#when i moved i left the book behind at my grandma's house... i wonder if it's even stored away. probably got thrown out 💔

[dormiloncito]

just remembered watchmen

[xxx-wounded-angel-xxx]

Love blooms in bookstores - part one

Hi 🌻anon ! Here's the first part of your request, I'll try to get part 2 out as soon as i get out of my writer's block.

Felix Volturi x reader

Wordcount : 1188 words

No one had wanted that small bookshop your grandma left behind, but you. “Old books are boring”, said your uncles. “Moving in another country is not interesting and too much trouble”, said your parents. “This shop is too much work”, said your cousins. They all wanted to sell it, even if it meant giving up the apartment above it. “But no”, you said, “I will take it.” And so you did. You wanted to be a librarian at first, but this was a wonderful opportunity, to inherit the bookstore your grandma loved so much. You also had fond memories of Volterra…

So, you signed the papers, put all your belongings in boxes, stopped talking to your family that was pissed at you for not selling the shop that would have brought them money, and you left for Italy. Your Italian was not perfect, but it was good enough and would get better with practice. You also received your grandma’s saving that were connected to the inheritance of the bookshop, and learnt the same way that some patrons of Volterra allowed you a fund for taking care of that historical building, an important shop for the community. Once the paperwork was complete and everything was in order, you finally moved to Volterra. It was almost a religious moment, the one when you finally unlocked the door to the bookshop. It wasn’t as big as you remembered, you weren’t so little anymore, but it was still as magical as you remembered it. It was hard for you to fathom that you would never see your grandma behind the counter again, but at least you got to make her legacy keep on living, like you knew she wanted. You explored the shop a little, but quickly moved to the living area upstairs, where you would live from now on, you had to settle down. The house had been empty for a good few months now, and you had to clean up a lot of things. You brought all your things in, leaving in boxes most of your belongings for now, you would have to get rid of some of your grandma’s things first.

It took you a whole week and half to choose what to keep and what to get rid of, donating and selling what you wouldn’t have the use for. Once that was done, you organized your own belonging, and you were finally settled in. It was now time to take care of the bookshop. You started to look in the book of counts, and it didn’t seem too bad. There was even a regular, a certain Demetri Aster that would regularly buy a lot of books for a good amount of money, keeping the bookshop afloat practically by himself. You hoped that this client would not mind the change of owner, and remain a regular client. Sadly, you quickly discovered that very few things were done by computer, you would have to change that, like the way to keep track of the stock for example. It would be much easier for you in the end. You decided to start to familiarize yourself with the bookshop by doing the full inventory, which was the most logical way in your eyes, and also a good way to get to touch every book.

That was on your second day of inventory that you met him. Despite the bookshop not being open yet, you had kept the door open, to keep some air flowing in to prevent you from dying from that many dust. A smooth and masculine voice had resonated through the shop as you were inventorying your third bookshelf of the day, asking if you were finally open again. You turned to the intruder, discovering a well-dressed man, maybe in his late mid-twenties looking at you. He was that typical well-dressed man you were expecting to see, except that he was very handsome, and you could swear he had an accent, even if you couldn’t pin it yet. “I am sorry, but I have not reopened yet. I am merely at the beginning of the inventory.”, you told him nicely. “I need to know precisely what I have and what I need before reopening grandma’s bookshop.”

At these words, the man apologized. “Oh, I am sorry to disturb you then. I was quite the good client for your grandmother, and I was hoping the bookshop would reopen soon… My name is Demetri by the way, and I want to say that I am truly sorry for your loss, your grandmother was a wonderful woman.” You nodded and felt bad that you looked so under-dressed compared to your usual self and covered in dust, while meeting for the first time who you hoped would be your best client. “I intend to reopen as soon as I can, and I am hopeful that I will be able to by the end of the month.” That brought a smile on Demetri’s face, he seemed to have missed a lot to have shopped in this particular bookshop. “That would be absolutely delightful!” Since he seemed to have the time, you allowed him to stay in the shop with you, chatting. You were curious about Volterra, life around and Demetri seemed to know a lot about the town and its surrounding. It was nice to chat with Demetri, and the rainy afternoon seemed to go by much faster in his company, until Demetri bid you goodbye, promising you to come back as soon as the shop was open again, and gave you his phone number in case you needed him.

Like you thought, it took you three weeks to finish the inventory, clean the shelves and organize the books, but also get a program to digitalize most of the things. You distribute flyers around the town to announce the reopening and change of owner, and text Demetri about the set date which delight him. He also promises to come with his brother, which pique your interest. When the day of the reopening finally arrive, you put on one of your best outfits, but can’t help but be a little worried at how bad the weather is, it is not really inviting… For the first hour, no one shows up. And when rain starts pouring, you thought it was a bad sign. But finally, you heard the door open, and a familiar voice greeting you.

“[Y/N]! It is nice to see the bookshop opened again!” “Demetri! It’s a pleasure to see you again.” You greet him, delighted to see your first customer. “I’ve ordered a selection of books on my own, so I let you have a look around…” That’s when you saw him. The man behind Demetri was a giant, so tall and muscular and handsome… Your eyes couldn’t let go of him as you took in his figure, his short dark hair, sharp jawline, kissable lips… He had his arms crossed in a casual way, the muscles flexing under his tight shirt, and you finally got the revelation why you were into bigger guys: you were waiting for him to show up in your life.

[onestormeynight]

Life After Penny

Rosie had collected all the photos and paintings that mattered from her mother's house before listing it for sale. It broke her heart to, but she followed through anyways. She had considered moving into the house herself. It was built for a single person and their pet, however, and it would take an entire remodel to fit everyone there. No. Better to have someone else live their best life there.

Rosie spent time with the girls every day after school reading them a chapter out of whatever book they were currently on. The weather was kind to them, allowing them to spend time on their small porch.

Nellie had convinced Ida to start drawing more and in turn, she would learn the violin.

"What are you drawing?" Nellie asked.

"A butterfly."

"Why?"

"It reminds me of Grandma."

Ida in particular was very fond of Costello. She loved to pet him and give him scraps from her plate, despite her mother's scolding that begging was impolite.

"Grandma used to make his food from scratch," Ida argued. "You just give him kibble."

"She spoiled that dog," Rosie tutted. "Kibble is just fine."

"So are my scraps."

Robin enjoyed having someone to jog with. He even liked to take Costello with him when he went fishing. Costello wasn't a yappy dog, but was prone to wandering off on his own. Robin was going to have to train him on recall.

Life after Penny felt almost repetitive. Rosie wasn't sure if this would be the new normal, or if she was using the routine to avoid her feelings. She had only let the girls see her cry at Penny's funeral and never since. Not that she wasn't a mess behind closed doors. Sometimes Robin had to take on extra duties with the girls so Rosie could compose herself.

She missed her mother horribly. The urge to pick up the phone and text her hadn't left. Costello would sometimes place his head in her lap and look at her with the same sad eyes she knew she wore herself. Rosie had a complete meltdown the day she realized she was the adult in her life now. There was no Aunt B next door and no Penny across the street.

"You've given me everything I need" she'd said to her mother hours before she died. Sometimes, when the world was quiet and she was left in her own head, she wondered about that statement.

Did she have everything she needed? Or, even as an adult, did Rosie still need her Mom?

((prev)) ((next))

[aestheticvoyage2022]

Day 361: Tuesday December 27, 2022 - “Christmas Day at The Finca”

The best Christmas gift given to me this year, was the gift of sleep and I opened it, finally after 9am.  That first breath of Christmas Day was a deep one.  Slowly, this old man stretched out of bed, appreciative of being able to go my own pace and wondering how I got so damn lucky.  I walked out to whats been a pretty normal world of baby boy up in his high chair eating his noodles and mama just makin house.  Howd I get so damn lucky.

I prepped the good camera, and was sure to capture a postcard photo of Christmas Morning 2022, and we called the dogs in to include them and made sure William knew that today was special, and that Santa had come for him being such a good boy, and having such a great year, and let him stroll in on his own through the baby gate, into the great room, to find the special unwrapped toys that Santas presented so carefully the night before. And whats this? A special little surprise?!  A pair of Santa’s gloves left behind...and a note!  A note from Santa on the back of one of his gifts.  So awesome!  And already, Im dreaming about the magic of Christmas 2023 with a two year old.   William was so precious taking his sweet time with each gift.  No particular hurry - because why should he expect anything more?!  He got everything he needed in the first two minutes afterall, with a true blue little blue truck, and a stuffed Abby Kadabby doll.  The real special gift this year was a learning tower to help more safely unlock the air up there to help in the kitchen.  There were plenty of good learning toys, and fancy mind benders, and wonderful books.  So much great stuff to keep his attention for his growing brain on those long daddy weekends to come!  I was more excited than he was.   We slowly moved through the morning, and when it was time for nap, we all agreed to a halftime and it was then as I organized from the first half, and cleaned up the sweet mess, I thought about how much fun this was, and easy.  Howd I get so damn lucky?

After lunch we came back to the tree for some final big ticket items!  We facetimed in with my parents so that Papa and Grandma could connect with William and open presents with us.  I scored a bean bag chair for my office!  I enjoyed the gift of trying to spoil Audrie and making sure she was taken care of for all that she does for us and our family.  She affirmed me later for the thoughtful “self care” gifts, and I hadnt thought of it that way, but yea thats the Christmas spirit...  I love you, I support you, Im here for you.  Thats really the gift I was trying to give.  I want you to know that I know that Im pretty damn lucky.

We got the Christmas Ham in the oven - and it didnt matter how long it took or what dinner would look like - I was resolved to not stress about anything today.  I guess that Christmas Ham was already a couple days late anyway!   When the food was ready, we huddled around our patio table with Audrie’s parental units, then enjoyed sitting around all together enjoying Christmas all together.  The third round, and William still going strong. Precious, secure, happy, right through the end. Not over stimulated, not fussy, not needy or clingy.  Just a perfect little Christmas boy, loving and kissing his grandparents, fascinated by his thoughtful presents, and happy to have us all together, and functioning well.  I looked out at the mess in front of me and though “he’s pretty damn lucky”  - so much love.

Song: Taylor McCall - So Damn Lucky

Quote:  "Nothing ever seems too bad, too hard, or too sad when you've got a Christmas tree in the living room." ~Nora Roberts

[bow-and-beg-before-me]

TCK's Lament

When I was 8, I thought I knew what home was. A place to stay for a while, a place which grew comfortable and familiar. I'd had many homes before. Green carpet and gravel driveway for a year, a school with blue carpet and books in the library they wouldn't let me read because I was still supposed to be on picture books. Red brick and a park with the tree I could only climb with daddy's help for two years. The snow and the yellow school bus and my pink dress with daisies for two years before that. Tales of places I didn't remember were home, too. They were mummy and daddy's home, so they just must have been mine.

This was going to be another home, as I stepped off the train. A house of wooden floors and a room in the middle of the stairs less than a metre tall. For suitcases, daddy said, and so it was called the suitcase room. I had a new school, with green lunch trays and a dusty playground. I didn't look like the other students, with their shiny straight black hair and skin that didn't burn easily. I didn't care, I was 8. I wonder how much they cared; me with my fluffy blonde hair and lighter brown eyes, different but ignorant of it. I told them I was only there for 4 years. I wanted to warn them, to warn myself. I was going to disappear soon. Oh, 4 years sounds like such a short time. Maybe I was always different, but I was part of their group nonetheless. I made friends with a quiet girl, whose skin was like theirs but her black hair was wavy like mine. We taught ourselves to ride unicycles together, dust and falls and clinging to railings. We drifted apart as the months went by, but I played in the class games of tag and never felt alone. The whole class worked for weeks on our sports day dances, because sports day was an Important Event. It was Important to me, but not to my parents who grew up where sports days were an afternoon of egg and spoon races. They came anyway, tried to reach my world, and I was happy. When I was eleven, the whole class had a trip to the mountains. We hiked and milked a cow and made butter and sang songs and made noodles and watched Despicable Me in the bus on the way back. We were family. My parents changed the deadline. Instead of leaving in March, when the school year ended, we would go in the summer to arrive with the school year. I was 11, just starting to understand that not all rules were absolute. Why couldn't we stay untill I finished school, I asked. We had another trip this year that I didn't want to miss, to the sea this time. Graduation was an Important Event. I wanted to stay, I told them. This wasn't like other homes, this was part of me. There were Important Events I didn't want to miss, a second family I wanted to stay with.

It wasn't Important to my parents. Not enough.

We were leaving in the summer. Wasn't I happy to be going back to see Grandma and Grandpa? To see my cousins? I was always so good at moving, I'd bounce right back. I didn't have the words for it then. How can a 12 year old understand that my home was my family, and every time we'd moved before I'd taken everything important with me? But this time, my home was the people, the school, the sports days and the lunches and the games and the trips. My first real home that I couldn't take with me. I made gifts. I sewed dolls for all the girls in my class and made paper crabs for the boys. I cross stitched a kitten for church. Little crumbs of myself, left behind like they could anchor me to my home. It was all torn away. Distance and time and noisy aeroplanes and everyone waiting for us as we left the airport--aren't you so glad to be back? how does it feel to be home? But I wasn't home. I wasn't I wasn't I wasn't I WASN'T home and my home was gone and everyone assumed I would be fine because I had been before but they don't understand how much difference 2 extra years make. We were only in the new place for a year. I rebuilt my tattered home, patched up the holes, pulled the rips together.

Then we flew again, a train ride away from the shell of my old home. The people were gone, the school was different, and I didn't want to hurt so I never went to look. For 3 years, it was fine. I had a new home of people like me, American and Korean and Japanese and maybe I was the only Brit but we all understood what it was like to be different and yet belong, to have different Important Things from the people we lived with. We made a home of red lockers and a hideous lemon yellow wall on the new cafeteria. There were teachers we liked and teachers we didn't, tests and APs for the older students and the ominous Senior Capstone research project. There was a week in each autumn where we didn't have school and instead went to a lake or hiked and camped or watched movies and walked through the hallways blindfolded. There were class beach days and student council events and dress up days. I found a new set of Important Things. My parents don't know what the fuss was about high school graduation--getting your degree is the important thing. Oh, they understand so much of me, love me, listen to me, but they don't share my Important Things.

My brother went to a school like mine, brown haired in a sea of black. We visited for his sports day and my ragged stumps of what home had been, screamed out their loss and agony. I miss my home, even with the new. I miss what was, and what could have been. I wish I knew, when I arrived, just how long 4 years would be. I don't want to graduate and leave this home, to go back to where the people look like me but I'm still different. I don't know how supermarkets work, I don't know how to order over the counter medication, I am foreign, alien, different.

I left behind my first home, I won't fit in my second much longer. I'll leave behind my family soon.

I want my fourth home to be my last.

I don't want to lose more than I already have.

[the-firebird69]

Watch "Britney Spears | House Tour | $12 Million Calabasas Mansion & More" on YouTube

Brittany was a grandma and she passed in his entombed in Britain. She's married to Tommy f and Sherry I think his performing the role and may not comprehend when how awful of a person he is and dangerous and I guess they'd be a thousand oaks and this is confusing this video but if you watch it it says it a whole bunch of times and he wanted to say that they broke up or something but it's not what I gathered from it what I gathered was that he's trying to use his cover that's Sherry for The disappearance of Grandma Queen Elizabeth II and there's a transition where they moved to Calabasas and then Grandma took ill and they moved back back to thousand oaks and it was Sherry and reason book but only if you look at it right. So I'm wondering what is happening at that house and what's the difference is and if the bar that was at habitat for humanity and his sold was actually the one from the mansion in Calabasas, as advanced to touch it a little I looked at it and thought it was high-end looking and the bell built and out of place as an item does it looked new it looks like a built-in too.

Zues

It sure was a built-in and they did take it out of there and it's this idiot Tommy f and he was roaming around when you're in there and he's really just a fat slob watching for actions it's kind of like a girl. That really mad at him I got really angry and I said hey screw you buddy later on the day and I walked up behind you and so say what looking around didn't see anybody and it stuck my knife right through I said you're trying to do this to my husband and he said wow that actually hurts and I cut out a little bit of stuff and left him there bleeding I said don't do it and then he got on the bus snickering sunset I don't really need to hear this and thinking about choking you and you said you didn't even stabbed to you you can't even see her and he says what are you talking about and he froze and you moved already but he's sitting there for like Frozen in fear oh I want to tell you he went up and shot you when he was close a lot of people are sneaking up on him and hitting him. Trying to get the stuff and PG will see like five times trying to do it and he did do it because his man showed him so he is in trouble and that's why The sopranos is happening and it's probably taking thier iron man stuff. True though that she got sick and BG's knows why she was left in the grave just Poking prodding and found some real stuff and actually took some of it I put it somewhere and it was nice he said and leave that stuff and I don't want it what it is and she said I need that stuff and I need it right where it is and something happens to me it comes out and in stages. He failed to listen to it.

Now I know this guy and he's looking and has to try stuff it's looking for trouble so I had to drop him a few times they're is such a thing as the curse of the mummy. I believe her finale is to have him revived and family and to show them who was Pharaoh and who killed them and why and she knows the story and if he tries to do something to her Tutankhamen will live again and she's the threatening with it no but she did try to once she's threatened him once with it and said that's one of them and he said no it isn't and it's still a threat but it wasn't active and it went active yesterday. And McDonald's is probably real and it's going on and he'll probably try and stop it but he probably won't stop her from doing it cuz I have to see this tommy ff guy go away he's a freaking idiot and I don't want to lose my husband to an idiot

Hera

It

it is her curse, that's Queen Elizabeth II so you don't figure out what it is your doomed Tommy f and frankly I don't think that you'll be able to stop it that's what she said

Zues

We'll just see about that and many of these antiquities and grabbing those shouldn't be that hard

Tommy f

It might be because we're the ones who made them and father and mother know it

Hera

Zues

Holy s*** I thought you were Extinction here you are two giants right in my craw. The other sucks bad but you two are horrible. But really encourage like crazy and I do see they're not they're almost out of here and they're desperate and losers

Tommy f

It's true the loss is very very sleep steep they lost a lot of people and more last night

Hera Zues

Olympus the certify this message is true

[faerieswrites]

tell me why you like the midwest (a snippet)

It’s been a while since we last spoke.

I went back to the apartment a few days ago, to grab a few boxes of books I left behind. Your books, not mine. I wanted them anyway. Your keys were still in the dish near the door on the side table, the one shaped like a koi fish. We got it from the swap meet near my Christine’s house, remember? It was a clear Saturday morning, and you were wearing your white blouse, even though you told me the entire drive over that it was the wrong shirt and that you’d end up staining it, which you didn’t. I always carried one of those stain remover pens in my purse, just in case. There’s still one in there.

So, keys in the dish. I thought about returning them to you, but I knew that was just a justification to see you again, even if it meant getting the door slammed in my face. Not that I know where you live, since everyone told me you moved halfway across the country to get away from me. You said you weren’t angry when we broke it off, and then you moved to Kansas. Christine tried to tell me you’d found an amazing job opportunity out there. She was lying, I know. What amazing job opportunities are there in fucking Kansas?

You hate places like that. When we were roadtripping out to see your grandma, before she died in hospice care, you wouldn’t shut up about how much you hated the midwest. You were like that; everything made you angry, and you expressed that anger with gusto and passion non-stop. Being in the car with you felt like being next to a ticking time bomb. Maybe it’s not a good thing that the idea of blowing to bits and having my body riddled with lethal shrapnel didn’t bother me. Or maybe, I just got so used to it that the idea of being hurt was palatable, even exciting, if it was your hand that caused the pain.

“I hate it out here,” You said, tossing your head back to get the imaginary hair out of your face so that you didn’t have to take your hands off the steering wheel. No hair could escape that painfully tight braid. I tried to move my feet around, but there were too many gift bags at my feet. What did we need all these gifts for? Your grandma wasn’t going to live long enough to use them. “It’s just a bunch of nothing in every direction,” You continued. I pushed a gift bag to the side with my foot. A small speck of dirt colored the white floral pattern from the ratty trainers you kept telling me to throw out.

Out with the old and in with the new seemed to be your life-defining motto. Nothing old could stick around; nothing unclean would be tolerated. It was a wonder that you were seeing your grandma at all, considering how much elderly people annoyed you. Not that anything didn’t annoy you. “I hated going out here when I was younger.” I knew. You told me. Often. “Nothing to see, nothing to do, always out here over spring break, when I could’ve been back on the Res, hanging out with my friends.”

You hadn’t lived on the Res in years. You hadn’t seen any of your family in years, either. It was strange hearing you bring them up, since you often proclaimed how much you hated all of them. Not that being hated by you was a special privilege. You hated everyone just a little bit, myself included. Maybe more than a little bit, considering this was the last trip we went on before everything really Went To Shit.

You were always so angry. It’s like you were born with a forest fire inside you, and every person that spoke to you ended up as kindling, until there was no separating you from the destruction the fire razed. You became the ash, the heat, the dead animals, the fracturing and peeling charcoaled bark. There was no saving you from the licking of the flames. You wouldn’t want to be saved anyway; always so independent, always so alone. You told me you’d never felt lonely a day in your life. I knew that was true. You’d always had the rage to keep you company.

“I like it,” I said, looking out of the car window. I would’ve used the hand crank to lower the window if I hand’t known how much that pissed you off. The car was an old, sputtering, dying thing, and you spent all your energy ensuring it ran one more day. It pissed you off that you could never afford to get a new one, considering you hated the elderly.

People have different reactions to being poor. Unsustainable materialism or unlivable frugality. You’d buy new things the second you could, even over heating or electricity, but you only ate rice, ramen, pasta, and whatever else was on sale at the Kroger’s. Material with everything but food. I guess that’s a trauma response to never having enough on the table.

The scenery blurred by as we got closer and closer to the Res. Barn, cows, barn, pasture, barn, goats, barn, abandoned gas station, barn, tiny house, barn, corn, barn, barn, wheat, corn, barn. Over and over in an endless cycle of the blank midwestern landscape, with nothingness in every direction. I found it soothing; there was nothing that put me at ease more than being able to see in every direction. There was nothing out here, and therefore it was peaceful. Nobody bothered anyone who hid in the tiny houses of the midwest emptiness.

“Of course you like it.” You said, your voice colored with a hint of mocking. I bristled immediately, straightening my back and looking over at you.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I couldn’t help the accusation in my voice. We’d gotten up criminally early to start the road trip, and while you were a morning person, I was not. That, and the ludacris rule you had about having no food or beverages in your car meant I’d been deprived of my morning coffee. It was a recipe for disaster, which was what we were quickly tumbling into. A one way ticket to disaster-town, with a special scenic route of resentment and victimization.

“It just seems like it’s all your speed, considering where you grew up.”

“You grew up out here, too.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t like it as much as you do.” Fuck, I didn’t want to do this right now. I never wanted to fight, but right now? On the way to your grandma’s deathbed? On almost no sleep and no coffee?

“Okay. Okay, whatever you say.” I had tried to placate you, as if you were a spooked horse, leg raised to crush me underhoof. If I could just navigate around the land mines in the conversation, maybe we could both make it out unscathed, with disaster-town completely avoided.

“Why are you doing that?” No dice. You could never let anything go. You were always clinging on, like it’d stop slipping away if you gripped it hard enough. It was funny how you never clung to our relationship. Maybe I’d helped you get over that nasty habit. Maybe loving me was so awful that all your abandonment and control issues slipped away, your hands too tired to catch them, floating off into the crisp night air. Did you feel freed? Or did you stare at them drifting off, missing the weight of them in your chest, in your actions?

“What?”

“That thing you always do, where you don’t talk to me and just agree with whatever I say so that we don’t fight. It just kills our communication.”

“I don’t want to fight.”

“Aren’t we supposed to, though? Isn’t fighting, like, a sign of a healthy relationship?”

“Not when we do it all the time.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You spat the words out like they were hurting you, your teeth gritted and grinding. I remember staying up late, after you’d fallen asleep, and peeling back your upper lip gently with one of my fingers. I wanted to see if you’d ground them to nubs yet. I wanted to scope out the growing damage.

“It means we always do this shit every fucking time we go anywhere. We always fight over the stupidest things and then we don’t talk for the rest of the drive and I give you the silent treatment and you yell at me. It means we’re never actually accomplishing anything when we argue. That’s all. I don’t want to fight with you before we see your grandma.”

“I don’t always yell at you.”

“Okay.”

“You know what?” Here we go. Horse hoof imminent. Disaster-town coming up. “Fuck you. You always assume the worst of me and then we never make any progress. Do you even-”

“Don’t cuss at me. Don’t you ever cuss at me like that again.”

“Okay. Okay, I’m sorry. I’m just… It’s been a while since I’ve seen my family, and I’m worked up over it, and I don’t want to fight with you, so I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

“It’s fine.”

“Tell me why you like the midwest.”

[reg-arcturus-black]

hiiiii! i hope you’re having a wonderful day, filled with sunshine & rainbows !! 💫✨ may i please request sirius x daughter! reader imagine where the reader is staying with sirius for the first time since he went to azkaban and when she goes to bed he tries to tuck her in but struggles because the last time he’d have done it, he probably would’ve read her a story but she’s presumably grown out of that by now and so he’s not really sure what to do ? 🥺🍄 oml and her room probably hasn’t been touched in like 12 years- the memories, the guilt he must feel- i’m gonna criiiii

Hi!!! That is so kind of you 💕 I hope you're doing okay in these terrible, terrible times 🌸❤

This was honestly such a beautiful plot! Thank you. And I did cry while writing it... Hope you like it, too 🤗

The Reunion (Sirius Black x Daughter Reader)

1.4k words

Fluff

Requests now open.

Masterlist

You paced nervously in the hallway, waiting for that knock on the door. Ever since you were 2, you had been living with your grandparents. Your mother was a muggleborn and was found by the vengeful deatheaters a few months after Sirius was imprisoned. Your grandparents didn’t understand a lot about the wizarding world, but they understood you. They were your best friends.

When you would ask about your mother and the bad people who took her away, they would gently sit you down and tell you all about her. They would tell you how much she loved you, the way she had cried when you were first born, how similar she was to you, how she had spent every minute fighting for your father’s innocence.

They would then tell you about your father. How much he loved your mother and you, how you had his grey eyes and the beautiful hair and his affinity for mischief. They even told you about his friends and the pranks they did in school.

Your mother had so many pictures from her school days. Pictures with your father, with her friends, with his friends. You could spend the entire day looking at them. But you could never bring yourself to. It was too difficult. Too difficult to look at the pictures of the two most important people you barely remembered.

Harry was younger than you. Once you had received the news that your father had broken out, you both had talked a lot about him. You told him Sirius was innocent but you had no proof, neither did he have any reason to believe you.

Once his fourth year and your sixth year was over, you had gotten a letter from your father. He was finally healthy enough to travel and wanted to meet you at the apartment he and your mother had shared. You had spent 2 years there as an infant before Sirius had been wrongly accused and your mother moved back in with her parents.

Your grandpa and grandma were ecstatic when they had heard the news and had instantly allowed you to spend the weekend with him. You didn’t know if you were nervous or excited. Probably both.

Your heart beat sped up when you heard a knock and ran to open the door. You were greeted by a man looking in his 30s who looked so much like you. “Dad...” you said, not being able to believe that he was finally here.

He smiled and pulled you into an awkward hug. “It is so good to see you, sweetheart.”

You grinned and let him in, closing the door behind him.

He looked around the house he had shared with your mother, all the memories rushing back. When they had first bought it, decorated it and his favourite one, when they had brought you home from the hospital.

“I - you can have a look around if you want,” you offered, not knowing what else to say. “It must have been a long time since you were last here.”

He nodded, “It is, but I am starving. You want to have dinner first?”

You gave him a small smile and went towards the dining room. “I didn’t know what you liked so I got pizza.” You said nervously. “We can get something else. I am sorry I wasn’t - ”

“Pizza is just fine,” he grinned.

The silence during dinner was very awkward. Neither of you knew what to say. Sirius’ heart was heavy with sadness and guilt. How he had missed out on all those years. Missed out on your firsts. The first time you left for Hogwarts, the first time you had cried over someone, your first detention. And guilt because it was his fault. If he wouldn’t have gone after Peter, he would be there to watch you grow up.

“Uh, how is school?” he asked, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Nice, I like it there,”

He nodded. “I did, too. My family was the worst so Hogwarts was my home. Especially after I met your mother.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that. Your heart clenched at her mention and didn’t say anything else during the rest of the dinner.

“Do you wanna see the rest of the house before you sleep? I don’t think you have before.” He asked.

You shook your head and followed him upstairs. The first door he opened was the master bedroom’s, a picture of your mother and father lying on the nightstand, covered in dust. Every inch of the room and the bathroom was covered in dust.It had been so long it was a miracle the light switches worked. With a flick of his wand, he cleaned it all up and made it look as good as new.

“She was beautiful,” he sighed, looking at the photo.

You nodded and left the room quickly, going to your nursery. There was a crib on one side and a bed on the other. The wall had a shelf full of books, both muggle and magical alike. A broom hung over your crib, zooming around in circles. This room, too, was covered in dust.

You were reading the titles of the book when you heard him chuckle behind you.You turned around and saw him remove all the dust. You gasped when you saw the room properly. There were hand-painted drawings on the wall and stars on the ceiling.

“She painted the walls.” he told you. “And the stars were my idea. There were nights when she missed you a lot and would come in here and sleep in this room. After a point, we all slept in the nursery, hence the bed.” He laughed fondly.

You didn’t like it. It was too painful to know that you had all these wonderful moments but you hardly remembered them. Too painful to know that you never got the chance to make more of such moments. You sighed and sat down on the bed.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, sitting down beside you.

You looked at him, eyes full of unshed tears. You never realized how much you had needed him until he was right in front of you. “I - I barely remember you. Or mom. I see flashes of you and her, but that’s it.” He placed an arm around your shoulder and your voice broke. “I missed you, but it was so difficult missing you when I didn’t even remember you...” You then broke down into sobs as he pulled you into him. “I missed you so much, dad.” You cried.

Holding you in his arms as you cried only drowned him deeper in guilt. “I am so sorry, baby...” he said softly. “I never should have left that night. Please forgive me.”

You sniffed and looked up at him, tears still rolling down. “When grandma told me what you had done, I was so angry at you for leaving. But then I realized I wanted to be like you. Brave and loyal to a fault. McGonagall says I resemble you two so much that it is actually scary.” You laughed softly.

He smiled and wiped away your tears.

“I will be right back,” you said and left the room to change after sitting in silence for a few minutes.

He smiled softly to himself, knowing that his daughter had missed him just as much as he had. It gave him peace knowing that you had forgiven him. He was going through the story books when he realized that you were not 2 years old anymore. He couldn’t read you bedtime stories anymore.

“There are a few photos I need to know more about,” you said from behind him, as if reading his mind. “You can tell me about them.”

He nodded and ran off to get the photographs from downstairs. You placed the box in front of him and settled into bed, waiting for him to begin.

He chuckled at the collection of pictures your mother had. “These were my friends,” he said, handing you a photo of 4 boys with arms around each other, laughing to the camera. “Peter was a friend, too,” he said sadly.

“Tell me more,” you asked, your eyes full of excitement.

He laughed and began an elaborate tale of the Marauders in Hogwarts, reminiscing all their pranks and memories. Somehow, talking about them with you was not as painful as it was with others or when he was by himself and he wouldn’t want it any other way.

By the time he was done, you were already asleep. You had not completed the story behind even one photograph. He chuckled softly and tucked you in, kissing your forehead.

Now that he was finally home with his daughter, he was not going anywhere ever again.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

illicit affairs

pairing: sheriff lee bodecker x younger! reader

warnings: smut (18+), cheating, age gap

a/n: i love perfumes which smell of daisies so i made the reader use something like that. i do imagine her going for a very much female appearance and aura despite her personality and i can see lee fancying that sort of fragile femininity look paired with her independency. this song is based of illicit affairs from taylor swift but i was also listening to all too well at some points so i think some of that passed onto the writing. hope you enjoy xx

> DRESS

Leave the perfume on the self that you picked up just for him so you leave no trace behind like you don’t even exist. Take the words for what they are a dwindling, mercurial high, a drug that only worked the first few hundred times ... And you wanna scream don’t call me “kid”, don’t call me “baby”, look at this idiotic fool that you made me. You taught me a secret language I can't speak with anyone else. And you know damn well for you I would ruin myself a million little times ...

The snow settled onto the ground, a view she could see from her white window. Sprawled against her window pane, the blue soft fabric of her dress cascaded down her body as she watched the snow fall and become one with the mass of white covering the once green grass of her home. Her feet dangled in anticipation, hair cascading into hairdresser set curls, held away from her face with a pearl barrette. Her fingers dangled across her collarbones, feeling the cold matching pearls which unlike her barrette clip, had been offered to her by Lee on thanksgiving. “A pretty girl like you deserves her own pearls” his voice echoed in her mind whenever her feeling felt the smooth irregular circle shapes of the pearls laying against her collarbones. There was nothing more than she wanted than to wear those pearls to the police winter ball, to show up wearing something he had bought for her with what money he gathered from his fickle Captain position, but she couldn’t. Everyone knew what she had, what jewellery she had, it was all valued at the insurance centre downtown and the pearl necklace definitely wasn’t. Her own pearls rested inside her ivory jewellery box along with the ribbon she was wearing around her waist when she first kissed him, and the comb that held her hair in place whenever she met him during windy nights. 

Her grandmother had left before her, leaving with the grocery shop owner as her date for the ball but she had stayed behind. She had told her she’d rather go alone, blaming her loneliness on the fact all the boys her age were either engaged thus going with their wives and the single ones not wanting to do with her. Of course that was further from the truth and as she watched the snow fall, she imagined Lee’s cruiser driving through the snow, stopping in front of her home and knocking on her door to take her. But those were nothing but impossible scenarios created from the deepest part of her psyche. Looking over her shoulder, the clock on her bedside table shone 9PM into bold red letters. She should get going before her grandmother got worried. Her eyes lingered across her beauty parlour to the silver platter with her perfume, the one she’d picked just for him after hearing how much he loved the smell of daisies. She had to leave it, she couldn’t put any perfume on, she couldn’t take her pearls, she doesn’t exist. At least, she as Lee’s lover does not exist for all that everyone could know and nothing hurt more than the sound of her pearls returning to her ivory box. It was were they belonged, away from everyone, hidden, a mysterious sin secret. 

With her white fur wrapped around her arms, she entered her glossy yet dull red car, pulling the hood up despite the weather. She wanted to feel the cold, she wanted that numbness to hide what she had been feeling for the last months. It was all so exhilarating when it began; the summer walks, laying in the middle of the forest in an old towel as he feed her ripe strawberries, escaping from her grandmother’s house at night and meeting him up under the apple tree in light dresses. However, at time wind down, she started to crave the rest of a relationship, the holding of hands. Instead what she got was clandestine meetings in parking lots, behind the bars or in the middle of the forest when no one could see them. She constantly told herself it was going to eventually be her turn, he was gonna leave Jane for her. Yet, she seemed to constantly fall on the same error every mistress before her did, the mistake of forgetting her place. Stopping in front of the old town hall where the ball was being held, she could see the soft lights, hear the laughter and it made her sick. She didn’t want to go in, she didn’t want to see those happy couples but she had too. She had to put up a show, be the little pedestal trouble starter woman she was expected to be and so she would. 

Stepping into the hall, her eyes immediately found Lee in the corner speaking with the Sheriff, arm draped over Jane’s shoulder while the other hand held a clear cup probably with his favourite drink. Her heart sunk to the same place it always did as she got lost in the dance floor. She knew everyone in this town hall, from the first boy she ever kissed Jonah and his third wife Elizabeth to Billy whom had been prom king with her. There was nothing new anymore and what once felt new and true was now anchoring her inside a fishbowl of images of her own mistakes and unfulfilled life needs. 

      - Hey, Y/N. - Billy called out for her attention. She held onto the fur wrapped around her for comfort as she prepared her facade of a happy girl at a happy party. - Your grandma told me you ain’t gotta a partner for tonight. Could’ve told me, I would’ve taken you. 

      - It’s ok, ain’t like I need a man. - she replied, almost angrily although he deserved no anger from her. - What’s the stage for? We’re getting a band tonight?

      - No, the new sheriff candidates announcing themselves tonight. Prepare for the blood bath. 

      - Sounds interesting. - she spoke out, her voice getting mumbled out as the mic’s sound hurt her and everyone else’s ear. The police chief stood there in his best attire, holding a small piece of papers, his fat thumbs hitting the mic to gather everyone’s attention. He already had their attention merely by wearing a cowboy’s hat with a formal suit. 

       - Now folks, we all now how much we gonna miss our good old Sheriff but it’s time to elect a new one. - his southern accent was pronounced, too pronounced, cartoonish even. Y/N remembered laughing as a child when she first heard him speak only to immediately shut up when her grandmother looked her way with a look which left room for no questions. She herself had barely developed an accent, her grandmother still very keen on instilling in her the education she herself had gotten. However, the longer she spent with Lee, the more it would sometimes slip; one or two words, nothing major. - Of course, Leroy is running again.

     - I don’t know why he tries. - Y/N whispered to Billy, concealed laughing smile behind her hand. 

     - You gotta admit it’s a good thing to imagine. Damned Leroy and his prostitutes running the town? We’d be forgotten by God.

     - We’re already forgotten by God. We were banished from the garden of Eden, don’t you remember? - she teased, always enjoying to toy around with the religion Knockemstiff was so hang up on. - We’re probably direct descendants. 

     - You ought to keep that mouth shut if you don’t wanna get in trouble. - he warned yet it went through deaf ears. Y/N liked stirring it, specially when it came to things which were so analytically flawed. 

The regular list of candidates continued to go from officers to common folk who all believed they could make the town better. At least that was all they said they wanted to get some votes but at the end of the day, they just wanted to control the town with an iron fist. Do what they wanted without anyone question it. She couldn’t blame it, humans are hardwired to go crazy for power and let it consume them so she just let it pass. She knew all the candidates, they were always the same. Leroy, Matthew, Edwards ... all the common ones, she even wondered why they kept announcing it. Those three competing for the sheriff position was as certain as the sun coming up each morning. 

      - The last candidate is our cap’tain Bodecker. - her head snapped to the stage as every sound seemed to dim until she was surrounded by pure silence. All she could hear was the buzz from her ears as she watched him climb up the stairs to the stage, shaking the chief’s hands. 

Everything seemed to be stuck in slow motion yet her mind was running faster than a shot bullet. The clapping was slow, everything was silent yet she could see their hands slowly clap and their lips moving in whispers. Her eyes roamed the crowd finding Jane right in front of the stage, looking up at him with adoration at the possible place she could possible hold; the sheriff’s wife. The slow motion ended with a loud crash and suddenly everything seemed just too fast. She ignored Billy’s pleas for her attention and moved straight to the small plastic tables covered in burgundy towels to make it look fancier where all the drinks and food were being held. One of her only friends from high school Mary was the one in charge, happily serving food and drinks to anyone who asked.

     - Hi Y/N. - she always looked like the perfect housewife and that was always what she wanted to be. Beautiful, bountiful blonde hair with a few flowers matching her pink dress. Despite it all, she was always nice to her even with their different life goals. 

     - Hey Mary. How’s Paul? I heard from rumours you two had quite a nice honeymoon. St.Louis, right? 

     - Yes. He booked us a nice honeymoon suite, it had flowers and those heart shaped beds and chocolates. It was real nice, I’m hoping to be pregnant soon. What about you? Your grandmother said you came alone. You could’ve told me, my brother would’ve taken you.

    - That’s alright, Mary. I don’t intend to stay for long ... Uhm, can I have a drink?

    - Of course. Sidecar, as per usual? 

    - I think I’ll just have a double cognac, please. Or maybe some gin ... whatever can make me dizzy the fastest.

    - Everything, okay?

    - Just need to forget some stuff, it’ll be okay. - she forced a smile. At least half that phrase was true. Mary served her up with her best gin and she returned to the dance floor, trying to blend with the rest of the attendees, however her baby blue dress was much too different from anything else in town. 

Y/N thought she’d be best outside where no one could see her and so she left, avoiding Billy who kept asking for her. She leaned against the old wood of the town hall, mascara running down her cheeks, and gin glass on the other one. She looked like the perfect warning tale of why you should not mess her married men. She knew better, she knew so much better but she still did it, like the idiotic little fool she seemed to be. Y/N sighed, the air condensing in the air as she drank from the glass.

     - Pull yourself together, Y/N. - she looked to see side, her grandmother standing outside with the look she used to give her when Y/N embarrassed her as a little girl. - What did you expect?

     - I’m just not having a good day, nana.

     - You’re hanging around with Captain Bodecker that’s what you’re doing.

     - What?

     - Don’t play innocent with me, Y/N. You’re just like your mother and I’ve raised your mother so I’d know. I saw you leave in his car last week. Do you want to defend yourself?

     - Is it even worth it? - she took a sip out of her drink. - What do you want me to say? 

     - I want you to pull yourself together and go inside. You better have this finished off before those elections start. I will not have my granddaughter be a home wrecker.

Y/N ignored it. There was nothing her grandmother could say that hurt more than what she was already feeling. She watched the snow fall from the cover of the banner covering the town hall, cold and icy yet somehow warmer than her. The drink didn’t last forever and although it was much stronger than what she was used to, she didn’t feel the slightest bit dizzy. It was if the universe was punishing her for her choices. She shook her head, leaving the glass onto one of the windows. She’d be better off at home and she’d already made her appearance. If someone asked where she was, she could’ve blamed it on their drunkness. Opening her little clutch, she started fishing for her keys through a sea of change, makeup and receipts. 

    - You better not be thinking of driving after you just drank. - she turned her head to see Lee with his hands on his waist, playfully smiling at her. His smile faded as he noticed the streaks of mascara from her eyes to her jaw. - Did that shithead Billy say something? 

     - No ... Lee, I wanna go home okay. - she sighed. - Can you just pretend you didn’t see me drink?

     - I was hoping we could spend the night together. Rent a hotel room outside town. A real nice place, with a pool and some room service. My treat of course.

     - I ... We can’t, Lee. Your wife is inside as she’s gonna notice you’re not there and you’re not home. 

     - She’s going home early. Jane’s been taking a few sleeping pills. She’s down for the night, won’t even notice. - he took a few steps closer to her, knowing everyone was too drunk to even remember. - I was waiting for you to come greet me, congratulate me. I can’t believe my girl wanted to leave before showing me how pretty she looked. 

     - You didn’t tell me you were running for Sheriff. - he cupped her face, thumb caressing her cheek. - You said it was a silly position.

     - Yeah but ... it’s a Sheriff. I could become Mayor, ya know. The old sheriff thinks I’d be good for it. - he scratched the back of his neck, something he always did whenever he was nervous or was confronted by something he did not expect. Y/N had learned to read him and knew him better than her own favourite books. - C’mon, kid. It’s a night worth celebrating, don’t you think?

     - Don’t call me kid. - she shot her head his way, his word hitting a particular hurt spot which she didn’t realise she had. 

     - Hey, I’m not trying to mock ya. - he rose his hands. - What’s wrong, huh baby? Hm? Tell me sugar, I hate it when you’re upset. Besides, if it was that Billy kid I’ve been wanting to give him a good beating.

    - Don’t call me baby, either. - she sighed, throwing her purse inside the car, before turning to him. - Billy didn’t do anything I’m just ... tired.

    - I’ll drive you home, then.

    - I don’t wanna go home either. - she pushed her hair from her forehead, looking at the ground. The snow engulfed her feet and her shoes, yet it might as well have engulfed her entire being. Lee noticed her lip trembling and how her free hand was trying to stop tears from falling down. He looked behind him, the town hall door shut, before taking his jacket off, draping it over her shoulders, and opening the car door for her. 

 Y/N daren’t look him in the eye, instead sitting in the passenger seat as he pushed the hood of her car up. After all, most people did not enjoy driving in the snow with the hood up. She didn’t know where he was taking her and for all it mattered she didn’t want to know. If he was driving her to her killing location, it sounded much better than having to work out through the bubbling feelings in her tummy. Y/N didn’t even noticed how much she was crying until the tears started streaming so fast they were falling onto the palms of her hands like diamond daggers. She leaned her head against his shoulder, watching the road ahead through the blurry orbs of her own eyes, trying to find some warmth through him. The drive seemed endless and her mind rushed in an even more endless way as she considered all her choices til now. She found it unbearable how not guilty she didn’t feel about it. She could still remember the feeling of the cold water against her body and his lips against hers, being tangled in his bed sheets while he drank a beer, his grunts as he thrusted into her inside his patrol car. She remembered every detail either it being lust or romantic but most importantly she remembered how he looked at her. It was almost as through rose coloured glasses, most of the times agreeing with her pessimist view of the town she was in. Lee looked down on her, watching her perfect hair break through the gelled curls she had set down. He never liked the polished look anyway, he loved to see her walk in her white dresses and freshly washed hair flowing with the wind. This woman sat next to him was gorgeous but he preferred his Y/N, he preferred the woman who would poke fun of casualty and rush into the woods with her nightgown. This woman next to him was pretty yes but she seemed tainted by a sadness he could see yet couldn’t help. He didn’t want his Y/N to be the slightest bit sad. She did not deserve it. She was too pure, too young to be consumed by the loneliness, darkness and sadness that came with being an adult. Yet again, he had to start learning the young woman she was wouldn’t stay young forever. He wanted to know how to help. he wanted to be the man who wakes up next to her on summer mornings and winter evenings but life is not how we plan it out to be.

She watched the snow fall from her window as “You are my sunshine” played on the background from her radio. Looking up to him, his eyes were glued to the road, the sign of leaving Knockemstiff way past them and the hotel on the horizon. She called it the Heartbreak hotel, with its red walls and luxurious nature. A more fancy place for those who wanted to give a better night to their mistresses but that was not why she called it the heartbreak hotel. It was due to the fact she ended up crying every time she or he left. While inside those walls, she could pretend they were Mr. and Mrs. Bodecker, young couple moved out of Knockemstiff on a romantic getaway yet she wasn’t Mrs. Bodecker, Jane was. She had seen who the future sheriff’s wife was and it was not and it would never be her. He stopped the car in the parking lot, looking at her who was lost in thought, leaned against his shoulder.

   - Come on, sugar. What is it? - Lee kissed the top of her head. - The heck happened in that Town Hall?

    - Just being silly, Lee. - she shook her head, faking a smile. - Just don’t like parties one bit.

    - I hate ‘em too, sugar. All show no action. Besides no party is a party without my baby. - he hooked his ring finger under her chin, softly pulling it up. She tried not to look at the moonlight illuminating the silver band around his finger, a symbol he belonged to someone else and she knew it. She had seen the wedding photo on his secretary, a much younger Lee with a much younger Jane with the facade of a happy marriage. Thinking about it always made her sick and ever since seeing that picture she couldn’t bring herself to do so. - Come on, let’s get you a bubble bath, yeah?

She followed him into the hotel almost in a zombie like state until the reception. The talk was a dance she had danced before, it was all the same. Lee would present money in cash so it wouldn’t show up on his credit card statement. He would sign in with a fake address but with his own name and no one would question it. After all, the staff wanted money, they didn’t care if it was an illicit affair or not. To be honest, she didn’t care much anymore.

     - Mrs. Bodecker? Mrs. Bodecker? - the receptionist called out to her but it didn’t even register until she was looking her into the eyes. Mrs. Bodecker, she was definitely not. - Would you like a complementary tea? You look cold.

     - No, it’s okay. - she smiled while Lee grabbed the keys. His hand wrapped itself around hers, leading her over to the elevator.

God, she wanted him. She really did, he thought to himself. It was an unbelievable feeling to have someone who loved him back, someone who always had encouraging words to tell him, someone who would stay after a fight. He thought and imagine what it would’ve been like if she was born earlier, god he would’ve courted her and would’ve married her the second they were out of high school. Sadly, the woman he loved was born 10 years after and he met her when he was married. He led her to the 13th hotel room and closed the door behind them.

     - Things are gonna be different when I’m sheriff. No more sneaking around, no one will dare  say a word. I can move to Brewer Heights, heck, I can buy two houses, one just for you and me.

    - Lee ...

    - Where are your pearls, sugar? You know I love to see you with them, makes you look so pretty.

    - You know I can’t wear them in public, Lee. I am not your ... - she shouldn’t say that, she should not let those words out. - They’re not insured under my name, people would comment about it.

     - You worry too much. - he pushed the fur that covered her arms down, placing a small kiss on her elbow. - My little over-thinker.

     - One of us has too, Captain Bodecker.

     - How about some champagne? - he pointed towards the champagne bottle in the ice bucket by the dresser before walking towards it, raising it so he could inspect the brand. He longed for the finest things in life, no longer wanting to be that middle to low class man he’d been forced to be. Being Sheriff, Mayor someday was going to be really something, it’d be his chance.

    - I’m not 21 yet, Captain.

    - Only a month til you are, kid. - he filled two long crystal flutes, handing it over to them. - By then I should stop calling you kid, huh?

    - You shouldn’t call me kid, now. - she took a sip of the golden liquid, hoping it would take away her jealousy. Lee hummed, leaned over to kiss the crock of her neck, climbing up to her jaw in a move that was sure to leave marks. It was okay for him to leave marks on her, she was unmarried, young but on him? Sometimes she wanted to, sometimes she wanted to mark his pale plump skin as a possession, one that screamed Jane might have the wedding ring but she had the man. Yet, she couldn’t. - You look so handsome tonight.

    - You’re my worse critic. - he smirked, placing his glass on the bedside table before pulling her chin towards him, placing a soft kiss on her plump, painted lips. - God, you can’t even imagine how fucking hard I got when you walked in.

    - Such gentle behaviour. - she teased, fingers lightly tracing the skin of his face. He moaned, leaning in to kiss her again. - I wore it just for you. Blue. I knw you like it.

    - You’re always such a good girl for me. - he started to remove his jacket, pushing on her chest lightly so she laid against the luxurious bed.

The alcohol sure did a better job than her about making her forget what she was doing it. The alcohol and his kiss, his touch on her skin made her forget the clench in her heart when she saw Jane Bodecker clap once they said his name. It made her forget she couldn’t hear perfume around him unless he showered, it made her forget. Both of her moaned through the kiss, seemingly unconcerned with the fact that it was a sin. Maybe that’s why it taste so sweet, the sin, the thrill. None of them cared really and all he wanted to do now was hold her, touch her, look at her.

    - You are so beautiful. - he spoke, more to himself than to her specifically, leaning down on the bed as he spread her legs, taking his place in between them which was so familiar to him. Lee ran his knuckles through the middle of her folds, cold hands making her shiver. - Ev’ry darn day I wake up and I think, I got myself the most beautiful woman in the world.

Her eyes were glued to the ceiling, the white paint of it engulfing her as his hands caressed her thighs. All she could feel were his cold hands massaging the skin of her thighs, spreading them apart and giving him full access to her. His lips attacked her core, always chapped which made her feel so good, it made her know it was him giving her that pleasure. She moaned out loud as he dwelled in like a starved man, her head relaxing against the pillow. There was never any mercy with him, he teased her like he owned her, focusing on her clit while licking her folds. He had her exactly where he wanted her - starving for him.

   - You’re gonna see. - he mumbled out while he relentlessly ate her out. - When I’m sheriff there will be no more hidin’. No one gonna dare say anythin’ about it.

   - Lee, please ... no foreplay. - she whined, begged even as he stopped his motions. His eyes curiously searched for hers, hands pulling his body up as he stood on top of her. - I just want to feel you.

   - Weren’t you feelin’ me, sugar?

   - You know what I mean, Lee. - she wrapped her hands around his neck, head cocked to the side. - I don’t want any foreplay today.

    - Oh sugar ... - he chuckled leaning down to kiss her collarbone. - You’re just a cock slut for me, aren’t ya? Can’t just wait for me to treat ya right ain’t it, baby?

     - Lee, please. - she whined, hands wavering over his police issued chunky belt. Lee smirked, holding her hand before she could do anything. Y/N pouted, head leaning against her shoulder. - C’mon.

   - But baby, you look so pretty when you’re begging. - he returned to kiss her neck, leaving marks which were sure to become hickeys tomorrow but she didn’t care. No one was going to see it. - I was expecting you to come congratulate me in the way you always do, maybe in the back of the town hall. Hoping someone would catch us so they’d see you’re my girl.

    -  Lee ... -  she whined as he kept kissing her neck and collarbones. - Please.

    - Tell me what you want, baby. You know I do everything you want. - he rose from her neck, toothy grin as he leaned down to kiss her plump, pink painted lips. - Tell me you want my big fat cock. I know you do, baby. Tell me how much you need it. 

  - Lee ... please, need you.

  - You have me, baby, tell me what you need. Tell me what you want. - his knuckles ran through the middle of her folds again. - You’re so wet, baby. Just tell me what you want, c’mon

  -  Lee ... please. - she looked at him with those wide eyes that could get someone to commit murder for her, as he pushed down his trousers. - I want you to fuck me with your ... big fat cock, Capitain. 

  - Oh, baby ... - he leaned his forehead against hers as he pushed his cock past her entrance, eyes shut tight  as he tried to keep himself sane at the mere feeling of her walls contracting against him. His lips found hers as he shed himself fully into her. Her hand searched for his, as Lee slowly rolled his hips against hers, basking in the mere high that was being inside of her. - You okay, baby? 

  - Yeah. ... fuck, move. - she whined as he removed himself from her and pushed back in, slowly starting to rock into her as he always did. The little tease. Her hand clenched his as he speed up his thrusts, lips returning to hers in a messy, moaned filled kiss. All she could hear was the sound of skin against skin and interrupted breathing. - Lee, fuck.

  - I know, baby. - he laughed, returning to kiss her the way he liked as her walls started to clench more forcefully against his member, milking him for all he was worth. His free hand grabbed her hip as he further sped up against her, bruising her skin as his breaths got more raggedy. He bite onto her neck as he felt his control over his own orgasm disappear. 

  - Lee, fuck! - she moaned, almost raising off the bed as her own orgasm washed over her. Her head fell against the pillow, sluggish as he continued to thrust into her until ropes and ropes of cum painted her walls. He chuckled mid grunt, holding her against him as he turned around in bed. 

  - You all fucked up, aren’t ya, sugar? - he kissed the top of her head. - You’re gonna see, sugar. Things are gonna be so much better.

  - Right ... - she cuddled against his chest. - Hm ... Lee can you drive me back home early on?

  - Early shift?

  - Yeah.

  - Okay, sugar.

The morning was a harsh breaker of dreamy hazes and just like that she was back to the place where she always was, in her home, surrounded by the scent of the perfume she had bought just for him. She sat on her dress, taking the necklace he had given her from the little mother of pearl seashell shaped box and holding them against her chest. She loved him, she really did. Some people had their downfalls and hers was painted onto her neck and held by her hands. He was her downfall. 

The sun was high up on the snowy midday in Knockemstiff and once again Lee had been resigned to desk duty after the Sheriff not taking it too lightly he decided to run without his permission. Normally he would’ve been upset but he knew, he knew he was close to winning and then he could throw away those stupid hotels and just get her a little house close to him. God, he couldn’t fucking wait.

    - Captain Bodecker, someone here for you. - his secretary knocked on his door. - Mary Gillies, sir. 

    - Mary Gillies? - he knew her to be a friend of Y/N’s, perhaps her only friend other than that punk Billy. - Send her in.

    - Good afternoon, captain. - she said as she walked into his office. - I’m so sorry to be bothering but Y/N ...

    - Is she alright? - he interrupted her.

    - Yes, well ...  - she rummaged through her bag to find a cushioned envelope with his name on it. - She told me to give you this.

   - What is it?

   - I don’t know, captain. I must get going, my husband is waiting for me.

   - Of course. Thank you, Mrs. Gillies.

He waited for the woman to be out of his office and for the door to be shut for him to open the envelope. The minute he opened the envelope, pearls fell into his desk, the same pearls he had given Y/N followed by a small note in the dusty pink stationary that normally laid on her dresser. Turning it around, he saw the words he’d been dreading to read or hear ever since he met her. I’m sorry, Lee. He threw the letter on his desk before getting up from his desk as fast as he could, ignoring the calls from his colleagues as he got into his cruiser. Damned, Brewer Heights, why couldn’t it be closer?

He approached her home fast and closed the door as fastly as he ran up to the door. Her hag of a grandmother was possibly at church and he had learned where they kept the spare key; behind a violet pot. His heart was beating as fast as a deer on a hunt as he climbed up the stairs and found the once filled room was empty, with only a perfume bottle on her empty dresser. He observed the whole room as if he were in a nightmare, sitting on her bed as he clenched the pearls he had given her not so long ago, the smell of daisies in the air as some song played on the still turned on radio.

You never know dear how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away ...

taglist: @lookiamtrying​ 

[emospritelet]

Twisted Fate - chapter 28/28

Last time, Belle made up with her father, and Gold and Neal had a heart to heart. After all the crap I've put these idiots through, I'm pleased to say that they get their HEA. This is it :)

[AO3]

x

Gold waited for Neal to call Emma, pacing nervously in the hallway as he did so. He tried not to listen to the one-sided conversation, the ‘okay’, the ‘yeah, I know’, and the ‘I guess we’ll see’. Despite their hug, and the tears that had been shed, Neal still sounded cautious. He supposed that was only to be expected; Neal had taken less than a day to consider the matter, and there were tests to be done before paternity could be confirmed, after all. Gold had been honest when he said the outcome didn’t matter to him, but after decades of thinking his father hadn’t even known of his existence, it would matter to Neal. How could it not?

He was pleased that Neal had agreed to come to brunch, and to invite Emma and Henry along with him. It was unlikely that Henry would be told at this stage, but there would be time for that. Neal was willing to talk to him, and to let him get to know his family. All things considered, it was a more positive outcome than he had anticipated. He was trying not to think about how Neal might react if the test came back negative.

The muffled sound of talking ceased in the lounge, and Neal entered the hallway, closing the lounge door behind him and shoving his phone in his pocket.

“Uh - they’re gonna meet us there,” he said, and Gold nodded.

“Right.”

“They’re not far,” added Neal. “We took Henry to the bookshop this morning, and I thought, since I was in the area - well, I thought I may as well stop by.”

“I’m glad you did,” said Gold sincerely, and Neal hesitated only briefly before nodding.

“Yeah,” he said. “Me too.”

The walk to the diner was made in relative silence, Neal’s hands shoved in his pockets as he sauntered along with his head down, seemingly lost in thought. Gold wanted to speak to him, but held back, feeling awkward and unsure of what to say. It was a relief to get to the diner and see Belle seated at one of the tables in the window, a book held open in front of her, pressed flat by the fingers of her right hand, with her left gently rocking Gideon’s stroller as she read. She looked up as they entered the diner, and her face broke into a beautiful smile that made him want to propose there and then. He pressed his lips together and told himself to bloody well wait until he wasn’t an emotional wreck.

“Hey!” she said, reaching out to touch his arm before squeezing Neal’s hand. Neal sent her a lopsided grin.

“Hey there, Mom,” he said, and she giggled, her eyes sparkling.

“Okay, that’s a little weird, not gonna lie.”

“You’re telling me,” he muttered, but he winked at her.

“Are you joining us for brunch?” she asked.

“Yeah, I asked Emma and Henry to come too.”

“Oh, great!” Belle looked from him to Gold and back again. “Does - does that mean..?”

“It means we’re having brunch,” said Gold easily. “And that Neal and I have agreed to take a test and get some answers.”

“Oh. Well, that sounds like a good idea.”

“Yeah, it’s - well, I guess we have to start somewhere, right?” said Neal, scratching the back of his head and pulling a face. Belle closed her book.

“And what better place to start than with cinnamon pastries and good coffee?” she said, and Neal chuckled.

“Wow, you really did become a mom.”

“Loving it so far,” she said, and patted the seat next to her. “Come on, sit down. They do the best Eggs Benedict here. And the pancakes are awesome.”

“One order of pancakes here,” said Neal immediately, taking a menu from her. “Emma’ll probably have the eggs, though.”

“Why don’t I get some drinks?” asked Gold. “Belle? Tea?”

“Iced, please.”

He nodded, smiling, and raised a hand to attract the attention of the waitress. One step at a time.

Their drinks arrived shortly before the rest of the family, Henry running ahead of his mother with a wide grin on his face, interrupting the conversation just as Gold was tentatively suggesting that they might want to visit Storybrooke one day.

“Hey Mr Gold!” said Henry excitedly. “Hey, Belle! I got a new book! It’s about a princess and a dark wizard!”

He waved a hard-backed book in the air, almost knocking Belle’s iced tea over, and she put a hand over the glass as Emma rolled her eyes with a sigh.

“It sounds wonderful,” said Gold, shooting Belle an amused look. “You can read some of it to me after we’ve eaten, if you like.”

“Cool! Can I have pancakes?”

“Take a look and see what you want on ‘em,” said Neal, and Henry flopped into one of the chairs and took the menu from Belle.

“Wow, they have different kinds!”

“I’ll take that menu after you, kid,” said Emma, sliding into the seat between him and Neal. Gold noticed her give Neal’s leg a reassuring squeeze and receive a pat on her hand in return.

“Dad, did you see these waffles?” Henry held up the menu. “They have strawberries and cream!”

“Yeah, they look good, huh?” said Neal. “Did you make a choice yet?”

“Not yet.” Henry bent his head over the menu again, chewing his lip, and Neal and Emma shared a glance.

“Henry,” said Neal. “How would you feel about going up to visit Storybrooke, in Maine?”

“What’s in Storybrooke?” asked Henry curiously, looking up.

“Belle used to live there,” said Neal. “And Mr Gold has a house there. A big one. He says we could stay over for the weekend with him and Belle sometime.”

“There’s a cabin, too,” said Gold. “It’s by a lake in the woods. Plenty of space to play.”

“Ooh! Can we have a barbecue?” asked Henry excitedly, and Gold laughed.

“Yes, we could do that,” he said. “Did you decide what you want on your pancakes?”

Henry wrinkled his nose.

“Actually, the waffles look really good,” he said. “Can I get one of those?”

“You can have whatever you like,” said Gold. “That goes for everyone. This is my treat.”

“That’s really nice of you,” said Emma.

“It’s been some time since I was able to treat anyone,” said Gold, catching her eye. “Looks as though I have a lot of lost time to make up for.”

Emma held his gaze, and nodded.

“You’re here now,” she said. “That counts for something.”

“Yeah,” said Neal quietly. “It counts for a lot.”

He too held Gold’s eye for a moment before turning to help Henry with his brunch choices, and Gold felt something loosen inside his chest, a sense of something that was almost relief beginning to spread through him. He glanced at Belle, and she was smiling at him, a soft look in her eyes that made him want to crawl across the table and kiss her. It was going to be alright. Everything was going to be alright.

-

Two years later

It was a bright and pleasant day in early May when Gold’s Cadillac pulled up outside the pink Victorian on the outskirts of Storybrooke. A U-Haul van was already there, Neal in dark jeans and a blue cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up, opening the back to reveal stacked cardboard boxes. Belle got out of the car, turning her face up to the sun with a sigh of pleasure as she stretched. It felt good to be back in Storybrooke at last, although she had loved the Boston apartment that had been their home for the past couple of years. Her studies were done, Gideon had just turned two, and they had decided to move back to Storybrooke permanently.

“God, someone open the damn door, I gotta go!”

Emma had climbed out of the U-Haul, almost waddling to the path, her hand on her swollen belly. She and Neal were due to have their second child in three weeks, and she had been grumbling about her discomfort for the past two. Gold followed her with his swift, limping stride, reaching the porch before her and fishing out his keys to unlock the door. She headed for the stairs immediately, not looking back, and Belle grinned, remembering her own frequent bathroom trips at that late stage of pregnancy.

“Here, you want a hand with the kids?”

Neal appeared at her side, grinning widely, and Belle smiled back.

“Could you get the stroller out?” she asked. “I can get Gideon.”

“I’ll get him.”

Gold had reappeared, pocketing the front door keys, and leaned in to kiss her with a smile before heading around to the other side to un-clip Gideon from his car seat.

“Here we are, Gid,” he said easily, lifting him out. “Welcome to your new home.”

Belle smiled as Gideon looked around, supremely unconcerned at the news. They had visited Storybrooke a number of times over the past two years, though not since before Christmas. She was looking forward to spending their next Christmas in the house with all their family, including Emma and Neal’s new little one. Though she could have done without the ‘Grandma’ title Henry had cheerfully given her.

Neal had taken out the stroller and unfolded the frame, and Gold put Gideon down, ruffling his hair absently.

“Guess I’ll start taking the boxes,” said Neal.

“I’ll help,” chirped Henry, appearing at his side.

“Don’t lift any of the heavy ones, leave those for your dad,” said Belle, as they headed for the van.

She turned back, watching as Gold reached into the rear of the car to un-clip the seat carrying their new baby daughter. Florence had been born in early April, and Gold was besotted with her. She stared up at him with wide, dark eyes, her head covered with soft brown hair.

“Here we go, my princess,” he said softly, a wide grin on his face, and Belle smiled as he clipped the seat into the stroller and closed the door.

“I’ll take her in and get her changed,” she said. “She’s probably due a feed, too. Would you warm the milk?”

“Of course.”

Gold scooped up the bag containing Florence’s baby things and hurried towards the house. Belle shook her head as he disappeared through the door, wondering where he got his energy after a restless night and a long drive with two small children. Gideon hurtled up the path after his father on sturdy legs.

“Gid, slow down!” she called.

He looked around at her, still running, and tripped, hitting the path with a thump as his arms tried to break his fall. A wail went up, and Belle sighed.

“I’ll get him,” said Neal.

He shifted the box he was carrying into one arm and went to scoop up his little brother. Gideon wrapped his arms around Neal’s neck, still crying, and Neal shushed him, bouncing him in the crook of his arm.

“Hey little guy,” he said soothingly. “You’ll be okay. See what happens when you don’t listen to your momma?”

Gideon calmed in his big brother’s arms, and Neal kissed his cheek.

“There, see?” he said. “All better. What do you say we go see Papa and get a nice cool drink in the kitchen?”

“Cookie?”

“If your Mom says so.” Neal glanced at Belle, who nodded, and he tickled Gideon’s ribs, making him squeal.

“Yeah, let’s get a cookie,” he said. “You’re getting bigger, huh? I bet you’ll eat as much as me at dinner.”

“Go see Ganny?” asked Gideon excitedly.

“Yeah, we’re going to Granny’s for dinner,” promised Neal. “You can show her your new book, how about that?”

“An’ cake!”

“Yeah, you can have some cake, too.”

Belle watched them head up the path, Neal balancing Gideon on his hip with the box in his other arm. She could hardly keep the smile from her face. In the past two years Neal, Emma and Henry had truly become family. At times she had caught Gold looking at his son with pride and something approaching disbelief on his face, as though he was half-expecting to wake up from a dream at any moment.

It hadn’t all been perfect, of course; there had been difficult moments as they went through therapy, and tears on all sides, but it had brought them closer together. Emma had even been talking about getting a job in Storybrooke sheriff’s office in a year or so, and Gold had offered to help Neal set up his own accountancy business. They hadn’t made a firm decision on the move yet, but Belle thought it was only a matter of time. Henry was certainly enthusiastic about the idea, and had already made friends with a couple of the local children. The thought of having her whole family in Storybrooke was wonderful.

She inhaled deeply, drawing the scent of cut grass and fresh flowers into her nose, and began pushing the stroller up the path towards their house. It was good to be home.

-

Belle licked her lips, fingers gripping the sturdy brass key and turning it. It moved smoothly in the lock, a satisfying click sounding, and she pushed open the door.

The library smelt of fresh paint and beeswax polish, the contractors having finished with the decorating the week before. The wooden floor and circulation desk had been polished to a high shine, empty stacks lined up, waiting to be filled with the collection of books that were stacked in cardboard boxes along the wall. Towards the back, there were folding tables and chairs, some sized for adults and some for small children. Belle intended to run some after-school and evening classes, and had already spoken to Mary Margaret about a collaboration with the school.

Stepping forward, her heels clicked on the polished wood, and she walked slowly towards the circulation desk, running a hand along the curved edge as she let her eyes roam around the space.

“Surveying your new domain?”

She smiled at the sound of Gold’s voice, and turned on her toes to face him. He was standing by the doorway, the spring sunshine silhouetting him through the glass, dust motes dancing in the air around him like fireflies.

“Where are the kids?” she asked, and he glanced over his shoulder.

“Emma and Neal are watching them,” he said. “I have you all to myself.”

He was grinning, and Belle shot him a level look.

“No hanky-panky in the library,” she said severely. “I want this place to be successful, and it won’t be if no one comes in because they’re worried about catching us in a compromising position.”

“You say that like it’s inevitable.”

“Do I need to remind you about David walking in on us in the pawn shop that time?”

Gold waved a hand.

“The sign very clearly said Closed,” he said. “It’s not my fault he can’t read.”

Belle giggled, and turned back to look over the library. He stepped forward to stand by her side, eyes flicking over the freshly-painted walls.

“It looks good,” he said. “All ready for the inimitable touch of Storybrooke’s wonderful new librarian.”

Belle slipped her arm through his, resting her head briefly on his shoulder.

“I wouldn’t have it if not for you,” she said. “I’m still amazed you got the Mayor to agree.”

“Well, exerting influence is what I do,” he said. “Besides, she’s an intelligent woman. She knew the building was only standing idle. A relatively small investment of town funds was worth it to provide a valuable public service.”

“I certainly intend to make the most of the opportunity,” said Belle, turning back to run her eyes over the empty stacks. “I thought next Saturday for the grand opening. I’ve asked Granny to prepare some party food, and I need to make some flyers, design some activities for the kids…”

“Get some books on the shelves?” he teased, and she grinned.

“I thought you, Neal and Henry could help with that tomorrow.”

“Hmm.” He looked amused. “I suppose Emma shouldn’t really be carrying books in her condition.”

“She can supervise,” said Belle. “I’ll give her a crash course in the Dewey Decimal system and she can hold a clipboard and boss us around.”

“Sounds like something she’d enjoy,” he said dryly.

“You like being teased by your daughter-in-law, admit it.”

“Certainly not.”

He was grinning, and she turned on her toes to face him, twining her arms around his neck as she leaned in to kiss him gently.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “For believing in me.”

“Well, how could I not?” he said, his grin widening. “Miracles happen whenever you’re around.”

“Sweet-talker.”

“I never exaggerate,” he said gravely. “You should know that by now.”

“I know that I’m a very lucky woman,” she said, and he smiled.

“I’m the lucky one.”

-

The silvery chimes of the old music box played, and Gold crooned a low lullaby as he rocked his baby daughter in his arms. There was a faint sound of laughter and conversation from down in the kitchen, but Florence barely stirred as Gold kissed her forehead and laid her in the crib.

“Sleep well, my darling,” he whispered.

He took a step back, turning to the music box and winding the key to ensure the tune continued to play while she settled into sleep. The music box had sat in the nursery in Boston, playing its tinkling tune first to Gideon, and then to Florence. He was pleased to be returning it to Storybrooke, where he had first acquired it, and where he had painstakingly worked to restore it over the long months when he and Belle were trying to rebuild what was broken between them.

“Is she asleep?”

Belle was leaning in the doorway, and he looked up with a smile.

“Out like a light,” he said. “What about Gideon?”

“Fell asleep before I finished the story,” she said, and he smiled and held out a hand to her.

“Care to dance, Mrs Gold?”

She stepped forward with a smile, taking his hand as the other crept around her waist and pulled her close. He breathed in, pulling the scent of her in through his nose and sighing it out, and Belle let out a tiny noise of contentment.

“I’m so happy I met you, Alexander Gold,” she said.

“So am I,” he murmured. “I got a second chance with you, Belle. A second chance at life. I swear to you, I don’t want to miss a second of it.”

Belle raised her head, shaking her hair back off her shoulders.

“You won’t,” she said decidedly. “We’re going to have an amazing life together.”

“It’s already more than I could ever have dreamed of,” he said sincerely. “I have a beautiful wife who gave me two incredible children. I have my son back in my life, and a daughter-in-law, and soon I’ll have two grandchildren.”

“More family than you know what to do with,” she teased, and he chuckled.

“Oh, I think I could stand to have more,” he said, grinning, and Belle swatted his arm.

“Give me a year or two and we’ll see,” she said, and Gold laughed.

“Deal.”

Her smile grew, and she rested her head on his shoulder. The music tinkled on, and he held her close, feeling the warmth of her body against his as they moved in time. Life was beautiful.

[btsqualityy]

Heaven Sent; Part 6

Jin x Reader

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Warnings: Emotional manipulation (at least, that’s what I think it would be catergorized as).

Month seven was a month of exploration. After you and Jin admitted to being attracted to each other and deciding to try things out to see what happens, you were seemingly thrown into the deep end with how open Jin became after that.

You learned that he loves to cook, and that he would’ve been a chef if he hadn’t taken over the business end of his father’s restaurants. He double majored in both business and culinary arts, and he was Hae-il’s roommate and the first person that he met during their first year. He loves trot music, and you’ve unfortunately been on the receiving end of him serenading you with a song numerous times. He also loves video games and you were willing to bet that if he didn’t have to work, then he’d been stuck behind a computer screen playing games all day. 

There was just so much more to Jin and his personality that you never knew about, and you couldn’t believe that you found yourself liking him more and more as the two of you spent more time together. 

“Uncle Jinnie, can I get the songpyeon?” Aera asked Jin from her place perched on his shoulders and you couldn’t help but to laugh at the way that she pronounced the word. The three of you had met for brunch at a little café down the block from his office, where he had been doing some work.

“Little Heart, we’ve talked about this,” Jin chuckled as he patted her feet where they swung lightly by his chin. “Just say rice cakes.”

“But I’m a big girl and that’s what the sign says!” She shot back and you smiled as you looked up at her.

“Don’t remind me,” you chuckled. “You’re growing up too fast Love.”

“Can I get them uncle Jinnie?” Aera asked again, and you and Jin could both hear the impatience that had creeped into her tone so he rapidly nodded before turning to the cashier.

“Can we have two pink lemonades, an iced Americano, a songypeon and two dasiks?” Jin ordered and the cashier nodded. Jin then reached down, pulling his wallet out of the pocket of his slacks and taking out his card, handing it to the cashier. After he got his card back, the three of you moved further down the counter so that the next person behind you could place his order.

“I hope that we didn’t pull you away from anything too important,” you spoke up as you looked at Jin. 

“Nah, I was just filling out some paper work and signing off on some things, so it was mostly procedural stuff,” he told you. “And even if it were really important, I don’t mind taking a break for you guys.”

“It’s also Saturday, so you shouldn’t be overworking yourself anyways,” you smiled gently, trying to hide the way that your cheeks had warmed up from his words. 

“Order #353,” a voice called out and you and Jin stepped up to the counter, grabbing your drinks and snacks. After finding a small table in one corner of the café, the three of you sat down, Aera perched on Jin’s lap as she ate her rice cake. 

“Did you have a good week at school Little Heart?” Jin asked her and you watched as her little eyes widened.

“Yes,” she whispered and Jin looked down at her, his eyebrows raised in confusion.

“What’s wrong?”

“She had an issue with a boy in her class on Wednesday,” you told him and he looked up at you. 

“What happened?” He wondered.

“The little boy made a comment about Hae and Aera stomped on his foot and hit him in the stomach,” you revealed. 

“Aera,” Jin called disapprovingly and Aera’s head whipped up at the utterance of her real name from Jin. 

“It wasn’t my fault!” She exclaimed. “He said Daddy died because he doesn’t love me and I know that’s not true so I hit him!”

“Of course it’s not true sweetheart,” Jin cooed, lifting his hand and wiping away at the hot tears that had started to gather in the corners of her eyes. “Your Daddy loves you so much and he wouldn’t have left if he had the choice so that boy shouldn’t have said that. That doesn’t mean that you can just go around hitting people either though.”

“Mommy said the same thing,” Aera pouted.

“That’s because Mommy’s pretty smart,” Jin smiled. “So no more fights, ok?”

“Ok,” Aera nodded before going back to eating. 

“Thanks,” you said and Jin raised an eyebrow as he brought his cup of coffee to his mouth. 

“For what?”

“For backing me up,” you replied. “She’s always better convinced if more than one person tells her the same thing.”

“Just like Hae,” Jin laughed as he shook his head. “Anyways though, what do you guys have planned for today?”

“Me and Mommy are going to see grandma and grandpa today!” Aera interjected suddenly. 

“Your parents?” Jin asked and you shook your head.

“Hae’s,” you told you. “I think it’ll be good for her to see them, especially after what happened this week. We’re gonna go catch up and then Aera is gonna stay the night.”

“Good idea,” he agreed. “So does this mean that our regular Saturday movie night is cancelled?”

“Only this one,” Aera told him and he smiled before reaching down and tweaking her nose. 

“Good,” he said, making her giggle as you watched them fondly.

After finishing your drinks and snacks, Jin walked with you and Aera back down the block to your car. He put her inside, helping her strap herself into her booster seat before shutting the door and looking down at you.

“So, are you and me still on for our movie night?” Jin smirked and you reached out, smacking his chest lightly as you rolled your eyes. 

“You’re gross,” you giggled. “But yes, we’re still on. I’ll only stay with Aera for about an hour and then I’ll be home so you can just come over whenever.”

“Alright. I do have to finish up some stuff but I don’t think it’ll take me long at all,” he responded. “Still, I’ll text you when I’m on my way.”

“Ok,” you smiled and the two of you stood there in silence for a few seconds, just looking at each other. 

“Is she looking?” Jin asked and peaking your head around his arm, you saw that Aera was looking down at one of the books that you kept in the car for her.

“Nope,” you told him and suddenly, his lips were pressed against yours. You kissed him back, sighing contentedly before pulling away.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he whispered, and you nodded.

“Bye.”

......................................

“Oh, hi my baby!” Jin-joo exclaimed, leaning down so that she could catch Aera in her arms as Aera rushed up to her. You shut the car door, smiling as you walked up to the front steps of Hae-il’s parent’s house.

“Hi Y/N-ah,” Gun greeted you and you stepped forward, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before pulling back. “Is that little one’s bag?”

“Oh yeah, it has all of the things that she’ll need,” you nodded, pulling Aera’s small backpack from over your shoulder and handing it over to him.

“We still have some of her stuff here though,” Gun mentioned.

“I figured but she’s hit a growth spurt in the last two months or so,” you told him with a smile. “It seems like she outgrew every single piece of clothing that she owned all at the same time.”

“That just means you’re eating well huh?” Jin-joo smiled at Aera, who nodded rapidly in her arms. “Well, both of you come on in.” You followed behind Jin-joo and Gun, watching with a smile as they both helped Aera take off her jacket and her shoes. As you worked on taking off your own shoes and jacket, Jin-joo handed Aera off to Gun.

“Why don’t you show Aera some of the new things that we bought for her?” Jin-joo suggested and Aera’s eyes instantly lit up. 

“New toys?” She wondered excitedly.

“Why don’t we go see?” Gun chuckled, turning off and carrying Aera off down the hallway. Once they were gone, Jin-joo turned to you with a wide smile.

“Tea?” She offered.

“Please,” you nodded, following behind her into the kitchen. You sat down at the small table that was there and you watched silently as she grabbed a kettle, moving over to the sink and filling it with water before moving over to the stove. 

“How have you been getting along dear?” She asked you and you sighed lightly, thinking over your answer. 

“Honestly, I’m doing a lot better than I thought I would be after only 7 months,” you admitted. “I haven’t burst out crying in a good three weeks or so, which I consider to be progress.”

“That’s definitely good progress,” she chuckled with a soft smile as she moved to sit across the table from you. “And Aera?”

“Oh, she’s been doing amazingly,” you smiled. “Well, of course besides the incident on Wednesday.”

“I felt so bad when you called and told us about that,” Jin-joo sighed. “I bet she misses him so much.”

“She does,” you confirmed. A few seconds of silence passed over the two of you before you heard her take a deep inhale. 

“I have to say Y/N-ah, and I really hope that you don’t take extreme offense to this, but I began to think after you called Thursday,” Jin-joo began. “And I couldn’t help but to wonder if Aera acting out that way has to do with Seokjin?” Your eyes immediately widened at her words, not expecting her to say that.

“What would he have to do with that?” You questioned.

“Well, I know that she’s been spending an increased amount of time with him, with the both of you, together,” she corrected herself. “And with her being so young, I can’t help but to be concerned about what that’s doing to the memory that she has of her father.”

“Jin-joo, you’re skirting around what you really want to say, and I’d prefer if you would just say it,” you told her.

“Alright, fine,” she nodded. “In my opinion, it is much too soon or you to be moving on and seeing other men and Aera is clearly suffering from it.” You couldn’t help the chuckle that you let out then, the disbelief almost overwhelming you.

“First off, the relationship that I have with Jin isn’t anything like you’re thinking,” you said. “Secondly, you know me Jin-joo. You know I’d never do anything that would carry even the slightest risk of harming Aera in any way, shape, or form.”

“But you’re grieving, and grief can make us do things that we normally wouldn’t,” she noted.

“I can see that,” you replied tersely. 

“Look Y/N-ah, I’m only concerned about your and Aera’s well being,” she insisted. “Hae-il’s death has greatly affected all of us but more than anyone, it’s affected Aera the most. Now, I know Seokjin and I know he more than likely has the best of intentions but I don’t think it’s a good idea to allow him to get too comfortable in Aera’s life.”

“But he’s already been around since she was born,” you shot back. 

“Which makes it even worse that he’s pursuing you not even a year after her father’s death,” Jin-joo explained before exhaling harshly. “I’m going to ask you a question and I would like an honest answer.”

“Ok.”

“Did you love my son?” She asked and your jaw dropped slightly.

“Of course I did, and you know that better than anyone,” you spat harshly.

“Then for the sake of that and the sake of the wellbeing of my granddaughter, who is the only tie that any of us have to Hae-il, you should wait to involve yourself in any other relationships,” she advised you and you hated to admit it, but you really began to think about what she was saying. Things with Jin had happened very quickly and even though you had been concerned with how your relationship with him would look to others, it hadn’t been at the forefront of your mind.  

Even though you didn’t like how she approached the topic with you, you had to admit that just maybe....she had a point.

......................................

Your thoughts only began to run away with you even more after you left Hae-il’s parents house and made it back to your own. 

You never wanted your love for Hae-il to be doubted but you could understand why Jin-joo would ask you a question like that. You had been spending a lot of time with Jin but you had always justified it by saying that if he makes you and Aera happy, then there was no harm in having him around.

But did he really make Aera happy though? It seemed like he did and she definitely loved him, which no one with eyes could deny, but she was also an easily distracted 6 year old who would be happy if you gave her a sucker. You had to think about if having Jin around so much was causing her to act out or not, because maybe she felt like she was loosing touch with Hae-il and that was absolutely the last thing that you wanted. 

Once you got home, you decided that you wanted to be close to Hae-il so after taking a shower, you changed into a pair of his old jogging pants and one of his button up flannel shirts. After making yourself some ramen, you settled down with it on the couch, making sure to grab your photo album on the way. Grabbing a blanket, you pulled it over your lap and opened the photo album, choosing to look through some of the photos while you waited for your ramen to cool down. 

The very first photo you saw was from your and Hae-il’s engagement photo shoot, where he was sitting in a chair and you were standing behind him, your arms wrapped around his neck. Your engagement ring was on display, a dainty ruby rock that fit around your left ring finger perfectly. You’d always loved that ring, even sometimes favoring it over the gold wedding band that you exchanged with Hae-il a year after that engagement photo shoot. You hadn’t worn it since Hae-il died though, not being able to stomach looking at it for more than a few seconds at a time.

The next photo was of you and Hae-il on your wedding day, your eyes shining with tears as Hae-il read his vows to you at the altar. That day was amazing, the love that you were feeling for him almost overwhelming you at times throughout the ceremony. You laughed to yourself as you remembered how Hae-il almost spilled wine on your wedding dress at the reception later that night, getting slightly too tipsy on soju as he tried to whisk you around the dance floor.

As you continued to look through the photo album, you hadn’t even realized that tears had been welling up in your eyes until it rolled down your cheek and onto the photo album, splashing right onto a photo of you, Hae-il, and Aera that had been taken on her first birthday. 

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered. “I can’t believe that I even thought that I’d be able to do this.” As you continued to look through the album, your phone buzzed on the table and when you leaned forward to pick it up, you saw that you had a text from Jin.

“On my way out soon,” it read. “We still on for tonight?”

Biting your lip as more tears rushed down your face, you huffed harshly as you realized what it was that you needed to do. 

“No,” it stated simply. After making sure that it sent, you then turned your phone off, setting it back on the table before looking back down on the photo album. 

“I love you,” you whispered as you ran your finger over a photo of Hae-il holding a baby Aera and smiling brightly at the camera. “And I’m so sorry if I made you think that I didn’t.”

[teenyweenynightghost]

A breath of fresh air

 Chapter 2

Warnings: Anxiety, mental health issues

The summer passed slowly. Everyday my mother would drag me to a new place, either getting some medical tests done, or academic ones. She took me shopping for new clothes so that I could make her proud at my new school. As if that mattered.

I no longer managed to find myself within nature. I would get anxious when I tried to enter the forrest, or I would simply be so distracted I couldn’t even notice what flowers were around me. Same thing with photography. Nothing caught my attention, nothing seemed worth it anymore. The world was running around me, leaving me far behind, fallen on the ground.

The day I would leave finally came. The fight was no different to those I took when flying to my grandma, but this time I was scared. I wasn’t flying towards comfort and peace, but rather going to a whole new place, a land of uncertainty and doubt.

My cab pulled up in a gigantic driveway. I could see kids of all ages running around, talking and greeting new people. I started feeling anxious again, my breath was caught in my neck and i started suffocating in silence as my door suddenly opened. Outside stood an old woman, her face wrinkly and lean, looking at me with a soft gaze. “Why don’t you step out darling, I promise no-one here bites”. I tried to force a smile and push my way out. 

Now standing in front of her, I noticed that she was tall. Much taller than me. She was wearing a light blue blazer and a matching midi-skirt, with a white ruffled blouse underneath. Her hair was dark brown with streaks of gray, all tied up in a tight up-do.

“My name is Mrs Henson, i am the head-mistress of the school. You must be Aurora Gardner.”

“Yes, I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I reached out my hand and met hers in a tight shake.

“I’m glad you made it here safely. Now, there will be staff coming to pick up your luggage and taking it to your dorm. Meanwhile, I would like to introduce you to your roommate, who I’m sure will be nice enough to give you a tour of the campus.”

With that, we started walking. I noticed that the drive-way extended into a big circle, further being guarded by the surrounding buildings. It all looked old, but similar to the things you see in movies. The architecture, the atmosphere, the flowers. But I couldn’t focus on all that right now.

We made our way towards a green area, filled with students chatting. I saw a rose bush on the side, and tried to examine it. Before I realised, a girl came up to us and started talking to Mrs Henson. My attention slowly shifted to her, as she was smiling brightly at us. I think my whole face fell upon seeing her. Her bright blue eyes captured my own, her nose ring complimenting her face perfectly. Her hair was all different types of shades of blond, reaching a bit lower than her shoulders. She had a nicely kept fringe and wore large cross earrings. I would have lied If i said that was not the most beautiful girl in the world.

Caught up in my own thoughts, I felt her place a delicate hand on my shoulder. “You still here, puppy?” My face turned red at that nickname, and my mouth suddenly felt very dry. I couldn’t do anything other than slightly nod at her. Upon seeing my reaction, she smirked and hugged me. “My name is Victoria, but you can call me Vic.” She let go and fixed her gaze back at me. “I’m Aurora” I responded quietly, my mind having been shaken from so much contact. I loved hugs, but It brought back memories. It was reaction I didn’t even know I had developed until now.

“Alright” she chuckled softly, a devilish look in her eyes “how about I show you around.” Before I could nod again, she grabbed my hand and lightly tugged me towards the main entry, not letting go even after making sure I was with her. I felt red again, this time worrying about my hand being clammy as well.

The tour was not that long. She mentioned that we had the same classes so she would come with me everyday, thus not needing to show me the academic area today. Instead, she took me to the library. It was a gigantic room, lit by crystal chandeliers and torches. In the middle, there was a large staircase splitting into two, one side leading to more books, the other leading to a study area. While I was taking it all in, staring in awe at my surroundings, I caught her looking at me from the corners of my eyes, I turned my gaze towards her only to be met by her bright eyes once more. She smiled again and said “I knew you would like it here, puppy” Again, my face turned an embarrassing shade of red and my knees started feeling weak. What was wrong with this girl and why could she do this to me? I looked away quickly and made my way towards a book shelf, thinking that the only reason i felt such a spark in me when that girl talked was anger.

A few hours later, she finally took me to the Sleeping Area. We climbed up two flights of stairs, and made our way down a dimly lit corridor. She pulled out a key which clinked in her hands when it met her numerous rings. Unlocking the door, she stepped away and made me room to enter. I looked down as I passed her, feeling her hand on my lower back, guiding me inside. Once again, I was as red as a tomato. 

“I already took the bed on the left, and it surely does seem like a lot of work to move all my stuff again, so you can either sleep on the right one or sleep with me.” At those few last words, I I almost choked on my spit, and turning away so that she couldn’t see the clear effect she had on me. Nevertheless, I didn’t need to be facing her to know just how much she was smirking.

I wobbled towards the right side of the room and sat down on the bed, looking at the window above it. “This one is just fine.” I heard her snort before she retorted back “I was kind of hoping you would say the latter.” This girl had something with me. I just couldn’t tell what yet.

On the wall opposite to me, I noticed a tall wooden cabinet, next to which was my luggage. I opened it and took out my pyjamas and hygiene kit, before turning back to Vic. “Do you know where the bathroom is?” She lazily pointed towards a door in our room I had not noticed, and smiled at the annoyed expression on my face. “Well princess, now that you’re all settle down, I’ll leave you to it. I have to go practice with my friends.” With that, she gave me a wink and left the room. As soon as I was alone, the atmosphere changed. It was gloomier, and it reminded me of an empty room before you would move houses.

To my surprise, the water was warm and the pressure was pretty good. After finishing all my business in the bathroom, I quickly stumbled towards my bed and covered myself with the heavy duvet. I was shivering from the cold air trapped in the room, but I noticed it only helped me relax faster.

There were still so many things in my head, a permanent buzz plaguing my brain. I weary and troubled, but I had no place to go. I glanced up at the window, the stars barely showing, and a tear fell down my face. I missed my grandmother and her soothing words, the way she waited for me every night and reassuring me that I would never be alone. As I felt my consciousness slip away, I wished for one thing; to not be alone anymore.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

OK so here is chapter 2. I had fun writing it and I can’t wait to do the next one, where you will get even MORE vic stuff. and blushing of course.

LOve you babes and have a wonderful day

@fuckim-so-gay

[tae-cup]

Have a Merry Christmas :) - Yoongi

For: @yoongi-sugaglider​, Eommaaaaaaa 

From: Marria

Pairing: Musician!Yoongi x Author!Reader

Summary: The littlest of gestures have the biggest impact <3

Genre: Neighbors to Lovers, Strangers to Lovers, Fluff, It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas!

Warnings: Your heart may burst from the fluff, like a little language here and there. 

Rating: PG

Word Count: 3.8k Words

A/N: I am not Christian, but I have a lot of holiday spirit, okay? Also, Eomma I loved writing this for you. Honestly, it’s so cute and I love you and everything you do. You’re doing great and I hope this is what you were hoping for! Alexa, play All I Want For Christmas is You by Mariah Carey 

Other: Masterlist

       Moving was a long and laborious task. Your arms felt like jelly as you clutched the heavy box of dishes. You kicked open the door of your new apartment as it began to close behind the line of movers going in and out. 

“Need some help?” A low voice grumbled. Assuming it was your father, you just groaned and nodded. 

“God, I didn’t even know I had so many dishes! I’m pretty sure I just use the same ones. I should give some back to you and mom.” You complained. 

“That’s great, but I’m not your dad.” Ah, shit.

       In your defense, the box blocked a majority of your line of sight and you were a bit preoccupied. What you didn’t expect was to see a handsome man staring at you through narrowed eyes. A small smile tugged at his lips. 

       He wordlessly held open the door for you to get into the apartment and you didn’t say anything out of embarrassment. You set down the box and when you turned around to say thank you and apologize, he was already gone. The door next to yours clicked shut. 

        Great. It wasn’t the first impression you had wanted out of your next door neighbor. You pulled your hair into a ponytail and swiped at the building sweat. You needed to do something to get on better terms with your neighbor. Or maybe you were overthinking things way too much. You began to unpack the dishes while the movers brought in the couch. 

         After the dishes were put away, you went back out to help the movers. On your way out, you glanced at the heavy oak door that was close beside yours. You bit at your lip and turned back to head downstairs. You had wanted to knock, to apologize or just say something. 

      Something something something. You were always doing something. They called you quite the ‘fixer’ in your house. Being an author was not usually a great career choice, but one thing did stand out about you; when something was wrong, you fixed it. 

        Min Yoongi ended up being quite the enigma, as you were soon to find out. Ever since your first meeting, he had been cordial with you. In all honesty, though, he rarely left his apartment. You did figure out that he was a musician and studying in the music department at the local college. How did you find out? Well, you weren’t a stalker, okay, but you did overhear conversations from time to time. The walls were thin. 

       You had noticed how he rarely had any visitors, even during holidays, and a few times you had wanted to ask if he wished to join you for celebrations like New Years or Christmas, but you never did. You found out why he was alone about a year into living in the building. You didn’t speak to him, but there was some attraction to the unknown. 

       It had been Christmas. You were packing and preparing to leave your monotonous life to spend time with your family. It was your favorite time of the year. Warm fairy lights were hung all around your apartment and the smell of cinnamon candles was in the air. 

       You shoved the last of your clothing into the bag. You were decked out with ugly Christmas sweaters, beanies, and boots. Just as you were about to leave, you heard the shouting of muffled voices from next door.

       Neither of those were Yoongi. You knew because, well, he just never seemed like the type to yell in an argument. In all your interactions with him, leaving in the morning, riding the elevator, you knew him to be a quiet and introverted man. 

      The shouting grew louder and you wondered if you should go knock on the door and check in. You exited your apartment and walked the few steps to stand in front of his door. Hesitation filled your mind and you bit at your lip. After a few more moments, you decided against it. You turned and started walking down the hall to the elevator. 

      Suddenly, the door to his apartment opened and closed with a loud slam. You felt yourself jump at the loud noise and you twisted your head to look at the door. Yoongi, with his faded blonde hair, you had noticed he was into dyeing his hair a different color every month, was exiting his room. He took brisk steps, mumbling something about getting some fresh air. 

      You glanced at him as he strode into the elevator with you. He was running his hands madly through his hair in a constant rhythm. Then he took in a deep breath. The elevator already held winter’s frigid air and you could see the lightest of breaths puffing out from his mouth. 

“My parents.” He said simply. You nodded in understanding, connecting the dots. 

“I’m sorry about that.” You said softly. He finally looked at you. You remained still, watching as the numbers ticked downward. 

       After a few moments of his eyes roaming your face, he turned back to look at the metal doors. 

“It can’t be helped. Most parents wouldn’t want their child throwing away their life on trivial pursuits.”

“Trivial pursuits, hm?” Your heart thumped quietly in your chest. You remembered the look your parents gave you when you told them about your wishes to pursue writing. 

“I want to be in the music industry. You know, like those kpop producers?” 

“I see.” You hummed in acknowledgement. 

        The elevator slowed to a stop and the doors slowly creaked open. You hurried out, shouldering your duffle bag. The lobby was cold, the doors opening and letting a cold breeze in every time a resident entered or exited. Yoongi stepped out with you. This was the longest conversation you’d had with him for a year, it was oddly calming. 

       Yoongi was a listener and he took his time with his words. You reflected this in a way, but your support system was stronger. When you looked at his tired face, the way his lips pulled into a natural frown, you felt concerned. How was he holding up? 

“I think you should do what you want, Yoongi.” You said, walking to the entrance for the underground parking. He watched you go. 

“Don’t worry, Y/N, I am.” He said simply and turned on his heel, leaving for the regular entrance. 

       A few years passed like seconds. Your life was just flashing by your eyes. Schoolwork, your job, everything was the same. Each year you led a comfortable lifestyle, you even managed to get your book into the editing phase. More and more, your life and fascination with your neighbor had intertwined. 

      The words you wrote in your book became based on the intrigue of your mysterious neighbor. Who was he really? What did he do besides schoolwork? To you, it seemed he just sat inside and played piano until the early morning hours, just like he was doing now. 

       Christmas Eve was around once again and you were packing, once more, to go see your family. You wanted to leave extra early in order to spend more time with your grandma, whose health had been shaky lately.

      The sweet melody of silent night echoed through the quiet building. You glanced to your far left wall, trying to imagine him sitting at his piano, playing such a melancholic song such a happy day. 

      That’s when it really began; the notes. It started with a simple message scrawled messily on a sticky note. 

Have a Merry Christmas, yoongi. :) - Y/N

       You kept at it. Notes upon notes, everyday, 365 days. It gave you something to do and it was always a nice routine. You were sure he threw away each note and he never mentioned them when you stood in the elevator together either. It wasn’t anything bad. 

        They always just said simple things like Hope you had a good day today. Or Are you alright? Or, your personal favorite, Have you had anything to eat? The questions always ranged based on how you heard him enter his apartment. You tried your best to plan ahead, so you kept at least two in your pocket in case you forgot sticky notes. 

       You often thought over your feelings for him. He was nice, sweet, and on top of it, extremely handsome. You lazily wrote I like you one day on a sticky note and then crumpled it up, stuffing it into one of your pockets. Someday, someday. You told yourself. 

 “Whatcha got there?” You asked, eyeing the white grocery bag in his hand. 

       He stood next to you, as per usual, on the elevator. The elevator itself was old and slow. 

“Just some dried squid.” He said.

       You were quiet, which prompted him to continue.

 “They’re taking them out of stock this week and I don’t know how long until I can get them again. I don’t have time to go anywhere else. So I guess I’ve just got to stock up.” He explained quickly. You nodded, logging the information away into your brain. 

“Personally, I like Kyoho Jelly.” You said. 

“Ah, that’s good too.” 

       The next week, you went to another grocery store, and even though you weren’t a particularly big fan of dried squid, you bought several packages. For the next few weeks, you delivered your notes with a bag of dried squid. 

       Both you and Yoongi had rather...solitary ways of life. He spent his time holed up playing piano and you spent your time hiding in your room writing. In fact, you mostly had the same schedule as each other. It felt nice to have a companion on your short trips to and from school. Even if you didn’t say much, it was enough. 

         You ran into him on the elevator once more. He gave you a nod of acknowledgement and even managed a smile. You felt your cheeks heat up slightly. Who wouldn’t be flustered to speak to him? 

        Yeah, he had that nerdy, introvert, kind of look to him, but he had this mystery in his eyes, a coldness that could only be found through years of immense strength and resilience. You knew him to be dedicated. Your way of supporting him was by not knocking on his door when it was 1 A.M. and he was practicing the same piece for the hundredth time. 

       Yoongi held a folder of sheet music in his arms and you held your manuscript. The blonde looked at your arms. 

“You’re a writer?” He asked. 

“You could say that.” You shrugged and hit your floor number. You stayed still as he stepped in after you. 

“That’s...really cool.” He said awkwardly. 

        You were a bit surprised. You had expected him to be cool as a cucumber, very put together, but he seemed almost nervous as he stood beside you. He fidgeted quite a bit and averted his eyes away from you. 

“I guess.” You said softly, a warm feeling growing in your stomach. Then you bit your lip to keep from smiling.

 “I wanted to apologize about uh, the way we met.” You chuckled. “I didn’t know you weren’t, achem, my father.” 

          He looked away and you saw his shoulders shake with a silent laugh. Then he turned back to you. You saw a ghost of a smile left on his lips and he slowly let his face fall back into a neutral position. 

“It’s no problem.” He said stoically, then he broke character, “I found it quite...humorous and you’re cute so it’s no big deal.” 

        Then he flushed bright red and stumbled over his next words.

 “I mean, I-nevermind, this is awkward.” He rushed and took a deep breath. He released a sigh and you smiled at him. 

“Thanks.” You said gently. 

        The elevator dinged and you stepped out, waiting for him. Did he know about the notes? Why hadn’t he said anything? You glanced at his flustered face and decided against questioning him. He stepped out and began to walk with you in silence to your door. 

        You finally made your move. 

“Hey, I know I usually leave these on your door, but since you’re right here...I’ll just give it to you, okay?” You reached into your pocket and picked up the first crumpled piece you found. You handed it to him sheepishly and he took it, holding it carefully in his soft hands. 

“Thank you.” 

“It’s no problem.” 

He opened his door. “See you around.”

“See you-” the door shut. “-around.” You finished quietly. 

      You reached into your pocket and pulled out the other piece of paper. How’s your day? It read. Your face paled. Oh god, no. The only other paper in your pocket had been...I like you. 

         Your book had been slipping away from you. The editing process was tedious and time felt like it was getting away from you. Yoongi didn’t know about your book, he didn’t know how you wondered if he was alright, like some weird infatuation. It was normal to be worried about your neighbor, right? 

       On the subject of notes, you had gotten a rather harsh wake up call from your publisher. He had explained, in simple terms, that your book wouldn’t be successful. 

“The writing is okay, I guess, but what happened halfway through? I was sure the main character was going to end up with Brandon, so why does it so suddenly change? I think this will throw off readers looking for a cute romance novel.” He said, as if reading off a script. 

“But it’s realistic. You can’t fall in love and expect to be with the first man you lay eyes on.” You argued. 

“Look, Y/N, this is just supposed to be a ditzy romance novel. Don’t get into your head with metaphors and realism. That’s not what you’re good at and not what we signed up for. Thanks.” 

        And the call had ended just like that. Distressed was an understatement. You set your phone down on the counter and collapsed on the couch that lay next to the wall that connected Yoongi and your apartment.

          He was playing Nuvole Bianche, a rather sad song, and it pushed you to the edge. Everything was going wrong. Yoongi hadn’t even looked at you since you got the notes mixed up and you were sure he was purposefully avoiding you. 

        The tears began to stream down your face, painting your cheeks. The piano rose in intensity and a sob tore out. Years of work, and for what? 

      The disappointed looks on your parents’ faces, the raised eyebrows of your professors, all the words they had said to you in subtle jabs at your character, your career choice...were they true? Were they right? You curled in on yourself, sobbing loudly. You didn’t even notice the piano music halt. 

      The only sound were your sobs, the hopelessness that settled in your bones. Maybe you should just stop. Then, there was a melody. A soft tune that had waited for a quiet moment. You’ve got a friend in me. 

     The joyful piano contrasted that of your own despair. You lifted your head. Had he heard? Did he know? You swiped at your eyes as the tune grew louder. 

      You got troubles, and I got 'em too. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you. We stick together and we see it through. 'Cause you've got a friend in me. You've got a friend in me. The melody swept you up and carried you away. 

       You could breathe again. 

       The TV was turned up loud, blaring the message that had you sitting on the couch this Christmas instead of with your parents. 

“A large avalanche occurred late last night, blocking a major roadway from Seoul to Busan. Officials say no one was injured in this disaster, however this will prevent hundreds of people from returning home this Christmas.” The reporter said.

       You watched the screen, mind blank and eyes open. The screen itself was blurred to your vision and you were currently pushing away the harsh reality that threw a wrench in the happiest day of the year for you. You had no one. Still, in your misery, you blinked and stood. You had to do the one thing you knew how to do; write. 

      So you wrote. You wrote well into the afternoon. You wrote until your fingers cramped and your stomach growled with hunger. You wrote until you could hear Yoongi slamming his apartment door at the end of the day. 

     Your misery was on display on this blank white page. Wasn’t this supposed to be a good day? You bit your lip and looked to the far wall. Yoongi was silent. No piano music was heard. 

       In a split second decision, before your inspiration vanished and your mind became numb from writing all day, you jotted a few words down onto a sticky note. You surveyed the yellow paper. It was such a small square, but the words on it meant something. It was weird how words can mean so much. 

       You left your apartment, stretching out your back which had been hunched over your computer. You swallowed thickly and stuck the note down on the ground. You knocked and waited. No response. 

      You sighed and left, opening your door and slamming it shut behind you. You felt angry tears pricking at your eyes. It was stupid, trying to understand your handsome neighbor, trying to connect to such an obviously closed off person. 

       The sound of his door opening softly and closing made you stop. You checked the time. You had three hours to midnight, three hours to Christmas. 

       Yoongi hesitated, staring down at the little note. Have a Merry Christmas :) - Y/N

       He bent down and picked it up, the note reminding him of the first note last year. Of course he noticed the notes everyday, of course he felt grateful, happy that someone cared. It had been a long time since that happened. He flipped over the note. Nothing on the backside, yet the simple words seemed to taunt him. 

        The notes had made him feel...funny inside. Yoongi wasn’t all too great at figuring out what was going on in his head, he just plowed through life as fast as possible. He spent his time lost in work, piano, or sleeping.

       Your notes felt like a time when he could calm down and stop for a bit. How are you? I hope your day was good. Little things that made the biggest of impacts on his world. 

       He needed to do something. The blonde, now mint haired, couldn’t understand how he felt about you. All he knew was that he very desperately wanted to make you happy. He had gone radio silent for a while, unsure of what to do when he discovered your note; I like you. What was he supposed to do with that information? 

Maybe you like her back? His conscience said. 

        He thought of the crumpled notes in his desk, the replies never sent. He knew what he needed to do next. 

        30 minutes to midnight. You were sprawled on your bed like you were making a snow angel. A soft rapping on your door made you sit up. You glanced at the time and then you stood. You made your way to your closet in an attempt to throw on something other than your pajamas.

        In the end, you just chose leggings and a random christmas sweater in your half packed bag. Looking at the open bag made you frown and your mood dampened. The knocking sounded again. 

“Coming!” You shouted, pulling on socks and walking to your door. 

        Upon opening the heavy wood, you saw no one. Then, on the ground, was a sticky note.

  Have a merry Christmas :) - Yoongi. 

        You picked up the note, heart thumping wildly. You turned to look at his door. It creaked open slightly and All I Want For Christmas is You began its lilting melody. 

       You folded the paper up and stepped towards his door. You gripped the note tightly, hope blooming in your chest. He sees you. The little voice in your head pushed you to continue you into the apartment. 

“Yoongi?” You called. The piano continued playing. Your heart thudded in your ears and you glanced down the short hall. 

        A board was propped up at the end, illuminated by hazy yellow Christmas lights. You stepped quietly and quickly towards it. You noted the similar layouts of your apartments.

       It was like all the pieces of an apartment (a hallway, a room, a bathroom, etc) but in a different order with the same dimensions. As you walked closer to the board, you could finally make out what was on it. Your breath caught in your throat. 

       Notes. Little sticky notes were pressed all over the board. You leaned closer and the familiar scrawl of your handwriting came into focus. All of your notes. Every. Single. Note. You had ever sent him, was on this board. 

        You felt tears spring to your eyes. He had kept them. You managed to hold back the flood as you read over each note with fascination, because beside every note, was another note in Yoongi’s handwriting. 

How are you? I’m okay, how are you?

Did you eat today? Yes, there’s no need to worry. 

        They were in various conditions. Notes, you realized, that he had intended to respond to you with. Each one was crumpled slightly, as if he’d thrown them out and then decided against it. 

        A bag of dried squid sat next to a bag of Kyoho Jelly. You smiled a little, remembering your gesture of goodwill. In the very middle, however, you caught the note you were sure he had thrown away. 

I like you. I like you too. 

       Time froze. The tears were down your cheeks in an instant, the overwhelming emotions flooding you. The note’s words played over in your brain, like his soft breath in your ear.

       I like you. I like you too. The music came to a stop and you were pulled from your thoughts, twisting around to face the mint haired man. His eyes were soft, a gummy smile on his face. 

“You didn’t think I would let you spend Christmas alone after all of this, hm?” He teased. 

       You let out a little chuckle and walked towards him. He stood from his piano and met you in the middle of the room. He took your hands in his and squeezed softly. 

“Thank you, Yoongi.”

“No, I should thank you.” He glanced at the board of notes. “You didn’t need to do all of this.” 

“It was just a silly infatuation.”

“There’s nothing silly about it, Y/N.” He pulled you closer ever so slightly. Then he looked up pointedly and you followed his line of sight. Mistletoe. 

      Without a second thought, without a doubt, which was a surprise since you had many, you tilted your head and met his lips with yours.

       He pressed into you, wrapping an arm around your waist and moving his lips in time to yours. Yoongi had an aloof and cold demeanor oftentimes, but he found he was only ever warm when he was with you. 

       You pulled away, breathing a little harder than before. His cheeks were tinged pink and yours were as well. You were flustered, captivated by his chocolate eyes. The clock on the wall chimed midnight. 

“Merry Christmas, Yoongi.” You breathed. 

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.” Then he leaned in once more and gave you a soft kiss on the lips. 

[buckyswheezes]

Angel's Lies (Pt. 1)

Premise:

“Thank you.”

“Thank you?” The man raised a brow. “I’ve known you for three years and this if the first time you thanked me. Your boyfriend must be teaching your manners.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Yeah, James Barnes? He hasn't broken up with you yet, has he?”

There's only one reason why you decided to go to New York and that's to meet your long-lost twin sister, Sarah. But because of an accident that caused her death, you had to take your twin’s place -including her place in James Buchanan Barnes’ life.

“Sarah,” A voice spoke behind you.

You wanted to tell him that you weren’t your sister when he beat you into speaking again.

“Your father is occupied with work right now. I have strict orders that he is not to be disturbed.

You couldn’t help but wonder how you’ll be a shadow of your sister during your brief stay here in New York. But that doesn’t matter much since you’ll also be leaving in a few days.

“How much do you need?” The man -he must be your father’s secretary- asked dryly as if it was something that normally happened.

“I really need to talk to him.” You replied in your slightly accented English.

The man audibly sighed. “Very well, I know how impatient you are.”

You watched as he trudged his way towards the glass door on the left before disappearing inside. You’re currently at a law firm in New York, not because you need legal assistance or anything of that sort, but because this is where your biological father worked.

And this is the first time you’re going to meet him.

You’re nervous. You’ve been fiddling with your sweaty palms since you arrived.

The door opened once more, and the man from earlier beckoned you to come. “You may come in.”

You stood up and approached him, a small smile on your face. “Thank you.”

“Thank you?” He raised a brow. “I’ve known you for three years, and this is the first time you thanked me. Your boyfriend must be teaching your manners.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Yeah, James Barnes?”

You opened your mouth to reply, but the words got stuck in your throat when a man appeared behind him. His face was pale, and his eyes were wide. He looked as if he had just seen a ghost.

The secretary subtly observed Sarah after seeing her father’s expression. He had never known Sarah to be so well-mannered and reserved. In his opinion, Sarah’s very beautiful -her angelic face made her look innocent and youthful- but today, she looked extra dazzling. He can’t help but feel that something’s not right.

“Sarah…” The elderly man in a crisp suit muttered.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you entered his office that you barely heard the door close behind you. Your father stepped closer to you.

“You might be thinking-”

“You’re not Sarah.”

You don’t know what to feel at having been recognized by your father. For all you know, this was your first encounter with him. “Did my step-father talk to you?”

“No, no. The last time we talked was three years ago when your mother died.” Attorney Franklin Nelson’s face fell. His hand came up, and he briefly massaged his forehead.

“Mom told me that I… I have a sister.” You couldn’t bring yourself to call the man in front of you father. “How did you know I’m not.. her?”

“I was about to leave before you came. A relative of Sarah’s friend called, they -they were in an accident.” He let out a loud and long exhale.

“They’re at a hospital in South Carolina.”

You didn’t know why; you haven’t met her before, but panic gripped your heart. “Is she okay?” You asked.

Your question was met with silence.

“She.. is she dead?” Your voice trembled as your hair stood on ends.

“That’s what they told me, I didn’t want to believe them, and when I saw you earlier, I thought that the caller was just…” You know that your father is trying his best to not break down in front of you. “But you don’t take those kinds of things lightly. And even though the two of you look so much like each other, you still look different.”

“I want to go with you; I’d like to see her.”

He stepped closer to you and reached for your hands. His warm touch unknowingly comforted your troubled heart. He was still your father, after all.

“I understand, I know how much you want to see your sister, but I can’t let you. I don’t want your first and last sight of her to be that way. I’m sorry, I cannot take you with me.” He pleaded. “But there is one thing I would like to ask you to do.”

It surprised you how quickly you relented. “What do you want me to do?”

“I’m worried about mama, your grandmother.”

“Do you want me to tell her? I also want to meet her.”

Your father shook his head. “No, this news might kill her in her condition now, and I cannot survive another loss in the family.” He took a deep breath before speaking again, his eyes boring into yours. “I want you to go home and pretend to be Sarah.”

————————

A woman dressed in slacks and a button-up shirt entered the office. Earlier, your father called someone named Karen on the phone. She was your grandmother’s executive assistant back in the day when the now old woman ran her publishing company. Karen remained in your grandmother’s employ after she retired and is now in charge of the old woman’s personal engagements.

The three of you knew of your father’s plan -and just like you, Karen was against it. However, you didn’t have any other choice, so after the short introduction, she accompanied you to the hotel you stayed at to collect your things.

“Ms.Karen-”

“Just Karen.” She cut you off. “Sarah isn’t known to be polite. ”

Your mind reeled back to the secretary’s remark earlier when you thanked him, then it clicked. He was surprised by your manners - something your twin didn’t have- apparently.

“And you have to get used to people calling you Sarah.”

You sighed. “You’re right… K-Karen.”

As you moved about the suite, Karen’s lack of reaction regarding your sister’s death piqued your interest. You didn’t hesitate to ask why.

“I’m used to Sarah’s absence and occasional indifference when she’s around. I also want to help you for your grandmother’s sake; I can’t let my emotions get the better of me.”

“Sorry, I was just curious.”

She shook her head and flashed you a small smile -a first. “No worries.”

She moved to help you zip your baggage close. “By the way, your cousins might visit anytime soon, and I have to warn you, they’re not on good terms with your sister. So, if you don’t know anyone, just don’t speak to them; that’s normally how Sarah is.”

You held back the urge to roll your eyes. So your twin sister is known to be unsociable and taciturn -a stark contrast to you. This will be a little challenging for you because you cannot change your nature overnight.

As you waited for the family driver outside the hotel, you faced Karen.

“It’s really nice to meet you, Ms. Karen .” You slightly bowed your head. “I want to thank you in advance for helping me with this.”

She looked taken aback at your actions, but she finally flashed you a genuine smile when she regained herself. “You’re welcome, y/n. I wish we could’ve met in better circumstances.”

The car ride towards your new home -temporarily- was silent, not by choice. Your nerves are eating you up, and you couldn’t hold the conversation that Karen was trying to initiate. When you arrived at the house -which was big, bigger than you expected it to be - she led you towards the third room on the first floor. It was your sister’s room.

There’s a queen-sized bed pushed against the wall flanked between nightstands with lamps on it and a couple of framed photos. You strode towards the bed and sat before grabbing one of the pictures. It was a picture of your twin sister.

The heaviness in your heart resurfaced as you grazed your fingers on the smooth surface. If only you’d come sooner.

“Sarah, do you want to see your grandmother?” Karen’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. You glanced at her; she was standing by the door. You nodded silently and placed the picture back on the nightstand before following her out.

You knocked on the door.

“Come in.” You heard a faint voice from the other side. You twisted the knob, the pounding of your heart getting louder as you pushed the door open.

“Grandma,” you greeted tentatively. With slow steps, you made your way across the room to where the old woman is sitting. She welcomed you with a kiss on your forehead.

You bit back the tears that formed in your eyes at the gesture.

“When did you arrive? I thought you’ll be away until Sunday?” She asked, the book on her lap now duly ignored as she shifted her attention to you.

“I wasn’t really enjoying the… um, trip.” You replied with a trembling smile. You decided to sit on the edge of the bed to prevent yourself from falling to your knees.

“Or maybe, you’re just missing Bucky?” She said, catching the playful tone in her voice.

“Bucky?”

She chuckled. “Don’t tell me you already forgot your boyfriend?”

Your throat went dry. Karen didn’t tell you anything about this Bucky -even the secretary mentioned something about him earlier.

“Sarah?” Your grandmother fixed her spectacles.

You gulped. “Yes… Grandma?” You still aren’t used to being called by your sister’s name.

“Did you and Bucky fight?”

You finally lifted your gaze to stare at her; if you can’t do your best in pretending now, then your father’s plan will go to waste. You didn’t want to disappoint him; in this one favor, he asked of you.

“We’re too old to fight.” You replied.

Your grandmother shifted her attention back to the book; you silently examined her. Despite the wrinkles and lines on her face, there was remarkable likeness to your father. You’re overjoyed to finally meet your family, but at the same time, it saddened you; they don’t know you for who you really are.

Bucky.

A faceless name appeared in your mind. You need to meet this man and have a talk. You admit to yourself that you’ve finally accepted this task of pretending to be your sister, but there’s a limitation.

—-

You once offered to read the book to your grandmother, but she refused, saying she knows how much you hated to read -again, a stark contrast to you since your room in Bucharest could be mistaken as a library.

Every day, your differences are revealing themselves.

There was a time when your grandmother asked why you weren’t swimming in the pool anymore. It turns out that Sarah was a swimmer (she even won a swimming contest in high school) while you prefer to just sit by the edge and let your feet dangle in the water.

Then she asked you why you weren’t going out every night anymore, your excuse was your friends weren’t in town.

You asked Karen about Sarah’s hobbies and other information that might be useful in pretending to be your sister. According to her, Sarah used to be a legal researcher in their father’s team but quit. Your father hoped that Sarah would also take up law, but your twin wasn’t too keen on the idea. She was still exploring her options for her career, Karen said when you asked what your twin did for a living.

In Bucharest, you are a librarian at Bucharest Metropolitan Library. You applied for a vacation leave for your supposedly- short trip here in New York, but you’re sure that you’ll soon lose your job in your home country if you continue to stay here.

Part 2

[victoria-daydreams]

Of Vices and Virtues

Chapter Ten: Old Wounds

AN: I really don’t know what to say here, other than enjoy!

Word Count: 4.3k

Trigger Warnings: unhealthy coping mechanisms?

Taglist: @azayamari

Chapter Eleven: Bottled Up

"Claudia," Erik called. "I'm bored,"

We were sitting in Central Park where I sat on a bench enjoying the fall season of New York. The sound of children playing freely with their parents was all around me, and I couldn't help but to wish that was the childhood I had. So carefree, so normal.

"And what does that have to do with me?" I asked, too immersed in my reading to look up.

"I'd figured that maybe you would entertain me," Erik suggested.

I rolled my eyes and chuckled before I continued my reading, switching from both hands holding the novel to my left hand holding it open as I bit the nail of my right thumb.

"If you wanted entertainment, you should have stayed with Moira and Charles to watch the musicians playing," I reminded dryly, finally looking up from my book and turning my head to follow the sound violins being played beautifully.

They played Bach and Handel, then they moved to Mozart, and then they played some pieces that I was unable to identify, possibly compositions of their own. Their fingers moved as if they were dancing over the necks of the violins, the notes filled the air. The sound of high pitched laughter broke the daze I had gone into and my eyes darted to the source of it. A smile graced my lips as I watched a group of children playing tag with each other.

Erik followed my gaze, "How you ever thought about it?" he asked, looking over at me.

"Thought about what?" I asked back, turning my head to him.

"Having children of your own?"

"Maybe," I answered, slightly shrugging my shoulders. "If the world wasn't so cruel," I continued, sighing heavily. "I wouldn't want to raise my child in an environment that hates them the moment they're born," I added, shaking my head. "What about you? Do you want children?" I questioned, closing my copy of The Great Gatsby.

"I do," Erik answered, and I raised my eyebrows in shock.

"Boy or girl?" I asked again, turning my body to face him.

"Girl,"

"Aww, who knew that someone like Erik Lehnsherr would want a little baby girl," I teased, a smile on my face and Erik just rolled his eyes at me. "She'll be in good hands and well taken care of, she'll have a better childhood than the both of us," I proposed, nodding my head with a grin.

We sat in silence for a moment, Erik, I could feel him watching me, but I was too preoccupied by staring off into space, chewing on my bottom lip. Thinking of what could have been with my own family.

"Bombing aside," Erik began pulling me back to reality. "Did you have a happy childhood?" he asked, draping his arm over the back of the park bench, his body now facing my own.

"Bombing aside," I repeated, cocking my head to the side. "I would say I had a decent childhood," I corrected. "Until I was seven," I remembered, my hand closing and forming a fist.

"What happened when you were seven?"

"I found out that I was different from most kids," I stated quietly, a tight-lipped smile appearing on my face.

A high pitched squeal escaped from my mouth as I kicked the ball back to my dad before I ran around our small backyard the grass tickling my feet. A wide smile on my face as my bare feet hit the cool green surface, my toes digging into the earth. A bright yellow spot caught my eye, surrounded by a sea of green grass. I forced myself to slow down and stopped at the yellow dot, bending down I realized it was a dandelion. My grin grew wider and I snatched it from the ground, raising up from the ground I turned to the back porch where my mom and grandma were residing.

"Mama, look!" I yelled, proudly displaying my dandelion.

Mama lifted her head up from the sleeping of bundle of my sister and smiled at me, "That's so pretty, Claudia!" Mama cheered, and I nodded my head vigorously in agreement.

"Claudia watch out!" Daddy shouted.

I turned my head immediately to the sound of his voice and the ball we had been kicking was on a straight path to my face. I let out a shriek and threw my hands out to protect myself. And just like that, it seemed like time froze. I peeked behind my raised arms and gasped, the ball hadn't hit me, instead the ball was suspended in midair surrounded in a pretty shade of violet. Confused, I lowered my arms and was shocked to see the ball slowly coming closer to the ground as I moved my arms down; I was controlling whatever force held it. I lowered the ball to the ground gently, before releasing the force around the ball.

"Mama, Daddy! Did you see what I did?" I asked excitedly.

No one answered me. It was dead quiet and I swallowed nervously, as I looked at my parents and Grandma. Mama had her hand covering her mouth and her eyes were wide open, filling up with tears. Seconds later Daddy was at my side. Grandma got to her knees, before clasping her hands together and began praying quietly.

"Claudia, what did you do?" Mama asked, in the most frightened tone I had ever heard her use.

"I knew my parents were horrified, even my father, although he never let it show. I mean why wouldn't he be. What I could do...it wasn't exactly normal behavior," I recalled, a mirthless laugh escaping my mouth.

"They didn't disown you, I hope?" Erik asked, a frown appearing on his face.

"Luckily, they didn't. Could you imagine throwing your seven year-old daughter out the house?" I speculated, knitting my eyebrows together. "That would be horrific!" I exclaimed.

"What did your parents do after witnessing your ability? How did they react?" Erik questioned.

"They told me they loved me regardless..." I trailed off.

Daddy knelt down in front of me and grasped my small shoulders, inspecting me closely, "Claudia…sweetheart…Mama and I want you to stay quiet about this. Alright?"

I frowned at what Daddy asked, "But why? It's amazing and so pretty!"

Mama knelt down beside Daddy and gave me a small, sad smile, "Yes, it is. But you have to understand something...sometimes...people get scared of things they don't understand," Mama explained gently.

I tilted my head to the side as I processed what Mama just said, "Why would people be scared?"

"That's hard to explain, honey. Personally...we don't know of anyone that has a...gift...like you do. If you showed others, they may react badly to it and they might hurt you," Mama tried to further explain to me.

I looked down at the ground. I had noticed Mama's hesitation about using the word gift. It made me wonder. "Are you scared of me now?"

At my question, both Mama and Daddy embraced me tightly. "No. No we're not," Daddy said with conviction.

"But you didn't believe them, did you?"

"You know what? I did actually. It was what my Grandma said that made questioned my parents true feelings about my mutation," I admitted.

"What did she say?"

"She told me that one day there will be a cure for me," I spat, recalling my Grandma's words. "I thought that would be the worst thing she would say to me, but oh how wrong I was," I went on, shaking my head.

"I take it you developed your empathic powers soon after," Erik guessed.

I nodded, "Two weeks had barely passed after my telekinetic incident, when I started to get these horrible headaches," I explained, my expression darkening. "That's when I began to pick up on emotions that weren't mine. I had told my parent's that I could feel their emotions as they passed through their minds. Of course, at first, they assumed I was playing around but after proving my talent to them both, they were shaken," I added.

I shook my head again, thinking back to how it had taken my family quite a while to get used to my empathy. To realize that a pain in your chest caused by the anguish that suddenly rose from no where was not your own, but someone else's. It was a violation in a way, and one that made my family hesitant to be near me.

"My grandma turned completely hostile toward me. In an attempt to get rid of me, my grandma suggested that they send me to psych ward because I was having a a mental breakdown," I stated, crinkling my noise in disgust while shaking my head. "God Erik, why did you ruin this beautiful day by making me recall my childhood," I groaned, running hand through my hair. "Now I actually need some entertainment," I mentioned, standing up from the wooden bench and walking away from him.

"Claudia, wait," Erik called, and I could hear his footsteps jogging behind me. "Come on, you know that was never my intention," he reasoned, falling in line with my stride.

Sighing, I looked over at him and nodded my head, "I know," I agreed. "You know I can be over dramatic," I breathed, my lips quirking up into a small smile.

A cool breeze blew through the trees of Central Park, bringing with it a flurry of freshly fallen leaves which stood a stark contrast to flocks of lively birds making their way steadily northward. My eyes scanned my surroundings, people were about the park as always, going about their business as only New Yorkers truly could.

"Erik," I began, sliding my book into my coat pocket. "Do you think I'm going crazy?" I asked randomly, facing him again

He cocked an eyebrow and laughed, "What? No," Erik answered, shaking his head with a smile. "I haven't seen one sign that you're losing your mind," he continued, his smile widening. "A strange question to ask Claudia, I have to say," Erik stated, with a chuckle.

I shrugged, "I have a feeling that Charles thinks I'm going crazy," I theorized, interlocking my fingers together behind my back.

"Don't be ridiculous Claudia," Erik grinned. "What would ever make you think that?" he inquired, letting out a hearty laugh.

"Why else do you think we took this impromptu trip here?" I pointed out, unlinking my fingers and sticking my hand in front of me. "He means wells, but all because I was distant two days ago, he's been like a mother hen," I complained, beginning to fiddle with the amber charm of my necklace. "Always watching me from over my shoulder and monitoring me. I haven't been able to really use my empathic powers because all Charles wants to do is focus on my telekinesis," I finished, a slight scowl appearing on my face.

"Here's a crazy thought, maybe he's just worried about you, Claudia," Erik replied sarcastically. "You have been a lot training these past two days, one would say too hard. You're not eating a lot, I noticed that you're up later than you usually are," he listed, ticking them off with his fingers. "Not to mention your temper has been shorter than usual," Erik remembered.

"I am not up late," I argued, knowing that the dark circles underneath my eyes I hid beneath my makeup showed all of the signs of restless night's sleep. "Nor have I been short of temper lately," I insisted, crossing my arms together.

"You cut your lights off at 11:00 pm on the dot every night. Recently, your lights have been on up until 1:00 am," Erik deadpanned, giving me a knowing look and my brow rose. "Yes, I've noticed that," he added, answering my silent question.

I really couldn't help myself from asking, "Oh, so you notice things about me?" I questioned grinning. "Because usually I have to tell you when you should look for something," I added, still grinning.

Erik rolled his eyes and laughed, "I notice things about everyone," he replied, and then looked at me slyly. "But I maybe paying some...extra attention to you,"

We proceeded down the walkway not sure where I wanted to go, but I wanted to be somewhere. I came across one of the many fountains in Central Park and lowered my hand into the water and ran the tips of my fingers over it. A thought crossed my mind and I lifted my hand, flicking water at Erik and drew back from the onslaught of the water droplets.

"You're such a child," Erik commented, his lips curving into a smile as he went to grab for my hand which I easily spun away from.

"I try to be," I smiled back.

I moved off the cement path and walked onto the seemingly endless lawn of the park. I made my way further onto the grass until we come near a thick grove of oak trees interspersed with some hearty pines. There were people spread out all over the field of all sorts, around the clearing's edges parents watched their children idly. Women read magazines or gossiped with one another while men ate their lunches or smoked amongst the trees, college students were laid on picnic blankets or throwing a football around.

Sticking my hand out I began to trace the rough bark of the tree next to me, beginning to walk in a circle. I closed my eyes and let my hand guide me around the tree, circling the tree twice in blissful content.

"May I ask what you're doing?" Erik asked, stopping me in my tracks and I opened my eyes, he was standing next to me, an amused expression painted on his face.

I glanced at him and smirked, "Whatever I want I suppose," I answered, continuing on my path around the tree.

Erik began to circle the tree as well only he went the opposite way, "And what is it that you want Miss Walker?" he inquired.

"I'm in need of some entertainment, just like you," I answered, turning around to meet Erik in front of the tree. He abruptly stopped once he saw me, our fingers brushed together momentarily before I leaned my back against the tree, looking at him with a mischievous grin.

"What are you about to do?"

"That man can't remember if it's his wife's birthday or their anniversary," I informed, still grinning.

I pointed to a bald middle-aged man who walked to the right of us with a confused, thoughtful look on his face.

Erik continued to look at me confused, "What?"

I slid my hands into my coat pockets jut as another gust of the autumn breeze swept past me, causing me to shiver and sigh contentedly as it ruffled my dark hair. I closed my eyes for a split second before opening them.

"That woman, over there? Found out that her boyfriend was cheating on her. Nice right hook, that one," I commented smirking, before shifting gaze away from the woman. "And that man..." I trailed off, as he happened to look back to where we were.

He was a tall, young man probably the same age I was, his blond hair was tousled most likely from the breeze which framed his blue eyes along with his square jaw. He shot me a wonky grin and I just smirked and wiggled my fingers giving him a small wave as I stared into his eyes, scrapping what I had originally planned to do and formulating a new way to have some fun.

"What are you doing?" Erik murmured from beside me.

"Just watch,"

Suddenly, the football he had been previously throwing came sailing back towards him and striking him on the back of the head. The man flinched and let out a groan of pain, rubbing the back of his head.

"Hey man, what the hell!" he exclaimed. His friend glanced over at me, seeing that I'm the reason why the blond-haired man didn't see the football coming. "Are you blind? Why didn't you hold the ball?" he asked angrily, storming over to his friend.

"Relax Aaron," the friend snickered. "Stop ogling at a girl and pay attention next time," he suggested, shrugging his shoulders.

"You've got a problem, Luke?" Aaron asked, getting up in his friend's face.

"No, I think you have a problem," Luke said, shoving Aaron away from him.

I turned my head to Erik, "Are you entertained?" I asked grinning proudly, and Erik let out a short laugh.

I suddenly became aware of another presence near me and my head turned and gazed up at Charles.

"There you two are, everyone was wondering where you had gone off to," Charles greeted, a relieved smile on his face. "What are you two doing?" he asked curiously, his eyes bouncing between Erik and I.

"Oh, we're just watching a bit of entertainment," I answered, a smirk on my face. "Right Erik?" I asked, glancing up at him.

"That would be correct," Erik confirmed.

Charles looked over at me and followed my gaze, watching the shoving match between the two men.

"Oh my God, Claudia please don't tell me this is your doing?" Charles questioned, his eyes back on me now.

I turned my head to Charles, his was mouth set in a firm grimace, "What can I say? We were bored," I explained nonchalantly, with a shrug.

"That's enough Claudia, you've had your fun now," Charles declared.

"Hold on Charles, I think she's onto something," Erik disagreed, raising his index finger up. "No one is even paying attention to them," Erik pointed out.

"I'll never not be amazed with my powers," I remarked, looking around at people going about their day not noticing the fight happening in front of their eyes. "A little inducement of calmness works wonders," I mused, folding my arms together.

Within a blink of the eye, Aaron swung his fist out and it connected with Luke's face, sending him to the ground.

"Hell of a right hook," I observed, as Aaron got on top of Luke to continue his pummeling.

"Claudia!"

"You know Erik, I once made a man punch himself," I informed, glancing over at him. "One night I had this drunk customer screaming in my face, and I grew angry enough that I imagined punching him, and he somehow punched himself," I recounted, thinking back to my diner job as a teenager.

"Impressive," Erik chuckled.

"You should see what happens when I sing, with my power," I boasted, walking ahead a little bit to get a closer look at the two men on the ground.

I went to take another step forward, but hand held me back, keeping a tight hold onto my wrist. I looked back to see who the culprit was just as the wind gently ruffled my hair as I met the stern stare of a dreamy blue-eyed familiar face.

"Claudia, stop it," Charles demanded, his voice dropping an octave.

Sighing, I finally gave in, "Fine," I agreed, turning my head back to the men and restored their peaceful state of mind.

Charles glanced at Erik and I for a moment, and we all share a look.

"Let's go," Charles ordered.

~~~x~~~

"Hey, do you know what's wrong with Charles?" Raven asked, as she pushed the barbell up and back onto the rack. "He's been upset ever since we came back from the park," she commented, maneuvering her way from under the bar and sitting up.

I paused mid crunch and relaxed, looking between my legs to look at Raven, "Yes," I answered, sitting up and hugging my knees. "I'm the reason he's upset," I confessed, and Raven's eyes widened. "I did something that made Charles quite upset," I explained, pushing away the fly-away hairs escaping my bun.

Raven crossed her arms and wandered over to me, "Claudia Walker making Charles Xavier mad, I never thought that I'd see the day," Raven quipped, before sticking her hand out to help me up.

"Neither did I," I stated, shaking my head.

"I wouldn't worry, Charles can't stay mad at you. He likes you too much," Raven reminded with a giggle, as I grabbed her hand and she pulled me up.

The sudden motion made me feel dizzy, I slowly walked over to the towel basket and plucked one out, "I don't know Raven, he seemed pretty upset," I doubted, dabbing the cloth against my face and closed my eyes trying to stabilize myself.

"What did you do?" she asked curiously.

Opening my eyes as my vision had stopped spinning, I removed the towel from my face, "I made these two men fight for entertainment," I explained, and Raven’s brows raised. "Erik and I wanted entertainment, we had gotten bored at the park," I continued, beginning to leave the room. "Do you know where I can Charles? I should probably go make things right," I added.

"In the library, most likely. Where else would he be?" Raven joked, and I nodded my head in agreement and laughed before exiting the gym.

I wrapped the towel around my neck and made way down the hall admiring the paintings on the wall as I headed to the library. The door to the library was cracked, slowly pushing it open revealed Charles standing in front of the window. I walked quietly into the room but he didn't turn around, he simply waited for whoever had entered to speak first. Out of the corner of Charles' eye he saw me move to stand beside him, still not saying a word.

At last, I broke the silence, "It's clear that you're upset with me," I began, searching his face for a reaction, but there wasn't one.

"How about disappointed?" he corrected, still looking out the window. I turned to look at him again and I was surprised to find his face free of anger, his face was calm. "You could have seriously injured those men Claudia. Worst, you could have killed them," Charles stated grimly, staring at me.

Backing away from where Charles stood, I sat down on top of the sofa, "Oh, come on, I wouldn't have let it get to that point," I answered, crossing my arms and returning Charles' stare.

He turned all the way around to face me, "It should have never happened in the first place!" Charles argued, slightly raising his voice. "Why on God's green earth would make those men fight?" he questioned, throwing his hands up.

"For fun, I suppose," I answered, with a slight shrug.

Charles scoffed, "That's your definition of fun? he asked incredulously.

"Fun is interpreted differently from person to person," I countered.

"No, I don't believe that's the whole story. I have never seen use your powers so irresponsibly. What is going on with you?" Charles asked again, walking towards me.

I pushed off the sofa, "You have been mother henning me for two days straight and I'm at my wits end here! I needed a release!" I snapped, spreading my arms out. "I'm not myself for one day, and for two days you have constantly been over my shoulder like I'm some fragile-" I continued pointing my finger, until another wave of dizziness me, this time stronger than before.

I felt myself falling as my vision slightly darkened, but a pair of arms caught me before I fell to the floor.

"Hey, I got you, I got you," Charles repeated softly, my head leaning against his chest. He lowered us to the ground slowly, "I'm going to pick you up, alright," he announced, before hooking his arms underneath my legs and slowly lifting me up. He walked over to the front of the sofa and placed me down onto the plush cushions. "Good thing I've been a mother hen, right?" Charles asked smiling, his hand brushing away a stray lock of hair from my face.

"I guess it paid off in the end," I conceded, smiling weakly as Charles sat on the edge of the sofa.

He placed the back of his hand against my forehead and frowned, "Claudia, you're burning up," he noted, removing his hand. "I knew you were pushing yourself too hard these past two days," he continued, placing each of his hands down on the cushions on either side of my waist. "Why didn't you tell me, love?" Charles asked quietly.

He was tense, his hands were clenched into fist by my side, I lifted my arm and soothingly rubbed his arm and felt the muscles in his arm slowly release some of their tension. His blue eyes met mine and he relaxed a little more.

"I thought I could push through it, I've done it before," I explained, giving him a small smile in an attempt to make him feel more at ease. "I really didn't want you to start smothering me anymore," I added, a short laugh erupting from me.

Charles shook his head gazing down at me with worried eyes, "Yes, and look where it's gotten you right now," he remarked, shaking his head once more. "You are so guarded at times Claudia, you've got to learn that not everyone wants to hurt you. I want to help you, I truly do. But I can't do anything unless you can accept that," Charles stated.

I was shocked by his bluntness and stared at him in shock, being quiet for several moments and looking away. When I didn't answer, Charles reached for my hand and held my hand in his.

"Do you trust me Claudia?" Charles asked softly.

It was such a simple question, yet I knew it meant a lot more to Charles...and myself. I stared up at him saw the genuine concern written across his features, and knew that what he told me was true.

"You're the first person I have trusted in years, Charles," I admitted softly.

The telepath gave me the most adorable, beautiful grin of relief, "I'm honored," Charles answered, and lifted my hand to his lips and kissed the palm of it. The simple gesture made my stomach flip. "Let's get you some rest, yeah?" he suggested, nodding his head toward the door.

Chapter Twelve: What Are These Feelings?

[supernatural-jackles]

The Man on the Side of the Road - Part 13

Title: The Man on the Side of the Road - Part 13

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 3,834

Warnings: High Stress Levels, Mentions of the readers shitty Mom, FLUFF, All around cuteness! 

Summary: Driving down the road, going well over the speed limit. You come across a man walking in the opposite direction with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. His head cast down as he walked. Your gut instinct is telling you to check on this man, no matter what your parents told you growing up. Little did you know just how much this would change your life.

The Man on the Side of the Road - Masterlist

A/N: Three parts left after this one! I hope y’all enjoy this part! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Happy Reading!! 

Your head was pounding. Your vision was starting to blur and everything looked the same. You felt like you had been awake for forty eight hours. Your stomach was in knots, your chest was tight. You were beyond exhausted.

 Finals were going to be the absolute death of you.

 You buried your face in your hands, trying your hardest to clear your eyes and make them see one thing instead of eight. You had been at this for hours and nothing was sticking. You needed to pass this final. It was the most important one and you needed a seventy five in order to advance to the class you were taking next semester. You needed to learn the next twenty definitions and the process of seven more things and you literally had no idea how you were going to pull this off.

 “Knock knock,” Dean called out from behind your door. You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself.

 “Come in,” you called out, trying your hardest to sound okay. Your bedroom door opened and Dean walked in. He was wearing his new pyjama pants that Sam had sent him as an early Christmas present. They had presents scattered all over them, and quite frankly they looked cute on him.

 “Hey you,” he greeted you. “Still studying?”

 “More like dying,” you sighed.

 “Nothing’s sticking huh?” he frowned, taking a seat at the end of your bed, giving you a bit of space.

 “Nope,” you shook your head. “I am not going to pass this final at this rate. I’m stressed out, exhausted and all I want to do is sleep for ten years.”

 “Don’t say that, sweetheart. You just need a break,” he suggested. “Why don’t we go make some dinner and pie. I did the groceries so we’ve got some food in the house. I can make you one of my dad’s recipes and after we can make your grandma’s homemade apple pie recipe.”

 “What are we going to make for dinner?” you smiled. “Mac and cheese? Winchester surprise?”

 “I was thinking I could make your favourite chicken with some mac and cheese,” he said with a smirk.

 “You know I can’t resist that,” you squinted at him.

 “I know. That’s why I’m making it. You gotta come out of this room and you’ve gotta eat something that’s not dried cereal or leftover beef jerky from our road trip nearly two months ago.”

 “You’re making me sound like I have a problem,” you giggled.

  “You do. It’s called being overworked,” he chuckled. “Kitchen. Now. Then I need you to watch a short movie with me. Give yourself a break. After that, we can kiss a little and I will help you study for however long tonight,” he declared proudly, looking at you with a sweet smile

 “Okay. We’ll go with your plan, chief,” you said with a weak smile. “You win this time. You had me at kissing you.”

 “Let’s go.”

 The second you got to the kitchen, you felt guilty for not having your books in front of you. The worry of not passing this final was really starting to get to you. You knew Dean was right; that you needed a study break because nothing was going to stick if you kept trying to cram it in. He offered to help you later, and you prayed to god that it would stick in better.

 Dean had the pasta noodles on, and the chicken already in the oven, like he was planning this all along. All that was left was to grate the cheese, and he was already halfway done. You just got to sit there, and watch him do what he did best.

 “When I was little,” you started, glancing up at Dean, “my mom tried to teach me how to bake. Red velvet cookies were what I wanted to make because I saw a picture in a recipe book one day. So she found one that would work and picked out an afternoon to do so. I thought it was going to be fun. You know, spending time with my mom, just the two of us. But I accidentally dropped an egg on the floor, and of course it broke. My mom was furious with me and sent me to my room for destroying her good kitchen floor. All because the egg slipped out of my hand and fell.”

 “That is terrible,” Dean frowned. “Accidents happen all the time.”

 “It was,” you nodded. “She came into my room hours later with a single cookie for me to eat. It was the first time I looked at something and felt like I didn’t deserve it.”

 “Why are you telling me this?” He asked, turning to face you.

 “Because I feel like I don’t deserve you sometimes. Especially on days like today when I’m cranky as hell, and not so fun to be around. You’re here making sure I eat and don’t overwork myself, and I don’t deserve to have someone as great as you in my life.”

 “Yeah you do,” he argued with a smile playing on his lips. “You deserve to have someone looking out for you, Y/N. You do the same for me.”

 “Well, I’m glad I’ve got you,” you smiled.

 “Likewise,” he smiled softly. “When I was growing up, my dad was the one who taught me how to cook. He told me it was a valuable life skill that I would need one day. I was always taught that it wasn’t just a woman’s job to cook for the family. I don’t remember a whole lot of my parents together. I was four when she died. But what I do remember is that they were happy together, and I wanted to have that one day.”

 “Do you still want that?” you asked him.

 “Yeah,” he nodded. “I’ve got you. I know my parents loved each other. Even if I remember them arguing, and such. I asked my dad about her from time to time, and he always talked about her with that same look on his face that he had when he saw her. Their love was something real. That’s what I want.”

 “The real thing,” you teased. “Growing up, my dad was my best friend. He had this big office in our house that no one was allowed in but me. He had a chair in there for me, and a computer there for me to do work at one end of his desk. It was our space that my mom couldn’t enter. It was a safe place for me. His Sunday’s were spent playing golf, away from my mom. Those were supposed to be the days I spent with her but she never wanted to. She had her girlfriends over for drinks and I’d be shoved into my bedroom, away from everyone and everything. My parents never spent any time together when I was growing up. My dad travelled during the week for work. I spent Saturdays with him. The more I think about it now, I wonder why they waited until I was twelve to get divorced. They were never happy together.”

 “That’s not fair to you,” he commented.

 “No it’s not. It’s like some sort of arrangement for them, I think,” you agreed. “You want what your parents had, and I want anything but what my parents have. How strange is that?”

 “Have you ever gotten along with your mom?” Dean questioned as he poured the cheese into the noodles. “I know Ketch said to you at the diner that night that your mom loved him more than she did you. Is that true?”

 “Unfortunately yes,” you shrugged. “And for the longest time, that was so hard for me. I mean, my mom loved my boyfriend more than she loved me, and I was her daughter. God, my mom was more excited when she found out I was going out with Ketch than I was. Sure, his family is the richest, and their house is a million times bigger than this. Ketch literally doesn’t need a college degree for crying out loud. It’s not like we ever struggled with money. I mean my dad still makes amazing money and he bought this house for me so I wouldn’t have to stay with my mom while I went to school.”

 “He’s got connections to everything and your mom liked that huh?”

 “It made her look good. It was good for the parties and for all the people at the country clubs. It’s like he’s fucking royalty or something,” you scoffed. “My mom didn’t want me to go to college at first, actually. That’s one of the reasons why I’m so late in graduating. I fought hard to go, and she would only let me go as far as here. My dad fought for me. He knew I wanted my own life. My mom was determined. A girl like me shouldn’t have to work hard for one. The job at the hospital was hard enough work. At one point, she even told me I wasn’t smart enough to get in, which was untrue. It’s just not me. I can’t just sit somewhere and have everything done for me. I’ve never been that way, even if my mom tried to raise me that way. It wasn’t right. I think she thought that Ketch was going to turn me into someone that she’d approve of. A housewife. Someone like her.”

 “I could never see you sitting back and doing nothing,” he chuckled. “You work harder than a lot of people.”

 “Thanks, Dean,” you grinned. “I’m at the point where I’m trying not to care about her. I don’t answer my mom’s texts anymore. Her calls are ignored. I’m done dealing with it all. All it ever does is upset me and I’m tired of putting myself in that position. I gotta move past it all.”

 “Good for you, sweetheart,” he nudged your shoulder. “You graduate in June right?”

 “Maybe! If I pass this final and all my classes next semester, then yes,” you let out a dry laugh.

 “You will,” he reassured you. “You’ll get home tomorrow feeling relieved that it’s over with and that you aced it. I’ll pick up some pizza and beer on the way home, and we’ll celebrate.”

 “And I can pick the movie?” you asked with a wide smile.

 “‘Course you can,” he winked.

 You and Dean ate dinner with a constant flow of conversation. For the first time all day, you felt relaxed, and you knew that was going to do your brain some good. When you were to go back to studying, there was a good chance you were going to retain more than you could before.

 Dean was the first one to finish, and he instantly started on the dishes. You couldn’t help but watch him as he worked. His muscles flexed beneath his shirt every so often. It had been a whole two months since you had slept with him that night, and the morning after. Your feelings had only grown stronger for him. You were taking it slow, enjoying the ride as you went on. Since you already lived together, you kept the sleepovers until Friday and Saturday nights. You didn’t want to rush this and ruin things.  You wanted to still have that friendship between you. It was the most important thing to you.

 You were slowly but surely moving past the whole, not good enough for him thing. There were still days when you felt like you weren’t good enough for him, and that was normal. Most of the time, he was the one who made you feel like you were. He was always making sure you knew that you were doing good, especially in the moments when you felt like you weren’t. There wasn’t a single doubt in your mind that you weren’t head over heels for him. This had the potential to become what his parents had. This had the potential to be something amazing.

 You got up from the counter, placing your utensils in the sink and your plate on top of his. You reached for the towel, taking the first mug out of the sink, drying it off. Dean gave you a soft smile before returning back to what he was doing. Your heart began to race in your chest.

 You wondered exactly what was going through his mind. If he was thinking about dinner, or anything else in specific. You wondered if he looked at you and thought the same thing you did when you looked at him. If he thought you were beautiful. If he thought he was lucky to have someone like you in his life. It was the little things.  

 There was a part of you that wanted to tell him that you loved him. You knew it wouldn’t be the worst thing to say, especially with how long he had been in your life. But at the same time, you were always the one who expressed how you felt first and that never worked out for you in the end. It was fear this time around. You didn’t want to push it so far only to have it crash and burn in the end. Dean was all you had at this point. You could wait. You could wait a lifetime for him. He was worth it.

 “Pie time?” he chuckled, pulling the apples out of the fridge. A few weeks ago, you had decided to go apple picking one Sunday. He remembered the day you met him that you mentioned something about your grandma’s recipe needing fresh autumn apples. He thought it would be a good date idea for the two of you and it was. It was one of the memories you think about that makes you smile.

 “Pie time,” you nodded.

 You opened up the cupboard, grabbing your book of recipes. Dean was already pulling out everything you needed from the fridge. You stifled your laugh, knowing just how excited he was for this. Quite frankly you were too. He was like a kid when he was excited and you loved that about him.

 He peeled and cut the apples while you made the pie crust. You worked side by side, bumping into one another a few times while you worked. You tried your hardest to focus on the pie in front of you, but when he stood so close, you couldn’t help but look over.

 “You’re cute,” he muttered, taking a slice of apple, bringing it up to his lips.

 “You’re cute,” you smiled, taking a bit of flour before flicking him. The white dust covering part of his shirt and his cheeks.

 “You’re going to pay for that,” he threatened with a laugh, placing his hand in the flour before rubbing your face. “Much better.”

 “Dean!” you shrieked, letting out a laugh. You smirked, inching closer to him, wiping your cheek on his shirt. He gasped, laughing in the process. “Okay, I actually have to finish this if you want to eat this tonight.”

 “Fine,” he grumbled, flicking you once more before getting back to work.

 You managed to get everything ready within half an hour. Dean added a lot of apples into the pie, and extra cinnamon. You smiled when he helped you with the top of the pie, patting it down with you. Your hands brushing against one anothers every so often. He took it when it was done, and put it in the oven for you. You were really looking forward to tasting it after this.

 His hands made their way to your hips, backing you up to the opposite counter until you hit it. He lifted you up quickly, his body settling between your legs before his lips were on yours. His kisses started off slow and soft; chaste. Moving in a perfect sync with yours as his large hands travelled over the length of your back. You melted against him, allowing yourself to enjoy being with him like this. It was really nice to have a boyfriend that wanted to kiss you the way he did on a constant basis.

 “You want to watch a movie, or a few episodes of Dr Sexy? You’re nearly caught up,” he pointed out as he placed a slice of pie on your plate. “Fuck, this pie is amazing.”

 “Dr Sexy!” you stated. “Gotta see if Dr Sexy and Dr Tara get together. I’m glad you like the pie.”

 “I love how into this show you are,” he let out a laugh.

 “This is your fault,” you side eyed him. “I wouldn’t be in this mess if it weren’t for you.”

 “Hey, this is on you too. I had no idea you had a medical kink,” he winked.

 “So do you, Winchester,” you teased. “You and I both know if I dressed as a nurse, you’d have a field day.”

 “There is no denying that,” he shrugged. “You’d make such a hot nurse.”

 Dean pulled it up on the tv as you sat down in your designated spot. Right next to Dean. It was one of your favourite parts of movie nights. He’d always end up playing with your hair while the movie ended, and you soaked up every second of the attention he was giving you.

 “Can I ask you something?” Dean asked about halfway through the episode.

 “You just did,” you turned to face him with a wide smile. “What’s up?”

 “What’s the plan after you graduate?”

 “Honestly, I’m not entirely sure yet,” you answered. “I have lots of options, and I think that’s what matters the most.”

 “Which one sounds the best?” he questioned.

 “Teacher’s college,” you breathed out. “The one my mom would hate the most.”

 “For that reason?”

 “That’s a bonus,” you chuckled. “But I think I could make a good career as a teacher.”

 “My mom was a kindergarten teacher,” he revealed, giving you a soft smile. “I think that would be an amazing career path for you. You know I’ll support you in anything you want to do.”

 “Thank you,” you smiled. “I have to apply at the end of January, so I still have time. But it’s definitely something I’ve thought about for a little while now.”

 “You’re good at helping people. I’ve learned so many things from you,” he added. “You’d make an amazing teacher.”

 The episode finished, and you needed to get back to studying. You couldn’t relax any longer. You needed to get these last few things down before you could go to bed. You flopped down on your bed, opening up your notebook. Dean was in not long after you with two mugs of peppermint tea. You knew that there was nowhere he’d rather be than here with you, making sure you got this material down.

 It was around midnight when you packed it all up and crawled into bed. Your eyes were drooping, and words started to blend together. You studied the best you could and you felt a million times better than you did earlier. Dean helped you get down the last eighteen definitions and you had memorized the processes you needed to. You have this final in the bag.

 Dean left your room to go lock up the house, something he did nightly for you. You flicked your side light off before curling into your pillow. A few moments later, you felt your bed shift, the comforter moving just a little, before the bed dipped next to you. Dean was sleeping next to you tonight.

 “Gonna sleep with you tonight,” he whispered, linking his pinky with yours.

 “Good,” you muttered. “Night handsome.”

 “Night sweetheart,” he mumbled, reaching over to place a kiss to your forehead.

                                  ------------------------------------

 You walked through the front door with a smile playing on your lips. Friday were the best days. The start of the weekend. The best damn part of the week. You kicked your shoes off, heading straight for the kitchen with your bag in hand. You couldn’t wait to start the weekend off right with the man you loved. 

 “I’m home!” you called out.

 “Hey beautiful,” a familiar voice filled your ears. Your smile only grew wider. Your eyes glanced over to the counter where he stood. The sleeves of his flannel shirt rolled up to his elbows, revealing his strong, toned forearms that drove you crazy.

 “Hey sexy,” you winked at him. “How was your day?”

 “Great. Bobby gave me a raise today,” he revealed. “He said I had been working really hard the last few months and it’s paying off.”

 “Dean! That’s amazing,” you grinned widely, dropping your bag to the ground. You circled the counter quickly, reaching Dean in an instant. You stood on your tiptoes, your lips crashing to his, kissing him hard as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. “I’m so proud of you!”

 “Couldn’t have done it without you,” he smiled, licking his bottom lip. “You’re my rock.”

 “And you’re mine,” you whispered, reaching up to kiss him once more.

 “How was your day, sweetheart?” he asked, tugging you in close to him.

 “Good. No tears today. No parents to call. And it’s Friday,” you chuckled. “Today’s a good day.”

 “How’s our baby girl?” he questioned. His right hand slipped from the small of your back to your growing bump.

 “Why don’t you ask her?”

 Dean kneeled down to your stomach, pressing his lips to the bump. His hand held either side of your stomach. It had to be the best thing you had seen and he did it over and over again. She already had her daddy wrapped around her tiny little finger. She was going to be a daddy’s girl for sure. This was exactly what you wanted.

 “Hey baby girl,” he said softly. “You being good for your mom in there? Not kicking her insides too much?”

 “Not today,” you whispered.

 “I love you, peanut,” he muttered, pressing another kiss to your stomach. “And I love you, sweetheart.”

 “Not as much as we love you,” you smiled.

---------------

 You shot right up, your eyes opening widely. Your heart was pounding in your chest. You swallowed hard, realizing that it was just a dream and it was the middle of the night. Dean was still fast asleep, facing your direction.

 For a moment, it actually felt real. It actually felt like you and Dean were going to end up together, and you were having a baby together. It actually looked like life was looking good for the two of you. God, the way he kissed your stomach. Ugh, and the way he kissed you. It was everything you wanted and more. It was everything you wanted with the person you loved.

 “You okay?” Dean breathed out, shifting a little. He never even opened his eyes.

 “Yeah,” you whispered.

 “Bad dream?” He asked you, popping one eye open.

 “No. Good dream. Best dream I’ve had in awhile. I’m just sad it came to an end,” you admitted.

 “Dr Sexy?”

 “Something better,” you rolled your eyes. “I’ll tell you some other time.”

 “What if you forget?” He cocked his eyebrow with his one eye still open.

 “Trust me. I will never forget this dream.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Did you like it? What was your favourite part? Share your thoughts with me via reblog, reply or send me an ask! Your response is what keeps me sharing stories like this!