twenty pounds heavier than when I first met Tyler. Twenty-two, actually.”

“And does he give a shit? No. I bet he likes the curves. I don’t see him complaining. Or looking at other women. He only has eyes for you.”

“Most biased man on earth,” she mutters, and studies her form from all sides. Easily remembering what her body had looked like almost thirteen years ago; thin and toned and extremely fit. A far cry from the ‘softness’ she possesses now; dips and valleys and curves where none had ever existed before.

“Isn’t his opinion the only one that really matters? Doesn’t he find you a straight up hottie?”

“That is not the point. He could be just trying to spare my feelings, you know.”

Desi gives a derisive snort. “Isn’t he still tripping over himself trying to get into her pants every available chance he gets? Quit your bitching. You’ve got a beautiful man that worships at the temple of YOU. Now get out here and let me see you.”

“Rolls, Desi. I have rolls.”

“Bullshit. And even if you did, that dress is like a corset. All the different bands built in? They hold everything. And I doubt you have anything to hold in the first place. Don’t make me break down the door and drag you out here. I am not above creating a scene. You should know this by now.”

“Don’t you dare go full queen diva on me.”

“Oh, I will. I will kick that door in and drag your tiny ass on out here for the world to see. Desmond Brownell does not play games. He’s on a mission. And his mission is to see you in that Herve Leger. Don’t make me pull a mommy move. Don’t make me count to three.”

“I tend to go with five, but…”

“Five then. Don’t make me go that direction. Because it will not end well for you. Or me. There’ll be tears. And not on my part. And most likely security guards tossing us both out on our asses. So we do this either the easy way or the hard way. And believe me, you don’t want the hard way.”

Sighing heavily, she smooths down the back and sides of the dress and once more tries to pull the bottom closer to her knees. To no avail. It is so far out of her comfort zone; a woman that insists on always covering her bathing suit with a t-shirt and refuses to remove it. “I am going to sneak into your house at night and kill you in your sleep,” she declares, as she undoes the hook latch on the door and swings it open. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this. Keep your eyes closed. Until I tell you to open them.”

“I can’t believe YOU don’t realize that you’re a bonafide MILF. Even if it’s not for you, how bad could it be?”

“Ever seen a sausage when you try and stuff too much into the casing?”

“Have you ever talked to a shrink? You do not look the way you think you look. What DO you see when you look in the damn mirror?”

“I see gray hair, wrinkles, and stretch marks. I see frumpy and plain and boring and just…” sighing, she steps into the middle of the waiting area and frowns at her reflection being cast in several different mirrors. “...old. I see old.”

“I think you’ve done lost your damn mind. Shred brains cell with every baby you had. Because you sure as hell don’t look old. Not even close. Can I look yet?”

“Do you want to be traumatized?”

“Do you WANT me to beat your ass? Tell on you? I’ll tell your hubby. Don’t underestimate me. Then both of us will get on your ass and then what?”

“He’s hardly a good judge. He’d tell me I look good in a garbage bag. He is proof that love IS blind.”

“He is proof that there’s good men out there. Good loyal, faithful men. That love every inch of their woman. Inside and out. You know how lucky you are? To have someone like that? Do you see anyone strong enough to drag him off? I’m sure he’s had plenty of opportunities.”

“If the thirsty housewives back home and the new neighbour had their way, he’d be getting all kinds of ass. All kinds of variety.”

“What new neighbour?”

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you over lunch. But yeah, he’s got a harem of women that would love for him to be tapping it.”

“But he loves tapping YOUR ass. And only your ass. Does he have a brother? Have I ever asked that? A gay brother by chance? Or a gay friend? Bi friend? Help me out here.”

“No brothers. No siblings at all. No gay friends. Not that I know of. But you know who WOULD have a gay friend? My sister in law.”

“I thought he didn’t have siblings?”

“Not Tyler. My sister’s wife. Shaena. She’d for sure have gay friends. And hot ones. You’ve met her.”

“Both her and your sister are fine as hell. I wouldn’t mind getting in the middle of THAT. Hook a brother up. Make it happen. I’ll be at your little Aussie Christmas. Score me a date for then. In the meantime, can I open my eyes now? Don’t leave a brother hanging.”

“As long as you promise you won’t laugh.”

“I am calling you a psychiatrist. You need help.”

“Fine,” she turns her back towards her friends, hands perched upon her hips. “ Look. But no smart ass comments and no laughing. My confidence can’t take it.”

“Your confidence needs a serious makeover. Now let me see.”

She watches through the mirror as his eyes flutter opening; slowly widening as far as they possibly can, followed by a dramatic collapse back into his seat and a hand placed over his heart.

“Fuck…” she grimaces. “...that bad?”

“That bad? That GOOD. Desmond Brownell approves. You look…” he gives two chef’s kisses. “...delicious. I’d bang you. And I have high standards.”

“I’ve seen some of your dates. Your standards are questionable at best.”

“You wound me, Big E. Mortally wound me. That…” he nods in her direction. “...was made for you. Your body is tighter and hotter than you obviously realize. Curves like a back road. And there ain’t nothing wrong with that.”

“You don’t think it’s too much? Or should I say, too little? I am forty-one.”

“Who gives a shit? You look amazing.”

“I’ve had seven kids.”

“Especially amazing for someone that’s popped out that many crotch goblins. Sold. The dress is sold. This isn’t up for debate.”

“I can’t buy something like this. It’s just...not me.”

“It damn well is YOU. I’ll buy it for you. A little extra Christmas gift.”

“A thousand dollar dress is hardly a little Christmas gift. And it’s a little pricey, don’t you think? For fabric?”

“Honey, you really need to get out of Target and up your shopping game. I know how much money you all have, I know you can afford it. I know you could probably afford this whole store. And then some.”

“It isn’t about money. It’s about me. And being out of my comfort zone. I don’t dress like this. I live on the beach. In Australia. We wear shorts and tanks and never wear shoes. Where the hell would I wear this?”

“Date night.”

“Like we have places I could wear this to. I mean, I guess we could go to Cairns. I’ve seen women in some pretty expensive clothes there. I could always talk him into a weekend away. It wouldn’t be hard. And we are going to Santorini in April.”

“That’d be perfect for Santorini. Hell, just wear it in the house. In the bedroom. Just to spice things up a bit. I’m sure he doesn’t see you dressed up very often.”

“Try like never,” Esme laughs. “Okay, maybe that’s a lie. I DO wear makeup when we go out. And cute little sundresses.”

“What about when you got married?”

“I wore something off the clearance rack at a bridal store in Sydney. Cost a hundred bucks. It was nothing fancy.”

“But you wore a little tiara and veil and all that, right?”

“It wasn’t that kind of wedding. I was five months pregnant with Millie. It was a little wedding chapel. We had six guests. It wasn’t fancy.”

“E, you’ve been robbed. You need that bride moment. What about the first time?”

“Las Vegas. Even more casual. Zero out of five stars. Would not recommend.”

“Oh no, honey. No. That’s wrong. So wrong. You deserve so much better. You deserve a big day. You deserve to be a bride. A REAL bride. Poofy white dress, little bling in your hair, fancy little shoes…”

“Seven kids and I’m going to wear white? I think not.”

“I’m having a serious talk with that man of yours. Vow renewals are a thing you know.”

“He’s brought it up. A couple of times. Which is weird, because I never thought he’d ever think of something like that. This is Tyler we’re talking about. This is a man that can kill people with his bare hands. Who has his own brand of romance. Which I love, by the way. But it’s very odd he’d bring up something like that. Getting married again.”

“Maybe he wants to see you all done up. Looking like a bride.”

“Trust me, Des. Tyler doesn’t care about that stuff. That isn’t him.”

“Maybe he’s come to care about that stuff. Maybe he’s getting a softer side to him. Or, his soft side is getting even more soft.”

“Don’t ever tell him that. He’d kill YOU with his bare hands. Do you really think I should get this dress?”

“I think you’d be stupid not to. And you, are NOT a stupid woman. Treat yourself. You deserve it.”

“You know what? I do. I DO deserve it. And I think he’ll really like it. Maybe I’ll even give him a little sneak peek later. You know, to judge his reaction to it.”

“Oh I think I know what his reaction is going to be. Don’t wear any underwear. Just let him yank the dress up and have his way with you.”

“Maybe you know him better than I realize,” Esme laughs. “Fine. I’ll buy it. But if he hates it, I am totally throwing you under the bus.”

“Alright...alright…” Desi holds his hands up in surrender. “...I’ll take one for the team. Now get your little ass in there and get changed. This big man needs to eat.”

*****

“So this neighbour you mentioned,” Desi says, as he nods his appreciation at the hostess who seats them at their table, then gallantly pulls Esme’s chair out and waits for her to sit. “What’s that about?”

She rolls her eyes. “Natalie. She just moved in a few doors down. Her and her little girl.”

“Are you talking about the blond that has the goddamn gall to wear real fur?” Desi slides into the seat across from her. “The one that needs a chisel to take off her makeup at the end of the night?”

“That’s her. The one who looks like Sephora threw up on her face. Too bad you can’t apply makeup on the inside to make something more attractive. Because she is a real peach.”

“Bottle of your best house red,” Desi requests, and then flips open the leather bound menu placed in front of him. “How’d you meet her?”

“Well, it turns out she doesn’t just have the gall to wear real fur. She also has the gall to go after married men. And in this case, MY man.”

“Uh oh. Something tells me this didn’t end well.”

“I’m very protective of what’s mine. Maybe some people would call it possessive.”

“I definitely would call it that. Not that I blame you. I’d be the same way. Hell, I’d probably never let him leave the damn house.”

“I know what a good thing I have. I know how hot my husband is. I’ve seen him naked. Many times. What’s underneath? Even better than what’s on top. And what’s on top? That’s really damn good, know what I mean?”

“I know what you mean. And I’m just saying, I wouldn’t protest if you sent me nudes of him. Our little secret.”

“My husband IS hot. And he’s beautiful and he’s amazing and he’s this walking study in masculinity. But he’s just that. MY husband. I don’t share. With anyone.”

“Tell me about it. I’ve spent three years begging you just to let me cop a feel.”

“So I don’t appreciate some thirsty female from five doors down, honing in my territory. No one is pissing in my front yard. No one. And it’s not just that I’m possessive and there’s no way in hell I’m sharing great dick, but Tyler isn’t like that. He doesn’t do shit like that. He is a lot of things, but a cheater is not one of them. That is one thing I’ve never had to worry about. He is loyal. Fiercely loyal. And he’s had his chances. If he wanted to stray, he would have. Easily.”

“Never struck me as the type who would. He’s way too in love with you. Way too faithful. I see the way he looks at you. Stars and hearts in his eyes. He definitely thinks rainbows and butterflies fly out your ass. So this Natalie…”

“They met at the park. He took Tanner there; after their morning out. And this Natalie was there. Tyler made small talk. And small talk is even exaggerating. Tyler doesn’t do small talk. Any talk, for that matter.”

Desi nods in agreement. “Took me damn near a whole weekend just to get him to say two words. That voice though? Woody. Instant.”

“Well I guess Natalie took his small talk for something else entirely. Which I don’t get, because Tyler is civil, at best. He’s just not a people person. He tries. But you know what he’s like. How he comes across. He’s very rough around the edges and doesn’t take shit and doesn’t care for formalities. He’s a man of very few words. Whatever words he said, she read way too much into. She showed up at the house. Looking for him.”

Desi looks up from his menu, a scowl forming on his face. “She did not.”

“Oh, she very much did. And get this. She made him cookies.”

“What kind of cookies?”

Esme stares at him pointedly.

“I like details. I’m detail oriented. I can’t help it.”

“Oatmeal raisin.”

“The most traitorous cookie out of them all. For shame. I’m disappointed. If you want a man to climb in your bed, you don’t lead with oatmeal raisin. Please tell me your man don’t like that shit.”

“Rest assured, he hates them and your opinion and lust for him can stay intact. But you can believe that? She came calling on my husband. She brought him cookies. And I’m pretty sure if he’d been home, she would have offered him HER cookie.”

“Probably just as nasty as the ones she makes. Probably got cobwebs and dust bunnies and all that shit. Maybe even a barbed wire fence blocking the entrance. So what happened?”

“Well, she got the cold shoulder and snarkiness from Millie first.”

“That’s my girl.”

“And then I talked to her and she was bitchy and off hand and she’s lucky I didn’t throat punch her. She had all kinds of snarky things to say. About my name, about my appearance, about having so many kids. I let her know that I wasn’t having any of her shit. That I was onto her. I told her I didn’t know what kind of married men she was used to, but my husband isn’t one of them. That he wasn’t...and never would be...interested.”

“And?”

“And she left. We fed the cookies to the dogs. Or tried to. Even they didn’t like them. Man’s best friend, indeed.”

A waitress brings the wine; cheerfully introducing herself before taking their orders. Desi waits until she leaves before uncorking the bottle and filling both glasses. Offering a toast to a warm and safe Christmas holiday and the perks and perils of love and friendships. And they’re in the middle of sharing stories of his last trip to Australia -his encounters with the both the ‘friendly neighbourhood Aussies’ and the wildlife that so freely roams and enjoys their stretch of land- when her cell phone loudly vibrates within the confines of her purse. Had Tyler not been out with all of the children and it not been a common thing to often run into some kind of issues with handling so many bodies, she would have just ignored it. And she wishes she had; frowning at the number splashed across the screen and then dropping the phone back into her bag.

“Your mom again?”

Nodding, she takes a swallow of wine. “Third time already today. Only four or five more to go. Maybe she’ll even make it an even dozen before sundown.”

“Can she not read the signs? It’s quite obvious you don’t want to speak to her. What’s her issue?”

“It’s probably easier to ask ‘what isn’t her issue?’. There’s many. So very, very, VERY many.”

“I already know about what she was like you when were growing up. I’m surprised you turned out as normal and sane as you are. It’s more than that?”

“So much more, Des. Where do you want me to start?”

“Start with the biggest one. Or most recent.”

“She hates Tyler. With the passion of a thousand fiery suns. The seventh layer of hell? I don’t think that even burns as hot as her hate for him.”

“Why? He’s a good guy. Treats you right, loves his kids. Will fight like hell to protect what’s us. Die for it, even. What’s to hate?”

“So you know how Tyler and I met. The whole ‘pretend husband and wife’ thing.”

“Yeah, to find Ovi and save him. What about it?”

“Well you also know what happened. During those five days in Dhaka. Between Tyler and I. Believe me when I say that I’m not normally like that. Spend nearly a week banging a guy I barely know. Unprotected, at that. And at the risk of too much information, Tyler was only the third guy I’d ever been with. Sexually speaking. So what happened between us? Totally uncharacteristic for me. It was unconventional. How we met. But, it worked out. We wanted more. We wanted to get to know each other. See if we could make something out of nothing. And we did. We made a life. A beautiful life. And seven little human beings.”

“And she’s got a problem with that because…?”

“After what happened on the bridge, I decided to stay. At the hospital he was flown to in Mumbai. It was touch and go and he didn’t have anyone else and if he wasn’t going to make it, I didn’t want him to be alone. He deserved better than that. And a week later they brought him out of the medically induced coma and he was breathing on his own and he woke up and he was so happy to see me. You should have seen how he smiled at me, Des. He has a beautiful smile. But that? That smile he gave when he realized I was real and I was actually sitting there? By his bed? I had never seen anything like that and I’ve never seen anything like it since. He was happy and relieved and he wanted me there. He even said he was scared to close his eyes at night because he was afraid I wouldn’t be there when he woke up.”

“He was already head over heels for ya. Guess that was his way of telling you.”

“When the hospital said they were shipping him to another back in Australia, he asked if I would go with him. By then I was already invested. I mean, it was three weeks later and I’d already spent time helping him feed himself and getting him on his feet and to the bathroom and taking him to in-patient physio and all of that. I was already in love with him. Of course I was going to Australia. It was never in doubt.”

“And let me guess, it ruffled your mother’s feathers.”

Nodding, Esme takes a long sip of wine. “She wasn’t in control. Of me. And she couldn’t stand it. Neither she or my brothers no longer had in any say in how I was going to live my life. The Esme they knew? She died on that bridge. Or maybe she was left behind. I had a chance. To make a new life for myself. And I took it. I went to Australia and I decided that was where I wanted to be. I wanted to be with HIM. So I took what money we had and I got us an apartment and he put me in charge of handling everything; medical decisions, financial stuff. And then, I found out I was having Millie. Which, to be honest, wasn’t a huge surprise because what do you expect when you spend five days having totally unprotected sex? And I told Tyler and I gave him a choice. If he didn’t want me or the baby, I’d walk away and I’d go home and I’d never contact him again. I told him I didn’t expect anything from him. And I didn’t want him feeling obligated to me or the baby.”

“That must have went over well.”

“Well, needless to say, he wanted the baby. And me. So I stuck around. I was by his side through his whole hospital stay and through all the therapy and his stint in rehab and then we settled down in our new life. And we got married and had Millie. My family? They couldn’t stand it. They couldn’t accept it. They couldn’t accept HIM.”

“All because you decided to make a new life for yourself?”

“That was it. Tyler became public enemy number one. My mom convinced everyone that he stole me away. That he was manipulative and abusive and that I was scared to leave him.”

“Jesus Christ…”

“Right? Tyler is so far from manipulative or abusive. He lived that life. He was on the receiving end of that. And he’s tried his hardest not to walk in his father’s footsteps. And believe me, he’s nothing like his old man. Not in the slightest. But no matter how much or how hard I argue, she doesn’t listen to me. She sees him as this horrible person. That took her baby girl away. And when he had the nerve to stick up for me? Against her and my brothers? That made things worse! You think they would have been happy. I found this amazing man who’s totally in love with me; who sees past all my bullshit and my ugly parts. That should have been enough for them. A guy that’s made me the centre of his universe. Who makes me happy and who I love more than I ever thought I COULD love someone. Who helped me make seven incredible little human beings. Why isn’t any of that enough?”

“I don’t know,” Desi says. “I wish I did. I wish I had the answers. ALL the answers.”

“Yet they practically idolize Mark. It makes no sense. They knew what he was like. They knew he was abusive. And they enabled him. They gaslighted me just as much as he did. And I would have left a thousand times over had they not constantly pressured me into giving him another chance. Had they not convinced me that everything was my fault. My mom stayed friends with him. Right up until he died. What kind of sick person does that? Stays friends with their own kid’s abuser?”

“You hit the nail on the head. A sick one.”

“Constantly kissing his ass and making him out to be some kind of white knight yet having all this shit to say about Tyler. They hate him because he refuses to be like them. Because he stands up to them. Because for once, someone loves me enough to have my back. That’s it. That’s why they hate him. And the things they’ve said? Especially since finding out he’s a mercenary? Constantly wishing death on him? Saying him dying would be the best thing to happen to me and the kids? Who says things like that? I almost lost Addie because of her. I came back from Ireland because I found out I was pregnant and my mom got on her bullshit and I almost lost my baby. Tyler came all the way back just to make sure I was okay. He wouldn’t have done it if he’s even a fraction as evil as they claim he is.”

“You realize it that isn’t really about him, right? That it’s all them. Because they don’t have that control. Over you.”

“I thought it would be all over and done with when we kicked my brother to the curb. I thought once he and Tyler had it out and Tyler kicked the shit out of him, that would be it. That we’d never hear from any of them again. You know how peaceful it’s been? Five years of no phone calls, no text messages, no emails. Five years of pure bliss. And now this…” she nods down at the purse sitting in her lap. “...her on my ass every day, multiple times a day. Isn’t it enough that I acknowledge that the kids received their Christmas gifts? That I showed appreciation and I said they’d send thank you cards? You think that would be enough. Our lives have been so good. Quiet and happy and peaceful. And it’s like she knows that. It’s like she knows how good things are and just has to screw it all up.”

“Normally I say just ignore them. Just wash toxic people out of your life and keep them out of your life. But if she’s as determined as she is, it’s only going to get worse. She won’t stop trying to get a hold of you. And as hard as it’ll be to talk to her, that might be the only way to get her to stop. Let her know. Say ‘thanks, but no thanks’.”

“I can not allow her back into my life. OUR lives. I can’t allow any of them back in. I will NOT have my kids surrounded by that ugliness. I will not have people around them that talk shit about their father. Because you know what? I know he’s not perfect. I know he has his issues. He’s the first one to admit it. But he is an amazing dad and he is totally devoted to those kids and they love him beyond all comprehension. And I won’t allow people to talk about him like that. I won’t allow them to break my kids’ hearts…” her voice cracks with emotion, and she takes a swallow of wine to clear away the lump sitting square in her throat. “....I won’t let anyone talk about Tyler like that. He’s not a perfect man, but he’s a good man. And he loves me and he loves his kids. He saved me, Des. In every way a person can be saved. And I won’t let anyone disrespect him like that.”

“Tell them that. Tell them EXACTLY that.”

“I have. I have said it until I was practically blue in the face. They don’t care. They say I’m ‘defending my abuser’. In what alternate universe is he considered an abuser? He has never...ever...raised a hand to me. He’s always said he��d kill himself before he ever let things get that out of control. That he’d never be able to live with himself if he even thought about hurting me like that. And maybe in a way, I DO understand some of the way they think. He’s lived a hard life. A violent life. First the military, then as a mercenary. Yes, he’s killed people. With his bare hands. But he’s never done it because he wanted to. Or because he enjoyed it. He did it because he HAD to. Because it was either him or them. He is not a monster. Regardless of what they think. Or even he thinks sometimes.”

“You’ve never been scared of him?”

“Never. And you know what? If he WANTED to, he could do some serious damage to me. He could kill me. No question about it. But that thought has never, ever crossed my mind. I’ve never been afraid of him. Not even at his worst. When he went back to drinking all the time and abusing the pain meds and we fought constantly. And yeah, there were times he DID lose it. Where he put a fist through the wall or grabbed me trying to stop me from walking away or trying to calm me down and talk some sense into me. But I’ve never been scared of him. Because even at his worst, I knew he loved me. I knew none of his issues were about me. That was him and his brain and not knowing how to cope. And they just don’t get it. They think he’s somehow frightened me into sticking around. That he’s been forcing me to have children. Because it somehow keeps me around.”

“Sounds more like they have the issues. Not you guys.” Desi reaches for the bottle of wine, refilling both their glasses.

“We’re not perfect. And Lord knows we have had some really shitty times. Where we didn’t think we were going to make it. But you know what? We did. We fixed our shit and we made things work. We both busted our asses to change. And he still busts his ass every day to make up for all the bad. We work at it, Des. Every day we work at it. Because we love each other and we both know what it's like to be from a broken home. And we won’t do that to our kids. We won’t let them grow up like that. So we work at it. And it hasn’t been easy. But there’s been more great times than bad times.”

“You two are strong. What you got is strong. No one can deny that. I’ve seen it. With my own two eyes.”

“I will not let my family ruin us. They tried. And in Colorado, they almost succeeded. But we got away. We moved back home. Our REAL home. And we never looked back. I won’t let them destroy things for us. Not when we’ve worked so hard to get where we are.”

“You’re going to have to deal with her, Esme. She isn’t going to go away. Not from what I’ve seen.”

“And I will. I WILL talk to her. After Christmas. I just want to get through the holiday. I just want things to be happy and peaceful. Especially for the kids. I don’t want anyone ruining Christmas for them. Once it’s over and things calm down, I WILL talk to her. But right now? I can’t do it. I just can’t.”

“It’s all going to be alright,” Desi assures her, and reaches across the table to give her hand a comforting squeeze. “Everything’s going to work out.”

“Tyler isn’t perfect. He’s the first one to admit that. In the same way I’m not. But you know what? We’re perfect for each other. And in the end, that’s all that matters.”

*****

When she arrives home she finds the three littlest fast asleep; tightly snuggled together on the area rug in front of the Christmas tree and covered by the knitted throw usually draped over the back of the sofa. Saju and Mac nap close by; curled up together in front of the front of the fireplace and merely blinking their eyes in a form of acknowledging her presence. She can hear Millie and Alannah upstairs; giggling and chattering, their feet stomping overhead as they play a dance game on the XBox. The three oldest boys are out in the backyard; laughter drifting inside as they hide behind ‘fortress’ walls and lob snowballs at one another. It's rare to see the three of them enjoying time together. Tanner normally not comfortable with the more raucous play and choosing quiet time; up in his room reading a book or writing stories or building intricate lego scenes in front of the fireplace.

She stands in the sunroom and watches them; smiling at how jovial and lighthearted they are. Their faces bright and happy; no cares in the world aside from the balls of snow and ice being tossed in their direction. Despite everything they’d been through, they’re spirits so brilliant and bubbly, continuing to love the world and everyone in it. Tanner and TJ (along with Millie) are able to remember the more difficult times in Colorado and being whisked to Mumbai under false pretenses; told they were going on a family vacation only to be sent back to Australia without either parent and then told their father very well might never come home. They still talk about it from time to time; how scary it had been to be away from both mom AND dad and how worried they’d been when they thought their daddy may never make it back to them. They’re able to vividly recall visiting him in the hospital; the scars and bruises on his face that had been in various stages of healing, the sling keeping his badly wounded and surgically repaired shoulder in place, the ‘cage’ that had encased his right thigh, the tremendous amount of weight and muscle he had lost. It HAD been traumatic; more than two months without their father under the same roof and seeing him so wounded and vulnerable.

They’d needed their own therapy; the trauma manifesting itself through moments of rage and aggression and troubles sleeping at night. A child psychologist recommended to them by Doctor Klein had done them all a world of good; disguising therapy with music and play and helping them express their emotions and their fears. And within six months they were back to their old selves; grades climbing and their social skills improving, the rage and aggression diminishing. It still haunts them from time to time; a fear that returns whenever daddy has to leave home for work. But for the most part they’ve healed exceptionally well; full of energy and light and humour and possessing enormous amounts of compassion and empathy.

She finds Tyler in the main floor office; a central area of the main floor that had been the previous owner’s sewing and craft room. It’s close enough to keep an ear out for the kids; able to hear them both inside and out. And a security system enables him to keep an eye on any area of the house; live images cast back to the flat screen television mounted on the wall above the desk. Five years years ago she would have called him paranoid for insisting on such measures. Overprotective, even. But that was until someone had gotten close enough to Addie to steal a stuffed animal right out of her crib. Had the culprit wanted her, she would have been long gone in the middle of the night. And they most likely never would have seen her again. The terror of that night is still very real; the thought of someone reaching across her tiny body to take something so simple in the course of sending a very clear message.

After that, Esme had vowed to never call him paranoid or overprotective again. Evil had gotten too close. WAY too close. And she now understands his fierce and rabid determination to do whatever it takes to keep his family safe.

She watches him from the doorway; intently working at the computer. Admiring the glasses perched upon his face and the lines of his profile; the strong, stubbled jaw and the curve of his lips and the bump in the bridge of his nose. The scars that had long ago become part of him. Marring the left side of his forehead and by his left eye; old wounds that he’d possessed when they’d first met. A handful of others have been added since then. The edge of a metal shovel cutting wide and deep; the scar travelling from the very corner of his right eye and up his forehead and snaking up into his hairline. And the ones left behind from Nathan. The one above his eyebrow thin and faint, the one below his eye much wider and jagged and stretching all the way to his temple. That one had been the worst; deep enough for the knife blade to hit bone and cause irreparable damage to nerves and muscle. And while most would see them as blemishes and flaws, she sees it as adding to his beauty; souvenirs of not only a hard and dangerous life, but of survival.

“Hey,” she greets as she wanders into the room. “What’cha doing, handsome?”

“Just some shit that came up. I would have ignored it, but…”

She stands at the back of his chair. Fingers and thumbs rubbing at tense shoulder muscles before wrapping both arms around his neck; leaning over him and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, followed by his temple. “Everything alright?”

“Koen ran into some issues. On the job he took. Not going as smooth as we’d hoped it would. Just had to send him some extra cash. And put him in contact with someone who could get him some extra gear.”

“He’s alright though? He’s not in any trouble?”

“He’s fine. Nothing he can’t handle. I know I said I wouldn’t bother with work stuff until we go back home, but…”

“Sometimes it can’t be helped. It’s the nature of the beast. It isn't the most predictable of careers. I’m glad to see you survived your day out with the spawn. Is your sanity still intact?”

“What was left of it. I don’t know how much I had to begin with.”

“I also noticed all seven AND Alannah made it back. Success.”

“They were good. No trouble. They all behaved themselves. Shockingly.”

“Your feral offspring all behaving at once? Hell must have frozen over.”

He gives a small chuckle, then turns his face into her and presses a chaste kiss to her lips. A frown tugging at the corners of his mouth as he pulls back to look at her.

“What’s that look for?”

“Why do you still have your hat on? It’s fucking boiling in here.”

“It’s part of my surprise. I have something to show you.”

“Yeah?” A slow grin begins to spread across his face. “I’ve already seen you naked. Many times. Not that it’s not awesome each time it happens. I’m not complaining.”

“As much as I’d love to just drop my clothes right here and rock your world, it’s something else. I did something. While I was out.”

“New ink?”

“Nope.”

“You got something pierced, didn’t you. Something naughty. Something very naughty.”

“You wish. Those days are long behind me. But it is a surprise. And I want you to promise you won’t freak out. When you see it.”

“How bad is it? Usually when you tell me not to freak out, it’s pretty fucking bad.”

“It’s not bad. It’s just...surprising. You ready?”

“Is it a good thing I’m already sitting down?”

“It’s probably for the best. Turn your chair towards me and close your eyes.”

“Esme…”

“Tyler…”

“What the hell have you done?”

“Just do it. Humour me. Please.”

“Fine.” Turning his back towards the computer, he closes his eyes. “This isn’t where you tell me you want to try pegging is it? Because I thought I’ve already made it perfectly clear that there is no fucking chance of that happening. EVER.”

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it’s nothing sexual. Get your mind out the gutter, sheesh.”

“I’m sorry, have we met? It permanently lives in the gutter.”

“Never mind viagra. Maybe they can give you something to calm your dick down.”

“You’d miss it. Don’t deny it. It would hurt you just as much as it would hurt me. Are we going to do this surprise sometime today or…?”

Removing the knit beanie from her head, she tosses it out the desk and then runs her fingers through her hair. She feels naked and exposed; the dark tresses that had once reached the middle of her back now shorn and styled into a side parted, sleek bob that skims her earlobes. “Promise you won’t freak out.”

“I promise I won’t lose my shit.”

“Okay...open them...but remember, no freaking out.”

“I don’t know what the big deal is. If it’s nothing dirty or kinky or piercing of some kind…” His eyes flutter open, then slowly widen as the reality of what’s before him sets in.

“You hate it don’t you.”

“I don’t hate it. I just...wow...that’s...NOT what I was expecting.”

“You do, don’t you. Hate it. I knew you would. You always hate when I do something with my hair. Like when I decided to get bangs.”

“In all fairness, I didn’t hate them. I just wasn’t a fan.”

“But you HATE this? This haircut. You hate it being so short, don’t you.”

“Actually…” he slides the chair closer to her and lays his hands on her hips. “...I love it.”

“Yeah?” A smile replaces the nervous frown. “Really?”

“Really. I wouldn’t lie to you, Me. That’s not who I am. Not anymore, anyway.”

“You sure you like it? You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”

“I think you look beautiful. It suits you. You got this cute, tiny little face. Your hair shows it off. I really do love it. You look amazing.”

Placing her hands on the sides of his face, she leans down to kiss him. “It was time for a change. Something different. Something I didn’t have to spend hours on when we go out. You’re sure? One hundred percent? You really do love it?”

“I do. You look beautiful.” Laying a palm on the back of her head, he pulls her down into a kiss. And she laughs into his mouth when his free hand latches onto her hip and she loses her balance and topples into him. “You’re beautiful, Me. Always.”

“I really was worried you wouldn’t like it,” she says, as she settles herself sideways on his thighs. “So you’ve made my day. My year, actually.”

“It suits you. You look amazing, baby. I wouldn’t lie about that.”

“Speaking of making my year, I’m about to make yours.”

“We’re talking about butt stuff, aren’t we.”

“No!” she laughs, and playfully tousles his hair. “I mean, maybe later. When the kids are out.”

“Where are they going? You banishing them to the backyard?”

“Desi offered to take them.”

“All of them?”

“Every last one. Even Alannah. He’s going to take them out for dinner and to Central Park. To see Santa and the reindeer. Maybe do some skating. And then, he’s going to take them to his place. They’re going to have a camp out. In the living room.”

“So we get the house to ourselves? All night?”

“All night,” she confirms. “And well into the morning. You know what that means?”

“Butt stuff.”

She sighs in exasperation. “I means you don’t have to wait until New Years Eve for wild and crazy AND noisy sex with your wife.”

“We might have to tone down the noise. The kids will be right next door. They could still hear us.”

“That’s a fair point. So noisy is out. But wild and crazy are definitely in.”

Tyler grins. “I can do wild and crazy.”

“Oh, I know you can. You’re a master at it. A master at anything sexual, now that I think about it. Man, did I ever luck out. Landing you.”

“I don’t know, I think I’m the lucky one. Girl like you putting up with my shit? You’re one in a million, babe. No doubt about it.”

“I love you,” she says, pressing a kiss to his ear and then nuzzling his temple with the tip of her nose. “More than you could ever know. And thank you. For being you. And for loving me the way you do.”

Smiling, he turns his face into hers and places his lips to her brow; a hand coming up to comb through her hair, palm settling on the nape of her neck. “You’ve made it pretty damn easy.”

[athingthatwantsvirginia]

Not Joyce or Monet

PART THIRTY-NINE OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: major discussions of parent death/death in general, smoking, drinking, plentiful pop culture references

Word Count: 6.3K

Summary: Jess publishes his second book and Ella receives a troubling call from Stars Hollow.

Flopping face-first down onto the bed, Ella breathed a sigh of relief. It would have felt strange not to have a little champagne at Jess’s book launch party. But, she was a lightweight. She was floating somewhere between tipsy, buzzed, and drunk. At least she was still capable of slipping off her shoes before making her way to the bedroom. She’d even managed to change into pajamas, brush her teeth, and wash her face. A far cry from the screwdriver incident at Liz’s baby shower. A heavy winter snow fell outside the windows and a touch of cold air seeped into the draughty apartment. Goosebumps rose lightly on her skin. In her state, they felt nice instead of uncomfortable. She was already dozing when Jess came in, having taken a quick shower. His hair was still damp as he climbed into bed next to her, the movement shaking her from her haze.

“Did you like your party?” she murmured, watching as he shut off the lamp and rolled over to face her.

His face was aglow with the bluish light of the snowy Saturday evening. “Mhm.”

She snickered a bit at his nonchalance. “I know you hate parties, but Chris insisted it was the best way to drum up business. And you do like surprises, Mr. Spontaneity. Matthew and I made it as lowkey as we could.”

“It wasn’t so bad, Eleanor. Really,” he said, shrugging. “You’re remembering that you whispered lines from Catch-22 in my ear all night, right?”

“I figured you’d need some Joseph Heller to make it through,” she explained, slightly sheepish.

Jess smiled. “Of course. And watching Chris and Leo get so drunk they do their acapella version of ‘Under Pressure’ could never be bad.”

“Leo does do a damn good Freddie Mercury,” Ella agreed, chuckling. “I didn’t realize the publishing agents would all go blackout level, too.”

“Oh, yeah. You should’ve seen what Chris did for the Subsect launch. It was like that scene where E.T. gets drunk. But if there were fifty aliens in the movie instead of just one,” Jess said flatly, begrudgingly.

“You must be a little drunk if you’re letting a cheesy eighties movie slip. Or have I finally converted you?” she teased, snuggling deeper into the pillow.

Jess smirked. “Not yet. Chris made me try his Manhattans to see if they ‘tasted too much like gasoline.’”

“I have a sneaking suspicion that they did,” Ella said.

“Someone give the lady a prize,” Jess shot back tiredly. “Good thing we walked there.”

“Yeah. And good thing I got to watch you catch a snowflake with your tongue on the way back.”

“Shut up.”

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed, cutie,” she said, forcing her laughter down. “I’ll be eating my words when you watch me fall on my ass while we’re ice-skating with April.”

She knew if he’d been entirely sober, he wouldn’t have gotten so caught up in his wonderment at the storm. But Ella had also seen him sticking out his tongue awaiting a snowflake in an old, yellowing photo album Liz had shown off during her baby shower. In it, Jess had been no more than three. Dressed in a raggedy winter jacket on some grimy corner of New York City. He and Liz were sticking their tongues out together. Seeing the photo had given Ella’s mouth a bittersweet taste. It was hard to imagine Jess ever feeling so relaxed around his mother. She saw the same rare awe from him on the walk home. Most of the time, he was so weighed down by the world he could barely come up for air. She thought she had never seen him look so young at heart before.

“Can’t wait,” Jess hummed, mocking. It was nearly time for April’s winter break, and Anna had somehow agreed to let her spend it with Luke, Lorelai, and Rory. Ella and Jess had opted to return to Stars Hollow for Christmas, after the bumps in the road on Thanksgiving. Two more days, and they’d be braving the icy roads on their way up to Connecticut. April had already called them to schedule a time for ice-skating. The proper, analytical way the little girl spoke never failed to amuse Ella.

“Me neither,” Ella quipped as her eyelids began to droop again. She could smell the minty scent of Jess’s shampoo.

As he watched her begin to drift off, he leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead. From what Matthew had said, Ella had essentially been put in charge of the party when Chris’s trademark irresponsibility made an appearance. Matthew had jury duty and couldn’t assume his usual role of organizer in the wake of Chris’s chaotic decision-making. What she’d managed to throw together, though, was one of the better parties Jess had ever been to. The publishers they knew usually sent younger employees to the underground press launches, and Chris had ended up making friends with most of the usual suspects at the launch for Jess’s first book. Ella had made sure the guest list only included familiar faces. If they just had to throw him a surprise party, which Chris demanded (normally, she wouldn’t have listened, but if it was a matter of getting his book better exposure, she was willing to risk it), she’d try to make it as comfortable for him as possible. Or, at the very least, bearable.

And she’d just gotten done with finals two days earlier. He could see how tired she was. Her nerves over the possibility of seeing her father during the winter holidays hadn’t helped her sleeping recently either. Though Jess wasn’t sure how it would actually pan out, she claimed she wanted an attempt at apologizing for what she’d said at Adam’s graduation. She was sick of family nonsense, she said. Maybe if she levelled the playing field, they could begin to understand each other again. Ella herself wasn’t sure exactly what had sparked her desire to try again with her family, but suspected it might have been Thanksgiving. Jess, simply put, was someone she admired. Seeing him trying to mend his relationships (even though he didn’t have to, even though it was difficult), made her feel just a little more confident. Maybe not everything turned out bad, after all.

Shutting his own eyes, Jess slipped his hand beneath Ella’s shirt, his fingertips ghosting over her back. She smiled softly at his touch, feather-light. A pleasant shiver rolled through her.

“Thank you for the party,” he said, barely above a whisper.

“Well, thanks for writing my new favorite book,” she answered instantly, sleepy and sincere. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”

.   .   .

There were still a couple hours left until lunchtime when Ella slipped through the door at Truncheon, but it wasn’t entirely uncommon for her to show up and work a little. Especially when she was on break from school and got antsy. Jess had debated giving her the easel he’d bought her for Christmas early, so she would have something new to focus on while he tied up the odds and ends at the book press. But, ultimately, he wanted to wait until the morning after they returned to Philadelphia. It would be far more surprising to wake up and find a Christmas present wrapped up in the living room on the morning of New Year’s Day than on the actual gift-giving holiday.

When he’d left for his last day of work prior to their trip to Connecticut, she’d still been half asleep. Her sketchbook was open on her bedside table, a pencil drawing of a child with hollow eyes having yet to be shaded. She’d been up late working on it the night before, on a roll. He hadn’t even shut the door to the apartment before she was out cold again. He’d been anxious to get back home, to pack and prepare for the trip. In his opinion, there was no use in only opening for a Monday and then closing for the holidays the rest of the week, but Matthew’s stickler spirit won out. Jess wasn’t going to be skipping around the store in merriment as the rest of the world took a vacation, but he also wasn’t moping around like Chris. He was in the midst of diffusing an argument between his two coworkers when Ella arrived.

He wanted to smile when he saw her, and almost did. But then he got a good look at her hazel eyes, and immediately he could tell something was wrong. It wasn’t that she was sleepy, though she looked a bit haggard in with her peacoat tied around her haphazardly and her hair wild, dotted with the snowflakes falling steadily outside. Instead, she looked almost unreachable. His Eleanor who was always so present and vivid and alive, even in the midst of drudgery. And she wasn’t daydreaming, either. She wasn’t off in her own thoughts, thinking of Emily Dickinson or James Joyce or Claude Monet. No; she was simply not there. Not really.

“Hey, honey. You’re early,” he began as she approached him, where he stood in between Matthew and Chris. The two of them didn’t even notice she’d come in until Jess addressed her, still too caught up in their argument over where to place the new books of free-form poetry.

Swallowing harshly, Ella gave a weak smile and raked her fingers through her hair. She walked up to them, wringing her hands together. Jess didn’t need to see her hands to know she had already bitten her nails down to the quick. At the interruption, Chris gave a frustrated huff and turned to Ella.

“Ella, please tell Matthew it makes zero sense to put the free-form poetry anywhere near the sonnets! They should be on opposite ends of the store, as far as I’m concerned,” he exclaimed in exasperation.

Matthew rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as his jaw clenched. “I’m glad you’re here, Ella. Please tell Chris that we don’t only sell poetry, and free-form or not, it has no business anywhere near science fiction!”

Furrowing her brows, distracted, Ella shook her head. “Um...I don’t know...but I….”

“What?” Jess asked as she gestured slightly with her hands. Her face was pale, and she almost seemed confused, at a loss for words. It didn’t happen to her often, to say the least.

Blowing out a breath, she tried again, jerking her thumb back over her shoulder. “Back at the apartment...I just got a call from my brother. My dad’s dead.”

Jess’s heart dropped into his stomach. “What?”

“Yeah,” Ella said, nodding. As she continued, she took a hair elastic from her wrist and began pulling her locks into a ponytail. “Adam said he was in a car accident this morning. Driving home from some bar in Maryland. If I had to guess, he was still a little drunk from last night. No one else got hurt, which is good. He hit a patch of black ice, and he was going too fast, and I guess he just went right off the road. Into a tree. And he wasn’t wearing his seatbelt.”

Her speech became more urgent with every word, as they heard it sink in for her in real time. But she was never frantic, only determined and stern. The spacey fog was fading from her demeanor, though it remained in her eyes. Only in her eyes. She didn’t give them time to respond, just kept thinking out loud.

“Noah’s already on a plane from Oregon, but I don’t think he’s gonna be any help. And Adam said Fiona’s freaking out, so I’m almost definitely going to have to make the arrangements. I know you guys have work and stuff, but we need to pack up and get there before the rest of the family does, or everything will probably just explode on principle. Fuck! This is just like him. To die a week before Christmas!”

“Whoa, hey, Eleanor, just slow down for a second, okay?” Jess began, taking a hesitant step towards her and grabbing her hand. He squeezed once, hard, hoping to calm her down at least a little.

“Jesus, Ella-” Chris began.

“I’m so sorry,” Matthew said.

Ella shook her head, her face stoic. “Don’t, okay? Don’t be sorry. No one needs to be sorry. He was a fucking drunk, and it finally caught up with him. I just need to get back to Stars Hollow to take care of this, and then maybe Christmas won’t be completely ruined. Sound good?”

“Elle, just hold on. You should sit down and-” Jess said, but she cut him off.

“No, Jess. Seriously, I’m fine. Let’s just go and get it over with, and then it’ll be done,” she said, her hand never leaving his though she didn’t squeeze back. Her tone was tight, clipped, but she didn’t sound angry. He recognized it from the night on the bridge when she’d told him about the days following her mother’s death. The way she held it all together, and blocked it all out. Numb and headstrong.

“Do you want us to come with?” Matthew asked, watching with uncertainty as Ella began to tug Jess towards the door, grabbing his bag for him and handing him his coat.

“What? Of course not,” Ella said, insistent, as though it were obvious. “All I need to do is steal Jess for a few days. You need to do whatever it is you’re gonna do with Mabel. And Chris needs to do whatever it is he’s gonna do with Leo, and you need to tell me about it when we get back. I can pretty much guarantee your stories will be more fun than mine.”

“Are you sure?” Chris chimed in, brow heavy with worry. Her iciness surprised him. He had never heard someone react to a parent’s death quite so flippantly before.

“Yes. Jesus, Chris, keep up,” she replied, in a way which would have spurred a playful argument on a normal day. Again, her nonchalance unnerved all three of them.

Jess interlocked their fingers again instantly once he had his bag and his coat, almost heading out the door already. She was moving too fast for him to process much of anything, only reacting. He hadn’t seen her in such a frenzy in a very long time. “Eleanor, wait. Stop.”

“I can’t stop, Jess. I told you, we’ve gotta get there before my uncle has time to hit on Fiona and before Noah has time to piss off Adam. It’s fine. I promise. I’m fine.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but she pulled him out the front door instead. As they went, she shouted over her shoulder to Matthew and Chris: “Happy holidays! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

And then, she and Jess were gone. Chris and Matthew exchanged concerned, flabbergasted glances.

.   .   .

Flashback was the word that came to the forefront of her mind, as she stared up at the ceiling in the Gilmore living room. Luke and Lorelai were trying, and she appreciated it. They could both tell she didn’t want to talk about it, only wanted a bit of normalcy after the long day. And they’d obliged. After all, they’d had practice. Lorelai knew exactly what to do. She’d had Luke bring dinner home from the diner: turkey sandwiches and sodas. She’d suggested they watch a movie after dinner, something campy horror. Finally, they had settled on The Lost Boys. Ella knew how much Jess hated the movie, especially Kiefer Sutherland’s mullet, but he never complained once. A large part of her wished he would. She wanted it to be the way it was supposed to be. She wanted to have Christmas in Stars Hollow with the people who felt more like her family than her father did. Adam celebrating with one of his school friends in Boston, Fiona with her sister, Noah with his finacée in Oregon. But, of course, things never went as planned. Not in Ella’s experience at least.

At some point during the movie, she’d fallen asleep on the couch. No matter how much she wanted to stay awake until the end, she couldn’t keep her eyes open. Dealing with Fiona’s blubbering and Adam’s silence and Noah’s anger had pretty well exhausted her. Not to mention the business setting up the funeral at the church. She’d spent nearly two hours with the pastor, but the service was only halfway planned. She wished Aunt Julie could arrive sooner, but the girls were in school until Tuesday. Erin had some big recital she was pitching a fit about missing. Ella couldn’t blame her. She wouldn’t want to be there if she didn’t have to be. No, they would arrive on Wednesday morning. Two hours before the funeral, set for noon. At some point before then, Ella would have to sort out the flower arrangements and the music and the programs. At least Luke was providing the food. She assumed he would before he even offered. And she would have to write the eulogy. But she wasn’t even thinking about it yet. Every time the idea of writing it entered her mind, she would start humming a Stevie Nicks song and pointedly ignore it.

It was all too familiar. The planning, the writing, the consoling. Since they’d arrived in Stars Hollow that afternoon, it had been a non stop barrage of tasks and tears. None of it was surprising. And it almost made her want to laugh. The minute she heard that her mother was dead, she had burst out laughing, a nervous reaction she couldn’t control. Granted, the laughter came from deep inside her, and probably resembled a pained shriek more than an actual giggle. But it was laughter nonetheless, and her father had recognized it as such. He’d yelled at her until his voice became hoarse. She knew it wouldn’t happen again. He was the dead one now, after all. But still, she didn’t let the anxious laughter escape. She didn’t let anything escape. After the punishment she’d received for letting go last time, she knew not to do it again. No one was there to smack her, to scream, but she just couldn’t bring herself to forget how it had felt. Like she couldn’t even grieve right. And the best way to grieve became to not grieve at all.

She laid with one hand on her stomach and the other behind her head, analyzing the popcorn ceiling. She’d awoken with the room dim and the TV shut off. A quilt which she hadn’t fallen asleep under was draped over her, and there were hushed whispers in the direction of the kitchen. She hadn’t planned to wake up until morning, but she hadn’t planned to fall asleep there either. They were supposed to be sleeping in the apartment above the diner for the vacation, while Rory and April took the spare beds in the Gilmore house. But neither girl had yet to arrive, and Lorelai insisted Ella and Jess stay over after dinner. It was no use driving over in the snow, even if Luke’s was only about a minute away. Ella couldn’t believe how similar it all was to before. Sleeping alone on the Gilmore couch as others worried over her a few feet away.

She listened, in spite of herself. It was too tempting not to eavesdrop when she’d already heard her name so many times. Luke was concerned about her forgetting to eat. Lorelai was concerned about her shutting everyone out and being overwhelmed by the funeral preparations. And both of them were concerned about her coming to blows with Fiona at some point in the next few days.

Sighing, Ella ran her tongue over her teeth and remembered she hadn’t brushed them. She debated not doing so, but decided to just bite the bullet. With everything else on her mind, she thought it best to eliminate all the outward elements which might impede her from getting back to sleep. She rolled over on her side, preparing to sit up, when she saw Jess. She thought he’d be in the kitchen, talking with Luke and Lorelai. Instead, he sat on the floor with his back against the sofa. His head was near hers, leaned back. His eyes were closed, but he wasn’t snoring. She doubted he was fully asleep, but nonetheless attempted to get past him and rummage through the bag on the armchair to find her toothbrush. Her stealth proved lacking, however, when he began to stir as soon as she reached the bag.

“Hey,” he said quietly, rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his hands and doing his best to seem lively. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she replied, fishing her toothbrush out from the sea of clothes she’d thrown into the duffel before they sped away from the apartment in Philadelphia. “I just forgot to brush my teeth.”

“Oh,” he said, nodding and hoisting himself up. His neck was already sore from the position he’d dozed off in, unwilling to follow Luke and Lorelai into the kitchen with Ella asleep on the couch. “Me too. I’ll come with.”

She nodded back, grabbing his toothbrush as well. The whispers didn’t cease until they made their way into the kitchen, Luke and Lorelai looking up at their entrance. Ella debated using the upstairs bathroom, not disturbing the two of them. But she didn’t have the energy to climb the stairs, and it would be the first time she could get a good look at the new half-bathroom they added next to Rory’s room. The smell of the diner food lingered, and it made Ella’s chest feel just a touch less tight. Lorelai broke out into a small smile at the sight of the two of them.

“You need anything, sweetie?” she asked, speaking only to Ella.

Though she felt a bit uncomfortable under everyone’s gaze, Ella smiled back. There was a warmth in her stomach at Lorelai’s voice. She focused on that feeling, and only that feeling. “No, we’re fine. Just brushing our teeth. The dentist would be pissed at me if I broke the pattern after over twenty years.”

“That’s true. Always best to avoid the Sweeney Todd dentistry possibility,” Lorelai agreed, nodding. Then, she yawned theatrically and looked at Luke, who only rolled his eyes at the dramatics. “I think we’re gonna head upstairs. It’s past our bedtime.”

“Still got those four o’clock deliveries, huh?” Jess asked sullenly, eyeing Luke. Many a morning when he was a teenager, he’d been awoken at half past three by the sound of Luke’s alarm.

Luke sighed. “For the business that housed and fed you for two years? Yeah, I do.”

Ella snorted a laugh, and nudged Jess playfully in the ribs. “Like you’re not always up before the sun, even on Saturday.”

“Where do you think that started?” Jess shot back, pointing an accusatory finger at Luke. “He screwed with my internal clock for life!”

“I think that’s enough fuel for future therapy sessions for tonight,” Lorelai announced, rising from the table, Luke following.

“Agreed,” Luke grumbled.

As they exchanged goodnights, Lorelai gave Ella a kiss on the cheek. Immediately after, she scrunched up her nose and smudged the lipstick from Ella’s freckled skin with her thumb. To Ella’s shock, Lorelai also gave Jess a short hug before making for the stairs. Luke hugged Jess,  too. The two of them still had trouble showing physical affection for each other, as they probably always would. Ella had to stifle a laugh at the awkwardness between them.

When Luke hugged Ella, though, she felt tears prick at her eyes for the first time all day. She recognized his familiar smell, the soft feeling of his flannel, his strong arms around her. Somewhere in her mind, it occurred to her that the way it felt for Luke to hug her was what she had always wanted it to feel like when her own father hugged her. And she knew for sure she would never get it from him. She could finally be certain there was nothing left to do to repair her relationship with him. There was no time left for Jake to make her feel as safe as Luke made her feel. As he never had, even in her childhood. But by the time she and Luke broke apart, she had gathered herself enough. She cleared her throat and blinked away the glassy sheen in her eyes.

Luke ruffled her hair as he stepped back from her. If he saw that she was upset, he didn’t acknowledge it. “Don’t worry, kid. We’ll get everything figured out tomorrow.”

“I know, boss,” she replied.

.   .   .

The cigarette smoke made her a bit nauseous, but it was also comforting in a way she was slightly ashamed of. The winter air was crisp and biting, and her cheeks were frosted roses. Embers glowed orange in the darkness as she took a long drag, burning her lungs. She was already regretting it, but she simply felt too tired to think out the actual consequences of what she was doing. She had tried. She really had. But falling asleep, with Jess snoring softly beneath her as they lay on the couch, was absolutely impossible. Fatigue was weighing down her bones, and there was a perpetual ache throbbing behind her eyes. But each time she got close to sleep, the thought of her father would flash across her mind, and she would be wide awake once more.

Once she gave up, she had managed to sneak outside unnoticed. The wind whispered past her, hollow and haunting. But maybe everything was feeling spookier because death was at the forefront of her mind. Then again, when wasn’t it? Though the shock had certainly hit her with full force when she heard the news, she couldn’t bring herself to be surprised. The other shoe had dropped. She knew it would, just when she let her guard down. The moment she forgot to worry, the universe had knocked her down again. She flicked her cigarette and watched the excess ash melt a small spot in the snow below the steps.

At the sound of the front door creaking open, she startled only a little. For a wild moment, she wanted to put her cigarette out and hide it behind her back, pretending to be innocent. Especially if it was Luke. But she had to remember she was a grown up. And the feeling disappeared entirely when she saw only a disheveled Jess wrapping himself up in his jacket as he came out onto the porch and sat down next to her.

“You’re gonna catch a cold out here,” he remarked, holding her peacoat out to her.

She took it with a trembling hand.

“Thank you,” she said solemnly, breathing out a long stream of smoke as she spoke. The coat was old and cheap, and did little to help a Connecticut winter, but she shrugged it on anyway.

He nodded, chewing on his bottom lip. “Don’t mention it.”

They sat in silence, an owl hooting somewhere in the trees beyond the house. Ella didn’t put the cigarette out until it got so small it began to burn her fingers. After she’d discarded it, her breath still puffed out, along with Jess’s, in frigid white clouds. Flurries of snow fell in scattered sprays, but the night was mostly quiet and overcast. Jess crossed his arms over his chest, waiting.

She spoke, as he knew she eventually would, after a few more minutes. Gesturing down to the crushed cigarette, her tired eyes met his. “Do you want one?”

“No, thanks,” he said, shaking his head. “Where’d you get those in the middle of the night in Stars Hollow, anyway?”

A thin smirk ghosted over her lips. “Snatched ‘em off Bootsy’s newsstand.”

“Really?” he asked, laughing slightly, with eyebrows raised.

She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Don’t act so surprised, Mariano. I was sneaking out of my bedroom window long before you got here.”

“Touché.” His eyes lingered on her, hair glistening golden in the soft light and eyes still far off somewhere miles away. He hesitated before he continued. “Did you walk all the way to Bootsy’s without a coat?”

She shrugged, glancing down at the Doc Martens on her feet. “I’m fine. I had my good shoes on. Besides, it’s only like a minute away.”

“Alright.”

“Seriously, Jess. I’m fine,” she snapped after a moment.

“Okay. I get it,” he said instantly. “You’re fine. You’re not cold.”

Ella ran her hands through her hair. Her body shook as she yawned.

“You wanna go back to bed?” he asked.

“No,” she said with a heavy sigh.

“Are you sure?”

“Jesus, Jess! Stop trying to take care of me! Stop asking me questions! Just let me fucking sit here!” Ella exclaimed, huffing in frustration.

Jess recoiled slightly, and he nodded at her again. He ran a hand over his mouth and swallowed down the million other questions which were rising in his throat. The ones she’d refused to ask on the drive up, and the ones she apparently still wanted to avoid. “Sorry.”

She rolled her eyes, mostly at herself. “No, I’m...I’m sorry. I’m just tired. I couldn’t fall asleep.”

“We don’t have to sleep if you don’t want to. We could watch one of Lorelai’s cassettes in there,” Jess suggested, fighting hard to keep his tone light, bracing for whatever reaction she was going to have.

“I love that she still has cassettes,” Ella said wistfully, though not smiling. Her voice was low and raspy as she stared out ahead of her into the darkness and the lightly falling snow.

He nodded a little. “I know you do.”

Ella’s hands were itching to hold another cigarette, but she fought the urge. The pack which sat on the porch steps next to her would almost certainly be crumpled up and thrown in the trash the moment she reentered the house. Along with the lighter. But it was nice to have them there. If she wanted. They sat wordlessly, listening to the rustle of the wind in the evergreen trees. Jess didn’t make a sound. He was just far away enough not to touch her, almost in silent askance of whether she wanted space. She did. And she didn’t want to talk. She didn’t want to talk almost as much as she didn’t want to write the eulogy. She wanted to be able to push down the sorrow and the rage until they just dissolved and she was as happy as she had been just a day earlier. Yesterday, she may have even been hopeful. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt hopeful about her family. But, now, she had to stop herself from reaching for a cigarette yet again. And she felt herself wanting a drink. A drink stronger than champagne at a book launch. And then the words started flowing before she could overthink them, before she could lock them away in her heart forever.

She swallowed thickly, looking down into her lap at her nail-bitten hands. “This is just like it was the last time.”

“Oh yeah?” he whispered, shifting a bit closer to her.

“Yeah,” she echoed, so quiet he almost couldn’t hear. She sniffed. “I mean, last time my dad was the devastated one instead of Fiona. But Adam still got pissed at Noah, and Noah only got more pissed because Adam was mad at him.”

Noah had only made it to town an hour before Ella left to go back to the Gilmore residence for the night, but he and Adam were at each other’s throats pretty much as soon as they saw each other. Upset that his Christmas vacation was being disrupted, Noah had insisted on staying at a motel instead of at the little blue house in which they had grown up. Adam wasn’t happy about it, accusing Noah of acting as though he was too good for them. In turn, Noah asked Adam why he wasn’t mad at Ella for staying with Lorelai. Adam had shot back immediately, saying Noah had abandoned the entire family the minute he could, while Ella stayed behind. At that point, Ella knew there was no way to diffuse the situation. She’d only offered to walk back with Noah to the motel, leaving Adam to sleep in his old room. Luckily, Fiona’s sister was already in town for the holiday. So, it didn’t wholly fall to any of the three of them to console her.

Jess and Luke had both offered to go over to the house with her after helping with the arrangements, but she’d insisted on meeting her brothers there alone. The surreality of the moment didn’t dawn on her until she saw Adam’s teary eyes and Noah’s flushed face. It was like she had stepped into the past. She’d come back to the Gilmore house to find Jess sitting in the living room, halfway through the Russian novel he’d brought with. In the face of his questions, she’d only given him the liner notes and then fallen mostly silent for the rest of the evening.

“And Lorelai and Luke won’t let me brush my teeth without asking me if I need anything,” Ella continued, with a scoff in her words. “And, I love them. I do. And I’m so fucking grateful that it hurts. But, I’m fine. I’m totally fucking fine.”

“So I’ve heard,” he quipped.

“You’re hilarious.”

“I’ve heard that, too,” he said.

She laughed breathily, lifting her head to look up at the sky. “Shut up.”

“Will do.”

Then, after a moment: “I just wish...I wish it wasn’t like this. I mean, he was a shitty dad. But he was still my dad.”

He watched as she chose her words, carefully. Her voice had more emotion than he’d heard all day. Bringing his arm around her shoulders, he hoped to lessen the trembling of her hands just a little. She leaned into him, letting herself feel his warmth but fighting the wateriness in her voice. Of all the things she didn’t want to do, crying was at the top of the list.

“And now...I don’t have parents. I don’t even have a dad who hates me and never calls,” she continued.

“He didn’t hate you,” Jess interjected.

She shook her head. “Yeah, he did, Jess. He fucking hated me. Because I looked like my mom and I didn’t like Fiona and I wouldn’t quit talking back at the dinner table. But it doesn’t bother me. I hated him most of the time, too.”

He hummed in response, listening.

Her face crumpled for only a moment. But, again, she regained her composure. A couple silent tears threatened to slip over. “But at least I had someone to hate, y’know? Now, it’s just...no one.”

She took in a shaky breath, and Jess began to rub circles over her back. He recognized that her shivering was no longer due to the cold but from the sobs she wouldn’t let loose. Ella’s stomach did a flip, as she clenched her hands into fists. But she just couldn’t hold it in any longer. She let a single wimper pass her lips. And then, the levee broke. She put her head in her hands and finally began to weep, cries from deep within her escaping at last.

“I just...I don’t have p-parents anymore,” she spoke through sobs, trying to get her voice under control but failing miserably. “I’m not anyone’s daughter anymore. I don’t belong to anyone anymore.”

Jess shut his eyes for a moment, feeling a crack in his heart as he heard her anguish. But a part of him was relieved she was finally letting it out. He knew not all of her tears were for her father, but for her mother as well. He’d never seen her cry so hard before, so hard she couldn’t catch her breath and she was beginning to feel sick to her stomach. She stopped being able to talk after a while, only crying, folding in on herself.

“I...I don’t...belong to anyone anymore,” she repeated.

Gnawing on his bottom lip again, Jess smoothed an affectionate hand over her hair. He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. Though he couldn’t see her face, Ella felt her cheeks heat up at his seeing her sob so openly. Jess spoke in a clear, strong tone.

“Listen, Eleanor, I know it feels like you’re alone without them, but that’s not true, okay?” he said.

She let out a tearful scoff.

“Hey, hey, hey, I’m serious,” Jess continued, placing a hand on her damp cheek and turning her face gently so she would look at him.

She wanted to avoid his eyes, embarrassed, but simply couldn’t bring herself to look anywhere else. The sight of him almost made her physically relax.

An earnest crease stood out between his eyebrows when he spoke again. “You belong to me, and I belong to you. That’s how it’s always been, hasn’t it?”

She stared at him for a moment, stunned at his words, as tears kept rolling steadily down her cheeks. But then, her lip began to quiver and she closed her eyes. Jess was worried she was about to get angry again. But instead, she slumped weakly against him. He could feel her tears begin to wet the neckline of his t-shirt as she rested her head on his chest. Breathing out long and slow, Jess wrapped his arms around her. He didn’t know whether his words had helped, but he was doubtful. No amount of talking was going to make her feel any better. He couldn’t crack a joke or start a playful argument or do a magic trick. He could only be there. He simply sat and held her against the wind.

[smolcobie]

Forbidden Love | Haechan

Word Count: 6.203k

Warnings: Heavy making out | Fluff | Suggestive | Surfer!Haechan | Hawaii!au

↪ Summary: When you encounter your youngest childhood friend Haechan after years, you didn’t expect he would become the most forbidden, exciting and dangerous thing you have ever tasted.

MASTERLIST

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

It was New Year’s Eve when you took a long breath on your balcony. Another year over and you were looking forward to what would come next year, but you were tired, especially mentally. That year, in particular, you felt so lonely that the only exciting thing was when you used to go out to surf.

The Lee family had moved next to your house when you were only 6 years old. Always very receptive and spontaneous, you soon ran to find out who filled the newly made house next to you.

You lived in Hawaii, with houses near the beach, fresh fish scent, ice cream every week, and hula dancers always making holiday attractions.

It was a busy summer day when the Lee family arrived. As soon as you saw them, you wanted to be receptive, so you took some cookies (hidden from your mother) to the newcomer family.

“Aloha !!! WELCOME” You said smiling happily and Mama Lee felt touched by your cuteness.

“Look how cute! What’s your name dear?” Mama Lee said approaching you with a newborn baby on her arms bending down to talk to you.

“Y/N, but everyone knows me as Hula girl, because I’m so good with my hips, you wanna see?” You moved cutely making the woman laugh.

“You’re so funny! This one is Donghyuck, the youngest in the house, but our eldest son Johnny nicknamed him Haechan.” She said showing the baby

“His hair is spiky, how cute.” You laughed running your hand through his hair.

“Johnny come here to meet our new little friend.” The woman called the boy who was helping his father with some things.

He came running with his hair in the wind and jumping out of breath.

“Hi, I’m Johnny!” He arrived giving a happy smile that somehow warmed your heart.

“I’m Y/N, I live next door.” you pointed a finger at the humble house that you lived.

“Cool, I think we’ll be neighbors now,” he said excitedly making you feel welcome with the new boy. “Mommy, can I play with Y/N later?”

“Yes, honey, but only after helping Daddy.” The woman smiled as she saw how children made friends so quickly.

“Okay! See you later, Y/N!”

And with that, a long journey of love began in your life.

1 year later

It was a normal sunny day and Johnny had invited his best friend (you) to have ice cream on the beach.

“Can you believe that Haechan was crying yesterday because he wanted to use my Ferrari stroller that I got for Christmas and I didn’t let him? Babies are soo boring, they never understand these things.”

You were a good listener (largely because the food filled your chubby cheeks) and were always attentive to everything Johnny said.

“Maybe because babies are stupid,” you said, and Johnny laughed. “Really, my mom told me that I kept my mouth open, drooled, and liked to eat dirt when I was a baby. I couldn’t believe it when she told me that.” You licked the lips contented with the refreshing taste of popsicle.

“At least you don’t have a brother to wake you up in the middle of the night. What does it feel like to be an only child?” He asked thoughtfully.

“Lonely sometimes. I always wanted a little brother or sister to keep me company even if he or she cried” You said honestly.

“Ah, but you have me. You can use me as a big brother.” he said cheerfully at the thought, but you got annoyed.

You didn’t want him to be your brother. It felt strange to think of seeing the boy as a brother but you weren’t sure why.

“No! You’re my friend and period.” You sulked and crossed your arms.

Johnny just laughed and hugged you because he thought it was funny when you got angry

“Okay, I’ll be your friend forever, okay?”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

And you made a friendship pact that would last longer than you expected.

3 years later

Haechan was 4 years old and you got used to the boy since you took care of him regularly in exchange for some change as a nanny. It was Saturday night and you would usually take care of Haechan, but you had promised some friends from school and Johnny to go out for a beach bonfire.

At 10 a part of you already felt that you saw Johnny more than just a neighbor, and much more than just a best friend, but that night you were sure.

With a simple game of truth or dare, you had been challenged to peck your friend. For a moment you froze and didn’t know what to do, but the boy simply approached and sealed his lips as if it were nothing.

“These challenges are too weak, leave it to me and spare Y/N.”

Johnny said returning to the place while you remained shocked and with your pink cheeks.

And after having your first kiss with your best friend, you knew you liked him.

He was what you always have seen in the movies, the enchanted prince you dreamed.

At least until you grow up.

6 years later

Puberty soon arrived and Johnny became the popular and handsome island boy who had the attention of all the girls. You were a dancer from Hula’s local group and were very proud of what you’d achieved.

With his popularity, your friendship with Johnny had drifted off at school and talked only briefly during the week when you both teamed up with Haechan to surf on the beach.

Haechan had become the kind of boy who always admired you as a person and was inspired to be better. And whenever he could, he would help you with whatever you needed, even if you still didn’t understand what was going on.

“Do you really think I’m good at surfing?” He asked with his brown eyes shining.

“I’m sure. You’re 10 years old and you’re so much better than your brother who’s 17 and me with 16. You can be a pro.” You talked while you were at sea relaxing on the boards.

It’d become a habit for you both to always be at sea on Saturdays while the rest of the Lee family had left.

“Only you think that. Johnny says I should think of a real profession, like a doctor, lawyer, something like that.” He sighed, with his head down.

“Haechan, you should know your brother only says that because he can’t handle the high waves like you.” You said laughing and he perked up a little “Yeah, I know, but he’s so smart, I feel stupid around him. How can I understand math if I only think of music and the sea all day?” Haechan stared at the orange sky at sunset.

“You’re not stupid, you just have different talents. When you understand that Haechan, you’ll be able to reach out to your dreams and use the potential you really have.”

“If I try hard I can be as good as you are with dancing?”

“You can be anything you want Haechan, it’s just up to you,” You said kicking his surfboard “Now cheer up, please Sun.”

“Okay.”

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

That night, there was a special summer dance performance. The Lee family were the special guests you called to sit forward with your parents.

You were excited and eager to dance, especially because Johnny would be watching. One part of you wanted to do your best so he could see how determined you were, and the other to show that you were more than your brother’s babysitter in your spare time and just the childhood best friend.

Everyone sat down in the front row and Haechan seemed the most excited of all. He was always inspired by you, and you could tell he was your number 1 fan. The presentation would be simple and chic but lively with a few steps you had created with a solo near the end of the dance. You were nervous but after entering the stage all thoughts dissipated and you could only focus on one thing: your moment of shining.

As the minutes passed the audience got up and clapped to their feet before the presentation even ended. It was your moment and everyone was there to congratulate you, except Johnny who seemed to be gone.

You searched for the boy all over the place but didn’t find him. You thought he might be in the bathroom so you walked to the backstage to get your bag with your clothes to leave and came across a not so pleasant scene:

Johnny kissing a teammate who danced with you.

It was devastating.

For a girl to see her first love kiss another girl in front of her is a sensation no one wants to feel.

You picked up your bag and ran away holding back tears. Haechan from far saw you run and soon followed you feeling worried.

It was night time and you only wore a mini skirt made of green leaves and a top that showed the shoulders and a piece of your belly. Even a 10-year-old boy knew that it was not appropriate for a girl to be alone knowing that could be dangerous people around.

You stopped in a nearby park and sat on the abandoned swing and cried there.

Haechan arrived soon panting from the run and approached you.

He noticed that you were crying and said nothing, just hugged and comforted you for a few minutes until you calmed down and took a deep breath. Haechan waited by your side until you recovered completely and together returned home.

That day you realized the sad truth you didn’t want to see:

To Johnny, you were just a friend, and even though Haechan was a 10-year-old boy, he showed more concern than Johnny all these years. You came home that day disappointed that you had been shaken by a boy, but was determined to change.

3 years later

You and Johnny had graduated from school, which is when you decided to stay in Hawaii and become a local dance instructor, your passion, while Johnny went to law school in LA. That’s when you decided to get over him and live your life.

After Johnny went to college, you spent a lot of time with Haechan surfing, dancing or doing anything.

Since Haechan always kept you company, you never felt lonely.

“I heard you rejected Shivani at school today.” You said laughing while resting your feet in the sea

“How do you hear about these things? Damn such a gossip town.” He rolled his eyes.

“Why did you reject her? She was cute.”

“Because I don’t like her and I didn’t want to deceive her.” He said looking away.

Something he always did when he was hiding or lying about something.

“You’re hiding something from me. Tell me everything, I know that’s not all.” You said swimming closer.

“I’m not hiding anything.” He said twisting his nose.

“I get it… it’s because you have someone you like, right?” you said pushing the shoulder of the boy who turned red.

“It’s nothing like that…” It was so obvious that you just laughed internally.

“No need to be embarrassed, we’ve all had a first love. Even me.” You sighed.

“Mine is unrequited, but I have faith that one day she’ll notice me.”He said turning redder looking at the board beneath him.

“Maybe someday Haechannie?”

You smiled and the boy looked at you tenderly.

Little did you know he was talking about you.

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

1 week later Haechan had received a decisive email he’d been waiting for months.

Over the years he became the best of the island in hard surfing and decided to follow your advice and live like a pro surfer but the world was too cruel and dangerous for a simple 13-year-old boy and he knew it wouldn’t be easy.

He researched thoroughly and found that there were schools in L.A that offered scholarships for sporting competition winners around the world. When Haechan found out, he did what he didn’t expect himself to do: he entered the world surfing competition that would happen at the beach near his home.

The preliminaries would be at his home and the final would be in L.A. He was dedicated to win and go to specialize in L.A where his brother lived. Despite his fear, he was surprised to find that he had won the competition.

He became extremely known in the region and tried at a specialist school that trained young teenage sportsmen.

After months he received the email:

“We are honored to inform you that your application has been approved for L.A Sports School”

He was shocked, proud, anxious, happy, so many feelings at once, but sad.

He knew that if he accepted the application he’d be away from you. It was a difficult decision so he promised something there. He swore he’d go to L.A, be the best student and come back to show that he was no longer a boy but a real man to win you over;

So after a lot of thinking, he accepted his arduous destiny.

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

In the farewell at the airport, you cried, you’d feel lonely after all, Haechan had become a life company. You couldn’t deny that you’d inevitably suffer, but you wanted the best for the boy.

“Hope you become the best surfer out there and STUDY HARD OKAY?!?” You hugged him

“Don’t worry, I’ll make you very proud, old lady.” He said laughing and you patted his shoulder.

“I’m not old, I’m wise.” You laughed

“Y/N, I’ll make you a promise.” “What is it Haechan?”

“When I get back we’ll get married.” he said embarrassed and you laughed.

“Marriage??? You’re too young to think about it.”

“But it’s true. I’m coming back and we’re getting married.” he said cheerfully and you found him cute.

“Alright then, I’ll wait for you.” you smiled stroking his hair and he grinned.

“I’ll remember that!!” He said hugging you one last time and ran to the boarding “I’ll miss you, old lady!!!”

“I’m going to miss you too Sun!” You waved and the boy disappeared.

5 years later, present.

You woke up feeling your head hurt from the new year. You wanted to go on sleeping, but you knew you couldn’t, that day one would be special because Haechaan would be returning to Hawaii with his brother to enjoy the rest of their vacations.

When you arrived at the airport, you stayed waiting for your friends with great expectations. After all, you haven’t seen them for years. From far away you spotted Johnny and recognized him at first. He was older, a little more mature, but nothing had changed, the moment he noticed your presence he rushed to give you a warm hug.

“Y/N it’s been ages! I missed you so much.” He hugged you tightly.

“I missed you too.” The moment was soon interrupted by a distinct thick male voice.

“I missed you too, Y/N.” When you let go of Johnny you had to look up to see where the voice came from.

It was Haechan, almost six feet tall, his voice thick and his body changed. You were startled and your heart sped up suddenly.

“Haechan???” You put your hand over your shocked mouth.

“I missed you so much” He hugged you tightly, lifting your body off the floor and squeezing it. “You have no idea how much.” He said it in your ear making you feel nervous.

You didn’t know why you were nervous, but you felt something burn inside you every time he smiled.

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

Arriving home, you talked to Johnny while Haechan went to his bedroom to unpack his things.

“Wow, I missed Hawaii. The house hasn’t changed at all.” Johnny said sitting on the kitchen counter while you grabbed an ice cream.

“Your parents never changed the house so you could feel at home when you come back.” You smiled. “Maybe Haechan will feel like this, I’ll come back to L.A in a few days.” Johnny said and you were confused

“What do you mean? I thought you guys stay here during the holidays.”

“Unfortunately my office contacted me, a special case arrived and I’ll have to go back, but Haechan is here to stay.” Johnny said with a sigh.

“Haechan’ll be staying for good?” You said in a surprised tone

“He wants to do his senior year in Hawaii, and he told me he needed to fulfill a promise he made to you 4 years ago.” Johnny said leaving the counter.

“Promise?” “Yes, he said you know what it is.”

After a lot of thinking, you remembered the old cute promise

“He said he would marry me, but I don’t think he still thinks like he used to.” You laughed eating the ice cream in peace.

Johnny grinned thinking about the possibility

“Why not? I’d love to have you as my sister-in-law.” He said and you hit the boy.

“Very funny. I’ll call Haechan so we can go surfing, it’s been a while since we’ve surfed.”

“All right.”

You walked out of the kitchen and went straight up to Haechan’s room. You knocked on the door, but he didn’t answer so you decided to enter the room facing a scene that left you speechless.

Haechan shirtless in baggy sweatpants, drying his hair with a towel with one hand while brushing his teeth with the other.

“Oh, Y/N? I didn’t hear you knocking, I was taking a shower, the trip made me tired.” He rinsed his mouth in the bathroom and sat on the bed watching you who was silent.

“What? Why are you standing there?” He looked confused while you tried to compose yourself.

‘Since when did Haechan get so… hot????’  You thought, wanting to stick your head in the ground like an ostrich for thinking like that about the boy you used to babysit 'control yourself idiot, he’s just the usual Haechan.’

“Nothing, I was just going to call you to surf, but since you bathed you don’t have to.”

“Don’t worry I will, after all, I missed talking to you.” He said getting up and taking his swimsuit and looked at you who was still standing in place.

“Are you going out or do you want me to change in front of you?” He said looking at you with a smirk and you laughed nervously and left closing the door and running down the stairs.

'What’s happening to me?’ You thought trying to calm your breathing.

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

“I missed talking to you…” He said lying on the board receiving the sunlight, while you tried to look at anything but his tan belly.

“Me too, you didn’t even tell me how was in L.A.” You said sighing thinking about the years that passed

“It was cool, I made a lot of friends, I surfed a lot, I won some little competitions….” He said laughing remembering the time there.

“Little competitions you say the regional and world championships right? I saw that you have more than 1 million followers on Instagram, do not fool me.” You said feeling proud “I’m proud of you, I always knew you would go far.”

The boy opened his eyes and gave a laugh that made you nervous. “To be honest, only you believed that. My parents were afraid, but they knew that if I studied at L.A I would have a great chance of winning college scholarships.”

“And you won?” You looked at him expectantly.

“Sure.” He sighed. “But that’s not what I want to do with my life.” He said confessing his inner dream “I wanted to be a surf teacher here, teach kids so you know? Participating in competitions every once in a while is what I want.”

“Have you told your parents yet?” You said turning to face the boy.

“No, not yet, but I told Johnny.”

“And what did he say?”

“That I should be happy.” He smiled and sighed contentedly. “I don’t want to talk about it, it’s letting me down.”

“Just one thing, you could do that in L.A, why come here?”

“Because of you.” He said speaking as if it were obvious making you feel warmed up.

“What do you mean because of me? I was just your nanny, no big deal.” You said trying to get off the subject and he got annoyed.

“You weren’t just a nanny. You were so much more, you made me believe I could be who I am today, being a nanny was just a circumstance in life. I don’t even want to hear about that anymore.” He said angrily getting off the board and falling into the sea “Come on.”

You kept looking at him confused until he pulled your right leg and you fell into the sea laughing.

“I’ll kill you Haechan!”

“Then try it!” He said pulling you closer while you splashed water on his face and he put his hands in his eyes as if water had entered.

He stood still and you got worried

“Does it hurt? Sorry Haechan, I didn’t want it to get in your eye.” You came closer already saddening whilst he stood still.

“Say something Sun!” You were nervous, it was obvious, and when you went to take your hands from Haechan’s eye he took you by the waist and pulled you close, squeezing.

“I love it when you call me Sun…” His deep voice echoing inside your ears, looking into your eyes while he was smiling making you blush.

“I always called you that.” You said looking away breaking the eye contact.

“Why do you keep avoiding me?” He tugged your chin so you could look at him again “Are you nervous?” He stroked your chin, still holding you.

“Haechan, let me go or I’ll break you.” You said trying to look serious, and he let you out laughing.

“You don’t fool anybody Y/N, you know what’s going on here.” He laughed climbing the board again.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You said straightening your hair as you tried to calm down.

“You’ll know soon.” he said and left to surf another wave.

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

You combed your hair whilst you looked in the bathroom mirror, sighing over the sink you thought you were going crazy. How could you be so affected by Haechan like that? He was practically a child who grew up together with you, and now he made you blush.

You wouldn’t admit it, but you knew you were attracted to him. Even after years, you never had a boyfriend, the only boy you’d liked was Johnny, and was too traumatized and afraid to think about dating someone right now. Not to mention that the island didn’t help much, the boys were boring and had nothing interesting to share.

You felt alone, needy, afraid, and scared of the recent thoughts about the boy who had been your cute neighbor all your life and had now reappeared as a man.

“It’s so confusing…” You sighed finishing the brushing of your hair.

You went downstairs thinking you could have ice cream to cool your head, the sunset was so beautiful you decided to stay there and enjoy it. You looked for the pots and found it in a cupboard that was a little tall yourself. You tiptoed up to reach and unsuccessfully, took a deep breath.

“My father really had to put these pots up there for fear of someone stealing us while they traveled? People aren’t going to steal something like that.” You muttered angrily and tried again.

While you were stretching, Haechan had entered the room without you noticing and seeing the girl’s situation, the boy came from behind and all you felt was him pressing your back, a strong hand on your waist and an arm reaching for the pots you wanted.

Your heart stopped.

“W-What are you doing Haechan?” You said shakily.

“Picking up your pots.” He grinned and turned to you “Why are you nervous?”

“I’m not…” You said swallowing hard

“Yeah.” He leaned against the countertop of the lockers, pinning you in place. “It’s obvious on your face, you can’t lie.” He laughed talking near your face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You move your nose when you lie, it’s your habit. You can’t fool me.” He said getting closer making you take a deep breath “And you didn’t answer me.” He looked into your eyes.

You just looked at him and said nothing. What would you say? You were having desires for the childhood friend? He was just a boy, just pranking you… That’s what you thought.

“You’re a child, Haechan. Stop it.” You said with the rest of her sigh and the boy scoffed.

“What did you say?” He said getting close to you.

“T-That you are a child.” You swallowed and the boy showed a hurt look.

“I’m not a child.” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I’ll show you, I’m not the child you used to care for anymore. I grew up and apparently I’m bigger than you.” He looked into your eyes deeply, it was obvious you wouldn’t look away, he was being honest there and mostly resentful.

“If you think I’m a child, then you’re blind and I’ll cure you of this absurd blindness.” He came close to the girl’s ear and spoke for the last time before retiring. “And when you realize that, you can’t take it.” He put his mouth to the skin under your ear and kissed there and left without saying anything else.

You let it out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. Your heart was pounding, the legs trembling and your breathing failed.

“What did I get myself into?” It was all you could think of.

It was night and a bonfire party was happening like it always repeated every New Year. You put on your best outfit, a beautiful white dress that was light and adorned your body perfectly. You put on a small sparkling earring and let your hair down, feeling light, but not calm.

Haechan was angry and you felt guilty for what you said. You wanted to apologize, but you didn’t know how to approach him.

After some thought, you decided to let the time decide and went to the party.

When you arrived you realized that there were many people there, but only one caught your attention. Haechan was standing looking at the sea, looking concerned and alone, and deep down you hated how your eyes found him so easily in the crowd.

You thought of approaching, but soon gave up when you noticed a group of girls surrounding him with some sheets and pens in hand. It was obvious that he was famous, you could never forget.

You were just a girl from Hawaii, and he was Lee Haechan: the star of the surf.

You decided to forget about Haechan and enjoy the bonfire. You sat on some log there and ate some snakes enjoying the loud Bruno Mars music, Finesse.

Everything seemed peaceful, but you seemed uncomfortable. You always felt alone, but at that moment you wanted to have someone, or more precisely, him. Your head ached from the thoughts you didn’t want to hear screaming, you needed some air.

But it was already outdoors, what could you do? Get out of there.

Deciding to go out, you marched in the opposite direction of the beach straight to some lifeguard wooden houses. It was getting darker, the breeze was colder with the twilight and you felt the hair on your arm lift.

You were a little tired so you decided to lean and rest against the wooden base of the nearby house. From afar could see the fire and the sea as well. Just behind you was your house, you seriously considered coming back and just sitting on the porch watching people have fun from afar. You felt sad and definitely wasn’t in the mood for partying.

The reason was simple, Haechan managed to steal your heart.

You sighed and felt the breeze beat harder sending chills through your body and decided to go home, it was getting dark and being there alone wouldn’t help anything. At least your cat Noah would keep you company in your house.

As you were about to return you noticed his presence, Haechan, with his hands in the pockets of his white pants watching you silently.

“Are you a stalker now?” You said nervously, trying not to look affected and kept walking home.

“I came to talk to you.”

“You’re already talking.” You looked at him one last time stopping in your path “What is it, Sun? Why are you so obsessed with me?”

“isn’t it obvious?” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Why do you keep pretending you don’t know?”

“I don’t know what?” You approached with your arms crossed.

“I love you.” He said with all the courage he had.

“What?” You laughed through your nose “You don’t even know what love is, I’m just a passing crush, I’m sure.” You said remembering how you felt about Johnny

“I’m not Johnny, Y/N.” He said softly “I didn’t go out hooking up with girls in L.A while you were here. I always thought of you” He took your hand “It’s not a passing crush when you like the same person for 4 years in a row.”

“I… I don’t know what to say” You looked around feeling your heart racing.

“Yes, you do.” He moved closer and looked into your eyes tenderly. “You know.” He caressed your face.

“No…” You took the boy’s hand away, feeling an ache inside your heart. “That’s wrong.”

“Do you want it or not?” He looked at you with decisive eyes.

“Haechan…” You said softly looking at him as he approached.

“I didn’t ask if it’s wrong or not,” He pressed his nose to yours making you smell the mint of his breath “I asked if you want to.”

You swallowed and looked up at the boy who didn’t wait for your answer and sealed his lips with yours.

He approached you by your waist with his left arm and with his right hand held your face as he slowly kissed you. He was so happy he needed to make sure it was happening, so he’d stop just to see you and then come back to your soft lips smile between the kisses.

It was strangely good, how an 18-year-old knew more about kissing than the men of you kissed your entire life.

He hugged you tightly and you laughed in his chest. “Don’t squeeze me hard, I’ll be out of breath.”

“You’ll be out of breath soon.” He said pulling you to your house.

“Where do you think you’re going?” You looked at him suspiciously.

“You’ll find out.” He smiled looking at you.

He barely waited for you to come in, he already closed the door with his back kissing you again, this time harder.

“You’re very beautiful.” He said laughing on your neck smelling your sweet perfume there

“T-Thank you,” You sighed with your eyes closed “You’re not so bad either.” The boy laughed through his nose at your statement.

“I see…” He just said that and kissed you again.

With his body, he pressed you carefully over the door and held your face with both hands, living the moment he had dreamed so much. He gave little pecks dragging his lips to your cheek and jaw. With his right hand, he moved down from your cheek passing through your neck to the nape of your hair holding it there so that he could kiss you better.

The left hand squeezed your waist while the boy’s leg brushed your thigh, making you breathless.

“W-Where did you learn that?” You tried to catch your breath that the boy wouldn’t allow you to have.

“Certain things you are born knowing.” He laughed and slowly kissed again, going in his own time.

His lips were soft and even if he kissed you harder, it was a beautiful contradiction at how his lips could be soft and calm even though he was stronger.

He released your lips by running his thumb there. It was a little swollen and red from the force it made.

“Open it.” He said with his deep voice echoing in your ear as he touched your mouth, which slowly opened following with your pink cheeks. The boy bit his lip trying not to laugh noticing how you had obeyed him.

Kissing you again, he boldly pulled you close. His right hand sliding down from your hair to your hip, while he felt the softness of your lips with his tongue. At this point, your head was spinning trying to focus on just what you were feeling because you were afraid of losing control right there.

The boy who didn’t want to wait anymore put his tongue in your mouth, which made you lose strength in your legs, causing the boy to sink his fingers in your hip to stay still.

You who got lost in the boy’s embrace, didn’t remember the last time someone had kissed you so intimately and had such patience with you. He was so cautious as if you were made of glass and could be broken with just one touch.

He walked back slowly pulling you with him, taking small steps while biting your lower lip pulling it for another kiss. With each step, he looked more desperate, even slapped his little finger on a piece of furniture, but he acted like it was no big deal, because all he could think about was that the girl he always wanted was right there in his embrace.

“Damn, you’re so perfect.” He said as he kissed your whole face going to your collarbone.

“I” The boy kissed the center of your neck “I’m just” pulled his lips to your shoulder “I.” You tried to speak but was always interrupted by your breathing.

The boy had a few extra celsius in his temperature, it was obvious he was having the moment he always wanted and had no one to disturb him, so he would enjoy it as far as he could.

As you approached the couch he let go of you, who let out a moan of indignation at the lack of contact, while the boy sat on the couch.

You stood looking at him feeling confused, red, and sweating a little because of the warmth of the place. You stared at Haechan who just smiled and made you even more embarrassed, trying to catch your breath.

Haechan tired of waiting for you, realized that you didn’t understand what he wanted so decided to facilitate for both of you.

“Sit down.” He patted his own thigh speaking as if it were obvious.

You lost your breath when you saw the scene

“W-WHAT?” You said in a slightly loud voice, obviously altered by the unexpected request.

“You heard.” He called you again, patting his thigh again. “Come.” He said in his deepest, lowest voice “Sit down.”

You that was now redder than usual decided to do what he had asked, feeling a little embarrassed but knew you wanted it too.

You approached slowly and the boy pulled you to his lap caressing your waist over the dress.

“You’ve been working out, right?” He said laughing looking into your eyes.

“What?” You looked at him incredulously. “How do you know?”

“You can feel it.” He said simple and returned to kiss the girl.

The hands on your waist drew you closer until you could feel every inch of the boy’s turned body. Your hands went to the boy’s silky hair that was so soft it got lost between your fingers, drawing him closer.

The boy who was most assured of himself dropped his hands from your waist to your legs around him. With each kiss it was increasingly desperate, it was too good to be just that.

His hands slowly explored the skin under your dress, slowly so you wouldn’t be scared and feel awkward. You who realized what he was trying to do pulled his hair lightly making him sigh in your mouth.

“I think… after all, you can’t always control everything.” You said smiling slightly at the boy who looked at you with desire in his eyes.

He answered nothing but just kissed you again and dug his nails lightly into your thighs rising to your hip, making you nervous. You swallowed hard, trying to keep yourself under control, but when he squeezed the spot, sucking on your neck and shoulder, you let out an involuntary sly moan from the deep of your throat.

The boy smiled at your skin and continued marking your shoulder trying to pull the zipper down of your dress from behind, and you were busy trying to remove the buttons on the boy’s blouse that didn’t come out easily.

“Oh dear God…” You said between sighs “I’ll be arrested.” You laughed at the thought of the police raiding the place the moment they were like that.

“Then just say I’m 18 years old.” He laughed, lowering the dress zipper as he slid his fingers down your back, making you blush.

“I think I’m going crazy…” You said approaching the boy’s neck where you felt the strong scent making you dizzy “But it’s worth it.” You kissed there melting the boy.

Haechan that desperately tried to help you with his own buttons, was busy holding you in his lap when he got up with the idea of ​​going to your room, but were disturbed by a red light that illuminated the dark place through the window.

“Is that the police?” You looked seriously at the boy and got out of his lap pulling the zipper of your dress while he fixed his hair. “He’s not a child, it’s fine.” You would repeat to yourself trying to focus on what was happening.

“Hey baby, that’s not it.” He said pulling you to see through the crack of the window “It’s your parents.”

“Y/N LOVE!! We’re home sooner.” Your mother screamed “Silence Y/M/N! You don’t even know if she’s there, let’s go inside silent.” Your father said closing the doors.

You both stopped your actions when you heard the familiar voices outside. Trying to compose yourself, you went into the kitchen opening the fridge pretending everything was fine (and in a terrible attempt to cool off from the sudden fire)

“I’ll finish this later.” Haechan said in your ear, giving you one last kiss on your neck, going out from the back of your house.

“I’ll wait.” Was what you said and smiled to yourself, with all the sensations you felt there.

He would definitely remember that forever.

▪︎

▪︎

Masterlist

[justasparkwritings]

Merry & Bright {10}: All I Want Is You

Previous: Shawty, With You 

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Rating: PG13

Warnings: Swearing! Kissing!

Summary: You’re so excited to celebrate Christmas with a traditional round of Secret Santa.... that is, if Namjoon can keep his hands and eyes off of you for long enough to exchange gifts. 

          Softly swooping your hair from both shoulders to rest on your right, you smile at your reflection. Your gold eye make-up sparkles against your skin, radiating the golden earrings you’ve placed in your lowest holes. Namjoon watches silently from the living room, unbeknownst to you, undressing you slowly. You pull at your tights, sheer black and hiding the fact that you haven’t shaved and aren’t planning too. The puffed sleeves of your dress compliment your figure, the deep V of the front of your dress is too low for Namjoon’s liking… but he knows it’s not in his place to say anything. Besides, it’s allowing him to picture what’s underneath.

          He walks up behind you, standing soundly and moving to place your neckless across your chest, clasping it gently.

          “You look stunning,” He says, softly placing a kiss on your cheek.

          “You look like sex,” You respond moving away from him to grab your coat and Secret Santa gift. “Don’t forget your gift.”

          Winking at him, you move to exit the apartment and wait patiently for him to join you. You weren’t kidding, even slightly, when you took in his appearance. Hair gelled back, crushed velvet jacket and black suit pants… You had laughed when he suggested you coordinate, but the look in his eyes told you he was serious, dead serious. He wanted to look like Christmas with you, so you dug out an old dress that you haven’t worn in years, and prayed it fit. Namjoon knew he was sexy, and tonight he came to play fucking ball.

          The entire ride to the party Namjoon couldn’t help glancing at you. The road, to you, back to the road. He couldn’t stop himself from raking his eyes over you, jaw setting as you raised your hips to pull your skirt flush against the seat, or adjust your necklace, hand slowly drawing down between your breasts… He thought he’d cum in his pants from you applying lipstick, gently rubbing your lips together, pouting softly, then smiling slyly at him.

          “Are you going to stop staring at me?” You ask as you step out of the car.

          “No,” Namjoon says, shaking his head lightly, “Not when you look like that.”

          You laugh, eyes rolling at his boldness.

          “Can we enjoy this party?” You ask, hand slipping into his.

          “It’s just Secret Santa,” Namjoon says, “They’re silly gifts.”

          “I spent a lot of time on mine!” You inform him.

          “I’m sure they’ll love it, but it’s not a big thing,” Namjoon says. He’s trying to lower your expectations, and you’re grateful, but he’s raining on your Christmas parade.

          “Stop trying to ruin Christmas,” You drop your hand from his and smile as the elevator opens onto Taehyung’s apartment.

          “Y/N!” He calls, joy written across his face as he moves swiftly to hug you.

          “TaeTae!” You call, mimicking his joy and wrapping your arms around him.

          “I’m so glad you are here! You can put the gift of the table and I’ll take your coat,” Taehyung holds his arm out for yours and Namjoon’s jacket before he retreats to hang them up.

          “Baby, I’m-

          “It’s whatever, Joon,” Your eyes scan the tree, it’s twice the size of yours and fully decked out in ribbon, bulbous ornaments and stunning ribbon work. “It’s gorgeous,” You whisper walking away from Namjoon.

          He’s rolling your eyes at your behavior, annoyed that you’re taking him too seriously. He was projecting from the year Seokjin bought him beef jerky, and it being the first year BTS included the significant others, and if you got anything less than something spectacular, Namjoon was going to tear the giver limb from limb.

          He watches as you greet the other partners, smiling and laughing as Yeontan sniffs your feet. You’re squatting to pick the dog up, and Namjoon can’t help but tilt his head, watching your shape bend and stand again. He clears his throat before moving to greet Yoongi.

          It’s a game of cat and mouse all evening, neither of your orbits crossing until you’re forced to sit side by side for dinner, the name cards already placed. You smile curtly at him as he pulls your chair out, and thank him kindly as he sits next to you. He’s busy speaking with Yoongi’s partner when your hand finds his thigh, squeezing it gently. Namjoon knows you’re extending an olive branch, and he’d be grateful if he hadn’t spent the entire evening dreaming about tearing your tights away and sinking himself deeply into your cunt. Reaching down, he carefully places his hand on your thigh, slowly sliding it under your skirt to grip your inner thigh. You try to inhale slowly, but he’s making it difficult as his hands start moving towards your cloth covered pussy. Glancing at him with squinted eyes, Namjoon smirks, hand retreating as plates start being passed.

          You are relieved as dinner is over and everyone retreats to the living room to begin Secret Santa. The tension in your low abdomen, coupled with the increasing wetness in your panties is so overwhelming, and you hope no one notices you trying to tame your lust. Hopefully, Ho-Seok doesn’t notice as you follow him, engaging in some conversation about dance-pop. Namjoon knows this is his only opportunity.

          “Babe, can you come here for a second?” Namjoon’s voice is soft as he runs a hand through his hair. You glance at him, knowing fully what he wants. “There’s something on my tie, can you help me get it out?”

          “Of course,” You say stepping away from Ho-Seok and following Namjoon down the hall, past the kitchen, to the powder bath.

           “We’re supposed to be celebrating and exchanging Secret Santa gifts!” You whisper as he shuts the door and presses you against it.

           “Fuck Secret Santa,” Namjoon says into your neck.

           “Joon!” You say, pushing him away.

           “I just want you,” he growls, hand slipping under the band of your tights, quickly working their way past your lace panties. His lips are on your neck again, burying himself further into you, teeth nipping at the exposed flesh.

           “Can’t you wait until we get home? I know Secret Santa doesn’t mean anything to you, but it does to me,” You ask breath feather light as you moan softly, his cool fingers separating your folds.

           “No,” his lips are on yours, the taste of champagne mixes with the sugar from the cookie you’d eaten while chatting with Ho-Seok, the tastes swirling in each of your mouths. Against your better judgement, you lay a fierce grip on his collar, tethering him to you like Rudolph to the sleigh. You’re matching him, passion for passion, hips grinding into his hand as he hurriedly tends to your clit.

           “We can just go, right?” You whisper, pleasure overwhelming you. “Joon,” You moan, head resting on his shoulder.

           “I need you,” His fingers aren’t enough, and he pulls away, eyes blown. “We should just go, right?”

           “What about Secret Santa?” You tease.

           “We’ll get your gifts from Taehyung later,” He says, lips gravitating to yours again. “You heard me, I don’t care about gifts under the tree, all I want is you,” His sincerity and earnestness strike a match, and you feel the tears before you realize you’re crying.

           “All I want is you, Joonie,” You whisper. Placing a quick kiss to your forehead, Namjoon’s opening the door out of the bathroom and guiding you quickly through your friends.

           “Leaving so soon?” Seokjin laughs.

           “Yeah, I had Jungkook,” Namjoon calls over his shoulder.

           “I had Areum,” You say, pointing at Seokjin’s girlfriend. She smiles, pleased. “If you hate it, I have the gift receipt!”

           Namjoon chuckles as he hands you your coat and waving swiftly, and as you enter the elevator, he’s got you pinned against the back wall, your laugh crescendos at his bravado.

           “Joonie,” You laugh.

           “I didn’t mean to belittle Secret Santa, I know you’ve been looking forward to it,” He says, eyes locked with yours.

           “Yeah, you shit all over it,” You respond.

           “I just didn’t want you to get your hopes up and then be crushed when someone gifts you a bath bomb in a scent you can’t stand.”

           “Is that what someone got me?” You ask.

           “No, I just, I want you to always have the best Christmas and the best Christmas gifts.”

           “I want that for you too,” You pull on his collar again, lips meeting his again. It’s hurried and hot, lips battling for dominance.  

           “Don’t you know the best thing you could give to me?” Namjoon says, chest heaving, forehead resting on yours, eyes closed tightly.

           “Hmm?” You whisper.

           “You, all I ever want for Christmas is you.”

Next: If Only in My Dreams

[nat-roman0ff]

don’t cry about it, baby

don’t cry about it, baby.

---

life changing news before a family picnic makes you reevaluate what “the next step” really means. wc: 2,905 warnings: 10 cents to the swear jar, crying babies, & psychic moms.

---

 This was probably your worst nightmare. 

 You stare down at the third pregnancy test you’ve taken this morning and it’s positive. Fingertips shake as you throw it into the bin and curl into a ball. Your body quivers as you sob and sob and sob. It’s only a matter of time before Shawn starts banging on the door. He knew something was up for a few weeks; when you realized your period was late, when you woke up every morning throwing up, when you would fall asleep early on the couch after dinner. All signs led up to the worst possible outcome:

 You were pregnant. 

“Hey baby, we have to leave for my parent’s house in a few. Are you okay in there?” Shawn asks from the other side of the bathroom door. 

 “Yeah,” you sniff, “I’m fine. Must be food poisoning or something.” 

 “Again?” Shawn sees through the lie, “that’s the third time in the last two weeks. Are you sure you’re not sick?” 

 “I said I’m fine, Shawn!” You reply with poison in your voice.

 He doesn’t say anything, and you hear his footsteps echo away. Panic runs through your veins. How will you tell your family? His? The media? You’re both barely 21, and he’s gone most of the time. Shawn barely had time for you let alone you and a baby. There’s so much running through your head all at once that you don’t notice Shawn picking the lock for the bathroom door. 

 “Baby! What’s wrong?” He rushes over to you and sits beside you on the floor. 

 You can’t help but cry more as he holds you close to him. His hand rubs your back and he shushes you to try and calm down. It doesn’t work, though, and your sobs choke you as they come out. You’re left gasping for breath while Shawn holds your tear soaked face between his palms. 

 There’s a ringing in your ears so loud you feel like you might pass out. The thumping of your heart is so hard it leaves you breathless. You try your damnedest to break out of it but it keeps pulling you back under, leaving your body a shaking mess.

 “Baby - BABY!” He’s literally shouting, “You need to breathe, calm down. You’re going to give yourself a panic attack. Look at me. Take a deep breath.” 

 You close your eyes and take in a shaky breath, “I’m pregnant.” 

 Shawn immediately lets you go, his hands dropping to the floor, “...what?”

 He looks down at the ground, his eyes round, fingers tangling through his curls and tugging at the root.

 You swallow hard as the tears threaten to come down again, “I’m sorry.” 

 He turns his head to look at you, “what - why are you apologizing?” 

 You wipe your wet cheeks with the back of your hand, your eyes stinging and your throat dry, “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I don’t want this to fuck up your life or your career, or -” 

 “Baby,” he lifts your face by your chin, “that’s not going to happen. It takes two to tango. It’s...it’s a lot, but we’ll figure it out. Have to.” 

 “So you’re not worried?” You ask. 

 He shakes his head, “no, I’m fucking terrified. Me? A parent? I can’t even cook myself breakfast, how am I supposed to take care of another human being?” 

 You let out a breathy laugh and drop your head on his shoulder, “I love you.” 

 He rests his cheek on the top of your head, “I love you too.” 

 ---

 “What about Amadeus?”

 You snort, “as in like, Mozart?” 

 “It’s classy!” Shawn defends. 

 “It’s stupid!” You laugh. 

 He intertwines his fingers in yours, keeping a free hand on the steering wheel, “I don’t see you coming up with anything better.” 

 You ponder for a few a second, “what about Dexter?” 

 Now it’s Shawn’s turn to snort, “that’s stupid.” 

 The two of you are driving to his parent’s house. The road is lined neatly with pretty little houses and rows of trees. It’s a beautiful day, the sun is high in the sky and it’s the perfect temperature of not too hot, and not too cold. You drive with the windows down, your hand snaking through the air out the passenger’s side window. There are six left turns to get to Shawn’s neighborhood in Pickering. You close your eyes and count each one and try to concentrate on the feeling of the wind through your fingers instead of the twisting knot in your stomach.

 “Hey -” Shawn pulls you out of your trance, “everything is going to be fine.” 

 You hum, but aren’t so sure. Yeah, he’s got the money, and you know the baby will be loved and taken care of - but are you two ready? Can anyone really be ready for their first child? You weren’t even engaged, or even brought up the next step. The relationship wasn’t exactly new, you’d been dating for about two years now but besides moving in with him after Christmas, there was no talk of what your next step was. 

 Well, I guess this is the next five steps, you think.

 “I know,” you reply, “I just don’t want your parents to hate me.” 

 You play with his fingers in your lap, not looking at him, “my parents could never hate you.” 

 You side eye him, “you’re a twenty year old international rock star. You don’t have time for a baby.” 

 Shawn slams on the breaks, leaving the cars behind you honking and swerving around you, “excuse me?” He pulls his hand from yours. 

 You sigh, you didn’t mean for it to come out the way it did, “I’m just saying I know you have more important things to focus on and I don’t want to be the reason that you can’t focus on those things.” 

 “Are you breaking up with me?” He scoffs. 

 It takes you a second too long to respond. 

 “You can’t just break up with me because you’re pregnant, Baby,” he’s softer now and holds both of your hands in yours, “fuck - we’ll get married tomorrow and tell everyone it was a Honeymoon child.” 

 You pull your hands away and cover your face, “that’s not the point, Shawn. You don’t have time for this - or the energy. I don’t want to be sitting at home all alone with a baby while you’re traveling the world. A child needs a father around.” 

 “So I’ll take time off -” 

 “I can’t ask you to do that, Shawn.” 

 He scoffs, “so what the fuck are you asking me to do then?” 

 “I don’t know,” you mumble. 

 He drops your hands and puts the Jeep back into drive, peeling off down the street. Shawn’s grip on the wheel is so tight you can see the skin around his knuckles turning white. He chews the inside of his cheek, fighting back all the venomous words he wants to say to you. You give him credit for keeping his mouth shut.

 The two of you drive in silence the rest of the way to the Mendes’ household. The party is already in full swing when you arrive. Shawn’s quick to exit the car, not bothering to open the passenger door for you like he always does. You follow behind him to the front door and inside. 

 “Ah, the prodigal son returns,” Aaliyah greets with arms crossed. 

 “Hello sister,” Shawn pulls her into a big hug.

 She groans and wiggles out of his grip to give you a big hug, “missed you!” She squeaks, “him not so much.” 

 Shawn shrugs, “I’ll remember that when your sweet sixteen rolls around and mom and dad won’t buy you a new car.” 

 You watch him walk away into the kitchen to greet the rest of his family. The tears are threatening to spill over again, so you excuse yourself from Aaliyah and practically run for the bathroom. You shut and lock the door, stepping in front of the vanity to give yourself a good once over. Needless to say, you look a mess; eyes are rimmed red from crying, there’s a flush in your face and blotches of red muck up your cheeks.

 “Just breathe, get through today, you can deal with the rest later,” you say to yourself, clutching the countertop. 

 Turning on the faucet, you splash some cold water on your face to try and calm down. It somewhat works, or at the very least gives you enough courage to step back out to the party. Shawn’s in the kitchen talking to his parents, his dad cooking something over the stove and his mom putting together drinks in the blender. You approach slowly and wrap your arms around Shawn from behind. 

 He’s rigid, and doesn’t immediately respond to your touch. You kiss his shoulder through the cotton of his teeshirt and he relaxes a little under you. 

 “Shawn here was just telling us about how you’ve been looking at engagement rings,” Karen winks, “pick something shiny!” She whispers. 

 You laugh it off and Shawn pulls you from behind him and places your body in front of his. His parents go back to busying themselves as hosts and Shawn continues to hold you in his arms and not say anything. 

 He kisses the top of your head, “we still have a lot to talk about, but I don’t want to be pissed off at my parent’s party. I also really want to eat a cheeseburger and you know being pissed off gives me indigestion.” 

 You let out a breathy laugh and turn to bury your face in his neck, kissing his collarbone, “I love you, I’m sorry, I want this to work.” 

 Shawn hugs you tighter swaying you back and forth to the music that floats in from the speakers outside, “yeah, I do too.” 

 ---

 Two hours later you’re sitting at the edge of the pool in the Mendes’ backyard. Music is booming, friends and family are laughing and drinking and swimming. You lean back and welcome the hot sun against your skin. It’s a warm burn, and a welcomed distraction from this morning. You and Shawn decided to keep it a secret, for now. To wait until you two had decided what your next step is going to be. 

 “You know, I’m still not against putting a ring on it,” Shawn sits next to you and dips his bare legs into the pool. 

 You roll your eyes at him, “while I’m not against it in the future, I’d like to be able to drink at my own wedding.” 

 He kisses your forehead, “fair enough,” Shawn kicks your foot underwater, his lips still pressed to your forehead, “stop thinking so much about it. Just relax and try to have fun today, please?” 

 You nod, “yeah, yeah I will.” 

 A ball hits the back of Shawn’s head and you hear the chorus of giggles coming from his little cousins behind you. They can’t be older than maybe two or three. 

 “Come pway, Shawnie!” The little girl demands, she already has a juice stain on the front of her dress and she runs away when Shawn gets up to run after her. 

 You watch as he chases her around the backyard and scoops her up, swinging her around. She laughs and laughs and laughs until tears are running down her face. When Shawn puts her back down again she runs off to the next adult to get attention from. He looks at you and shrugs, your heart feeling so giant it may burst.

 “Want a drink, love?” Karen hands you one of her famous Daiquiris. 

 The reason it’s famous is for the massive amounts of rum she puts into it.

 “Oh no thank you,” you decline, “my stomach isn’t feeling the greatest today.” 

 She hums and places her palm on your forehead to check your temperature, “hmm, alright. I’ll make you a virgin one then.” 

 “You’re seriously the best,” you say, and she pats your head once before walking away. 

 You watch Shawn as he plays with one of his cousin’s babies. He can’t be more than a year old, just learning how to walk. Shawn props him up, offering him a finger to hang onto and they walk slowly across the lawn, the baby waddling beside him, babbling. They have a pretend conversation and you bite your lip to hold back a laugh as Shawn talks to the baby about vintage Fender guitars.

 Shawn lets go to let him walk by himself and he manages for a few steps before falling backwards onto his bum. Immediately, the baby is in tears, screaming. Shawn scoops him up and holds him close, cooing and rubbing his back until he stops.

 “See? You’re fine!” He says wiping away the baby’s tears, and plops him back down on the ground. He watches him crawl back over to his parents.

 Shawn catches your eye from across the yard and starts walking back to you, “you ready to swim yet, Baby?” 

 “Not today,” you respond. 

 “Suit yourself.” 

 Shawn pulls his shirt off and drops it on your lap before diving into the pool, splashing you. He swims up to the edge where you sit and kisses your knees, pulling himself between your legs. Honestly, he looks like a fucking God all wet in front of you.

 “The water is perfect,” he groans, leaning back into the water, “you should really come in.” 

 “I’m not feeling it today, Shawn, really.” 

 “Well - too bad!” 

 Before you can protest he’s pulling you in, fully clothed. 

 “You fucking asshole!” You complain through gritted teeth. 

 Shawn wraps an arm around you, using his other to keep the two of you afloat, “rule number one of parenting: don’t swear with the kids around,” he says before pecking your cheek. 

 He lets you go and swims away, you chase after him, splashing and pushing him under when you get to him. It’s playful and fun, the glimmer in his eyes and the creases in his cheeks when he smiles stops your breath for a moment. He kisses your temple and you almost forget about the pregnancy and the argument on the drive over. For now, it’s just this moment.

 “Everyone out of the pool, it’s time to eat!” Manny yells from the grill. 

 You and Shawn are the last ones out, too caught up in each other and below the surface touches, and sneaked kisses. He’s happily nibbling on your neck when his dad speaks up again, “Shawn, you eat cheeseburgers, not your girlfriend!” 

 Shawn opens his mouth to speak and you slap a palm over it, “I swear to God if you make a pussy eating joke in front of your whole family I’m going to drown you in this pool.” 

 He just grins and helps you out of the pool. Karen is already waiting with warm towels to wrap yourselves in, “here, come with me darling, we’ll find you something dry to change into.” 

 She pulls you into the house and upstairs to Shawn’s old bedroom. It’s the same as it was the day he moved out. You remember it the same as when you were younger but things seemed so much smaller now, and the world is so much bigger. You change into the warm clothes that Karen brought for you. There really is no better feeling than putting on dry clothes after swimming. You revel in that little moment for a second, laying on Shawn’s old bed.

 “Knock knock!” 

 It’s Karen.

 “Just checking to see how you’re doing.” 

 You scrunch your face, “I’m fine.”

 She tilts her head and does that total mom look, “oh honey,” she places her hand on yours, “I know you’re pregnant.” 

 “I cannot believe he told -” 

 “He didn’t have to, sweetie. I can see that stressed look on your face, you were crying in the bathroom when you got here, you didn’t have a drink,” she taps her temple, “pretty easy to put together.” 

 “Fuck,” you sigh, “I’m so sorry.” 

 Karen rubs your back, “why are you saying sorry?” 

 “Because I’m going to fuck everything up that he’s worked so hard for,” you sniff, fighing the tears, “it’s not fair to him.” 

 She sighs, “I know my son, I know he loves you. I also know he loves what he does, but I know he’ll be responsible for this baby with whatever path you decide to take.”

 You rest your head on her shoulder, “thanks, Mama K.” 

 “What’d you do to make her cry?!” Shawn squawks from the doorway.

 He comes and sits on the other side of you.

 “I think this is my cue,” Karen says, giving you a pat on the leg and leaving you and Shawn alone in his bedroom. 

 “She knows,” you mutter.

 “You told my mom?!” 

 You shake your head, “no, she just knew.” 

 “Well cats out of the bag then. Karen can’t keep a secret to save her life. Half the town will know by the time we get back downstairs.”

 You laugh and press your face into his shoulder, “are we making the right decision?” 

 Shawn puts his arm around you and holds you close, “as long as we’re in it together, it’s the right decision.”

[angelic-holland]

Can I request reader's first time ever having an actual, real orgasm in her life, with Haz? Thank you!

I’m so sorry this is so long but I hope this is okay @hoforhaz

***

“I mean, I’ve never you know,” you sigh, groaning into your hands as Harrison and your friends watch you struggle for words.

You were all playing never have I ever, and Tom jokingly said “never have I ever had an orgasm” so everyone would be forced to drink. When you didn’t, everyone stared at you in disbelief, which made you all too flustered for your liking.

“I’m uh, I’m not feeling too well, is it okay if someone walks me back to my place?” You say, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes as you stand up.

“Sure, I’ll take you,” Harrison says, standing up as well. You’re a little more than tipsy as you turn around, trying to calm your nerves and the anxiety that came with being the only one of your group of friends who hadn’t had an orgasm before.

“I’m sorry Tom’s an ass,” he says, keeping an arm around your shoulder as you walk home.

“No it’s fine, I mean, for fucks sake, I’m old enough, I should have by now I just never-,” you pause in front of your flat, turning to Harrison as he drops his arm from your shoulder.

His face is slightly blurry but you can still make out the calm blue eyes that act like an anchor in a sea of crowded people. Just looking at him eases your nerves.

“It’s okay, you don’t need to explain yourself to me,” Harrison assured you as you hurry to unlock your door.

“Oh uhm, yeah, of course,” you nod, rubbing the back of your neck as the wind picks up and chills run down your spine.

“Just, do you need me to stay? In case you get sick or anything?” Harrison asks, subtle interest in his voice as he runs a hand through his blond hair, making it stick up all over the place even more than it already had.

“My roommates here, but uh, I’ll see you around,” you sigh, already feeling humiliated enough, not wanting the boy who you’ve got a massive crush on to think you’re even more of a baby if he has to take care of you.

“Yeah, is it okay if I stop by tomorrow? Like later, just to check in?”

And you find the question odd, because he can easily text you or call you to check in but you’re definitely not going to say no to a house call.

“Sure, be safe walking back Haz,” you nod, flushing as he presses a quick kiss to your cheek before quickly walking down the stairs and back onto the sidewalk.

You wake up the next day remembering most of the night before, you remember the way Harrison’s lips were cold from the chill outside but the moment he kissed your cheek, you felt like your insides were on fire. Not a mad, crazy, itching fire. But a subtle fire, like you were sitting in front of a fireplace on Christmas Eve.

After showering and trying to calm your headache by medicine and water, you decide for a lazy day in, watching cartoons in bed.

It isn’t until there’s a ringing of your doorbell you remmeber what Harrison said. That he’s going to check in on you.

You want to scramble to change out of fuzzy pink pajama bottoms and a tank top but you don’t want to leave Harrison waiting in the cold, so you slide down the hall in just that, making sure it was him before opening the door.

“Hey,” you whisper, peeking your head out.

“Hi, love,” Harrison smiles, cheeks and nose red, he shivers slightly and you almost smack yourself, opening the door wide and ushering him inside.

“I’m still alive,” you laugh meekly, walking back toward your room, you totally forgot to pause your show and you didn’t want to miss any piece of the newest episode.

“Glad to hear it,” Harrison says, leaning against the door to your room as you turn the TV off.

“I’m sorry for pulling you away from the get together last night.”

“It’s fine, I don’t mean to pry but, have you ever, did you seriously never have an orgasm before or did you just say that so you didn’t have to drink?”

The question makes you feel awkward, shuffling around your room cleaning and putting away random things as you try to come up with an answer. How to tell the hot boy in your room that you’re a clueless virgin.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up-,”

“I’ve just never really had a long term boyfriend and I’ve never-,”

“So you’re a virgin?”

You swear Harrison’s light blue eyes get darker and his voice gets deeper when he asks the question.

You nod, turning away as you cross your arms and struggle for more words.

“I just- I mean I’m such a baby, god,” your breath hitches as you feel his hands on your waist.

“No you’re not, love, in fact, I think it’s hot,” Haz whispers, his lips brushing over your ear as he speaks, gently pushing your tank top ever so slightly, just so he can rest his hands on bare skin.

Your entire body trembles as he kisses down your neck, pausing when you whimper, sucking and biting at the skin until a beautiful hickey blossomed there.

“That means we can figure out how to make you feel good, together,” he whispers, turning you in his arms.

“Together?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows.

“I’ve wanted you for a while, y/n, and I’d be honored to help show you how to orgasm.”

“Haz,” you breathe out as he pulls you flush to him, your nipples hard against your tank top as his hands slip down to grab your ass.

“You want that?” Harrison asks, his forehead resting on your own.

“Please,” you sigh as he begins to walk you backward to your bed.

“What do you want from me?”

“Can we, can we just uh stay mostly clothed?” You ask, nervous to show him all of yourself.

“Whatever you’d like,” Haz says, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

You find yourself with your chest against Harrison’s back. He’s fully clothed and you’ve just taken off your pajama bottoms. There’s a wet patch on your lilac panties and when Harrison saw it, he groaned, his cock hard against your ass. One of his hands is around your stomach, keeping you flush with him as his other hand begins to stroke you over your panties.

His mouth is all over your neck and you’re positive it will look like some contemporary piece in a museum by the time he’s finished. You don’t mind.

“Can I touch your breasts, baby girl?” Harrison asks. Normally the name would make you cringe, especially since you were so inexperienced and it could sound demeaning. But it was jaw dropping coming from Haz.

“Please,” you beg and his hand around your waist moves to cup your breast, slowly pushing your tank top down to pull your breast out, exposing your nipple to the cool air.

“You’re so wet for me, want me to touch you under your panties? Or do you want to keep this up?” Harrison asks, voice thick as his fingers roll your nipple between them.

“Over, for now, if that’s okay,” you moan as his thumb catches your clit over your panties, absolutely soaked now.

“Anything you want, just want to make you feel good baby girl,” Haz whispers, your head falling back against his shoulder as he pushes your tank top down more and exposes your other breast.

“More,” you gasp after a few more minutes of him just rubbing you, your hips canting upward to his movement.

“Under?” He asks, kissing your cheek as you nod.

The feeling of his hand cupping your pussy is like nothing you’ve experienced before and no part of your imagination could’ve ever prepared you for it.

His fingers run through your slick, rubbing your clit to the pace your hips set.

“How will I know when I- fuck,” you gasp, pleasure washing over you as his thumb and forefinger gently pinch your clit.

“You’ll know, trust me baby girl,” Harrison whispers, reassuring you as one of his fingers dips not even an inch into your entrance and there’s this odd tightening in your stomach.

“I bet you’d taste so good, love to eat this pretty pussy,” he whispers, your moans getting higher and higher pitched as you writhe against his touch, wanting, needing more.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you? My lips around that clit, fucking you with my tongue?”

“Haz! Fuck I think I’m gonna, oh god,” you groan, wetting your lips as Harrison speeds up the movement on your clit, pushing his finger deeper inside of you and crooking it just so, hitting part of you that makes you snap.

“Harrison! Ah, fuck, Haz, oh my god,” you cry out, legs shaking as Harrison pulls his finger out of you and slows his thumb against your clit.

“Now that, baby girl, is an orgasm.”

[oliviaadamswrites]

Plus Signs - Chapter 10

[Part of Souvenirs Series] [Read via AO3]

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Prompt: Chris and his new lady brought back a souvenir from Disneyland and now begins the fun of telling their families. Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Smut... all the things. Word Count: 7,086

[<<< Chapter Nine] [[<<< Chapter One]]

CHAPTER NOTES: This chapter has been years in the making. Literally. It has been through many iterations, many mood changes, many "this is garbage I'm completely starting over" hissy fits... and everything in between. I've been sitting on this version for over a year now, terrified to publish this much ANGST. But, it's past time. Chris and the Reader have so much more to experience and, I want to get there. To get there meant I needed to get past this hurdle. Maybe this could have been two chapters, or even three, but... I digress. THE HURDLE... If you are still reading this, after so long... I am so thankful! If you are getting into this fic series for the first time... I am so thankful! I just hope you won't have to experience multiple year long hiatuses, like your for-readers! HA Ok... please enjoy!

                       ________________________________________

Chris and I had spent Thanksgiving in Boston and would be spending Christmas with my family. The simple fact that Chris was worried about me traveling “so late in the pregnancy” had settled the deal, despite the fact that my doctor had given the go-ahead to travel much further along.

I had quickly found that when it came to me feeling the slightest bit of discomfort, in any way shape or form, it was simply easier to let Chris make the decisions. His constant worry was ever present yet, thankfully, adorable and hadn’t driven me crazy. On the other hand, figuring out a name for this child was going to drive us both absolutely bonkers.

“Please tell me you are joking,” I glared at Chris’s image on my phone.

“Seriously? You don’t like it?” he laughed.

“No, absolutely not. Our child will not be named Christopher Robin.” I propped the device against the decorative bowl on my kitchen table, freeing my hands to cut a piece of chicken in half.

“Fine,” he scoffed, taking a sip of his water. “How’s your chicken?”

“Delicious,” I mumbled with my mouth still full. “Yours?”

“I ruined it, I really did.” He shook his head, staring at the plate in front of him, just off camera. “I just can’t figure out what I did wrong.”

“I told you to be careful to not cook it too long,” I teased, taking a dramatic bite of food.

“You be nice!” He pointed at me with his fork, squinting his eyes. I smiled back mockingly, my lips tight across my teeth. “Don’t make me cut you off from date night!”

“You wouldn’t dare!” I pulled my napkin to my chest in mock horror. “You like this too much.”

“I do,” he conceded. “I definitely do. I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world?”

“Except actually being here with me… right?” I raised one eyebrow to him.

“Of course! I’d give anything for that!” His eyes went dark as he pursed his lips.

“Hey,” I urged softly. “No crying on date night.”

“I’m not,” Chris shook his head, smiling. “I promise.”

“Good… because we have business to attend to,” I sighed out, pushing my plate away.

“You sound so excited,” he teased.

“I’m sorry, I’m just tired,” I sighed again.

“And?” he pressed.

“And… I’m worried that we’ll never agree on a name.” I felt my face twist in worry.

Hiding my emotions and true feelings from Chris was something that I failed at continuously. It wasn’t just that I was bad at it, it was that he seemed to read between the lines. Always watching the smallest of facial expressions, listening to my tone and inflection. He well and truly heard the things I said and even more so the things I didn’t say.

“We have time. We have so much more time,” he soothed my worries with his low voice.

“Not really,” I countered.

“Really? We have like…” he paused and looked up and to the side with his eyes. “… Seventeen more weeks? We will totally nail down a name before then. Way before then.”

“I guess we don’t really have another choice, do we?” I laughed at the realization.

“No, no we don’t,” he chuckled. “So what’s on the short list?”

“We don’t even have a short list!” I cried out, lifting my hands into the air, exasperated.

“Ok, ok!” He raised his palms to me in surrender. “It’s ok. It’s fine. What’s on the long list?”

I pulled my notebook around and flipped it open, settling on the page littered with scribbles, doodles, lists, scratched out names and notes about people we didn’t like and therefore couldn’t use their names.

“We have roughly sixty five million girl names that we love, forty million girl names that we like… and… exactly 3 names for a boy that we ‘don’t hate’…” I finger quoted the air.

“Well, maybe that means she’s a girl.” Chris was grinning at me from the screen.

“Maybe.” I smiled back. “But we still need to narrow down the girl names and get some more boy names on board.”

“I still say Christopher Robin.” His eyes lit up, knowing that he was pushing my buttons.

“Not only is that silly, but its way too close to your name,” I scowled at him.

“Well, if it is a boy… maybe we could name him after me?” Now his face twisted in an adorable questioning way, one eyebrow up, one scowled, his lips pulled to the side in a smirk.

“I am so glad we are having this conversation on facetime!” I nearly squealed at the sight of his face.

“What?! Why?”

I watched his face turn to innocent concern.

“Just to watch your face right now. In this moment. To see how you’re really feeling, behind what you’re saying, showing on your face!” I leaned forward, layering my arms on the table in front of me, inching closer to my phone.

“Don’t you start talking about my eyebrows right now! Don’t do it!” he play shouted, covering his forehead with one hand.

“I love you,” I laughed the words out. “I love you so much.”

“I love you,” he sighed back.

“You really want to name your boy after you?”

“I do,” he nodded, smiling.

“I can tell.” I took a deep breath to settle myself and continued. “So, we will name our son, if we have a son, after his father.”

“Really? You mean that?” His face lit up with joy.

“Of course I mean it, you silly man! I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.” I leaned back, crossing my arms over my chest. “Naming this baby is stressful enough, I’m not going to joke about something that clearly means something to you.” I looked down at my ever expanding belly and ran my hands over and over, smiling. “Tiny Christopher Junior.”

“Tiny Christopher Junior,” he repeated.

“Junior… or the second?” I looked back to the phone now.

“Junior, for sure. Our kid can’t walk around Boston thinking he’s some prince or something, with the second,” he shook his head roughly, chuckling to himself.

“Boston?” My heart fluttered at the thought of moving.

“I’m sure he’ll visit there, at least once in his life, right?” He winked at me, quickly easing my worries. I wasn’t ready to have that conversation yet and he knew it.

“Of course he will,” I agreed.

“Ok, so we have a boy name picked out,” he cheered. “Air high five!”

We mimicked a high-five between our phones and both erupted into a fit of giggles.

“We are going to be horrible parents!” I roared in laughter.

“No, no no no! We are going to be fun parents!”

“Well, that’s for sure!” I agreed, whole heartedly.

“Alright,” he popped a piece of chicken into his mouth and immediately made a sour face. He turned his face from the camera to swipe the offending food way into his napkin.

“That bad huh?” I pulled my lips between my teeth, attempting to maintain composure.

“Ugh, yes,” he grumbled. “I’m picking the recipe next time.”

“Oh come on! You can’t blame the recipe! Mine turned out just fine.”

“Yeah, well… I’ll pick something that I know I can cook for next time.” He fidgeted with his plate, obviously moving his chicken away from the rest of his food.

“That sounds fair. Just no barbeque. You know I can’t barbeque.”

“Deal.” He poked around his plate some more and then settled his eyes on the screen again. “I’m gonna see you in a few days anyway. Maybe I’ll barbeque for you while I’m there.”

“I like that idea.” I smiled at the idea of Chris cooking at my house. Moving around my house, like he belonged here. Because he does belong here.

He had started to leave things at my place, here and there. A shirt one time, left behind for me to sleep in. A toothbrush another time, after forgetting his own and needing to buy one. The next time he bought an entire set of toiletries to leave behind. I had surprised him by clearing out space in the master bathroom for his things to take up residence. Now, it seemed that each trip his luggage was getting smaller and smaller. He had a small selection of button down shirts hanging in my closet. A handful of t-shirts, some pants and workout clothes, were neatly folded in my dresser. One pair of flip flops, a pair of running shoes and a pair of casual shoes were lined up in the corner of the closet. A spare charger was permanently plugged in at the nightstand on “his” side of my bed. His toiletries now co-mingled with my own in the bathroom. He even had a favorite coffee mug, which I secretly used nearly every morning that he wasn’t there.

“So what is on the baby check list while I’m home?” he interrupted my thoughts with a quiet question. I smiled at the mention of “home” and his face lit up as he registered my delight.

“Well…” I started, turning pages in my notebook again. “Besides picking a girl name? Finish painting. Assemble the crib. Decorate. Pick out some bedding to put on the baby registry.”

“Ooh, do we get to use one of those beepy things at Target?” He was nearly bouncing in excitement.

“If you want to,” I laughed. “But if we find something that we like online, then we’ll just add it to the Amazon registry.”

“I say we check Target first. I really want to use one of those things.” He shook his head as his own ridiculousness.

“We can check Target first,” I assured him.

“When is your shower, again?”

“The first weekend in March.”

“So loooooong. I want to buy stuff now,” he whined.

“I do too… but they’re really excited about this. We should let them have their fun.” I really was so glad that my family was being so supportive. Mom had a not-so-secret stash of baby things, “hidden” in the guest room closet. Dad gave me updates each time Mom or my sister added to the stash. So far it seems that it was mostly clothes, for both boys and girls. Dad said Mom was going to save the un-needed clothes for the next baby. When Dad confessed all of this to me I laughed so hard that I cried.

“I know, you’re right,” he conceded. “We’re still doing the nursery decorations ourselves, right?”

“Yes, we are. So get your butt back out here so we can work on it!” I was suddenly sad, missing him so much it was nearly painful.

“Hey,” he urged gently. “I will be there in a few days. We will decorate and paint and I will cook for you and rub your feet and…”

“And cuddle in bed?” I raised my eyebrows to him, simply missing his touch. Missing his presence in the house. Missing his laughter echoing off the walls.

“And cuddle in bed,” he agreed. “And do other things in bed.”

I snorted a laugh in response.

“Hey now, the doctor keeps saying that these hormones are supposed to make you crazy for me!” His eyes went wide in exaggeration.

“I’m already crazy for you,” I argued.

“You sure about that?”

“Of course I am!” I cried out. “Are you complaining about the frequency? Or is the quality not up to your expectations?” I squinted my eyes at him.

“Neither!” He surrendered his palms again, laughing. “Neither, I swear. I was just teasing! I promise!”

“I was just teasing, too.” A smile broke across my face and I burst into giggles.

“Oh man, you got me… I swear. I’m so scared to make you mad. Supposedly these hormones are supposed to make you like…”

“Crazy?” I interrupted, still laughing.

“I didn’t say crazy!” He held up a finger in protest.

“No, I did.” I took a deep breath and sighed, calming myself. “I’m not crazy though, right?”

“Not at all, honey. Not at all.”

… … …  … … …

A few long and tiring days later Chris arrived, letting himself into my home with the key I had forced into his hand the last time he left. The argument was laid moot at my insistence that if something were to happen, he needed a key.

Nothing bad had happened, but I was thankful that Chris had his key when he found me snoozing at my desk in the studio

“Good morning sunshine,” he crooned as I blinked my eyes open.

“I can’t believe I fell asleep,” I groaned, lifting my head from the desk surface, a paper sewing pattern coming with my cheek. Chris chuckled gently peeling the paper off.

“Is it time to take maternity leave?” He joked and looked around the room. The clutter made my exhaustion obvious. On the cutting table, a pair of dressmaking sheers lay open, topping a pile of cut fabric, with scraps littering the surrounding surface. A new pattern lay nearby, only half taped together. Both serger and sewing machine stood proudly lit, still switched on. Piles of old and new fabric, haphazardly hanging from their shelves, bolts threatening to fall over, near ones that already had.

My eyes followed his gaze around the room, landing on my laptop that I had pushed to the side, still brightly lit with my webhost back end on the screen. I shook my head and clicked ‘save’, hoping that my edits hadn’t timed out. With confirmation of my changes I checked my phone, noting five missed calls. Three from Chris and two from Kate.

“I need to call Kate,” I rasped, before clearing my throat.

“To talk to her about maternity leave?” Concern was etched across Chris’ face.

“No… not yet,” I scowled as I clicked through my phone. E-mails from a fabric designer filled my inbox. I winced. “Remember that conference I skipped to come to New Mexico?”

“I do,” he nodded slowly.

“I was supposed to meet with a fabric designer…”

“A big one, right? Your sister told me.”

“Yes,” I sighed out disappointment in myself. “Basically, I lied and told her I was sick and needed to reschedule. Then later told her that I’m pregnant.”

“Ok… and?” Chris didn’t hide the confusion.

“She assumed the illness was morning sickness and was actually really cool about it,” I felt my eyebrows raise and I filled him in.

“That’s a good thing, right?”

“It is! Yes… but… it pushed back the design. It was working out to be an exclusive fabric design for me. For my clothing line.”

“That’s amazing, honey!” Chris beamed at me, then scowled. “Wait, so what it wrong?”

“We haven’t found time to get together, so everything has been through email, which pushes back the timeline. With the fabric design pushed back, the clothing design gets pushed back and I just really want this line to AT LEAST be in manufacturing before the baby is born.” I rubbed my temples and closed my eyes. Chris was right, I needed a break, but there was no way I would enjoy maternity leave, knowing my company was left hanging. And to be fair, it seemed way too early for maternity leave.

“Ok… alright… we’ve got this. It’s ok.” Chris turned my desk chair toward him and knelt in front of me. “So, what do we need to do to get to that point… or to get to a point that you can leave it to Kate?”

“I can’t leave it all to Kate. This is my company!” Tears welled in my eyes. “I can’t do that. This is my design. This is what I’ve been waiting for! An exclusive fabric for such a small company… it’s so hard! I can’t just walk away! I want to enjoy this. I’ve worked SO hard for it!” I could feel my emotions taking over. These damn hormones.

“Oh honey,” Chris pulled me into a hug. “You will! It’ll be ok!”

“No!” I wailed. “It won’t! I have to take maternity leave at some point… I have to take a break! I’m losing my mind, I swear! I’m exhausted all the time and then when I sleep, I dream of sewing!”

“Let’s take a little break, get out of this room, go put that crib together!” Chris looked at me expectantly.

“I was dreaming about sewing the baby’s bedding, when you woke me up,” I nearly whispered, shaking my head slowly.

“Oh honey,” Chris whispered, pulling me into another hug.

“I don’t know what to do right now. I’m so tired, I can’t think.” I sniffled, wiped my eyes and pulled my head up to look him in the face, for what seemed like the first time since he woke me. “And I need a shower, so bad.”

“Alright,” Chris stood abruptly. “I’ve got this.”

“You do?” My face twisted in amusement and confusion.

“Yep. You need a shower, a break and some help. I’ve got this.” He straightened up, putting his hands on his hips and surveyed the room again. “Go get in the shower. I’m going to get Kate in here to clean up… AH!” He held up a finger when I tried to protest. “I will pay her for her time today and then I think we should maybe talk to her about either changing her schedule, or taking on more hours.”

“And then what?” I sighed, knowing he was right.

“Then, when you get out of the shower, you’re going to answer those emails,” he motioned at my phone. “Then we can eat something or you can take a nap, but you’ll decide that AFTER you shower. Alright?”

“Alright.” I agreed, succumbing to his help. “Let me get you Kate’s number.”

“You’re silly if you think I don’t already have it,” he chuckled, retrieving his phone from his back pocket. “Get in the shower, now. You smell.”

“I do not!” I protested, standing with the assistance of his free hand.

“You don’t,” he smiled, kissing the top of my head. “But, I don’t like seeing you like this.”

“I hear it’s worse once the baby comes,” I teased.

“I won’t like that either, but I’ll do whatever I can to help. I can promise you that.” With a gentle push I was out the door and walking across my back yard. Simply being outside in the fresh air was already a welcome change. I glanced around, imagining playing with our sweet little girl that was yet to come.

“We should get a swing set back here,” Chris called from the doorway of the pool house studio.

“I was just thinking that,” I called back.

“Shower first. I can smell you from here!” His chuckle almost choked off his words.

To say I took a long shower would be the understatement of history. I started with the shower, steaming hot, standing under the cascade with my eyes closed. When my legs tired I longed for a bath and switched to the tub faucet, plugging the drain as I sat down to enjoy the bath.

Chris knocked softly on the door as he opened it slightly.

“Did you fall asleep in there?” His voice was low, as if he didn’t want to interrupt me, had I actually been sleeping.

“No,” I giggled. “Just reveling at how my belly sort of floats in the tub.”

“Just your belly?” I heard his tone change.

“Well, no, but… my boobs always floated,” my giggle bubbling into a laugh.

“I’m sad I never noticed that.” I could hear the smile in his voice before he peeked around the curtain.

“Cool, huh?” I smiled up at him, my hands running down my stomach.

“Very,” his smile turned and he tipped his head to the side. “Is she moving?”

“She’s movin,” I stopped my hand, attempting to feel her kicks from the outside. “Wanna try to feel again?”

“Eh… I’m kinda worried I’ll just be disappointed again.” He shrugged his feelings away and sat on the edge of the tub.

“I have a good feeling this time,” I grinned as I felt a tapping from my belly, on my hand.

“Oh do you now?” He shifted his weight and moved his hand to hover over mine, in a silent request for permission to touch me.

I took Chris’ hand in my free hand, sliding it under my opposite palm. We waited, our eyes locked. I felt a small bubble of movement, deep in my belly and frowned.

“I don’t know…” his face fell completely, dejected and disappointed.

“Shh, give her a second,” I scowled back at him. As if on cue, the tiniest of kicks made my eyebrows shoot up. “Did you feel that!?”

“No.” Chris exhaled through his nose as tears welled in his eyes. “I swear I’m never gonna….”

He was interrupted by jab, straight to his hand, as if to say “DAD! Shut it! I’m here!”

“HA!” I yelped. “You felt THAT!” My face split into a grin and tears spilled over with no warning.

“I did… I… Wow… Oh my god!” Another kick stopped his speech. “I swear, everything she does… it all makes me cry!” Tears streamed down his face, dropping into the tub.

“Well, you’re a daddy,” I spoke softly, my voice cracking with my own emotion.

“I’m a daddy,” he whispered.

“Now you’re really never going to take your hand off my stomach,” I smiled away my happy tears.

“Nope, never!” He straightened up. “Have you even washed yourself or have you just been enjoying the water?”

“Just enjoying the water,” I sighed contentedly, taking his free hand to place next to the one already on me.

“You’ll need to do that. I don’t want to hear any whining about tangled hair or being itchy from the water.”

“I will. As soon as you’re out of here,” I looked up at him through my eyelashes.

“OH, I’m not leaving!” His eyebrows lifted in a i-dare-you-to-tell-me-to-leave look.

“What? Then how am I supposed to wash myself?”

“Oh, don’t let me bother you. I’ll stay out of your way as best as I can!” With that, he grinned and abruptly barrel rolled over me, into the tub, landing between me and wall. Water sloshed out over the edge in a tsunami, soaking the rugs and bath mat.

“Christopher!” I yelped, trying to sit up.

“What?” He feigned innocence, then winked. “Like I said, don’t let me bother you… but I’ll wash your belly for you if you’d like.”

“Your clothes are soaked!”

“Uh… everything is soaked,” he nearly cackled, his hands still firmly on my round stomach. “Lucky for me, I’ve brought extra clothes!”

So there he stayed, while I drained the tub, stood and restarted the shower. I washed my hair and face, all while his hands stayed put. I poured soap into my loofah and eyed him, holding out the sponge, only to be met with a shake of his head and a laugh.

Once my entire body, minus my stomach, was clean, Chris took the loofah from me and began to wash my belly slowly, gently, almost as if I were made of glass.

“Can you still feel her moving?” I nearly whispered.

“I can,” he grinned, washing with the loofah as his free hand trailed behind it, never missing a spot or an opportunity to feel his little girl move.

“This has been simultaneously one of the weirdest and best days.”

“It’s only weird because you fell asleep on your desk,” he teased.

“Uh… and my baby daddy jumped into the tub with me, fully clothed,” I reminded him.

“Baby daddy,” he repeated in a sarcastic chuckle, scowling.

“Hey,” I called to him gently, blatantly ignoring his attempt at letting the moment pass. I lifted his chin with my fingers and felt my face twist in worry. “Hey…” I nearly cooed.

“It’s fine.” He shook his head from my hand and went back to washing.

“Not, it’s not. You’re not fine.”

“No… I’m not.” He stood and rinsed the loofah in the running shower behind me, one hand still on my soapy belly.

“Talk to me?” I nearly begged, standing on tip toe in an attempt to get eye level with him.

“I don’t want to fight.” His voice was low, pain dripping from every word, as he set about hanging the loofah, closing and putting away soap bottles, all one handed.

“I don’t either,” I was taken aback. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. He’s tired of the baby daddy joke. Shit.

“Then we won’t.” He forced a smile and turned me away from him, to rinse the soap from my body. His hands moved as slowly and gently as before, with no hint as to how he was feeling.

“Chris, don’t…” I could barely get the words out. Would this be our first fight? Shit! “Please talk to me.”

“No, not right now. Not while you’re naked and we’re in the shower.”

“And you’re fully clothed in the shower?” I wasn’t sure if I meant it as a joke, to lighten the mood, or if I just didn’t know what to say. I knew immediately it was the wrong thing to say, when he recoiled from me, both of his hands coming off of my stomach.

“I said I don’t want to fight… not that I want to joke about it.” His body went rigid.

I spun around in his arms that still formed a barrier around me and reached for his face. He recoiled, again.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my hands falling to my sides. It didn’t seem appropriate to rest them on my stomach, no matter the fact that my stomach was still my body. It didn’t seem appropriate to put my hands where his had just been, in such joy.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” His voice was hollow, his eyes filling with angry tears, where there had just been happy tears. “I don’t want this conversation to go like this. Not now, not here, not because I got angry. Not like this.”

“What conversation!?” I was suddenly terrified that my worst fears were coming true. Shit.

“Let’s get out of the shower,” he proclaimed, pulling the curtain aside calmly and stepping out.

I exhaled sharply, my hands flying to cover my mouth. I tried to hide the sob, to hold it in, but it broke through. I surrendered to the desperate crying that took over and looked down, placing my hands on my belly. No, no no no no. Did I just screw things up THAT bad, THAT fast?

“Chris?” I choked through the tears, frozen in the shower.

“Out of the shower, please?” He reached in, twisting off the tap and held out a bath sheet.

That fucking towel. THAT towel? That huge towel you bought for me when I complained that my belly got so big that I could barely get my towel around me. That towel, that you surprised me with!? That’s the towel you’re going to hand to me right before you break up with me!?

I stood shaking, naked, wet and cold, staring into his eyes. I could read nothing. There was nothing.

“Y/N, please!” He thrust the towel towards me as a reminder of its presence. Yet, I couldn’t move. I couldn’t take the towel. Not THAT towel. Not any towel, from him. So I stood. He sighed in frustration and began to dry me off. Squeezing out my hair, gently pressing the terry cloth to my face, my neck, my breasts.

“Stop,” I pleaded through a sob. He continued, gently drying my arms and legs. He turned me from my shoulders, to face away from him, and dried my back and butt. I felt my body heave with emotion as he turned me back to face him. “Stop, please.”

“No,” his eyes stuck on my stomach. “I told you, I can’t do this with you naked, not here, not like this.” He took the towel to my stomach and gently dried my skin of every last drop of water.

“Chris!” I struggled to regain composure.

“Do you need lotion?” A single eyebrow raised on his face and I came undone.

“No, I don’t need lotion! I can’t do this, Chris! Don’t do this to me!” I sobbed, covering my face.

“You can’t DO this?” He nearly yelled, standing up. “What does that mean!?”

“I don’t need lotion! I need YOU!” I wailed now, with no care in the world of the fact that I was naked, no care of who heard me. I couldn’t do this.

“You need ME?” He nearly bellowed the words. “You NEED me? Then why can’t you do this!?”

“What!?” I cried out, nearly in physical pain from the emotion. “Yes, I need you! I love you! You are the father of my child! I need you! Why are you leaving me!? Over a joke!?” I was angry now, ripping the towel from him and throwing it on the ground. I eyed the linen closet, intent on getting myself a different towel.

“It’s not a joke!” He shouted back. I flinched away from his anger, startled and covered my chest with my hands and arms. His face softened and bent to pick up the towel, whispering with a shake of his head “It’s not a joke. It hurts.”

“So why didn’t you tell me? Instead you’re just going to break up with me? You’re going to leave me… you’re going to leave her!?” My hand went protectively to my stomach, forgoing my modesty.

“I’m not breaking up with you!” His face broke into a million emotions. “Why would you think that!? I promised you I’m not going anywhere! WHY would you think I’m breaking up with you?”

“You’re not… you’re… not?” I gasped for air. “I… you’re NOT!?”

“I’m not…” he stepped towards me cautiously and when I didn’t move away, he wrapped the towel around my shoulders.

“You’re not,” I shivered into the towel, feeling my body ready to give way. “I don’t understand… you said this conversation… and… you… you went so cold!” My breath quickened again, my heart racing.

“I just meant about us… about where we are and where we’re going and… I didn’t want to pose it as I’m tired of being called the baby daddy, no matter how much that hurts… I wanted to just have a conversation about our relationship.”

“I didn’t know it was hurting you,” I nearly whispered, holding back tears. “I really didn’t know. I’m sorry, Chris. I’m so sorry.” I gave in as he pulled me to his chest, sobbing into his already soaked shirt. “I am so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, please. Please, don’t. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. I should have said something sooner. I realized that after I talked to my mom about it and…”

“You talked to your MOM about it!?” I cut him off.

“I talk to my mom about everything, honey… I… ” he trailed off, realizing his mistake.

“So, something that I was doing was hurting you… and I had NO idea… and instead of telling me that I’m hurting you… you tell your MOM that I’m hurting you!?” I was officially hysterical. Hormones be damned, I was angry and sad, furious and broken. Have I really failed him that much as a… a what? A girlfriend? A lover? A… baby mama? Damnit, that word really does hurt!

“I realize now how stupid that was… and I’m sorry.” He pulled me out to arm’s length and crouched to see eye to eye. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry this got so bad.”

“She must hate me now!” I whispered, leading into screeching “Oh my god, she must HATE me! Chris!!! I’ll never be able to look her in the eye again!” I threw my face into his chest again.

“She doesn’t hate you. I promise.” He rubbed circles on my back, shushing me. “She told me to talk to you about it, that I was making a bigger deal out of it that it really was.”

“Not if I was hurting you! I don’t ever want to hurt you!” I mumbled into his chest, then pushed off to stare him down. “Damnit Chris! Your FACE, when I said it in the shower! I thought that was it, that we were done!”

“We are not done,” he reassured me.

“But you can’t DO that! You can’t let things get that bad, without talking to me!”

“I won’t. Never again. I promise!” He cupped my face in his hands, caressing my cheek.

“This sucked,” I began to cry again. “Now we can’t ever talk about where we are, without it being tainted by this… this…” I motioned at the shower and let my hand fall back to my side, pressing my forehead to his chest.

“It really did suck,” he sighed the words out, cracking with emotion. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.” I couldn’t stop the tears.

“Can we try to talk though? Can you put some clothes on and stop distracting me with your naked body, so we can really talk about it?” I felt his impish smile against my head and couldn’t keep a straight face, even through the tears.

“You’re a brat!” I laughed, wiping my face.

“Your brat,” he grinned, drying his own eyes.

“Yes, my brat. Is that what you want me to call you?” I pressed my lips together, fighting a smile.

“Staaaaahp!” He threw his head back, his weight on his heels and came back with a true smile. “Come on, naked lady! I want clothes on you for this conversation.”

Chris led me by the hand, to my bedroom. There I found two loads of laundry washed, dried and folded neatly on the bed. The bed was made, with fresh tulips in a vase on the nightstand, coupled with a cup of tea.

“I assume that was still hot, before you jumped in the tub?” I teased, motioning towards the clearly room temperature mug.

“That is was,” he nodded and led me to the cushioned bench at the foot of my bed. With swift determination of someone that knew exactly where I kept everything, he set to bringing me clean panties, a bralette, tank top and leggings. “Socks too?”

“No, no socks. Thank you.” I smiled, unwrapped myself from the towel and waited, knowing he would not allow me to dress myself.

“No fight over who puts your clothes on?” He smiled down at me.

“No, no more fighting.” I lifted my arms and let him dress me. Each article of clothing was punctuated with a sad, slow, desperate for affection, please don’t ever leave me, deep kiss.

I smiled and fought back tears until I was clothed. When all was said and done, Chris asked if I wanted to lie down.

“No… I was told I have to attend to my emails before I took a nap,” I joked, poking him with an elbow.

“I’d like to talk first?” He smiled, his easy going nature back in full force. I nodded pointedly in agreement, blowing all of the air from my lungs to clear my head.

“You are everything to me and everything to this tiny girl,” I peeked down at his hand, already on my stomach. “I will call you… or not call you… anything you want. I don’t ever want to go through what just happened, ever again.”

“I think you took the words right out of my mouth,” he smiled. “But… before marriage and between dating… there is exclusivity, which usually means calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend…”

“Seriously? You think we’re not exclusive? I know I’m not seeing anyone else… and if you are, I swear to god, Chris…”

“I’m not!” He chuckled, moving his hand to gently cover my mouth. “I’d just like to call you my girlfriend and for you to call me your boyfriend, because I feel like that is the last step before being engaged.”

“I’m not ready to be engaged…” my eyes went wide at the thought and I grabbed at his hand.

“I know you’re not and that is fine. If you are not ready, then I am not ready.” He took my hands in his and squeezed. “I hope I know when you’re ready though… because I want to surprise you. I don’t want it to be a conversation that ends in a decision. Is that selfish?”

“Not at all,” my eyes squinted nearly shut with my smile. “I want to be surprised.”

“Ok… I think we are on the same page?” Those eyebrows, they danced with concern.

“So long as you don’t plan to ‘surprise’ me on Christmas or New Years,” I finger quoted the air and smiled.

“I do not. I promise. No major holiday proposals.” He kissed my knuckles and laid our hands together on my stomach. “And I promise that if something is hurting me or bothering me, I will talk to you about it first.”

“Unless it’s someone else bothering you,” I joked.

“Even if it’s someone else,” Chris smiled and shook his head. “It’s you that I should be going to for help. You are the number one woman in my life. My mom is my mom and I love that woman to death, but this… this is my forever and I need to treat it as such.”

“Don’t tell your mom that!” I giggled at my own joke.

“Ha… well… she knows. We’ve been betrothed since I was six, if you remember,” his smile went crooked as he cocked an eye at me.

“I love you,” I whispered, dropping my eyes to my hands.

“I love you,” he tipped my head up with his finger tips to kiss me gently. I smiled into his kiss at the groan of relief he emitted.

“No moaning!”

“That was a groan,” he insisted quickly, then slid his hand behind my neck to pull me in for a deeper kiss. My voice betrayed me and Chris chuckled. “That was a moan!”

“Do it again,” I quietly begged. And he did. Again and again, each kiss more feverish than the other.

“Why did I even get you dressed!?” he mumbled against my mouth, fumbling with my tank top in an effort to pull it over my head.

“Because I was distracting you with my naked body!” I slid my hands under his shirt, eliciting a true moan from the man before me.

“Distract me again,” he begged. So I did, first removing his grey thermal shirt, then assisting with my own shirt. His eyes went wide at the sight of my chest, nearly bare to him in the lace bralette. “I swear they grow by the second.”

“And get more sensitive,” I pouted.

Chris’ face feigned surprised innocence as he sat back on his heels, drawing a hand to trace the edge of my bra. His eyes met mine in question and I whimpered in response. I knew what he wanted to do. I wanted it too, more than I could describe, but feared for the possible pain.

I was not prepared for the searing pleasure as Chris pulled the fabric aside and took my breast into his mouth. With my gasp as an answer to his unasked question, he continued with fervor. As his right hand cupped my breast, his free hand was left to explore and explore he did, until neither of us could take the wait any longer. Our clothes were nearly ripped apart in the sudden fever of desire. We tangled to the floor, our bodies a writhing heap of passion. I cried out with each climax of pleasure rolling into the next, lost in a daze of lust until Chris met his end, roaring out his euphoria like I had never heard him before.

There we laid, panting and gasping for air, on the floor beside my bed. “Was that make up sex?” Chris mumbled, tucking a tendril of hair behind my hear.

“I think so,” I huffed, still regaining my breath.

“You ok?”

“Yep, just… I had no idea an orgasm included uterine cramps until my uterus got so dang big!” I shifted my weight, away from Chris, turning to my back.

“Cramps? Not like, contractions, right?” He was up on his elbow, peering down in concern.

“No… not real ones I don’t think. They’re just… tight. Really tight.”

“But no pain…” his hand went to my belly, sending those eyebrows up in Surprise. “Wow, that’s… that’s firm.”

“Right?” I laughed away the discomfort. “But no, no pain.”

“Good.” He pecked a kiss to my forehead. “We don’t have time for a hospital visit today.”

“Uh… ok. I didn’t really want to go anyway?”

“Liz should be here any minute… unless she’s already here…” He trailed off, sneaking a look over the bed, out the window, to the back yard.

“What!?” I yelped, struggling with my attempt to leap up into action.

“Slow down lady, you’ll hurt yourself,” he grunted as he got himself upright. “C’mon,” he rolled his extended hand towards me. “I doubt she heard us anyway.”

Our clothes were collected, mine being put back on after a trip to the toilet, and Chris’ hung over the shower curtain rod to dry. All the while, my eyes were leveled at him in judgement.

“What?” He chuckled, avoid my glare by carefully selecting a clean shirt from the dresser.

“You knew. You brat.”

“Maybe I did,” he pulled a black t-shirt over his head and grinned when his face reappeared.

“You DID!”

“I did,” he giggled to himself, slipping on a pair of khaki colored jeans. With his zipper and button in place, he strode over and held my face in his hands. “Are you mad?”

“No…” I smirked. “It’s fine, it wouldn’t be the first time she heard me with someone.”

“What!?” Shock streaked across his face. “Are you serious?”

“No, you crazy man! I just had to get you back!”

“Oh thank god,” he pulled me in for a hug. “Because you know there were NO men before me.”

“Of course not,” I giggled.

“Promise you’re not mad?”

“About Liz hearing us? No. But, let’s try to not ever do that again. Ok?” I spied Liz emerging from the studio, through the window.

“Ok,” he smiled with his cheek against my head before noticing Liz and promptly erupted into a fit of giggles.

[idontreallyknowwwwww]

UCONN Application Due at 5

‘’Have fun in Hell.’’ I looked at his lifeless body, slumped over the arm of the couch. His mouth was hanging open, and you could see the blue ring lining his lips from the detergent I had given him to drink. His eyes were glossed over, and his forehead was slick with sweat. I stared at him for a minute, amazed by my work, before I was launched back into reality. I have to get out of here. I left Raymond there, and exited through the back door. My heart was racing. I had to get home before I had an anxiety attack and gave myself away to the old lady tending to her garden next door. 

I thought about it on the drive home. Can you justify murder if it’s for the right reason? He said he was going to kill me. Raymond said that if he didn’t kill me, something else would, so I should be thanking him for the favor. How fucked up is that? Well, look at how the tables had turned. I hadn’t been planning on killing him, but I just couldn’t stop myself. But who did I think I was fooling? Not myself, that’s for sure. And not the cops either. I had no proof that he had planned to kill me. No threatening text messages, no stalkerish behavior. But it would be fine, there was nothing to worry about. I had left no traces that it had been me. I had worn gloves, and I had made sure that he was dead before I left. So I should be fine. I should be jumping for joy, I had saved myself! That boy deserved to die. Why even bother going to his funeral? Actually, I should go to his funeral. He was my boyfriend. I had to at least pretend that I was sad about his untimely death. So I’ll go to the funeral, cry a few tears, and nobody will suspect a thing. 

‘’Hi Mrs. Riker. This is Sarah. How are you?’’ It’s been a few days since the murder, and it’s been all over the news. Every hour of the day, Raymond’s face swarmed the tv screen. Gave me a headache. When will everybody get over him? He wasn’t even that big of a deal anyway. There’s been this boiling feeling in my stomach for the last few days. I don’t know what it is exactly. It’s not sadness. Definitely not. I would almost call it fear. But not of getting caught. I’m not sure what it is I’m afraid of, but this growing knot keeps on twisting itself tighter and tighter inside of me. And to make matters even worse, Raymond’s mother decided to call. ‘’I just cannot believe that someone would do this. Absolutely terrible. He was a beautiful boy, I know. And we all loved him so much. Saturday at one? Ok. No, I don’t want to make a speech. I get really nervous in front of big crowds. Yeah, Raymond would understand. Alright, well, I’ll see you in a few days then. Bye.’’ 

Saturday at one. That was when Raymond said that he was going to take me bowling for our one year anniversary. Well not anymore. I’d be taking him to his funeral instead. Hope he’s bowling with the devil, like he deserves. 

So it’s Saturday now. I’m all ready for this bullshit funeral. This guy doesn’t deserve a funeral. He threatened to kill me! Nobody who threatens to end someone’s life should get a funeral. Whatever. I’ll go, weep a little, and then we can all move on with our lives. Nobody will ever think of Raymond Riker again. The bubble of panic in my stomach hasn’t gone away. I still don’t know what I’m afraid of. It’s been a week now, and I haven’t been caught. And it’s not like the police are going to come to the funeral and see me there. Raymond’s case will remain unsolved, and the police will have moved on to other cases by now. 

‘’Let us all remember what a wonderful boy Raymond Riker was. He was a kind, compassionate soul, and we all will remember him dearly.’’ Raymond was lowered into the ground. His mom was crying, and it made me sad to see her that way. She had been nothing but kind to me. Oh well. I can’t let my guard down for some woman who didn’t even know her son was a killer. The snow crunched beneath everyone’s feet as they slowly began to leave the burial sight. After a while, it was only me, Raymond’s parents, and some old lady. I took one last look at the people left, and then turned to leave. I walked back to my car in silence. It’s all done now. It’s official. He’s dead. He’s buried. His existence had ceased to exist.

  I sat in my car with my hands on the steering wheel. I had to get home. My application to UCONN was due at five this afternoon, and I hadn’t finished it yet. I reached to buckle my seatbelt, when someone knocked on the window. A young police officer was standing outside. He was short and stocky, and had a baby face with curly blond hair. His name tag said Officer Rodney. I rolled down my window. ‘’Ma’am, I need you to step outside your vehicle.’’ His voice shook a little bit. I stepped out of the car, trying to keep a straight face. ‘’ Can you tell me your name?’’ I shut the car door. ‘’Sarah Jay.’’ I clasped my hands behind my back. ‘’I need you to come down to the station with me. You’ve been deemed as a suspect in the murder of Raymond J. Riker.’’ Suspect? How? ‘’I’m not sure I understand.’’ I was swaying from side to side. The officer was probably taking note of that. I stopped. ‘’We have some questions for you. And a witness said that they saw you at the scene of the crime. Please step into my car.’’ What was I going to do now? I couldn’t run. Even though there’s no way this guy could catch me, he had a gun. He could shoot me. And if I run, they’ll know it was me. I gingerly slid into the backseat of his police car. All I had to do was deny everything. I just had to play the distraught girlfriend who loved her boyfriend. I could come up with the whole script right now, on the way to the station. I could say I saw myself spending the rest of my life with Raymond, how I envisioned walking down the aisle towards him on our wedding day. But who was I kidding. They wouldn’t believe that. And what about this supposed witness? How do the police know they aren’t lying? God, this was all a mess. This wasn’t going to plan, and now I had to do damage control on a situation that I put myself in. 

The station was grimy. The smells of sweat and coffee intertwined inside my nostrils and suffocated me. My converse sneakers squealed against the linoleum floor, making me acutely aware of how loud my footsteps were. The officer brought me into a room with no windows. There was one door, and it was the one we came in. Inside the room was a different officer, this one with a crew cut and fair skin. He was taller than the other officer, and older too. His name tag said Officer Donald. I sat down in the chair across from him. I looked him dead in the eyes. My clasped hands were only about two inches away from his. If I extended one finger, I could probably touch one of his veiny knuckles. 

‘’Did you know Raymond Riker?’’ His voice was deep. I decided to fixate in on his lips, instead of staring into his deep brown eyes. ‘’Yes.’’ I paused. ‘’He was my boyfriend.’’ The officer had the beginning of a moustache growing along his upper lip. ‘’And how long had you been dating?’’ His lips tended to lean over to the left side when he spoke. ‘’It would’ve been our one year anniversary today.’’ I kept a monotone voice. ‘’Tell me a little bit about your relationship. Did he ever take you out on dates? Did you ever invite him over to meet your parents?’’ His two middle teeth on the bottom slightly overlapped each other. ‘’He would take me to the movies sometimes. Sometimes we would watch movies at his house. We both really liked to watch movies.’’ My heart rate was slowing down. I could do this. Just tell the truth. ‘’And what is your favorite movie?’’ I looked up at his eyes. Was this some kind of trick? Why did this matter in the investigation? ‘’My favorite movie is Heathers.’’ I looked back down at his mouth. His gaze was too intense for me. ‘’Explain to me the plot of Heathers.’’ There was a scar on the left side of his chin. A very small scar that was in a half moon shape. ‘’It’s about a girl who starts dating a phsycopath, and they murder the most popular people in the school. Why?’’ I looked back up at his eyes. They had narrowed slightly. 

‘’Do you know why you’re here?’’ He blinked. I blinked back. ‘’Because you think I killed Raymond.’’ I blinked again. And again. My eyes were drying up. ‘’And supposedly, someone saw me at the scene of the crime which is impossible.’’ This guy was good at his job. But I was better. I had to stay one step ahead of him. ‘’Yes. And do you want to know something that I found interesting?’’ He tilted his head slightly. ‘’I talked to Raymond’s mom, and she said that she has no idea who you are.’’ 

That caught me off guard. ‘’But I just talked to her on the phone the other day. I’ve been to her house for dinner. She made a platter of cookies for me around Christmas time.’’ I was rambling. I was sweating. I was blinking really fast. I was doing all the things that I had told myself not to do. I had to stop. I could regain control of the situation if I wanted to. ‘’Mrs. Riker told me that she received a phone call from you a few days before the funeral. She said that she thought she didn’t know who she was talking to, and assumed it was one of Raymond’s friends.’’ My bangs were sticking to my sweaty forehead. I unclenched my hands, and the officer looked down when I did. He had definitely noticed. ‘’Mrs. Riker said that she looked through all of Raymond’s contacts, and all his friends were male. Which makes no sense, because she had talked to a female named Sarah on the phone.’’ He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. They were hairy, and he had a tattoo peeking out from under his short sleeve on his right bicep. 

‘’How does this link me to the murder? How does this make me a suspect?’’ I had to stop sounding so defensive. ‘’How do you know that she wasn’t just making things up? Obviously, her mental health would have to have suffered from the death of her son.’’ I leaned back in my chair also. I folded my arms. The officer eyed me. ‘’We traced the phone call back to your house.’’ We sat in silence. I didn’t know what to say. Mrs. Riker was lying. She knew who I was. I had been dating her son for the last year. 

‘’Raymond’s mother also said that he had never had a girlfriend, at least that she knew of.’’ The officer furrowed his eyebrows. ‘’Well maybe he just never told her about me. I was under the impression that he had told his parents about us, but maybe I was wrong.’’ My foot was tapping on the tile floor. It echoed through the empty room. The officer leaned forward. ‘’Didn’t you just say that you had been to her house multiple times for dinner, and she even made you cookies last Christmas?’’

Shit. This was making no sense. ‘’She knows who I am, ok? I don’t know what you want me to say.’’ I had raised my voice a little bit, and I was breathing heavily. The officer leaned even closer. ‘’Tell me, Stephanie, do you ever pretend to be someone you’re not?’’ What kind of question was that? ‘’No. Why would I do that?’’ My eyes scanned the room. There was nothing to see except white walls and the tile floor. ‘’My fellow officer Rodney, the one who brought you here, said that you told him your name was Sarah Jay.’’ He paused. ‘’But on your birth certificate, and driver’s licence, it says Stephanie Jones.’’ 

I stared at him. ‘’I’ve been doing some research on you for the last few days, Stephanie. It says here in my notes that you were admitted into Adam River’s Institute for the Mentally Disabled on July 29th of last year. You were held there for showing serious signs of Dissociative Identity Disorder, and you were violent at times. Does any of this ring a bell?’’ I felt like I was going to be sick. The knot in my stomach was tighter than ever, and it felt like it was squeezing me so hard I could hardly breathe. ‘’I got better. I was never going to have to go back there ever again because I was better when I left.’’ I was hyperventilating. How dare he bring this up to me? ‘’Well it doesn’t seem like you did get better, Stephanie, considering you are still struggling with more than one personality.’’ I glowered at him. I was pissed. ‘’Who told you they saw me? Who was it?’’ I was practically yelling now. Donald didn’t even flinch. ‘’Raymond’s next door neighbor, Mrs. Willowbey. She was in her garden when she saw you leave the house with black gloves and a bottle of Tide detergent in your hand, which is what was used to kill Raymond.’’ 

Tears were streaming down my face. The officer probably thought I was crying because he had figured it out. But no. I didn’t care that he had figured it out. ‘’How dare you call me Stephanie. My name is Sarah Jay!’’ I stood up. ‘’And yes, I fucking killed Raymond Riker! I gave him a cup of Tide detergent, because he said that he was going to kill me! I was in danger! I had every right to kill him!’’ Officer Donald stood up and backed away from me. He picked up his walkie talkie and called for backup. We stood there staring at each other for a second. I was out of control. The knot in my stomach had finally exploded, and everything that had been contained inside of it had come bursting out. Stephanie Jones had been what was trapped in that ball. And even though I had tried so hard to lock her away, she had somehow managed to claw her way back to the surface of my skin and inside the confines of my brain. She had maneuvered Sarah’s  hands to do the deed that Stephanie wanted, and my body, Sarah Jay’s body, had become a robot, programmed to do as Stephanie wished. And together, Sarah and Stephanie had killed an unsuspecting boy named Raymond Riker that Sarah had convinced herself she was in love with, even though she had never met him a day in her life. 

‘’I’m not going back to that place. I won’t. You can’t make me.’’ My whole body felt like it was being pricked with a thousand tiny little needles. I could hear my blood rushing in my ears. It sounded like a river. Like Adam River. Adam River’s Institute for the Mentally Disabled. The name was burning inside my brain. Like someone took a hot branding iron and pressed it into the soft pink flesh, and it was destroying all the tiny neurons and veins inside. Two pairs of burly arms wrapped around me. The feeling of cold metal around my wrists felt oddly relieving. I knew where I was going. I was going to jail. Stephanie was going to jail. And I finally felt some relief knowing that there was no way in hell that she was ever going to be let back out to control me again.

[slvtbible]

kissy and ice cream

your baby girl is about to get her ears pierced, and harry promises her lots of kisses and ice cream after

**

“Are you ready, princess?”

Harry looks at his dashing baby girl dressed in a mini red bodysuit with the word ‘styles’ embroidered on her left breast. Yes it’s a customed one that he made, giving him that cute smile that he adores so much. You’re busy brushing her tiny hairs, so that it doesn’t go waving around her forehead and block her vision.

the two of you decided that Elora is big enough to get her ears pierced. Harry of course was worried at first, fear that it might make his six months old baby cry and he hates seeing her like that. but you assure him that she’s going to be okay, telling him how you got your ears pierced at the same age as she is when you were a baby. and so he trusts you with that,

“you look so beautiful bunny!” he smiles widely at his baby, kissing both of her chubby cheeks then he looks over at you who’s still struggling to get her hair neat. “and look at you baby!” he whistles, looking at you up and down. “my girls are looking so beautiful today!”

as you smile, you look up to him. biting your bottom lip softly trying to not smile hard by his compliment. “Thank you, my love. You look amazing too.”

he gives you a hum, crouching down a bit so he’s the same level as his baby who’s playing with the moana toy Anne got her last Christmas. His cross tattooed hand moves slowly towards your thigh giving it a small squeeze causing you to lift up your eyebrow at him,

“What?”

“You ass! Don’t start something you can’t finish!” You warn him, slapping his hand off of you making him smile and his dimples more prominent,

with a dramatic gasp, he wiggles his finger in front of you, giving a rather playful disapproving look. “don’t swear in front of the baby, mummy”

as you put a pink bow on your baby girl’s eenie tiny bun you roll your eyes and lift Elora up to her feet. “she doesn’t even understand what that means yet”

still, harry shakes his head and makes a ‘tsk’ noise with his mouth a couple times. he stands up, lending you his hand for you to take to help you stand up before grabbing the baby under her armpits, bouncing her against his hip,

“bad mommy. i think you need to be punish later on.” with that he gives your ass a firm slap making you gasp because you didn’t see that coming at all,

“don’t you even dare slap my ass in front of our baby again” you warn, pointing a finger at him but not before you let out a small laugh then walks off to grab your purse from the kitchen.

he winks at you and blows you a kiss before grabbing the stroller from the living room, “you want to sit here baby? Or do you want daddy to carry you?”

your baby stares at him for good five seconds before blowing out a raspberry, leaving a slight drool down her chin which he quickly wipes it off,

“you read my mind baby. Let me carry you for a while yeah? Gonna ask mummy to push the stroller for you” he kisses his baby’s soft lips and hugs her closer,

when you walk out of the kitchen, fixing your hair up a bit he lets out another wolf-whistle causing you to turn your head around and smile shyly at him,

“look at mummy, baby! Doesn’t she looks so gorgeous? Your mummy is so so pretty huh” he says to his baby, though knowing that she probably doesn’t understand what the hell he is saying,

“stop that! Didn’t marry you just to be a sweet talker” you mumble, applying a bit of lipstick,

he scoffs, shaking his head. “that’s the point baby. Where else are you going to get a husband that hype you up like this?”

shrugging, you chuck the lipstick inside of your purse and give him a teasing smile. “time for a divorce and find out then”

his jaw drops and he takes two step closer to your figure and grabs you by the waist, carefully so that Elora won’t fall. He gives butterfly kisses all over your face making you squirm and giggle under his hold, trying to push him off so the makeup won’t get ruines

“Take that back, woman!” he says soon as he pulls away but still keeps a tight grip around you so you won’t go anywhere,

nodding your head, your giggle dies down slowly and looks up to him who gives you a cocky smile. “Okay, okay. I’ll take it back.”

he gives you one last kiss on your forehead and gives another one on Elora’s cheek before pulling away. “that’s better. Now, are my girls ready to go?”

//

“baby, look at this” he calls you, fingers gently grasping around the yellow dress that puffs beneath the hips. “doesn’t this look cute?”

you push the stroller carefully with sleeping Elora in it as you look over the material Harry is holding. “That’s really adorable. But she’s not big enough to wear this maybe when she’s a bit older”

harry pouts, giving you the big green puppy eyes as he continues to softly rub the dress in his hand. “oh no. my baby is growing way too fast. can’t have that. She’s going to stay this little forever”

with a small laugh you peck his pouty lips as the two of you continue to walk down the baby’s clothes aisle while waiting for the appointment to get Elora’s ears done,

“maybe we can have. . . Another one?” he innocently suggests, shrugging his shoulders as he looks at you,

he has this cheeky smile when you turn your head to meet his eyes and you shake your head lightly. “You just want the process of making it”

“Not true!”

“Liar!”

the two of you are having a playful banter when Elora suddenly wakes up. she’s fluttering her eyes open and you’re the first one who notices that’s she’s waking up,

“Oh! I’m sorry sweetie did we wake you up?” you coo at her, playfully pouting at your baby and reach your hands out to grab her, “are we being too loud? I’m sorry lovie, your dad was pestering me”

harry furrows his eyebrows, looking a bit offended as you say that. “Excuse me? Pestering you?”

“Kidding” you shoot him a reassuring smile an pick Elora up who’s already smiling and giggling as if she had not just woken up from a nap. “By the way H, we gotta go. Can you push the stroller for me, please ?”

“anything for you my love” he smiles, pecking your temple and grabs the handle of the stroller as you two strut your way out of the baby clothing aisle,

as the two of you arrive at the jewelry store—that is of course special for babies—harry immediately backtracks and worry is written all over his face,

“what’s wrong, Harry?” you notice he just stops in his tracks and cautiously looking around the place, loosening his grip around the handle

“i don’t think this is a good idea”

you roll your eyes, grabbing him by the shirt and drag him inside. “we’ve been over this, Harry. She’s gonna do just fine. yes, she might cry a little but it’s normal”

he puffs a small breath, looking at Elora who’s chewing her own chubby finger, having no idea what’s going on or what her parents might do to her later.

he thinks to himself that he’s gonna cry too.

“Mr & Mrs. Styles?” a woman in her late fourties greets the two of you with a small smile, extending her hand for you both to shake. “Hi, I’m Zoila. You booked the appointment two days ago, yes?”

you nod your head and mirror her smile, “yes i did. sorry if we’re a bit late”

“That’s alright. and is this the baby who’s gonna get her ears pierced today?” she asks sweetly looking at Elora with a soft smile. “she’s adorable”

“thank you. just out of the curiousity, how often do baby cry when they get their ears pierced for the first time?” harry jumps straight into the question, you can tell the idea of her baby crying has been bugging him,

“It’s always normal for baby to cry, but they often cry because of how loud the gun makes it’s noise not because of the pain. you don’t have to worry Mr. Styles. I can assure you that your baby is in good hands.”

he nods his head firmly, still a bit unsure because he knows for a fact that if anything goes wrong on his baby girl’s ears he would sue this fucking place,

“she better be” he responds, placing his hand on your back to walk over to the chair and let the woman prepares the equipment,

he sits down on the small sofa with his legs spread apart, the cross necklace he’s wearing hanging around his exposed neck due to the fact the buttoned up black shirt he’s wearing. and the way he’s bouncing his knees up and down and hands clasps together to rest them on his thighs makes you bite your lip, because he looks so sexy like that.

“you’re such a hot dad” you comment bluntly, pulling Elora’s chubby finger off her mouth, trying to get her to stop chewing on it,

he quickly looks up to you and smirks, gently resting his palm on your hip giving it a squeeze before pulling you close to him. “and you’re such a hot mumma, you know that? I’m such a lucky lad” then he moves his hand towards your ass giving it a squeeze,

gasping you quickly pull his hand off of you making him cackle. “H! Keep your naughty hand off of me for one second please!” despite the comment, you secretly love the way he gets touchy with you. he knows it too. the two of you love getting handsy and touchy in public, before or even after Elora was born. but now it’s not the time,

“you love it though” he winks, raising his arms up to carry his baby and have her sitting on his lap,

scoffing, you gently put your baby in his arms which he quickly wraps his hands around her tiny chunky figure. “you ready for this bub? Because dadda is not ready. Mumma is though. Just remember one thing bub, this is not my idea. it’s hers”

“stop being so dramatic, she’ll be fine. my baby is tough” you reply, grabbing a chair to sit across him, “unlike her dad. Whiny”

“I swear to Jesus you’re gonna get it after we get home” harry warns but you pay no mind, knowing it’ll make you both feel good anyway,

“Okay, are we ready?” Zoila asks standing on the side where Harry is sitting, “try to keep her still and nothing bad will happen”

Elora looks at you with wide eyes not knowing what it’s bound to happen and you can only smile softly at her, then she switches to Harry who’s holding a worry smile on his face as he keeps bouncing his knees a bit trying to keep her entertained,

“gonna be over soon, okay bubby?” he beams at the baby who smiles cutely and lets out a babble when she stares at her daddy. “Daddy’s got you. Now look forward”

Zoila grabs ahold of her chin and gently turns her around, Elora’s eyes immediately finds you again and she grins, clapping her hands cutely as she watches her beautiful mumma distracting her,

“It’s okay bebe! Look at mummy, yeah? Don’t you look so beautiful today!”

“Okay, here i go” Zoila starts, gently grabbing her soft lobe and pierce her ear right on the red dot.

the smile on Elora’s face is quickly turned into a small frown then in a matter of seconds she lets out a loud piercing cry as her eyes shuts. Harry immediately frowns and looks down at his baby, kissing the top of her head repeatedly,

“No, no bubby don’t cry! It’s okay, lovie. Don’t cry my baby Elora” he tries to get her to calm down but it’s not working, now he’s getting more concern.

“Okay, last one.” Zoila turns to the other ear and pierced it. Thankfully, Elora’s cry doesn’t gradually increase but that doesn’t mean she fully stops. She keeps on crying. “There you go. All done”

you lets out a little ‘yay’ and claps your hands at Elora. “You did it baby. You got your ears pierced now!” you try so hard to get her attention but she’s not stopping, harry tries really hard too but it’s not working either.

“it’s over now, baby. Don’t cry anymore, my love. It’s okay. It’s okay” he reassures his baby by giving her soft kisses all over her chubby cheeks,

you crouch down and grab her tiny hands kissing them as well, spoiling her with it. “it’s okay bebe, it’s over my love.”

soon Elora’s cries stops, her cheeks are stained with tears and eyes are a bit red at the moment but what matters is that she stops,

“how about we just go buy some ice cream and go home and watch some movies, yeah? Sounds good bub?” he asks her. In a response, she lets out another babble which he’s going to take it as a yes.

“okay then, let’s go mommy” he tells you, but not before giving your ass another spank when Zoila is not looking,

you glare at him but he only smiles cheekily at you. “don’t. you. dare”

**

I’m planning to make this dad!harry into a series. Kind of. Want to put more dad, elora, and y/n in it. Like backstory about how they first met, what y/n do for a living etc. Let me know if you’re interested:)!

[clown-bait]

Monster Family Ch10 (Monster Roommate Au)

Wow so its been like 2 months since Ive updated thats bad man. Heres this please dont riot. CH10 Pennywise, Banjo Enthusiast

Fuck this. Fuck Neibolt. Fuck Pennywise, and especially fuck pregnancy. Leech lay on her back trying her damndest to get comfortable. Which she was failing at since the only position she could lay in was reclining on her back. She felt like an oversized prisoner of her own home with her heavily pregnant abdomen. The vampire shifted then scooted then kicked and groaned. 

"PENNY!" She called but was met with the eerie silence of Neibolt house. "Pennywise?!" She called again but there was no presence of being watched or bumps in the dark. The sound of kids giggling and running by outside jogged her memory. Oh right he's out having his cheat day at the carnival. Leech moaned in defeat and frustration. It wasn't fair he got to go out and enjoy himself while she was forced to only partake in "light excursions only" screw Dr. West what did he know about supernatural pregnancy. She was a predator and she needed to hunt, not wait to be fed like a fat baby bird. She resigned to reaching for her phone sending a text to her friends only to get back pictures of them also at the carnival also enjoying themselves. Freddy and Chucky held a decapitated woman's head in one picture like they had just won it at ring toss accompanied by the caption "Sucks to be you!" Leech growled and threw her phone to the edge of the bed in frustration only to realize that now she can no longer reach it. Great. Too big to move, too big to sleep, too big to kill. She couldn’t even fuck her mate anymore because he was too rough with her. Tears stung her eyes and her throat grew heavy. Was it stupid to cry over this? Probably. Did she care? Not at all. 

Leech stayed in her bed and cried alone for what felt like hours. She didn't even realize how long she had been throwing this tantrum till she looked up seeing a pair of wide confused yellow eyes in the dark. She sat herself up and wiped her face embarrassed that he found her like this. Her mate stepped into the light a teen caught in his fangs like a cat with a dying mouse. The eldritch cocked his head to the side in confusion then dropped the half-alive body in his jaws pressing on him with a heavy boot to keep him down. he leaned into his mate who shut her eyes and swallowed hard as he pressed his nose into her bald head inhaling and exhaling her emotions In big warm puffs. Gingerly, he attempted to lick her only to be pushed away causing him to try again. 

They didn't speak or argue with words this time, his attempts to comfort being met with angry frustrated hisses and grunts. Pennywise finally caught her cheek and gently but firmly held her in place as he kissed his mate. His lips drew back with a soft wet sound making a growly churr at her moving his thumb slowly over her cheek. He touched her like she was made of tissue, holding back the claws and violence for her. Only ever for her. Leech finally broke letting out a whine as she returned his gestures kissing his soft lips as if she had been starving for them. An action that did not go unnoticed. 

"So needy today." The eldritch mumbled and gently pushed her back. He couldn't get carried away with her right now, she was still in a fragile state and he knew she couldn't take him no matter how bad they both wanted it. 

"Pen please." She whined and pulled him back "Please you know I need this." 

The clown shook his head, bells tinkling along as he did. "Feed." He said finally turning his attention to the teen under his boot. His prey was limp and taking shallow dying breaths as the clown pressed into his back. The eldritch picked his prey up and held him still, pulling his neck back for his mate exposing the jugular vein.

He guided Leech up despite still being a mess of hormones and almost commanded her with his expression to eat. She knew that this was a very big gesture for him and when the eater of worlds generously shares his kill, you accept. As she felt skin break under her fangs the clown held his catch still till he was sure it was safe to let go and settle next to her, patiently waiting for her to finish while warily watching just in case. Leech tore at flesh with her teeth till the head separated and tumbled to the floor then the right arm which her mate picked up and ate like a turkey leg. Her leftovers fell to the ground with a heavy thud when she finished, and her flesh-eating clown seemed satisfied she was nourished. His hands carefully grabbed her wrist and he began to clean her gently sucking each finger till the red was gone.

 "Pen-" Leech began in a small whimper but found her mate pushing her own back till she was laying down again her eldritch horror trapping her in place with his massive form. "Shhh needy thing. You are unwell, let Pennywise care for you darling." 

"I feel fine Pen, I'm not sick."

"No. Not in here" his hands moved over her bump and came back to rest on her temples. "In here silly. Such nasty thoughts and sour fear. No good for eating my love." He said in that sing-song voice he used to lure prey. 

"You wouldn’t eat me." She taunted him a little with an exhausted smile. 

"Mmm wrong, wrong, wrong again needy thing! I’m always hungry for you!" He chirped and nipped at her cheeks till he reached her lips growling deep as he kissed them. "Mmm too many bad thoughts in that pretty head, Pennywise can see them all." He mumbled "No missing out, no feeling bloated, here to make it better sweet thing. Promise promise." He pulled her on top of him before she could react, his warm body feeling like a security blanket protecting her from every bad feeling in her head. After a moment of holding her, his large hands rubbed her shoulders firmly massaging any places of soreness he could sense while he hummed under his breath. She knew he was humming something, she could feel a melody in his vibrations part of her wished she could hear it.  

"Its a rhyme." He answered before the question even finished forming in Leech's head. 

"H-how does it go?" She knew he didn't like questions but hearing the boogeyman of Derry sing wasn't something Leech was just going to pass upon. 

"Are you requesting a private performance sweet thing?" He purred a hint of excitement slipped through his voice.

"It would cheer me up. " the young vampire smiled and felt his warmth vanish from behind her. He was suddenly at the foot of her bed holding a banjo beaming with pride. 

"Is that a fucking banjo?" Leech sat up crossing her legs "you play banjo?"

"I have quite a few." Her clown said matter of factly as he sat to tune.

"You're a banjo enthusiast?!"

"I am allowed to have hobbies Peachy." 

"Look I knew about the circus accordion but banjos?"

"I could just leave you know, could be off enjoying other things."

"Ok ok I'll shut up…..holy fuck a banjo…." Leech muttered to herself and heard a rattly growling sigh. His long fingers caressed the neck of the instrument finding his fingering before giving it a test strum. He then gently ran his fingers over his babies tapping his mates stomach softly to wake them. "You will enjoy this my little ones" he purred and began to sing in that warbled clownish way he spoke. His long fingers plucked at the strings of the instrument with care and precision.

Oranges and lemons,

Say the bells of St. Clement’s.

You owe me five farthings,

Say the bells of St. Martin’s.

His voice sounded like an unhinged Winnie the Pooh. Leech found it adorable her eyes trained on his fingers as they strummed the instrument. She didn't even notice her insides were glowing like a Christmas tree but still absentmindedly put her hand over the globe of her stomach feeling its odd warmth against her fingertips.

When will you pay me?

Say the bells of Old Bailey.

When I grow rich,

Say the bells of Shoreditch.

When will that be?

Say the bells of Stepney.

As he sang Pennywise grew more and more intense his voice began to distort and his smile grew terrifyingly wide. Leech could hear the ghosts of dead children join him then the rhyme grew faster and pennywise had discarded the instrument to sing directly at their offspring which flashed intensely under her skin. 

I do not know,

Says the great bell of Bow.

Here comes a candle to light you to bed,

And here comes a chopper to chop off your head!

The clown snapped his gnarled jaws shut like a steel trap at the end and the disembodied voices squealed with laughter. Pennywise cackled wildly flopping back onto the bed in a fit of giggles. As he calmed he squirmed his head into his mates lap joining his hand with her’s over the infant deadlights which thrummed happily from their parents’ presence. 

"That was the most fucked up and oddly sweetest version of Bitch Better Have My Money I've ever heard."

Pennywise purred eyes drifting apart and buck teeth poking out from his grinning lips. Anyone else would have said he looked like a freak but leech loved this face. Her beloved vicious monster looked so dorky when he was happy. 

"Will you take me somewhere tonight? I promise I'll sit the entire time."

The eldritch's smile faded and for a moment it pained the young vampire's heart to see it turn serious. 

"I wanna hear more music and... I think they do too" 

"You're playing dirty." The clown growled. Leech awkwardly pushed herself up using pennywise to cling to. She hugged him instead of letting go flashing that pleading look letting her front fangs just barely poke out from her parted lips that were still wet from his kisses. "Please Pennywise?" 

"Pity does not work on me, dear." He snarled and stood to leave. 

"I'll eat your clussy if you sneak me out."

The primordial God stopped. 

"And we have a winner." Leech purred.

"I didn't say yes."

"You were going to."

"Well now I'm not."

"You're a mind reader you know I was going to throw in a surprise rim job." 

"............where am I taking you?"

"AND WE HAVE A WINNER!"

___________________________

"I like your hair like this." 

Robert gray blinked to attention at the comment. 

"It’s cute when it curls a bit." Leech beamed at him as he sat down at their table. 

"Cute." He spat and scrunched his face with annoyance. 

"Deny it all you want ruffles you can’t change my mind. You're cute and I'm into it." 

"Gross" came Freddy's voice as he approached invited himself to sit Dracula trailed behind looking slightly out of place in his antique clothes. 

"Shouldn't you be resting fledgling?"

"Oh come on Drac, I'm a full vampire now I go to the fucking meetings and everything." Leech huffed and rolled her eyes at the insult. 

"Yet you make mistakes that will quickly lead to your early demise. If it weren't for our help you would have never survived your first year."

The younger vampire bared her fangs at her elder "Whatever dad."

"Your ego is rubbing off on her." Dracula grumbled in the direction of an unamused Robert.

"Can you blame him? His everything has rubbed on her at least once." Freddy snorted stuffing his mouth with pretzels.

"Was that even necessary?" The eldritch made a face at the dream demon who was getting crumbs all over. Leech brushed some off her shoulder and scooted closer to her mate.

"Hey assholes I came here to listen to live music, not a catty bitch fest." the younger vampire hissed and flicked a pretzel at her companion.

"Sheesh the pregnant brain has turned you into more of a bitch than before." Freddy grunted and flicked the pretzel back

Leech turned to her mate "Pen kill Freddy for me."

"Again?"

"Make it hurt." She snarled.

"Enough!" Dracula nearly shouted drawing looks from the denizens of the town. "We are in a human establishment you can tear each other apart later!"

"Don't tell me what to do daad!"

Freddy rolled his eyes. "Fangs stop dragging your daddy issues into things" 

"I do not have daddy issues." Leech hissed.

Robert finally let free a smirk "You do."

"Wow, I called you daddy in bed one time." 

"She calls you daddy?" Freddy perked up. 

"I'm not addressing this." Robert waved him away staring at the empty stage.

"Sure thing Daddywise." Freddy snorted and Robert almost turned green at the name.

"No." He snarled through gritted fangs.

"Shh oh my god shut up boys my friend is up next!" Leech hissed covering Robert’s mouth who seemed a bit taken aback at the gesture. A year ago he would have bitten off her hand. He really has gotten soft. 

The eldritch grumbled settling back into a more comfortable position to watch the human. The song he sang was about hell hounds and blood on one’s name. Something about the devil. Typical blues music. 

"So this guy definitely knows Phill."

"Wow couldn't even wait for the song to end Fred?" Leech glared at the demon 

"Wow couldn’t even bother to read into things a little bit Fangs?" Freddy huffed "you'd have thought you'd get less green as time went on. In this business, a mysterious guy singing about the devil means one of two things. He's made a deal with him or he's a demon himself. "

"Hey, so one fuck you Krueger." Leech hissed "and two why is it important that he's got dealings with Phil? We all have connections to Phil. Hell even I owe the guy a favor...which he hasn't stopped texting me about..."

"You owe Lucifer a debt?" Dracula's eyes went wide under his glasses. "And the two of you allowed this?" 

"What we've all made a bad decision before, let the kid learn." Freddy laughed and knocked back a drink

Dracula turned to Robert who shot back a look of confusion. 

"Pen was drunk at the time Drac, besides I'm a big girl I can handle running an errand for Satan." 

"That man up there sings of oblivion. This is a death you cannot escape from."

The scent of fear wafted up against Robert's nose as he watched the man on stage finally realizing just who this "friend" really was.

"S-So I'll do what he asks it's no big deal." Leech stuttered and pouted like a child being reprimanded as Dracula continued.

"Do you even know what kind of debt you will be paying?!"

Robert could care less about the lecture his mate was receiving from her mentor. Shed complain to him about it later no doubt. He was more interested in the crowd around them. He sensed agitation from the townspeople some of them murmured words along the lines of "the devil's music" as Duke Rivers continued to play. He knew his town he knew what was coming and a debt would be paid tonight. 

"Alright alright fine I'll text Phil back holy fuck." Leech hissed and half-heartedly tapped at her phone.

As Duke took his bow a group of men stood up off to the side watching him make his way to the bar. 

"Alright, he got back to me…." Leech huffed and slumped against her eldritch who watched the men follow. "The fuck?" The vampire said as the group of men got closer. 

"This can’t be right I don’t even fucking know who or where this guy is." Leech whined and slid her phone onto the table.

"What he got you collecting someone for him?" Freddy chimed in now interested.

"Yeah, he wants me to bring him my father? I never even met the guy!"

The men led Duke outside.

"Darling." Robert finally said quietly. 

"Wait you think he means? No. No way Phil's got the wrong guy."

"I'll return in a moment."Robert sighed and the vampire abruptly fell back as her mate stood and vanishes into the crowd. 

"The fuck Penny?" Leech couldn't finish what she said there was a shout from outside and the telltale smack of a fist against flesh. Leech stared out the door in horror as the Duke headbutted his attacker in the face. The rest of the bar seemed eerily unaware of the fight. There was a scream and the sound of a body being dragged before the door slammed shut. 

Leech felt a lump in her throat "…d....daddy?"

Freddy pointed at her and laughed "HA I KNEW IT!"

[albionscastle]

We’ll Meet Again - Chapter 12

It’s been a long time coming I know, but I’m feeling Collins again even though I’m working 60+ hours a week (soooooo tired).

For this chapter we have a reunion between husband and wife, a new friend made and a cute moment.

There are mentions of Holocaust themes such as camps and ghettos as well as missing families and the idea of impending extermination.

The book she is reading is The Time Machine by H. G. Wells.

MASTERLIST

WE’LL MEET AGAIN 12

HOW DEEP IS THE OCEAN?

Christmas came and went, spent in a bomb shelter even though the bombs didn’t fall that day by some miracle. Jack was able to spend a few hours with you at the boarding house before returning to duty, all puffed up and chuffed at his impending fatherhood. You couldn’t have loved him more than in the moment you told him you were pregnant and his face had lit up. You’d been afraid to tell him, deep down you had thought he would run, he wouldn’t be the first. London was rife with young women, expecting, waiting for a lover who wasn’t coming back. Not every young soldier was a good man.

But yours was.

There were more letters than usual, often several arriving at once due to the mail delays. As the new year began and the conflict was no closer to finishing almost every one of Jack’s letters were imploring you to leave the city and go to his parents. You were tempted, London wasn’t safe you knew it, but it was close to Jack and you felt as though you couldn’t just leave the other girls. In the end you agreed to wait until the baby came and then you would go to Scotland. What little time you could spend with him until then you would make the most of, knowing that it could be some time before he got enough leave to go North.

There was no end in sight to the war, it was 1941, the second full year of conflict and it seemed like there was a new casualty list daily, the list of names endless. You remembered the talk about the Great War, how whole villages had their men wiped out and you could suddenly see how that had been possible. But even the old timers were spooked by this one, the rumors and stories coming out of Germany and Poland were terrifying. The last conflict had been war, this was something more, something else, something sinister and evil.

You sat on the corner eating your lunch after working for the Red Cross all morning. Another bombing, more injured, more dead. While not immune to the sight of it you were at least acclimated enough that you didn’t cry or vomit each time you carried off someone’s mangled body. Although you wanted to. There was a pile of rubble in the middle of the street, a group of young children who hadn’t been evacuated yet were playing on it while some older folk watched. It still amazed you how there were still pockets of hope and laughter in the city, normality in the face of so much destruction and death.

“This seat taken?”

You looked up into the face of an elderly man, one of the Jews who populated the East Side. His black jacket was worn in places and very old fashioned, but his smile was wide and his eyes kindly. You gestured for him to join you, offering him half your sandwich with a smile.

“Nice to see em playing about.” he remarked, declining the food politely.

“We see a pile of bricks, they see a castle.” you laughed softly. “You have to love the imaginations of children.”

“And the hope of them.”

For a moment you sat in silence, watching them, your mind wandering to your own child. In your thoughts you saw a blonde head of hair ducking in and out of the rubble, heard a higher pitched version of Jack’s laughter. The fact that you could picture your child in this place, in this condition terrified you. Would the war even be over by the time they were old enough to run around with other kids? Would there even be children left in London after all was said and done? So many had been evacuated into the countryside, their parents many times sadly victims that you and the others pulled out of the wreckage. You wondered if their children even knew they were dead. It broke your heart to think of it.

“They take the children in Germany too, don’t they?” you whispered, almost not wanting to hear the answer.

The old man nodded sadly, never taking his eyes off the kids in the street.

“My family is in Poland, the last I heard they were all rounded up and put into ghettos. It didn’t matter if they were babes or 100 years old. Jews are illegal to the Nazis.” he spat the last word in loathing.

“You’ve not heard anything since?”

“Not since November, no. I don’t expect to. I fear it will only get worse. Today its ghettos, yesterday it was encouraged emigration. My son thought it would pass, so they stayed. I am only here because I married an Englishwoman after my Sarah passed. We had talked about going to Poland before all this started.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to upset you. It’s just the rumors coming from over there…” you trailed off.

“Are all true, I’m afraid. We should talk about it, we all should so that the world knows what is happening to us. They have started putting us in camps, they call them work camps but I fear…” he swallowed hard. “What is left to do with people who are, in their words, not people but animals?”

The answer was left unspoken, the reality of what could happen to these people was too horrible to even contemplate. Others had talked about it, you had overheard some soldiers talking about how the Nazis were gearing up to “put them down”. Like animals. They had laughed, like it wasn’t anything big to think of but the idea had stuck in your head. These were people, human beings that were being treated like animals, worse than animals, because Hitler deemed them to be “illegal”. You couldn’t comprehend the kind of mindset it took to consider humans that way. And you also wondered what the rest of the world was going to do about it.

“I think it’s going to get a lot worse before it gets better.” You admitted sadly, not knowing what else to say.

“I fought in the last war, 37 years old and I was straight off to enlist, we fought for the Russians back then. Thought we were on a grand quest to make the world a better place. Took two bullets over four years and watched seven of my friends from home die in the trenches. I always believed we were doing it because we had to, because when we were done the world would see and not make the same mistakes again.”

“The war to end all wars.” you murmured.  “My dad went on his 17th birthday, lied about his age to enlist. He and my mother were sweethearts since childhood. She said he was never the same.”

“No one came back the same, and no one will this time. Even you, you are changed by what you are experiencing here. You have lost people, yes?”

“Margot, she was my friend. A bomb landed right on her in the middle of the day, I saw the whole thing. And she had lost her fiance in France.”

“And your husband?” He looked at the ring on your finger. “Where is he?”

“He’s RAF, a fighter pilot. He was at Dunkirk.”

“This kind of evil, it touches everything, leaves nothing unstained. Your man, he kills and he does it because he has to. You try to save, because you have to but you would kill, for the same reason, yes?”

“Yes.”

“And I killed, many young men, many mother’s sons, because I had to and I never can forget it. I ask for forgiveness every day of my life. I was never a violent man, I am a botanist, but if you put a man in a German uniform in front of me now and gave me a gun, I would kill him. I wouldn’t hesitate. I wouldn’t ask for forgiveness. That is how it has changed me, this time.”

“I don’t think many would fault you for that, considering.”

“Except those many people the world over who also agree that Jews are not humans. The world sits and waits, watching to see what will happen, trust me they will not intervene until what happens to us affects their interests.”

“Even if they start killing?”

“Start? Young lady they have already begun killing us, for years they have. All that is happening now is that they are speeding up the process.”

Tears welled in your eyes at the thought of it. In the grand scheme of things you had it easy. This man’s whole family’s fate was unknown, a whole race of people were being imprisoned for their blood and for no other reason. Children too, locked in ghettos and cages, their whole lives stolen from them.

For what? What was it all for?

“I’m so sorry.”

“It is not your fault.”

His lined hand patted yours, squeezing your fingers.

“I had meant to simply say hello and sit for a minute, I did not mean to upset you.”

“Please,” you implored, wiping your eyes. “Don’t say that, you are entitled to be angry. I’m glad you sat down, no one else talks about it. Everyone wants to pretend it isn’t happening, that nothing exists outside this island. I don’t want to be that person.”

“What is your name?”

You told him your name, told him Jack’s and for a while you told him the story of how you met and fell in love. He laughed at stories from the boarding house, especially your landlady’s ability to turn any moment into a party. He told you in turn of his Sarah, their only son Samuel and his wife Elsa and their children. Samuel was or at least had been an attorney and the cantor at their temple, he was a good, kind man according to his father, but naive in his belief of the inherent goodness of man. It was something they had debated many times. It was that belief that had led him to stay in Poland long after they should have tried to escape.

You learned how, after Sarah’s death some ten years ago, your new friend Jacob had come to England for work and met Mary, a widow who became his close friend. Over the years the friendship had grown until they married finally three years previously, allowing him to stay in England. It was Mary who had procured visas for the rest of the family and her sadness at what had happened was acute.

As the sun went down and the chill sharpened in the air you walked Jacob to his street, promising to go straight home after and to come visit as soon as you were able. Your heart was heavy as you walked away, your mind in turmoil. The whole story made it onto the page as you wrote to Jack that night, including your soul wrenching sadness at what was happening on the Continent. For once you held nothing back, pouring onto the paper your conflicting hopelessness at the state of the world and your unrelenting joy with him and your unborn child. You felt so guilty stealing even a moment of happiness when Jacob’s whole family, and so many countless others were suffering so greatly.

Oddly it was Mary rather than Jack who was able to make you feel less so. Jack’s letters, while admitting that the stories were seemingly true and worsening, were full of love and hope, talk of your future, of a life after the war. You loved it, loved reading and imagining it, dreaming of the days when you would finally be together. The way he described his home you could see it so clearly, the mountains and the mist, the valleys, the stone houses. He was so ready for it to begin and so were you, but you couldn’t escape the black cloud that hung over you, the knowledge that you had the possibility of a future that so many people were being robbed of.

What you never told Jack in your letters was how that guilt and horror at what was happening made you cry yourself to sleep at night as much as his absence did.

As winter drew on, edging toward spring you found yourself at Jacob and Mary’s often, especially once she started brewing you her special tea for morning sickness. Mary swore up and down that it was the tea that had gotten her through five pregnancies without even a day in bed being sick. You weren’t one hundred percent sure of it, but it actually seemed to work and she did love fussing over you like a mother hen. It was Mary who had sternly told you one day, as you all sat in their basement, that it was right and proper to grieve the situation on the Continent, that to be horrified and aching for the Jewish people was the mark of a good and caring human. But she also said that the suffering of others shouldn’t make you lose hope and joy, because otherwise what was the point of fighting? What was the point of living if you couldn’t be happy, that each person on the earth was put there to live and that the ability to do so amidst so much suffering meant that humanity was worth fighting for. You saw her point and the guilt at least eased, if not the sadness.

As the months dragged on you saw the sadness in Jacob’s eyes too, each day without word from his family hurt him more and the moments of laughter that you had experienced when you first met were fewer now as the hope for their survival dimmed. Still, he told endless stories of them, and Mary of her children, two of whom hadn’t survived the Depression. Her three remaining daughters were all married with families of their own and each of them had asked for their mother to go to them. But Jacob wouldn’t leave the last place his son knew to look for him, and Mary wouldn’t leave Jacob.

In March Jack was transferred to RAF Feltwell, a newer Air Force base located in Norfolk almost two hours away. He was given three days leave before he was to report for his new duties and to say that you were devastated was an understatement.

“I wish you weren’t going.” you sighed as he hung his jacket in your wardrobe the first day.

“Aye love, me too, but I haf tae go where I’m ordered. They need me there.”

“Doing what?”

You saw the look on his face, even though he tried to hide it. Whatever it was he didn’t want to tell you. A wave of panic wafted over you leaving you dizzy and gasping for air.

“Ye need tae lay down love, come on now there’s naught tae be getting upset about.” Jack helped you to your bed, kicking off his shoes to lay beside you. “They need trained pilots fer the bombers, that’s all.”

He had mentioned this in his letters, or the prospect of one day bombers being sent over the channel. Nothing specific of course, but now it looked like that prospect was a reality. “So you are a bomber pilot now? No more Spitfires?” In your mind the fact that he wouldn’t be a fighter pilot anymore wasn’t exactly soothing.

“Aye, I’ll fly wi a crew o six an all we’ll do is fly over, drop the bombs and leave. Nothin tae it.”

“Nothing to flying over enemy airspace and being under attack constantly, it sounds unbelievably dangerous.”

He pulled you closer so you could rest your head on his shoulder, his hand rubbing your arm gently.

“I’ll no lie tae ye, it’s war lass, anythin I do is goin tae be dangerous, this is no exception.”

Pushing yourself up to sit facing him you looked down at your husband. Trying your hardest not to cry you took him in, from his soft, bright hair to the straight length of his nose every inch of him as precious to you as your own life.

“Promise me…” you sucked in a deep breath before continuing sternly. “Jack Andrew Collins you promise me that you will come back to us.”

Sitting up, Jack wrapped you up in his arms, holding you as the tears fell.

“I mean it Jack, you come back, don’t leave us alone. Don’t be a hero, please, just do your job and come home. Don’t make me live without you.”

He buried his face in your neck, his arms so tight that you almost couldn’t breathe.

“I’m comin back tae ye, love. I promise. I swear I’m comin home.”

Jack held you like that until after the sun went down, until you were forced downstairs to eat, him holding your hand and gently lecturing you about taking it easy with the baby on the way. He knew you well enough by now not to tell you to stop your Red Cross work, only to tell you to be extra careful. You had already scaled back your duties as you started showing so you were one step ahead of him there. Later he admitted that he felt a little useless, all things considered, you already had so much under control and you didn’t really need him.

“You’re right Jack.” you said from the bed as you watched him change. “I don’t need you, I’ve always been able to take care of myself. But I don’t want to. I want you and I want us, that’s a big difference.”

Jack chuckled, climbing under the covers to spoon you against him, rubbing his stubbly chin against your shoulder.

“Ye think ye will see tha way in twenty years? When I’m no the handsome, fit man I am today?”

Giggling, you snuggled closer to him, lacing your fingers with his.

“You’ll always be handsome to me, Jack. I’m the one who’s going to get all fat and out of shape.”

“Nay, lass yer pregnant no fat and besides well be goin walkin every day so as we donna let ourselves go.”

You could feel him snickering.

“What about in the winter? Are going to go walking in the snow?”

“I’m sure we can think o summan tae do tae stay active during all those long,” his mouth pressed against your shoulder, “dark,” your neck, “nights.” his teeth grazed your ear sending a familiar, warm tingle down your spine.

Turning in his arms you pushed Jack until he was on his back and you straddled him, leaning down to kiss him hungrily.

“I say we start going through ideas right now.” you murmured against his skin.

Three days wasn’t nearly enough time, but you and Collins made the most of it. Most of the time you spent alone, everyone understood why and you weren’t interrupted. You walked over to see Jacob and Mary, eager to have them meet the man you had told them so much about. Jack and Jacob were instant friends, the camaraderie between them apparent from the get go. You didn’t even mind that the two men spent the whole day chatting while you and Mary made dinner and looked at each of them fondly from across the room. When you left, Jack was full of admiration for the elderly man, expressing his hope of seeing a lot more of the couple in the future.

“I feel awful about his son,” he admitted.”I canna imagine knowin what’s happenin there and bein helpless to save them. Not knowin is the hardest part.”

You knew, from the sombre look on his face that he was thinking of Farrier, his friend who’s fate after Dunkirk had never been determined. You couldn’t imagine not knowing what had happened to someone and imagining the very worst.

The last day, he had to leave that night for Norfolk so that he could report the next morning, you spent in bed. Neither of you felt hungry enough to go get breakfast, even though Jack scolded you saying you needed to feed the baby at least. You managed to distract him from that train of thought. Later, after a bath and a sandwich or two you sat against the pillows on the bed, Jack’s head in your lap as he gazed up at you, his ear pressed against the small swell of your stomach.

“…The air was free from gnats, the earth from weeds or fungi; everywhere were fruits and sweet and delightful flowers; brilliant butterflies flew hither and thither. The ideal of preventive medicine was attained. Diseases had been stamped out…even the processes of putrefaction and decay had been profoundly affected by these changes.”

Your fingers threaded absentmindedly through his hair as you read, his fingers reaching up from time to time to brush your arm, or your face before returning to rest on his stomach.

“Social triumphs, too, had been effected. I saw mankind housed in splendid shelters, gloriously clothed, and as yet I had found them engaged in no toil. There were no signs of struggle, neither social nor economic struggle. The shop, the advertisement, traffic, all that commerce which constitutes the body of our world, was gone. It was natural on that golden evening that I should jump at the idea of a social paradise. The difficulty of increasing population had been met, I guessed, and population had ceased to increase.”

You read him the entire book, taking delight in his almost childlike enjoyment of such a simple pleasure. Time ceased to exist for those few hours and you saw your future clearly, a child lying between the two of you as you read until they both fell asleep. It was a future you wanted so badly that it almost hurt to think about it.

Before he left, you made love one last time, savoring the slow, gentle slide of his skin against yours, the feeling of his mouth against your lips and the overwhelming feeling of being held tightly in his arms. Jack kissed your tears away when you cried, let you help him dress when it was time and didn’t even try to tell you to buck up.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can. And I’ll write every day, I promise.” he punctuated his words with kisses as he hugged you goodbye. “Jus stay safe an take care o yerself and our girl.”

“You’re sure the baby is a girl then?”

“Aye, an she’ll look like ye and I’ll be the most envied man in Ballachulish wi ma two princesses on ma arms.”

“What if it’s a boy?”

‘Same goes.” Jack shrugged, grinning down at you. “As long as I have ye, I’ll be the luckiest man in Scotland, and our bairn will be the luckiest kid tae haf ye as a mum.”

“And you as a Dad, Jack. It’s us who are lucky.”

Jack’s hands cradled the back of your head as he kissed you again and your arms wrapped around his waist, locking so that you wouldn’t have to let him go.

“Let’s say we are both lucky, shall we?”

“I love you Jack Collins.”

“And I love ye Y/N Collins.”

You had to watch him walk away, as much as it hurt you had to watch, waiting until he got to the corner and lifted his hand to wave goodbye. With tears streaming down your cheeks you waved back, even when he turned the corner and vanished out of sight. For the longest time you stood there, staring at the spot where you had last seen him, willing him to reappear.

When would you see him again?