#crooked nose… half smiling eyes.. like someone who just fell out of a tree— but it’s funny. and we’re all laughing. like that

[rendside]

Could you draw Brightheart please?

[upsidedownwithsteve]

The Tenth Day Of Christmas

Eddie Munson x fem!reader [0.9K]

The world was a little brighter when you woke up that morning. That white hazy light that made you think you were still dreaming or maybe you’d slept in way too long.

Eddie’s bedroom was blue shadows and cold air, the strip of light coming in from the gap in the curtain harsh and blinding. You grumbled as you shifted, the chill outside the covers making you shiver when you reached an arm out. So you sunk back into the depths of the duvet instead, pressed yourself into the warm, solid body that still slept beside you and used your foot to push back the curtains.

White, that's all you saw.

White on the ground, on the roofs, on the bare trees, on the cars, in the air. Snow was still falling onto the piles that were covering the ground, a good few feet of it creeping up the sides of the neighbouring houses, the ledge of the window sill.

You groaned, eyes squinting, nose scrunched. The curtain fell back into place as you rolled over, bathing the room back in that hazy, soft light. It was earlier than you’d first thought, Eddie’s alarm blinking only half past seven. So you curled into the boy, all arms and legs as you wrapped yourself around him, nose pushed into his sleep mussed curls until he came to life and hummed.

Eddie in the morning was all hair and soft edges, pillow crease lines cutting across warm, rosy skin and tattoo ink. He let you drape over him, leg hitched over his back and hip as you practically lay across his frame. The boy smiled into the pillow, eyes still closed as he moaned when you kissed a path over one bare shoulder, bit down a little roughly at the crook of his neck.

“S’unfair to maul a man when he’s still half ‘sleep,” Eddie mumbled but his voice held too much affection to be a complaint.

“It’s snowing,” you said instead of defending yourself. “Like, really snowing.”

“Oh yeah?” Eddie came to a little more, peering at you from over his shoulder, eyes half open under his messy bangs. “Think I’ll get the van out?”

You hummed and shook your head, hardly sad about it, knowing that you were well and truly snowed in the small trailer with Eddie. And that meant a day to be selfish and lazy, to have the boy all to yourself, shared clothes, late breakfasts, long movies and duvets in the living room.

“Nope,” you said and Eddie grinned at how happy you sounded. “You’re in here with me, all day,” you drawled.

The boy finally turned, flipping underneath you fast enough to make you squeak and you let him manhandle you, pulling and squeezing at your legs and hips until he had you where he wanted you, his shirt pushed up on your thighs and your bare legs on either side of his waist.

“Oh no,” he deadpanned, “whatever shall I do?” His grin was wicked, far too filthy for someone who had just woken up but the soft, morning light made him look pretty, far more prettier than usual.

“Me, hopefully,” you murmured, smiling more shyly than you felt. Eddie was looking up at you with the most sinful eyes, big and dark and impossibly bright for such an early morning hour.

His hands wandered to your ass, palms rough and bed warm, squeezing playful as he made you rock down against him once, twice, his lips parting as yours did, a little huff of a moan slipping from your throat.

But then, too quick for you to realise, Eddie was sitting up and taking you with him, making you squeal and cling to his shoulders, legs wrapped around his trim waist. He held you tight, warm and all hard muscle and softer lines underneath.

“Breakfast first,” the boy explained warmly, padding out barefoot to the kitchen, carrying you to the countertop and making you yelp when he dropped you down on the cold surface.

He kissed away your complaint, a quick kiss that was only the first of many that day and he hummed when you grumbled as he pulled away too quickly, greedy hands tucking themselves into the waistband of his sweats, pulling him back to you.

“Proper kiss,” you told him, voice too soft to sound all that demanding and Eddie would’ve given you whatever you wanted regardless.

“Not even brushed my teeth, babe,” he told you but he was moving back into, nose brushing against your own.

“Don’t care,” you told him, ‘cause the trailer was cold with the snow that lay around it, the frost that painted the window panes. “Kiss, please.”

“A kiss,” Eddie bargained, “then pancakes, yeah?”

You nodded, lashes fluttering as you waited for what you wanted. “Mhmm, with strawberries. Then back to bed.”

His lips found your cheek, your jaw, your chin and you could feel his smile on your skin, as warm as he was. “Then back to bed,” he agreed. “Sounds perfect.”

It did and it was. You ate breakfast on the sofa, your legs over Eddie’s as you shared a bowl of berries, pancakes drowned in syrup before you both fell back into the pillows and sheets that smelled like smoke and Eddie and your perfume.

You stayed there all day, tangled in Eddie as the snow outside made everything soft and white and quiet.

[so-are-you]

"You know, I've sort of been dreading talking to you again— if I can somehow say that in a way that's not rude as fuck," I winced reflexively at my own wording.

"It's alright," she replied quietly, sitting in her usual spot in the crook of a tree, between the roots. She seemed distant as usual.

I approached and sat down in-between the roots beside her, one fairly large offshoot sticking out between us like a natural armrest, though a little too high for that. I felt like a lumbering oaf: plopping to the ground with my legs stretched straight out, hunched over inelegantly, hands falling to the moss between my legs. It was hard not to, by comparison to her way of sitting with her knees drawn up to her, making less impact on the world around her overall; her existence at that time seemed to be framed by not making any impact on the world around her.

"Well, of course it's not because I don't like you or something. You know you're my oldest companion," I said, petting the moss as I spoke.

She didn't move a muscle. "Of course."

"Maybe it's just because the way you've been changing, it's changed our relationship too. I'm not sure what to say to you anymore, sometimes. I guess I don't remember what I used to say to you before either, though. Anything, I guess. I guess I say a lot in general for someone who doesn't know what to say," I trailed off.

"I don't mind whatever you want to say to me," she quietly responded.

I picked at the bark of the part of the tree jutting out between us. "Are you unhappy? Here?"

She suddenly looked at me, but still with a softness. Her face seemed as perfectly still and natural as a pond before a rainstorm. "This is the only place that I want to be. Anyway, I'm not unhappy," she paused. "I'm fine."

"Do you still see yourself changing? Is that something you want?"

"I don't know," she said quietly, looking at the trees around us. "I don't think I'll ever become unstuck from nature. I don't know about the rest."

"Do you like feeling attuned to nature?" I asked, no longer certain of what this conversation was about.

She looked at me and offered the smallest glimpse of a smile. "Yeah," she said, "that's probably not going to change because it feels both right and... natural."

I pursed my lips at the pun and her smile increased only the smallest amount as she looked back towards the trees again.

"I plan to travel to different places with everyone," I said, settling my back into the tree and sliding downwards into a more reclined position. "Do you want to do that? I feel like maybe getting you away from this tree in particular might at least help you figure some things out."

"You're probably right," she said matter-of-factly. "Ironically, I never considered that. Encouraging personal development only works as a specialty when it's someone else, I guess."

I closed my eyes. "It's alright. I think that at some point helping you along became something I needed to do too. Sometimes I feel like I need you to figure yourself out. I almost feel like I can't have a chance at figuring myself out until you do. Maybe that's the naivety shedding off. Maybe it's a new layer of naivety forming."

She sighed, either from being relieved of a burden or in anticipation of a fresh one, and a few moments of silence passed.

"You can still ask me about yourself, though," she said, placing her hand on the root between us as one might offer their hand to a dying patient.

I crossed my arms indignantly. "What's to ask? What do you think about lasagna for dinner tomorrow?"

She pulled her hand back onto her own knee and laughed with a single blow of air from her nose. "I don't eat that."

We continued sitting in silence for some time, looking out into the woods like two dull sentries, tired from being on the lookout for something that would never come.

A leaf fell in-front of my face and landed on my chest, and suddenly I realized I had been half asleep for some time. I raised up to look at her, half expecting her to be gone, but she had fallen asleep leaning against the root sticking up between us. I quietly placed the leaf on top of her head, and laid back down in-between my own two roots, using my jacket as a makeshift pillow.

[muffindaddystyles]

Will mafia!h and Y/N will have babies? 🥺💓

IM SO SORRY TO TELL YOU THIS BESTIE BUT.... </3

39. " I'm not saying a goodbye."

It was raining. Skies a gloomy shade of cinereal. Harry’s sleek car came to a screeching halt infront of the vast threshold of his home -- his grin pearlish, eyes twinkling a spark as he gets out of the car not caring to close the door behind. He greets his staff and strides two steps together with a gorgeous bunch of his lovie’s favourite flowers now dewy with raindrops and his nose twitched upon sniffing the vanilla-y smell while passing the kitchen and with his beam never vanishing he leaned into the doorframe asking the people inside, “’Ave y'seen Y/N?” Only for them to shake their heads in uncertainty.

She hasn’t showed herself downstairs since morning and even though it’s very odd of her not to chirp around the mansion nobody went to knock at her door to inquire, they think she deserves privacy.

This time they should have because when Harry barged inside their room it was caliginous with curtains shut and lights dimmed to zero.

“Lovie?” His cheery voice clamoured against the walls, a sour feeling he couldn’t be aware of pinches him in throat as he bobbed his head around to look for her and it perked up when a shadow falls on his feet.

“Baby?” His smile quirked back onto his confused features and he narrowed his eyelids to take in her presence through the darkness of wardrobe, “Harry.” A shaky whisper floated towards him and before that sweet call she was falling against his chest.

“Y/N ... baby —-,” His stumped chuckle halted, his brain numbed for a moment when his fingertips brushed up her back to push her closer to him and they trembled as they collected the wetness there. His heart bleaks a stinging pain into it’s cords, his breath shuddered coldly, flowers falling sadly beside their feet and his eyes earths with tears of panic, angst and torment.

His fingertips coating in his love's thick blood.

“I –- ‘m .. you –.. you’re h-hu —- hurt,” He stammered through a whimper hand wrapping around the dagger whose half end’s stabbed into Y/N's spine, her weak frail body unresponsive though she could listen to him.

“Who did this to you! Who did this to you!?” His screams and cries startled everyone downstairs and they rushed up to see what’s happening, to be shocked by their sights of Y/N limp in Harry’s embrace.

He turned his neck to shout at them, “I need a hand t’help me!!” His eyes bloodshot and Niall his best-man scurried over to them as Harry carried Y/N and laid her on her tummy on the bed, he slips onto his knees putting his chin on the mattress to look in her hazy painful eyes -- tears caged in them but never flowing down.

“Harry ...” She mumbled grittily in agony lifting her shaky fingers to pet his face and like an affection starved kitten Harry doesn’t let her tire herself and gets closer to her himself, “Niall bring the first aid, it’s under the sink.” He commands him not letting his eyes drift from over her angelic face.

“You’re okay baby. You’re okay, I know how to stitch up knife wounds.” He sniffled sucking in a breath trying to be brave for her and she just smiled gorgeously, lips blue and cheeks draining out of her usual berry stain.

“Jesus. Harry she’s been stabbed thrice, those fuckers,” Niall’s words wavered in fear and sympathy for Y/N. He squeezed Harry’s shoulder as Harry sobbed upon hearing that, “No –-... no, no! It’s still okay yeah poppet? I’m g’na get y'alright.” He wanted to covers his eyes to block the hurting groans Y/N elicited and he cradled her soft face in his warm palms in comparison to her temperature, touching their temples to pray together.

“Harry li .. listen to —- to me,” She gasps eyes flittering over his shoulder towards Bambi and Thumper the two dogs that had gotten overly fond of her, Harry’s blurry gaze follows her enfeebled gesture for them to come near her.

They whined and howled sadly flopping beside Harry and Harry hiccupped into his elbow shaking his head when Y/N put her hand under their ears in effort to scratch them but wasn’t able to unfortunately, “Hi babies. You’re gonna look after dad after ‘m gone?” Everyone cried at that watching her soul leave their dull lives that watered colourful upon her arrival.

“Don’t say that! Don’t y'dare say that!” Harry sobbed rushing to hug her tightly, the front of his shirt loathing crimson and she hissed looping her arm against his neck when Niall pulled the dagger out from her lower spine gradually and slowly not to hurt her.

“’M so sorry baby, sorry for being the reason of y’pain.” His tears dampened her already sweaty crook of neck, “Pr – promise me t-that that you’ll have some —.. someone who lov‐-.. loves –--,” She whimpered. Her body jerked into him with a force and she pushed him weakly away to stitch her lips tenderly against his's.

“Tell me bubby. Ha—- have I loved y'enough?” She cooed into their kiss and Harry bolted his eyes shut, poisonous sobs wrecking out of his chest.

“Tell me before, I go ...” Her heartbeat started dropping insanely, her lips wobbled, toes curling with life excavating out of her, “Y'have. Y'have don’t go baby, I’m not saying a goodbye!” He cried showering her in kisses for the one last time and pets her hair, eyes closed praying she takes him with herself because he'd never recover from the pain of loosing the only person he loved more than himself, the person who made hum love himself.

“I love you ..” She whispered, her loving kind eyes locked against his’s and the pool of honey around her rims expanded, her lips parted around the gasping breaths and Harry begged and pleaded — a side of him no-one has ever witnessed as he twisted in anguish considering himself the unluckiest man on the earth for letting his lover go like this, in the worst possible way.

“I love you, I thought I’d never be capable of, y'made me worthy darling. I'll always love you baby....” He shrieked into her chest heaving her up gently to embrace her properly and even though he knew she was no more with him, he fooled himself into thinking so.

If it was possible he’d have clawed his ribs to pluck out his heart in return of hers and he felt like the sun and earth had crashed vanishing away the time spaces as he sat there crying and crying mourning the loss of his lovie that could never be healed by anything in this whole word.

He keeps on holding her, rocking back and forth as he lulls her to slumber of death.

It hurts. It hurts so bad.

His heart weeps.

His soul aches.

When rain stopped and that tranquil silence doomed over them, rage filled his every pore and vein.

He knew who did this. Harry has played dirty but he has never played unfair. It was this gang of companies who sabotaged and destructed the orphanages at the property which belonged to his mother (but the papers weren’t clear) to build restaurants and apartments there so Harry took revenge by burning acres of their illegal drug running underground factory and rebuilt the orphanages and took Y/N to one of their charity events.

She was the happiest he had ever seen her.

It’s like a gun barrel clicked in. A firecracker catching the fuse of ashe to burst everything into flames as Harry laid her with ever most tenderness and kissed her temple, her lifeless eyelids and her chapped lips.

Cleaned the streak of blood with his sleeve and didn’t wipe his tears away bashing out of the room, everyone stepped away as Niall lunged infront of him to stop him before he goes to cause damage to himself more than to them for being in such a vulnerable and weak state.

“Step away.” He growled angrily, gaze fiery and dangerous.

“No.” Niall sighed.

“I wouldn’t get her buried in sucha cold blood. She didn’t deserved this, hell nobody does.” Harry kissed his teeth together gripping at his hair ruthlessly, cheeks dry with tears, his limbs trembling, his head spinning.

“Anyone who wouldn’t follow my orders gets their kneecaps blow-off.” He grunted -- nostrils flaring and saying this he went away, snatching his guns from the console and ordered his men to find the security guards that had their duties at the main gates.

In just a day he hunted each of those monsters down like a hungry wolf and gave them such punished, tortured deaths that each one fell in Harry’s feet for his mercy but his heart was turned into a stone already because the only warmth it had there was because of one person and that person’s gone leaving him to survive in this hellhole alone while he dragged these bastards to the depths of firepits.

Once, coming back home to her. To his sunshine, to his soul and life, to his reasons of getting up every morning so he would get to spend time with her —- he broke down. Into shattered bits and pieces of remorse, guilt and sadness feeling himself so small and hurtable as he cried to himself all alone in their garden with no-one to console him where he’ll come to meet her daily.

He wants to rip his skin apart and set it on fire for his beating heart to stop, for it stop feeling.

He feels sick. Fainting, in urgency and desperation to hold his baby and never let go.

To lay down with her under the soil if that's possible.

his only reason to live.

His only beloved.

.

The wind giggles through pink leaves of cherry blossom tree, lush grass resting peacefully and Harry smiles to himself treading towards his two most favourite people in the world.

The spring being their heartiest month.

“Azalea! What y’chattering ‘bout t'mum?” He asks and nods proudly when his lil boy stands up from his cross position on the ground from beside his mother and brushes the grassy spikes from his cherry printed shorts with his little pudgy hands.

“My first day at school dada!” The four years old squeals and Harry scoops him up in his arms, kissing his cheek again amount less times, “Is that so, huh! huh!” He tickles his little bun.

Y/N was right. Isn’t she always. Harry chuckles. Even if she’s gone he still feels loved from her, she’s in the rains, in the sweaters he wears when he feels shallow, in the scent of his pillows, she’s in the vanilla smell of their favourite cupcakes – she’s in his dreams and that name of their son, Azalea.

She always wanted to name their first born Azalea, a blooming flower that happens to be a vibrant pink, a gift of spring, are floriferous in sunshine and she'd always say that Harry would be their sun.

Their ever source of happiness.

Azalea was three days old when his mother died and Harry took him home even though not sure of his own decision but something in those little eyes that matches his mommy made Harry’s heart attract towards him so much he brought him without another thought.

A home he built with Y/N. The curtains of the mansion still remains pushed back wide, flower vases on every furniture, not a day goes by when anyone doesn’t misses her and the ducklings has grown so much that Y/N would have been spinning in happiness around.

Nothing has changed, life’s fleeting for everyone except for Harry. He counts each day and night that goes without her beside him in his sleep, in the little picnics with Azalea and Niall, in the story reading at nights with his baby, in kitchen to watch the winters first rain prattling against that one window that’s old enough to carry the remains of his ancestors, she’s never there to share a noodle pot with him while he sits and eat alone, never there to patch his favourite socks back, to kiss his forehead whenever he leaves home, to call him sweet names and to laugh with him on his silly jokes, to do thumb fights, to get angry with him whenever he refuses to layer himself in cold.

Never.

Never physically. But, she’s always there in his heart, her presence lurks around him and he could feel the warmth of her wrapping around him whenever he falls asleep watching telly.

“What did y'learn today bubba?” He asks Azalea and grins cheekily when Azalea babbles, “Colours!”

“That’s fuckin’ amazin'!” At that a huge gush of breeze hits him in face a tiny branch of the tree they’re standing under falls on his head.

“Kay' kay fine! No cursing.” He squeaks in defence pouting down at the grave of his lovie and his face splits into a grin when his hair glittered up with cherry blossom leaves.

“We miss you very much,” His voice heavy and sad. He gulps chokingly and blinks away the glossiness, stroking a thumb up Azalea cheek who’s sitting in Harry’s lap.

Every evening they come to meet Y/N, the hole in his heart couldn’t fill up of her void but the soothing feeling of relief that she’s in their garden and nearer to him has lessened the grief.

“G’na meet you tomorrow, our baby’s mighty hungry.” He chuckles hearing the grumbling noises coming from Azalea’s belly.

“You’re so cheeky baby.” His eyes glimmers and he feels himself swooning into breeze, “How’s it going in heaven?” He asks airily tracing his initials beside her beautiful name engraved at the tombstone and it’s like she’s scolding him when he gets a nip on his pointy finger.

“Azalea kiss mommy a goodbye.” Harry breaks into laughter when Azalea bobs his head and almost tumbles of his daddy’s lap in the effort to reach the tombstone.

“Goodbye beautiful.” Harry whispers kissing the top of her tombstone and his heart bursts into lilacs when once again he’s showered into petal like leaves.

“I love you too, baby.” Finally he has accepted to say goodbyes.

[littlefreya]

Santa Baby

Summary: For over a decade, detective Walter Marshall kept a dirty little secret, thinking no one would ever find out about his past. Sadly for him, you are somewhat of a detective yourself.

Challenge prompt: the song Santa Baby.

Pairing: Walter Marshall x reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: Some sexy themes but mostly fluffy floof fluff.

A/N: This is for @toomanystoriessolittletime​​ Christmas challenge, which I am sadly a day late with. Remind me to never sign up to challenges. I stumbled upon erotic book covers that looked a lot like Walter (this and this) so decided it’s a funny idea. I never read these books, so I am not mocking it or the artist who drew it. Many thanks to @wondersofdreaming​ for helping me out. Not beta’d, I own my mistakes.

Please feedback, comment, reblog if you enjoyed reading. 💖

Title: Santa Baby

It’s not that Detective Marshall was the Grinch or anything, it’s just that he couldn’t afford to be merry. With crime levels peaking during that time of the year, and sunlight being scarce, his body ran strictly on caffeine and stale doughnuts. 

The temptation to spend Christmas eve sprawled on the worn-out leather sofa in his office was quite strong tonight. But even big hulking bears had their weaknesses, and as exhausted as he was, he dreaded every morning he woke up without your warm body curled up beside him. 

With his energy level blinking red, he finally decided to call it a night and drive home. Heavy growling and thundering drums roared within his truck, the extreme Scandinavian black-metal he listened to served as a complete contrast to the soft snow that fell from the sky and quietly piled up on the sides of the road. Pausing at the street-light, he watched the little crystals striving to form on his windshield and melting just as quickly against the heat of the car. 

For a single moment, all the terrors of the night diminished by the little flame that was the reminiscent of you - his little firefly who led him through the darkness, tender as snow and wild as fire. Accelerating just a tad, he imagined you’d be asleep by the time he’d get there, and if not, Walter hoped to at least be in your good graces. 

Luckily, ther warm orange hues beaming through the windows assured him that you were still very much awake, and he couldn’t help but spare one of his rare smiles.

Muffled tunes of a familiar song played beyond the door, the bass vibrating through the polished wooden flooring and the walls. Slow and sensual like honey rolling off one’s finger, the jazzy beats filled the spacious house along with the sweetest scent of crushed peppercorn and red berries. Smiling wider, he held onto the doorframe and kicked off his heavy boots.

“Pet?” he called and followed into the living room, hearing you humming along with the lyrics.

“Santa baby, just slip a Sable under the tree for me.”

Oh, he was indeed in your good graces. 

Sitting on your knees with your ankles hunched below your ass, you wore a velvety Santa hat and a sheer, red nighty finished by fake white fur that outlined your breasts. Your hands held a shiny green present over your thighs, and you gave him one of those coy looks that made him want to fall before you and pledge himself as your servant.

Instead, he crooked an eyebrow and unzipped his thick winter coat, carelessly discarding it on the floor and making his way toward you.

“Have you been an awful good girl?” 

Sleeves rolled up; he crossed his muscular arms together while towering over you. His cobalt eyes drank in your sight, trying to decide what to do with you first. The scent of musky sweat mingled with dark cologne wafted over you within seconds, making your chest rise and sink in a primal instinct. 

“Oh, I’m definitely going down your chimney tonight,” he growled upon your reaction to his presence and sucked in his bottom lip with growing hunger.

“At least three times,” you dared him in return and then casually lowered your gaze to the box perched on your lap. 

The large man caught on the hint and carefully knelt before you. One of his hands reached to stroke his beard while his mind rummaged to figure out what surprise hid behind the shiny package. 

“Got something for me over there?” he wondered with a playful beam, “I thought we’re not doing presents until tomorrow morning.”

“Just a little teaser,” you answered. Your eyes shone brighter than the large decorated tree that stood at the corner of the living room. 

Being a detective, Walter could practically smell the mischief that drenched every teeny hair on your body. As usual, his naughty vixen was up to no good. It always made him laugh how bad you were in trying to surprise him, which worked in his favour. Walter hated surprises. 

Intrigued, he snatched the gift from your hands and shook it against his ear for shy second before beginning to unwrap it. His eyes briefly scrutinised yours, darkening, smokey with lust while he tore at the chrome paper and absentmindedly threw pieces of green wrapping all over the living room. 

You watched carefully, your cheeks rounding and filling, your teeth flashing with wickedness upon seeing the colour drain from his rugged face.

“Where…”

Walter paused and swallowed the lump in his throat. Fingers oily with sweat and knuckles turning white, dug into the object held in his hand.

“How did you find this?!”

The snort you’ve been trying to hold back for the last couple of minutes finally made its way out, followed by a fit of uncontrollable giggles that made you fall to your back with your hand held over your torso. 

Walter, on the other hand, was anything but amused. He always feared the day someone would dig up his dirtiest secret.

It was more than a decade ago when he was struggling to pay his tuition to the police academy that Walter found an easy and quick way to make money. As a British immigrant who barely had friends and blended with the crowd, he made the mistake of thinking no one will ever know about his short-lived modelling career for cheesy erotic novels. 

He should have known better. He might have been a professional police detective, but you had a skill for uncovering the truth.

“Where did you find this?” Walter repeated with a frown, clenching his jaw and waving the colorful book in the air.

Pausing your giggles merely for a second, you took a gander at the cover, focusing on the image of your dear husband’s open white shirt. There he was, the man you knew as a brooding, black-sweater wearing grump, lost in some green meadow with a half-naked chick. A deep dramatic gaze crisped his younger face, his nose inhaling the scent of her hair, and his hand laid flat upon her juicy rump. 

Oh the drama!

You tried to speak, but all that came out of your mouth was an uncontrollable peal of chuckles. The corny title of the book didn’t help either; his fiery love rod.

Walter sulked and suddenly shuffled to hover above you, one hand snapped at your wrist before the other discarded the book onto your sternum and joined in restraining your other arm. Led purely by instinct, your legs spread to straddle his wide waist and wrapped around his muscular ass.

Staring at your strong, intimidating husband, the laughter rolling from your lips slowly died down, yet the smile was still smeared between your cheeks, especially once you felt his groin pressing into yours.

“Woman!” the big bear growled at you, “I am not going to ask you more than once, where on earth did you bloody find this?”

“The second-hand bookstore,” you answered and glanced at the book lying upon your chest, “was looking for something raunchy to read when suddenly I noticed a familiar face.” You explained and then swallowed the dryness in your throat. 

“At first I thought I was hallucinating with all them Christmas carols eating into my brain, but then when I took a closer peek, I recognised my husband’s ‘fuck me’ stare.” 

Walter felt a burn rising in his throat and swerving to tingle at his bristly cheeks. If there ever was a moment when he regretted a life decision, that moment was now. He knew he’d never hear the end of it from you. You were dauntless and unyielding as the ocean, one of the reasons why he was utterly in love with you. 

Nostrils flaring, he tightened the grasp around your wrists and rolled his hips into yours, eliciting a small moan from your quivering lips. The thick bulge in his groin hardened at the calling of the hot, wet patch in your panties.

“Name your terms, woman.”

“You are going to read it to me,” you answered without even overthinking and gestured toward the book with your chin. “Every. night. before. bedtime. I want you to hold me in your big strong arms and read me a chapter from ‘his fiery love rod’, or else…”

“Or else?...” 

The fire from the mental suddenly illuminated your face, causing dark shadows to form over your irises and the hollows below your brows. “Your friends at the MPD are going to find out about this one,” you paused, “and the 12 others that you made.”

Taken back by your words, Walter gulped, his fingers became moist around your wrists as sheer horror seeped into his mind.

“You... you know about the others?”

You nodded at him and then snaked your legs around the back of his thighs to cage him in your grasp like a fickle dryad growing her roots around a helpless wanderer. With his attention faltering, you twisted your hips and rolled the two of you so you were on top. Fingers lacing into his, you pinned him down and leered over him with cascading triumph.

“12 books, all under our Christmas tree, detective, so you better be good to me tonight and satisfy all my needs.”

Adam apple bobbing up and down, Walter watched you with a mixture of awe and agitation. There was nothing he hated more than losing control, but damn if he didn’t adore his wicked queen, especially when you were in a joyous mood, which, as he found, tended to be contagious. The moments in which the grouchy detective felt at peace were rare to non-existent. It was only in the embrace of your thighs that he thought that for a minute, everything is going to be okay.

Noticing the muscles of his jaw somewhat relax, you reached for the Christmas hat and slipped it off your head, placing it atop of his curly mess instead. Your hands held firmly onto Walter’s shoulders, and with a careful twist, you flipped the two of you over once again and shoved him down your torso while blissfully chanting.

“Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight, hurry down the chimney tonight, hurry toniiiiiiiiiiight.”

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, ideas or parts it and claiming it as your own

Dividers by @firefly-graphics​

Disclaimer: I don’t own Night Hunter/Nomis or Walter Marshall

[levis-hazelnut]

Levi x Reader How To Be The Perfect Boyfriend

Summary: Levi advising others on how to make a woman happy (because men just seem to be oblivious to this and don’t know how to be the perfect boyfriend).

1. Always make time for her, brats. If you try to push her away, she'll find a way to get you to spend time with her.

As always, Levi would wake up after a couple of hours of sleep, which wasn't very healthy for him, and he would start his day. He has breakfast, has a half an hour break to do whatever he wants before his squad awaits him on the training ground. Once their training session finishes, he heads to his office, getting ready to make a start on the paperwork that resided on his desk. And that's when she comes in with a tray and a smile adorning her lips. She placed the tray on the wooden surface and gave him a cup of tea with steam dancing around over it. Levi quietly thanked her as she took her own cup of tea and sat on the edge of the desk. After taking a sip, smoky hues glanced at the face of the person he loved (though, he would never say that aloud unless he was in the mood to be sappy). He shot her a questioning look since she was just staring at him, her tea long forgotten. "What do you want?" he inquired. Without a single word leaving her lips, she leapt off of the desk and made herself comfortable on Levi's lap. He bit back a huff when she buried her face into the crook of his neck and placed butterfly kisses over his skin. "(Y/N), I have a shit ton of paperwork to do." "And...? Are you prioritising your work over me - your wonderful, loving, best ever girlfriend?" she sassed back, removing her face from his neck.

"You know I'm always putting you first. It's just that I want to finish this and deliver it to Eyebrows so he can get off my back." "Fine," the curt word left her lips as she got off of the raven-haired male. "I guess you don't love me anymore." The last thing he saw was a pout before she disappeared into his bedroom. He knew she was doing this just for attention, but he couldn’t sit around like this. Sighing, Levi ran a hand through his hair and scraped his chair against the floor, standing up and walking into the room his girlfriend decided to retreat to. She laid on her side, beautiful, (E/C) orbs on the radiant sky outside the window that was slightly ajar, letting a refreshing breeze into the room. Levi laid behind her, his chest barely brushing her back as he looped his muscular arms around her waist, tugging her closer to him. Even though he couldn't see her face, he could bet that she still forced on a pout that deterred a smirk from appearing. "I'm sorry, (Y/N)," he hummed, kissing the back of her neck. "I can leave the paperwork for later since I don't have to finish it until tomorrow." A smile sprang onto (Y/N)'s lips when she twisted her body around and snuggled into Levi after pecking his lips. He let a smile of his own conquer his lips, even though he was still mildly irritated that she always finds a way to make him waste time. "I love you, Levi." "And you know I do, too, otherwise, I wouldn't be here cuddling with you." 2. Do not call her 'brat' (unless you don't wish to reproduce).

There she was, training a bunch of poor excuses of soldiers meant to protect humanity. Yeah, well, forget about them, they have no significance. Only the woman teaching them does. She stood there with a wrinkle formed in between her brows, yet a miniature smile rested on her soft lips. Her arms were crossed over her chest as her melodic voice sounded over the hushed voices of scouts who had the fucking audacity to talk over her. She could obviously hear them, but being the generous person she is, she didn't bother in shouting at them. Or maybe it was because she knew it wouldn't make them stop. Anyway, back to her beautiful self: her luscious tresses danced with the faint breeze that caressed her face, which held glistening eyes, a boopable nose, and lips that Levi made swollen. Then, let's go to her amazing body that Levi has caused to ache and covered it in love bites and such. If you're getting sick of the description, just imagine the sexiest goddess and multiply her beauty by fifty. You'll still be nowhere near imagining the woman standing there, but it's the closest you could get. Once the scouts got to training and (Y/N) just watched over them, her boyfriend came into sight as he approached her. "Hey, my love," she beamed. "Hi, brat," Levi replied and was about to peck her nose, however, that didn't happen when he stumbled back when his girlfriend pushed him. A frown danced on his face. "What the hell are you doing?" "Don't call me 'brat'," she growled and edged closer to him before thrusting her knee into a place that seemed as if it had an effect on the boys watching as they all winced and let out sounds of pain. The Corporal dropped to the ground as his 'wonderful, loving, best ever girlfriend' smirked down at him before facing her squad. "Girls, this is how you deal with jerks that don't know how to treat you right. Now, get back to training!" After her little piece of advice, (Y/N) turned back around to the groaning Levi, sprawled on the floor. "Love ya, my honey," she piped and crouched down to peck his forehead. Fucking brat... Levi thought once her lips touched his skin. 3. Show that you love her; randomly attack her with affection, or just cheer her up when she's down, or simply keep her company while she's relaxing. Cheesy shit like that (do excuse my language, dipshits).

The sun beamed down on the training grounds (though, the sun could never compare to her smile) where scouts were lazing around because of the heat smouldering them. Levi could care less since he wasn't in the mood to scold them or train them. So, he headed over to (Y/N), who took cover under the shade of a tree that loomed over her as if protecting her. She sat down cross-legged on the emerald grass, leaning her back against the trunk of a tree as she had a book in her lap. As to not disturb her too much, Levi quietly neared her before settling on the grass beside her. She gazed at him with a tender smile touching her lips before facing the book again. He draped an arm around her shoulders and made her rest her head on his shoulder as he started to run his hands over her (H/C), silky tresses. The action soothed both of them. Shortly, lips softly pressed against the top of her head, which made her put the book down as she lifted her head off of Levi's shoulder to face him. A smirk stained his lips and (Y/N) leaned forward to kiss him. Fingers tangled themselves in her hair as she placed a single hand on his shoulder and shuffled closer to him. Teeth gently nibbled on her bottom lip and she parted them, letting his tongue slip into her mouth and dance with her wet muscle. A soft sigh left her lips and vibrated against his before they pulled away. (Y/N) licked the string of their combined saliva away, leaning her forehead against Levi's. No words were spoken, but that didn't matter since no words were needed. ~/~ Everyone had distress written all over their faces after another miserable expedition. Many losses, many injuries, many disasters. And everyone included (Y/N). She was in her room, lying down in her bed with the covers encasing her as she quietly sobbed, clutching a piece of fabric against her chest. Marie, her best friend that she's known ever since she joined the Survey Corps, had died on this expedition. She hadn't been there to try to save Marie and she blamed herself for that. She blamed herself for being a terrible friend. "(Y/N)?" Levi softly called once he padded into her bedroom. He got no response, except sobs as he approached her. The raven sat on the edge of the bed and gently tugged (Y/N) onto his lap and cradled her, tucking her head under his chin. He hushed her like a mother to a child and rubbed comforting circles on her back.

He knew anything he tried to do would be useless since it was her best friend that she lost. Losing anyone was difficult, but losing someone that was close to you was something that no one wished to experience. "... I-I wasn't eve-en th-there in h-he-er... last mo-oments-s..." "Shh. It’s not your fault, my love." With some more calming words, her sobs soon quietened and there were only a few tears. Levi forced her to get ready for bed and sleep since she hasn't rested since they came back from the expedition. Her boyfriend changed into something more comfortable before crawling in next to her. He wrapped his arms around his girlfriend protectively and pulled her close, promising that he'll keep her safe, no matter what. ~/~ The (H/C)-haired female stared out of her open window, watching over the scouts that messed around on the training grounds as a subconscious smile fell on her face. She was so engrossed in the azure sky, the puffs of white, the luminous spotlight and the scouts, that she didn't even hear her office door open. She continued smiling and staring until a fit of giggles suddenly took over. She tried slapping away the hands that tickled her sides and squirmed in her spot before slowly dropping to the ground as fingers proceeded to tickle her further. "Levi!! Stop, stop!! Levi, seriously...! I'm going to pee myself!" she said in between giggles and pants, trying to push the human on top of her off. Soon, there was no movement, only (Y/N)'s chest rising and falling as she caught her breath and gazed into grey hues. Once oxygen was back into her lungs, slightly chapped lips moulded with hers for a slow dance as she was pinned to the floor. "What was all this for?" she whispered with a grin when their lips parted. "I was bored and you were off guard." "Hm. I love you so much, Levi," she hummed and brushed his ebony locks back from his forehead. "I love you so much, too," he murmured before smashing his lips against hers once more. 4. Never call her a monster when she's on her period. Also, always attend to her needs before said monster comes out.

Levi just barely dodged the book that was thrown at him as he retreated into his office, trying to take cover from the monster that lay in his bed. Though, he shouldn't call her monster anymore since the book was launched at him for that very reason. Not wanting to interact with the beast any further, he sat at his desk and finished off the pile of paperwork that decided to wander onto the surface. "Levi!!” At the scream of his name, the aforementioned male's hand had slipped and caused the ink to ruin the page. He clicked his tongue as quietly as he could before getting up and leaning against the doorframe of his bedroom. "Yes?" "Could you get me some mint tea, my darling?" she asked with an innocent voice. "Okay," Levi said and walked away, leaving to get (Y/N) tea, being the amazing boyfriend he is. "Levi!" What's the fuck is wrong now? Levi groaned internally before facing her once again. "When you come back, can you cuddle with me?" "... Sure." "Okay. Thank you, my sweetheart." Finally, he was able to leave his office and not have to her screaming his name. Yeah, she was in a bed, but he would prefer if he was in that bed with her as she screamed his name. However, he can't do that right now. Levi made (Y/N) her tea before going back to his room and giving it to her. She took a sip, let out a satisfied sigh before yanking the short male down onto the bed. Damn, even though she's in pain, she's fucking strong. His chest collided with hers before he rolled onto the side, embracing her and rubbing circles on her abdomen that seemed to help her. "Levi?" "Hm?" "Do you hate me?" "... No." Ah, the hesitation. Why did he hesitate? If he didn't, everything would be fine. "I said: Levi, do you hate me?" she repeated, gritting her teeth. "Of course not, darling. I love you more than you could ever imagine." Ugh, those words made him feel nauseous, but if it meant he could keep his head, he would say it.

Well, it's not like he was lying. 5. Help her. She may be terrifying and strong at times, but she still acts like a damsel in distress when she's perfectly fine.

Levi sat at his desk, pen in hand as his eyes grazed over the words written on a piece of paper that resided on his desk. It was almost fucking midnight and he had to send in this report to Erwin by tomorrow morning. Distracting him from his work, (Y/N) stumbled into his office and dropped a tray that held two cups of tea. He barely regarded her before getting back to his task, knowing she was glaring at him, but decided to do nothing about it. "Levi!" "What do you want?" he muttered. "Would you mind helping me?" "You're the one that dropped it." Her eyes narrowed and she clenched her fists before standing up and storming over to his desk. This is when he finally decided to look at her when she towered over him with her index finger pointing towards him. "You're such a jerk, you know." "I know. Go clean up that mess." She sighed and flicked his forehead before doing as he said, no matter how impolite he was being. Once she wiped up the tea with wipes and a spray, she started to clean up the shattered glass. As she did that, Levi crouched down in front of her and helped his girlfriend, who just stared at him. "Stop looking at me like that, just be grateful I'm helping your clumsy ass." She smiled before quietly hissing in pain. Concern flickered in the raven's eyes, but soon confusion appeared when she was still smiling. "I'm fine. I just got a bit of glass in my finger." The female with (E/C) eyes stood up and put her finger in the light so she could see the glass. A shadow prevented that from happening as Levi took her hand and easily removed it before putting it into a tissue. "Thank you, my love,” she beamed. 6. Push bitches away. Once you do that, show her that she's the only one you want.

Levi had been forced to go to a ball of sorts with Erwin and Hanji. But of course, he despises snobby shitheads and pigs flaunting their money, so why would he want to go to an event full of those creatures? After much complaining, Erwin had told him that he could bring (Y/N) along, and that had shut Levi up. And there they were, dressed in formal clothes as they followed Erwin around, conversing with people. "This shit's boring as hell," Levi murmured to his beloved who had hooked her arm with his. "Do you want to dance?" "Are you stupid? I hate dancing." "Oh, come on, baby. We've danced before." "Yeah, I did that for you. I'm not doing it again. Not even if it would get rid of titans." "Fine... Could you get me a drink, please, then?" "Sure." She let Levi go over to a table and get drinks for both of them as she wandered over to Hanji who was talking to some woman. The brunette gave (Y/N) a grin before introducing her to the woman she was talking to. "It's nice meeting you, (Y/N). And I just want to say that the man you were walking with is gorgeous." "Yes, he definitely is," she smiled. Only Hanji knew that it was a fake smile. "I'm lucky since I've been with him for a few years now," she made sure to add, so this woman knows to stay the fuck away. "Oi, you lot, get off of me," Levi snarled, trying to push a couple of women away and making sure not to spill the drinks he was holding. "Well, you have nowhere to go, do you now?" one of them spoke, batting her eyelashes and dragging a finger from his collarbone down to his waistband. He put a glass down on the table and slapped that hand away before it could go further, shooting the woman a glare. "Touch me one more fucking time and you're going to lose that hand," he threatened darkly. Levi doesn't care who he's talking to, be it a woman or not. No one touches him like that. Yeah, right now, he sounds like a dickhead for treating women like this, but he would be even more of a dickhead if he didn't attempt to push them away when he has the most perfect woman by his side. "And I actually do have a place to go to. You see, my girlfriend over there wants to dance. You know the one in that icy blue dress? Yeah, that's her. And, oh look, she sees me so she's going to slap every single one of you if you don't fucking get your shitty hands off of me." Hm. Looks like that scared them, Levi smirked mentally once they all decided to move away. He straightened his clothes and passed (Y/N) a glass of wine as she glared at the women that scurried away. "Come, let's dance," the Corporal slipped her hand into his and led her to the other dancing couples. "I thought that you didn't want to dance." "I will if it means that those b*tches will leave me alone." The (H/C)-haired female gave Levi a tender smile (she knew that it wasn't because of that reason) as she placed one hand on his shoulder as the other clutched his hand. The raven's other hand rested on her waist before they swiftly danced as (E/C) and grey clashed. (Y/N) lifted her hand off of Levi's shoulder and he spun her around before bringing her back close to him. Soon, their dancing slowed down and all they focused on was each other's eyes before standing completely still amidst the other couples that moved their way around the hall. Levi rested his forehead against the one of the woman he loved, their lips barely brushing. However, a couple bumped into them which disrupted their moment that felt as if they were the only two people in the room. Levi caught his beloved before she could tumble over. Looking to see who it was, grey hues met blue and brown ones. Hanji and Erwin. "Tch." "Hi, (Y/N), Shorty! Keep your kissing for later." 7. If you love her as much as you claim to, propose. That will make her feel as if she's the happiest woman alive (and it will make you feel as if you’re the happiest man alive).

(Y/N) and Levi laid in bed together, entangled in each other's arms with their legs overlapping as they peacefully slept. (Y/N) had her face hidden in the crook of Levi's neck as her chest pressed against his. The raven tucked her head under his chin as his arms rested around her naked figure. They had stayed up most of the night, doing things. And the good thing is that everyone had a day off today so they could sleep in as much as they wanted. They may miss breakfast, but that didn't matter. The sunlight scattered through the curtains in Levi's bedroom, resting on his girlfriend's face which caused her to close her eyes tighter as a frown settled onto her visage. She turned away from the light, which meant turning her back to her boyfriend, who quietly groaned. He subconsciously tugged her closer to him and buried his nose in her hair. A yawn left her lips as she slowly opened her eyes, blinking a few times. She smiled at the feeling of Levi's arms that kept her warm and safe before closing her eyes again. When she did that, she felt light kisses peppering over her neck, causing a sigh of delight to leave her lips as lips trailed down her spine. He went further down and nipped on one of her butt cheeks so she let out a small yelp and lifted her foot to kick him. Of course, however, she had no idea where she was aiming. A grunt sounded and the grip on her loosened. "You really don't want kids, do you?" he grumbled in his husky, morning voice that also hinted with pain. "You want kids? Even though you hate brats?" she snapped with her back still facing him. She felt his hands travel over her hips to find her hands. He acknowledged which hand was which and took her left one in his. "If they're yours, I want them after we get married," he hummed, slipping something light and cold onto her finger. "... Wait... No. Are you joking? Levi, I swear, if you're joking, I'll straight-up murder you," she threatened after turning around to face him when she noticed a smile resting on his lips. "I'm not joking. I'm being serious," he chuckled lightly. "I love you, (Y/N). I don't want to lose you and I always want you by my side. So, (Y/N) (L/N), will you marry me?" "You idiot, of course, I will," (Y/N) sobbed and embraced her, now, fiancé. "I love you so fucking so much." And that, brats, is how to be the perfect boyfriend. You're welcome, dumbshits - by Levi.

[tomtenadia]

A Little Braver - 23

Here we are... the fluff is finally here and Rowan is back.

Enjoy the chapter.

6 months later  

The months and seasons had slowly turned and autumn in Terrasen was in full swing with the trees now having lost of all of their leaves and the days turning chilly and October had brought with it all the smells of the season.

Rowan got out of the airbase and looked up at the sky and he could smell snow in the air. His favourite type of weather. He breathed in deeply and enjoyed for a second the feeling of being on land once again after months on a ship. This last deployment had taken a toll on the whole squadron and all of his team members had plans of enjoying their well deserved time off.

“Rowan!” A voice called him and he turned seeing Gavriel coming his way “need a lift somewhere?”

“I was going to call a taxi.”

“Come, I’ll drive you to the fire station.” The man said, knowing full well where Rowan was headed.  

Rowan nodded and thanked him. Aelin had told him she was coming off shift around noon. It was eleven and he had some time. 

“Are you looking forward seeing Aelin again?” Asked Gavriel once in the car.

“Yes, I have missed her like crazy.”

The man at his side chuckled “you never missed Lyria this much. Never spent so much time on your phone either calling her or texting her.”

Rowan sighed “Aelin is different.”

Gavriel nodded “you found a great one. Truly.”

Gavriel had never been a fan of Lyria either. And the more he thought about it the more he realised that a lot of people have never been keen on his ex wife. No one ever believed she was actually in love with him, but his friends now were fully supporting him with Aelin. Maybe this was how it was actually meant to go.

While he was wool-gathering they had arrived at the fire station and Gav had parked beside the pavement to let him out. 

“Have fun you two.”

“Have a nice time off too, my friend.”

Rowan grabbed his duffel bag and turned to the yard. The doors to the apparatus floor were closed. He peeked through the glass and spotted engine and truck. Good, they were in. Now he had to try and make it a surprise.

A moment later he spotted Luca coming out of the main communal area and grabbed his arm “shhh Luca, it’s me.”

The young man turned and smiled deeply when he recognised him.

“Can you please ask Aelin if she can come out here? Invent an excuse, please.” The boy grinned and nodded in understanding “welcome back, captain. She missed you.”

“I missed her too.” He admitted while adjusting his uniform.

At that Luca walked out and Rowan bravely climbed on top of the engine. Dropped his bag and lay low until he heard her voice.

“Luca, what is it? Is there something wrong with the rigs?”

Rowan kept silent and hid a bit better but with his height it was difficult. He also felt the crazy urge to giggle like a schoolgirl.

His legs hit the rail and he noticed her turn around looking for the origin of the sound.

“Come out. Show your face. I can kick your arse.”

He grinned and sat on the rig with his legs swinging from the edge while she had her back at him “Is that so, captain?”

He saw her turn and her expression morphed in the smile he adored. Being apart from her had been hell. He had no true idea how mad he was about her until he was forced to spend six months away from Aelin. The thought that he still had four years of that, made him want to scream.

Aelin gasped as she noticed Rowan sitting on top of the fire engine “you are back.” She said softly and Rowan nodded and heard her sniffle “you are truly back.” Aelin could not believe her eyes and for a moment she thought she had fallen asleep and it was all a dream.

“Come up here and see it for yourself.”

Aelin moved as if in a daze, slowly climbed the ladder and once at the top his strong arms pulled her to him and they fell into a heap on top of the hoses.

“Hey you…” he said as Aelin lay on top of him. Her blue eyes fixed on him.

“Hey you…” she replied burying her face in the crook of his neck to inhale the scent of him. He was home, he was back. He was real. Rowan’s arms wound around her in a tight hug “you have no idea how much I missed you. Since they told us when we were coming back I have been counting the days that I still had to spend away from you.”

Aelin did not reply she just melted in his embrace “you have been away from me 192 days and 20 hrs.” She said softly against his neck. She had counted each single day and the more they accumulated, the more she longed for the moment she could hug him and kiss him again.

“It felt like an eternity.”

Rowan turned his face and finally met her gaze and his eyes dropped to her lips and she must have noticed his stare because she looked up at him and kissed him.

The taste of her lips was enough to cancel all the longing of those months apart. He deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing her lips until she opened for him and a moan escaped Rowan’s mouth as tongues clashed and she moved fully on top of him.

“Aelin…” he said against her lips.

“I know, we are on top of the engine and I know how paranoid you are. Let’s just make out for a while, then once I am off shift we can go home and indulge in more private activities.”

They made out heavily for a good half an hour, then they finally came up for breath. With his hand Rowan pulled back a strand of hair from her face then flipped her nose feeling desperate for contact with her even if they were almost glued together.

“You seem tired.”

Her head thumped on his chest “long and busy shift.”

“Looks like someone needs some heavy cuddling tonight.”

She stared at him and grinned “always. And a back rub.”

“Something else?”

Her grin became wicked “of course, but later.”

She had so much to tell him but she would do it once they were back at home. On top of a fire engine was not ideal.

“I thought you were going to bring Lorcan too.”

“He will meet with Elide later I think. He always has a lot to do after we come back from a mission. But he will see her. The man has been pining like crazy.”

Aelin laughed “honestly? I can’t believe it.”

“Hey I was there and I couldn’t believe it.”

Aelin sat up “come on, let’s go and say hi to the others.”

“No,” he pulled her down back to him and squeezed her.

She brushed his hair and he closed his eyes and he almost purred in delight. Aelin smiled. Iceman, the man who seemed incapable of showing emotions was addicted to cuddling.

They stayed on top of the rig until Aelin heard Peter’s voice and second team arriving.

“Come on, buzzard, second team is here which means it’s time for us to go home.”

Swiftly she made her way down and Rowan followed.

“Hi Pete!” She greeted him happily.

The man looked behind her back “welcome back, sir.”

Rowan turned red at being caught sneaking down the engine but the other captain did not seem bothered.

“Thank you. It’s nice to be back.”

In that instant her whole team poured out in the main area and spotted Rowan behind her.

“Oh, that’s why she never got back.” Said Brullo.

“Yes, yes, the captain and I were cuddling on top of the rig. Now go home and relax.”

Lysandra moved closer to her ear “go and get some, girl. Just don’t make me an aunt yet.”

Aelin laughed “promise.”

The team walked out and Aelin grabbed Rowan’s hand “let me get out of this uniform.”

They reached the changing rooms and it was full of the guys from the second team. She went to her locker and opened the door and disappeared behind it.

“How was the night, cap?”

“Long,” she said, popping her head from behind the door “it seemed like the whole of east Orynth needed us last night.” She saw Rowan on the doorstep and smiled at him while wearing a polo shirt and then a hoodie “oh yeah we had to evacuate a couple who got stuck in an elevator.” And she grinned at Rowan “and by the time we got to open the trap they had decided to pass the time in an interesting way.”

“No bloody way,” commented Peter from his corner.

“The idiots,” she slammed the locker closed “I’ll see you all in a day.” She grabbed her bag and joined Rowan who was waiting for her. He pulled his arm around her shoulder “do you always change with the guys around?”

“Are you jealous?” he did not reply.

“Ro,” she stopped “they are not interested in me. And if I have to strip naked for my shower I’ll do it in private. But if they see me in my knickers and bra, what’s the difference with strangers seeing me in a bathing suit?” She replied “and as you saw I wear sports bra and comfy knickers for work. The sexy stuff is just for you.”

“I guess that firefighting with a thong is not recommended.”

Aelin laughed and they got to the car “jump in, buzzard.”

Before going home they stopped at the supermarket and Aelin explained she had nothing in the house and Rowan rolled his eyes muttering something about her diet.

At the supermarket she went to get a hand held basket but Rowan pulled her towards the bigger trolleys telling her that they needed to do a big shopping since he was back and was going to cook.

Once inside, Rowan offered to push the trolley and Aelin just grabbed his arm and walked at his side, happy at the domestic scene. They were shopping together and he had not mentioned his flat. Maybe she was worrying about nothing about asking to make it official and move in with her.

“Why are you buying all these veggies?” She asked him as he stopped at the vegetables and fruit aisle.

“To cook.” He stooped for a kiss “and stop complaining.”

They kept walking around the supermarket and Aelin saw the trolley getting fuller and fuller. It looked as if Rowan had every intention of keeping her well fed. Not that she complained.

An hour later they finally made it to the checkout. Rowan told her to put the groceries on the belt while he packed and she giggled at the military precision with which he packed.

She paid for the shopping and he carried the bags back to the car.

“We should have a budget for groceries. This one was big because you have nothing in the house.”

“Make sure the budget allows for chocolate expenses.”

“We’ll see.”

They got back in the car and not long after they were finally back at home. 

Once inside, Rowan dropped the bags on the kitchen island and started unpacking straight away. 

Aelin dropped his bag in the bedroom and joined him in the kitchen with bird Rowan in her arms “someone else wants to say hi.”

Rowan smiled “it’s actually quite nice. It looked lovely online.”

Aelin hugged the toy “he is so soft.”

“Come on, help me unpack.” She put bird Rowan back in the bedroom and went back to the kitchen and together they methodically unpacked the groceries ready to feed a family of five.

Slowly she watched her fridge become full again, something she hadn’t seen in six months.

“Now, let me take a shower, get changed and I’ll make lunch.” He kissed her softly and Aelin purred.

“A quick shower. If you come in as well we’ll never have lunch.”

“Spoilsport.” She turned but Rowan grabbed her arms and pulled her to his chest, his arm around her waist and his mouth on her neck trailing hot kisses along its length. Aelin threw her head back, but Rowan pulled back “fun times later. Food first.”

Aelin groaned in silence at the loss of contact with his body.

When he came back from his quick shower he found her on their bed with her huge hockey jersey and a pair of shorts, barely visible under the huge item of clothing. His eyes landed on her long legs and until that moment he had not fully realised how desperately he needed her. But lunch was a priority and he could not get distracted.

“Come on young lady, let’s go and get you fed.” He offered her a hand and Aelin climbed down the bed and they got to the kitchen.

Aelin sat on the counter and studied him while he set out all of the ingredients and started prepping them.

Then she decided to be brave and pose the question “Ro, do you want to move in with me? As in officially?”

Rowan looked at her perplexed “I thought that’s what we were doing? Living together?”

“Are we though? We never talked about it. You just stayed here after the accident.”

“So?” He asked while slicing the carrots.

“You still have your flat and some stuff there. And I understand if you want to keep your place for yourself to have a moment away from me if it gets too much. I know I am an handful.”

Rowan threw the veggies in the pan and then moved to her.

“Rowan the hob.” She ordered him. Her firefighter paranoia kicking in.

He switched off the gas and moved to her, between her legs and gently took her face in his hands “I only kept my flat in case you got fed up with me and threw me out. I don’t need it. I can sell it.” His hand brushed her hair “I thought I threw you enough hints that I was not moving out. Yes, you are a handful but I love living with you.”

Her arms went around his neck “so we are doing it.” Rowan nodded and kissed her “I can bring all my stuff here in the next few days.”

“I have a spare bedroom, dump your stuff in there.” She grinned and her legs went around his back and kissed him in a dangerous way, but he pulled back.

“Lunch?”

“I am famished.”

“Then let me cook.”

She smiled and swinged her legs happily. She could not believe it. She and Rowan had been together officially for around nine months but only spent three of those together and they were now officially shacking up. She was excited and for some strange reason it felt normal. With Sam it had taken much longer. They had been dating for over a year before she asked him. But with Rowan had felt natural, probably because of how their living situation had started.

“Now, this is how a stir fry looks like.”

“Still too many veggies.”

“Menace.”

Aelin grinned and stole a piece of chicken from the pan. His food tasted so much better than her mess.

Eventually they finished dinner and ended up on the sofa, Aelin all cosied up against him mentally getting ready to tell him everything that had happened while he was away.

“Ro,” she said softly, holding him “I have to tell you something.”

He looked down to her and her tone scared him.

“What, Fireheart?”

Aelin loosened a breath “while you were away a lot of stuff happened. Bad stuff.”

She felt him stiffen “how bad?”

And Aelin told him. About Hamel, her working with the police. Being assaulted in the house, Aedion being shot and the wedding postponed. Her going undercover and almost getting killed again before the detectives shot Hamel. About Hamel being the cause of Sam and Thomas’ deaths.”

Rowan stood abruptly and started pacing in the living room. His expression difficult to read. Rowan paced a bit more and a few times it seemed like he wanted to say something but then stopped. There was rage in him.”A guy, a stranger was in our house and tried to kill you. Hamel’s men tried to kill Aedion and you, not happy of all this, just went and played cop and almost got killed again?” He was not raising his voice but Aelin knew, he was furious. He paced around the coffee table “Rutting hell, what the fuck were you thinking?”

Aelin was taken aback by the harshness of his words “why you didn’t tell me?” His tone angry. His hand nervously ran through his hair. For a brief second he even stopped his pacing but never looked at Aelin in the eyes.

“You were away. How could I?” She stood in front of him “if I had told you, you would have worried and not concentrated on your job and risked getting killed. And I could not have that. I…” she felt tears stinging her eyes “I can’t lose you.”

“What if I lost you?” He shouted back at her, giving his back to Aelin “I can’t lose you either. And I almost did. Twice.” He walked out on the balcony and Aelin let him go and went back to the bedroom and curled on the bed hugging bird Rowan. And cried.

Rowan leaned against the rail of the balcony and stared at the lights of the city slowly coming alive as darkness fell. He was furious, but not at her. He was mad at fate who gave him a woman to love once again and did its best to take her from him. In an instant all his fears, all his doubts and his reasons for not getting involved again had come back. He took his head in his hands and the weak part in him told him to bail. To ignore that just earlier they had taken an extra step in their relationship and just get out of there. Go back being alone and cold. It was far easier. 

Except it was not.

He turned to the house and looked at the bedroom. Aelin was curled in bed. He could not leave her. No matter the fears, he could not give up on her, not when she brought him happiness and gave him again the will to feel. He could not go back to a life of ice, pain and guilt. So he did the only thing he could do. He walked back to their bedroom.

She was all curled up and hugging the bird he gave her.

He climbed in bed with her and pulled her closer but Aelin turned and faced him, her eyes all puffy.

“I am sorry, I am a jerk.” he whispered, brushing her hair from her face and drying her tears with the back of his hand “I haven’t seen you in six months and all I can do is shout at you.” He kissed her once “I am not mad at you. Yes, you are reckless but I am more mad at what happened.” He hugged Aelin and drew her closer “I can’t stand the idea that you had to go through all this. And Sam…”

Aelin buried her face in his neck “I am better. Lys and the guys kept me from breaking down. Without them I don’t know…”

Rowan sighed “I should have been here. It looks like I haven’t learned from my past.” At the deep anguish in his voice, Aelin grabbed his face and kissed him deeply.

“You make me stupidly happy.” He told her, a hand brushing her head “and no matter how scared I am of your job or of what the future holds for us, I am not letting you go.” But she sensed unease in his voice.

She sniffled  “you are still a bit mad at me.”

Rowan shook his head “no, not at you. At a lot of things, yes. But not mad at you.” His forehead brushed hers “I was overwhelmed and I overreacted. I am glad you did not tell me.” His nose bumped hers “you are right I would have been worried sick and not being able to concentrate and in our line of jobs is a deadly thing.”

Aelin nodded and kissed him gently “thank you for coming back to me.” She whispered against his lips.

“I made you a promise.” His hand sneaked under her shirt, caressing the length of her back. Aelin rolled on her back and pulled her jersey off, remaining only in her shorts. Rowan’s gaze became lustful and she pulled him down to her for a heated kiss. Rowan reached for the back of his t-shirt and pulled it off and discarded it on the floor and then moved on top of her, caging her head between his arms. Aelin took in the expanse of his chest with her hands, then followed the lines of his tattoo with her fingers. 

“I missed this so much,” he whispered as his head ducked in the crook of her neck.

“Definitely better than on the phone,”Aelin joked pulling him down to her completely, skin touching. His mouth trailed south leaving scorching kisses on her collarbone and then down to her breasts. Aelin’s back arched on instinct and in response Rowan took one of her hard peaks in his mouth and Aelin moaned, fingers burying in his back and leaving gentle moon-shaped marks.

Aelin rocked her hips for friction and she felt Rowan grin “so impatient.”

“I need you…” she breathed “we can have all the foreplay in the second run, but not now…”

His mouth bit lightly on her neck then his hand slid down until it hit the band of her shorts and knickers “so I guess you don’t need these…” and in a swift motion she was bare in front of him.

“Well, if I am naked, so do you, captain.” Rowan smiled and peeled off his briefs. He leaned back down and her legs wrapped around him and she pulled him much closer until she felt him nudge her near where she desperately needed him.

“I love you,” he whispered and after months apart they met again.

*

Aelin was sitting against the head of the bed and Rowan’s head was in her lap while her fingers played gently with his hair “do you know how to ice skate?” She asked him.

“A bit, why?”

“They opened an ice rink down in the main square and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me. It’s been a long time since I did it.” He turned on his back and looked up “I’d love to. Want to go tonight?”

Aelin nodded “can we have dinner out as well? Have a proper date?”

“Are you asking me out, captain?” Rowan smiled and stretched his arm to caress her cheek.

“Well, it’s my right as well to woo my boyfriend.”

Rowan smiled and sat back up and went to kiss her “I am yours.”

“What time does your shift starts tomorrow?”

“At ten and it’s my usual 24hrs shift.” She told him.

“We should not stay out too long. You came off another night shift this morning and never slept. I need to tuck you in in bed early.”

“Yes, sir.”

Rowan got off the bed and stood, holding out his hand to her “come on, miss firefighter, let’s get you ice skating.”

Aelin beamed in joy and got off the bed and went to put some clothes on. A polo shirt and her favourite TFD hoodie. Then she moved to the bird toy and got her dog tags from it.

“Make sure you have a nice layer on, it’s getting colder outside.” He pulled a scarf around her neck “forecast says it might snow.”

Aelin groaned “I love winter, but snow always causes so many accidents.” Then she realised what she said “I am sorry, I didn’t mean…”

He stooped to kiss her “it’s okay. I am fine.”

She smiled back at him, “let’s go skating, captain.”

Hand in hand they walked to the main square enjoying the chill air and the winter feeling.

“Look,” said Aelin once they reached the square  “They have street vendors.”

“I thought you wanted to go out for dinner.”

She turned around and walked backward facing him “but this is winter fair food. It’s so good.”

“Come,” Rowan grabbed her hand “I’ll buy you dinner.” They walked to one of the stall “what do you want?”

“A nice juicy burger.” She smelled the food around her “and a couple of skewers as well.”

Rowan bought the food for her and himself and they sat down on a bench munching away happily.

In front of her the ice rink was surrounded by people being happy and having fun. Then a little blonde girl with pig tails ran to her “hello, gorgeous.” Aelin picked up the girl “where are your parents?” The little girl pointed in a random place. Rowan ruffled her hair and the girl giggled happily.

Then all of a sudden “Lynne.” And a woman hurried towards them “momma.” The little girl screamed at recognising the woman. Aelin passed the child to her mother “thank you,” said the woman hugging her daughter.

“She was adorable,” said Aelin leaning her head against Rowan’s shoulder. He kissed her head “she really was.”

Rowan eventually stood and took Aelin’s hand “Ice skating?”

Aelin joined him and together they went to the rental place and got their skates and changed into them.

Aelin took tentative steps to the entrance of the rink while Rowan had his hand on her lower back.

While Rowan went for the cautionary approach and moved some baby steps on the ice, Aelin was being her usual carefree self and jumped straight in the fray “Come on, buzzard, it’s easy.”

By the time she completed a few laps around the rink, Rowan was still holding to the edge for dear life. She slid to him and took his hands “come with me.” She took his hands and placed them on her sides “easy… follow me.” Slowly he got more confident and they managed to skate hand in hand.

The hour on the the ice was up and they were sitting on a bench again when when Lys texted her that she and Aedion were meeting Elide and Lorcan and have dinner together and invited them as well.

“We don’t have to go if you don’t want to see Lorcan out of work.” But his smile turned wicked “Oh no, I need to see smitten Lorcan.”

Aelin leaned forward and kissed him “but no jokes in front of Elide.”

“Don’t worry I’ll just gather enough material to take the mickey out of him when we are alone.”

Gently she patted his arms “you really are evil.”

He nodded proudly “no news there. You should know by now.”

The other two couples arrived not long after and Rowan laughed at seeing Lorcan with his arm around Elide’s shoulders. The scene was almost ridiculous given how tall was the man compared to the woman.

“Aren’t they cute?” Whispered Aelin, grabbing his hand and walking toward the couple.

“Hi guys,” said a very happy Elide, waving her hand at Rowan and Aelin.

“Hi, darling.” Aelin hugged her friend and then looked up at the man at her side “evening, commodore.”

“I am just Lorcan tonight.”

Rowan snorted loudly “sure, Lor,”

“Lys and Aedion are on their way.” Added Aelin.

“Did you go ice skating?” Asked Rowan to his boss.

Elide laughed “I tried to convince him but he laughed at me.”

“Oh it would have been amazing to see the drunken giraffe.” commented Rowan with a wicked grin and Lorcan growled back at him “Whitethorn…”

“What’s the drunken giraffe?” Aelin smiled, ready for some snooping.

“Don’t you dare…”

And now the whole group was even more interested.

“So,” started Rowan with an evil grin “Lor was my captain and I was just a lieutenant. We had a team evening here in Orynth and it was winter. The ice skating rink was out. We had a few girls we wanted to impress, so we took them out.” He narrated, while Lorcan glared at him “Lorcan tried to skate but he is stupidly tall and well…” Rowan moved his arms with a jerky motion “it was hilarious.” He continued “his girl called him a drunken giraffe.”

Everyone burst out laughing and for a moment that story threw a funnier light on the man who seemed to be made of ice.

“Fine, fine Rowan you had your fun.”

Elide gave him a pat on his shoulder and in that instant Lysandra and Aedion joined them.

“We are here. Sorry we are late, parking was a pain.” 

Aelin jumped all excited “we can finally have dinner.”

“You haven’t stopped eating since we arrived.” And Rowan pulled Aelin to his chest and kissed her temple “I love my bottomless pit.”

“Ow, you two are so cute it’s disgusting.” Joked Lysandra wrapping her arm around Aedion’s midriff.

“Come on let’s go to dinner before Aelin turns hangry.” Elide took Lorcan’s hand and dragged him away and the rest followed. 

Once at the restaurants they got a table for six and sat down. Aelin grabbed the menu and started perusing “this place seems amazing.”

“I think we need a nice bottle of wine to celebrate that you two boys are finally back.” Suggested Elide who, all of a sudden, was confident and seemed to have lost all of her shyness.

The waiter came and took their order and as usual Aelin shocked the poor youngster with her gigantic order.

“Captain, are you sure you can afford feeding her?” Joked Aedion.

Rowan shrugged and smiled at Aelin “the bank doesn’t offer mortgages for feeding your girlfriend, apparently.”

The rest of the group laughed.

Then the wine arrived and they toasted and Aelin looked around at the table and smiled at the scene. Of being with her friends and Rowan. She placed her hand on his and gave him a big smile. She kept repeating to herself that he was back and he was real.

Lorcan took a sip of his wine “this feels nice,” and a weak smile painted his lips “after six months of bad food and no treats, this feels like bliss.”

“I didn’t pin you for a wine lover, commodore.” Said Aelin sipping her wine and agreeing with the man. It was a nice one he had got.

The man shrugged “we are posh boys, of course we like wine.” He gave her a half smile.

Aedion snorted “that’s all you can handle.”

“Ok,” almost shouted Lysandra “this is a dinner to have some fun together, not a pissing contest to see who is better between the army and the airforce. Now you three behave.” She pointed her finger at them and Aelin hid her smile behind her hand.

“So,” started Rowan trying to change the topic “any new plans for the wedding?”

Aedion nodded “we have a temporary date in January. We just need to find a venue and few other bits and bobs. And hope for no interruptions this time.”

“At least this time my girls will have their real partner at their side.” She looked at the two men “I am waiting for you two to melt when you see in their dress.

“Oh, believe me they did the first time around too.”

Rowan nodded remembering Aelin in her dress. Yeah the shower had been quite longer than his usual “Both Lorcan and I remember the dresses.” Admitted Rowan trying to sound as casual as possible.

Lorcan looked away almost embarrassed by the admission but Elide gently pinched his side “admit it, you loved it.”

“I did.” He said quietly.

“So captain,” began Lysandra while sipping more wine “are you going to teach our Aelin to cook?”

Rowan chuckled “I can try but I have a feeling it’s a suicide mission. As a soldier I can see when it’s time to push back and retreat.” He brushed his hand on her head softly “but it’s fine I love cooking.”

Aelin was about to reply but their food arrived and her focus disappeared on the plates placed in front of her.

“Sometimes I think she would find me more interesting if I dressed up as a giant hamburger.” She stuck out het tongue out at him and he flicked her nose. After six months away from her he was desperate for some contact. He would have loved to go home and partake in more interesting activities, but the idea of having dinner with the other two couples had been quite pleasant. And Aelin did not seem displeased by his extreme need for PDA.

“So, Lorcan, are you coming to the station one day to see Elide in action?” Suggested Aelin with a grin and Elide almost glared at her nervously.

The man lowered his fork and looked at her “I think I might.” Replied the man eagerly “I must admit, I am quite fascinated.”

“We can also give you a proper tour of the firehouse. The official one.”

“I think we can take them on the trucks, one each” suggested Aedion “I am happy to take the commodore. But you guys need to stay inside the truck.”

“Are you sure it’s okay?”

“Hey, I have seen you fly, it’s only fair.”

“You seen him fly?” Elide’s face turned to Lorcan “Can I see you fly?”

“I am sure the commodore and I can give you a lovely display of how I kick his arse.” And Rowan grinned wickedly at his boss.

“Please, please.” Singsonged Elide, taking his hand.

Lorcan nodded “let me know of a day off and we can get it organised.”

“Yes!” Shouted Elide all excited.

“Actually…”  continued Lorcan “we sometimes give tour of some ares of the base. I might be able to get permission to invite the whole station for a tour and with the excuse of a drill we can give you a show.” He explained “I think we owe it to the TFD for the help they gave us.”

Rowan stared at Lorcan in disbelief. He knew everyone joked but Elide really was doing the miracle on him. He had never seen his CO so relaxed and willing to offer a tour of the base. Usually he would  shove that kind of stuff to him. Rowan gave a big smile to Elide and a silent thank you. Lorcan actually seemed happy.

“I am sure the guys would love it.” Then Aelin turned to Aedion “are you willing to come for one day at posh house?”

“I guess I can do that.” And he smiled.

Lorcan nodded “Rowan, liaise with the captain and choose a suitable day.”

Rowan squeezed her hand under the table.

“Ok good, Rowan is coming to the station tomorrow morning. You can join us around nine.”

“Am I?” But Aelin looked at him puzzled.

“Yes, unless you have other plans.”

“Uhhm I was planning on going kitchen household shopping but I assume I can do grampa stuff another day.”

Aelin patted his head “good, grampa. Come and have some fun.”

Lorcan nodded “9 am sounds perfect. I must admit I am looking forward to this.”

“And coming from Lorcan this is the best compliment ever.” Joked Rowan.

“This is going to be much more fun than you guys running drills with us.” Explained Aedion who for once did not seem to have any problems with the airforce. 

The group finished their meal and Aelin was the only one who actually went for dessert and everyone took the mickey out of her.

“Of course she gets the cake.” Elide rolled her eyes “how is it that you are not the size of a zeppelin I do not know.”

“Uh, I love you too.” Added Aelin while munching her cake away.

After the meal the group said their goodbyes Aelin and Rowan walked home, taking a detour through the park, hand in hand.

“I had a lovely evening.” Said Rowan pulling their twinned hand to his mouth and depositing a gentle kiss.

“I can’t believe Lorcan. He is so different.”

“I will be forever grateful to Elide. He is like another man.” He explained “I have known Lorcan for a very long time and I have never seen him so happy.”

Aelin almost skipped happily “are you looking forward to tomorrow?”

“Very much. I really want to see you in action.” He gently pinched her butt and Aelin squealed “you and your sexy jacket.”

“It’s called turnout or bunker gear.” She said to him leaning forward for a kiss “not as hot as your jumpsuit…” She swayed her hips in front of him.

He took a couple of steps and folded his arms around her waist and turned her around “you look hot even covered in grime.”

Aelin chuckled “you never saw me coming out of a house collapse after slithering through the debris and come out with my clothes white, my hair grey ad my face verging on black.”

His hand caressed her sides “Imagine the long shower…” his lips brushing hers gently.

“We are in a park, captain.” Her arms sneaked around his neck.

“I am just reminiscing our first kiss.” And slowly pinned her to a tree.

Aelin leaned forward and kissed him first “I’d throw my shoes at you but they are trainers and would hurt. It’s a shame I don’t have my flats on.”

“My menace…” he whispered, their mouths sharing a breath. “I should take you home. You have work tomorrow.” And pulled back from her, grabbing then her hand and resuming walking.

“You fuss too much.”

Rowan rolled his eyes and smiled “let’s just say it’s in the job description for boyfriend.”

“What else does it entail?”

He took a long pause staring toward the pond “make you happy, mostly.”

Aelin stopped him and turned him to her “you do. Make me happy, I mean.” Rowan stooped and kissed her hard “home, now. It’s getting near your bed time.”

“Sexy bed time?”

“No, young lady, we are going home and tuck you in bed and no shenanigans allowed.”

“You are no fun,” she complained walking away from him pretending to be mad.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her back “You came off shift this morning and I got home this morning. We both need rest.”

Her smile turned wicked “I might go and find myself a younger model. I wonder if Fenrys is interested in a sexy firefighter.”

A second later Aelin found herself pinned again against a tree and his lips on hers, the kiss demanding and almost possessive.

When Rowan pulled back they were both breathless, his forehead leaned on hers “don’t even joke about it.”

“Jealous much?”

“You are my girl.” He whispered against her lips and the tone he used made her heart melt.

“Said that again.”

“You,” his lips travelled along her neck “are,” a gentle nip of his teeth “my girl.” And a searing kiss.

How was it possible that the man in front of her could stir such deep passion and desire in her? Something so strong she had never felt before with anyone. It felt like an all consuming fire. She just hoped it would stay like that forever. She felt his hand sneak under her hoodie and touch skin and groaned into the kiss “let’s go home, captain. We are in a park and both about to lose it.”

He nodded silently and started walking home as quick as they could.

As soon as they were through the door to the house, Rowan lifted her in his arms, kicked the door shut with his foot and walked to the bedroom.

“I thought you said no shenanigans.”

“Fuck it.” He let her slid down and a second later his hand had started peeling off her clothes and she did the same.

“Show me what you got.” A second later she was airborne in his arm and then in bed. His strong body hovering over her. His pine green eyes trained on her and she could see the desire in them.

When he kissed her again her toes curled and heat began pooling at her core.

“I love you,” she whispered against his lips. It was all he needed and a moment later his name was on her lips begging him for more over and over again.

TAGS:

@rowaelinismyotp @swankii-art-teacher @courtofjurdan

@whimsicallyreading @tillyrubes10 @surielandiareendgame

@aelin-bitch-queen @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity @acreativelydifferentlove

@mis-lil-red @thegreyj​ 

[starcrossedkaiju]

Kingslayer AU: Chapter Eight

I don’t know what to say other than I like this one. Rendog enjoyers come get your free angst!

Scott filled the pages of his sketchbook gradually at first. He sat at his window and drew what he saw, focusing on putting shapes on the paper. Many times he was unhappy with the finished product, almost ripping out and throwing away his limited space.

He had to learn to be okay with it. The next time it would be a bit better, and a bit better, until the tree he’d been slaving over didn’t look half bad.

Soon his interests turned to drawing his friends. Their faces would pop up on his pages, drowned in eraser smudges at first. Then it became easy. Like second nature, he could memorize Grian’s knowing grin, Jimmy’s downturned eyes, Martyn’s slightly crooked nose.

He drew the way he saw Ren’s piercing yellow eyes that night, the way they were shadowed by his brow.

It felt better. To have a place where his memories could stay exactly the way he saw them. Scott even pinned some up on the wall of his room.

Soon his supply of paper started dwindling, Martyn told him if he needed more drawing paper to come back and ask him for some. So he did, after Jimmy went to bed and the world was quiet under the snow.

Scott made a trip to the Renchanting base, entering through the tunnel hidden under the mountain. It took him right to the storage area. Which was dark and deserted. Only a clock ticked on the wall, everyone else must have been in the sleeping quarters or back at their bases to fend off the Phantoms.

He took a torch from the “stuff chest” and started making rounds, looking at each storage container. Food, Armor, ores, wood, stone, and redstone. Until there was a wall of chests with people’s names on them.

Everyone in the Red Army had a chest, from left to right there was Ren, Martyn, Etho, Skiz, Impulse, Tango, Joel, and then Scott.

The last chest on the right side, Scott’s name was carved on top. It hadn’t been there before. He placed his hand on the lock, wondering if he should even bother opening it. Someone had cared enough to dedicate a space for him to put things. Under the roof of Dogwarts no less.

His torch flickered and Scott decided he’d spent too long lurking around, so he flipped the lock up and quietly opened the chest. Slowly so it wouldn’t creek.

Inside there was a single stack of drawing paper. Hand-sewn like the one Martyn had given him.

Scott placed the torch down and retrieved the paper. He knew it must have been Martyn. A smile found its way onto his face, and he let it stay there. This time, when nobody was looking.

Blowing out the torch and closing the chest, Scott gathered the sketchbook and decided to just leave through the front. It was almost midnight anyways.

Up the stairs and to the double doors of the enchanting room. The book on the table rose from its position and opened towards him as he walked past. Scott still had his hand on the doorknob when he opened it and stepped out into the frigid night.

Of course he didn’t expect to see anything, so when he did see something he froze in place.

In the spot that Martyn would typically occupy, on the very top of the walls sat Ren. His grey cape was bundled around himself to keep out the cold and his pointed ears were pressed low on his head. He was facing away from Scott.

Huddled on the perch, Ren’s shoulders were shaking. Silently, he cried.

Scott stood in the doorway motionless. He couldn’t believe the scene in front of him. Ren wasn’t one to cry. He was calculating and smart, rarely loosing his temper to even the worst of setbacks. A humorous man in charge of an Army of vagabonds, he never cried. He never expressed so much as a single weakness, he couldn’t afford that.

So it really shouldn’t have been a surprise, not really, that the Red King would save his sorrow for when nobody should be looking. Under the loneliest arm of the Milky Way, coldly gazing down on him. The weight of every star in the sky on his shoulders.

It made him look small.

Scott backed away from the door and ran back to the tunnel he came from, the kind of running you do when you are convinced your worst nightmare is snapping at your heels; and maybe for Scott it was.

He sprinted home without looking back. Trying to shove the image of Ren out the back of his mind.

That night he crept quietly back into bed, doing his best not to disturb Jimmy. Who stirred momentarily before simply turning over.

Scott stared at the arm of the Milky Way through the window until he fell into a dreamless sleep.

Days pressed by, Scott slithered too and from the walls of Dogwarts under the noses of his allies and between Spy Ring meetings. The first page of his new sketchbook lay empty, because whenever his pencil hovered above that damn page all he could see was a man huddled up under a galaxy of stars that would never return his wishes.

So when he was called out on night watch to the Renchanting base, Scott snuck out with his empty sketchbook held close to his chest. He arrived to a sleeping base, aware that his shift would be over in an hour and he would get to go home when the next guard showed up.

He yawned and stared out the window, at the stars above the wall. A pencil came to his hand and he started drawing what he saw. The shape of the wall against the glowing sky. He drew it, but it wasn’t right. The image in his mind came back to the front.

A weeping man holding a million stars on his shaking shoulders, the end of his frayed cape flaring out when the breeze kicked up. Tiny compared to the infinite sky. Scott’s fingers and palm turned black with graphite as he crafted the cosmos onto that paper.

His scribbling and smudging consumed all his thoughts as he focused on making the scene perfect, the pencil dulled and threatened to snap under the pressure.

“Major,” a stern voice came from right behind him.

Scott seized up in his chair, a feeling of terror so pure exploded in his chest that his vision left him for a few seconds. He gasped and turned around with his jaw on the floor.

Behind him was Ren. Clad in his winter jacket, a hand on the back of Scott’s chair. He stared directly into the other’s eyes from behind the dark lenses of his aviators. All the color had gone from his face.

Hoping the Red King hadn’t seen what he was drawing, Scott moved his hand to close the book.

It was too late. Ren had been watching him draw for long enough to know.

“You saw me?” Ren asked, but it was phrased more like a fact. It was.

Scott’s hesitation was enough of an answer. He stared up into Ren’s glasses, reminded of a familiar time. This time was different though, and this time Scott wished he could see behind the lenses.

He nodded and tore his eyes away, it felt intrusive to be staring.

“Ren,” Scott said to the floor, but was dismissed.

“No. Just go home. Now,” the other man ordered with a wavering voice.

Scott didn’t nod, he didn’t look at Ren. He gathered the sketchbook and slammed it shut within five seconds.

He didn’t say goodbye as he fled the walls. Scott ran from Ren, and this time he felt bad about it.

Scott didn’t return to Dogwarts for a week after that. Nobody called him to the night shift, nobody asked him to run any supplies. Maybe he was grateful for that, in the sense that he wouldn’t have to look Ren in the eyes again.

Until one night he couldn’t sleep. The clouds cast a dark blanket over the sky. Scott huffed and crawled out of bed, not bothering to change out of his pajamas. He pulled his boots on and took his coat off the hanger.

A walk is what he told himself he was going on, but really he knew where he was going. He didn’t know why, but for some reason Scott had a feeling he wasn’t the only one that couldn’t sleep.

This time instead of entering Dogwarts through the underground he rounded the front, cresting the hill right in front of Big B’s house. Scott scanned the top of the wall and saw what he was looking for. He shoved his hands in his pockets and entered Dogwarts through the front door.

Scott climbed the ladder and balanced himself as he walked over to Ren, who was sitting with his legs dangling over the side of the wall. His jacket was pulled tightly around him. Scott didn’t greet him when he sat down, Ren had seen him coming a mile away.

Ren didn’t look at him, he breathed in heavily, then sighed out a burst of vapor into the cold air.

“You couldn’t sleep?” Scott started the conversation this time.

“Wouldn’t matter if I could. I’m on night watch,” Ren said after a beat of silence.

Scott nodded, turning his head to the dark sky, “it’d be nicer with some stars, hm?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Ren trailed off. He stared at his shoes.

“Okay I’m sorry, I’ll just-“ Scott made to get up and leave but Ren interrupted him.

“No, wait, you can stay,” Ren pulled on the sleeve of Scott’s elbow.

Scott nodded and pulled his knees closer to his chest. A pocket of clouds had moved, creating a window that let the moon gaze upon the Earth.

“Do you stargaze a lot?” Ren asked, this time he looked at Scott.

He wasn’t wearing his sunglasses.

“I try,” Scott replied, “there’s this huge book I found uh, In a village library a while ago. It has everything you can possibly see from down here in it,” he mused.

“Have you ever read one?” Scott asked.

“Uh, an astronomy book?” Ren’s eyes flicked to the left in thought, “I mean I’ve seen them. I haven’t read them. You like astronomy?” he asked.

Scott nodded, then pointed north, into the cloud cover, “you can’t see it now, but Ursa Major would be right over there,” he said.

Ren looked over like he was trying to imagine it, “you like Ursa Major?”

“Easiest to remember,” Scott said plainly.

“I’ll bet. S’ like a namesake,” Ren rested his chin on his palm, “I wish I had a constellation with my name,” his ear twitched on his head.

Scott’s metaphorical ears perked up, “Oh well, there’s one kind of like that,” he said. Ren’s actual ears perked up.

“It’s called Canis Major. It means Great Dog, or Big Dog,” Scott pointed south, “it will always be easy to see on a clear day. One of its stars is called Sirius,” he explained.

Ren nodded, “I’m familiar. Brightest in the sky, right?”

“Yeah. That’s right,” Scott replied.

“Canis Major huh?” Ren repeated. Scott nodded.

“Canis Major, and,” he looked over at Scott, “Scott Major,” Ren nudged the other on the shoulder.

“Right,” Scott said, and suddenly the sky didn’t feel so heavy anymore.

Not when you have a friend to share it with.

[lonelyreputation]

'tis the damn season (college au)

A/N: Hello!! I’m back with some holiday angst 💥 It’s been a busy holiday season for me, but we made it!! I hope you all have had a lovely December so far!! I’d love to hear your thoughts!!! Thanks a million million for all your support!! ✨🎄⌛️🍫☕️

Prompt: You’re back in Canada for the Holidays after leaving for California three and a half years ago. And while you’re home, you run into your ex-boyfriend––Shawn––and things get…Complicated. 

(heavily inspired by ‘tis the damn season by Taylor Swift)

MASTERLIST | LET’S CHAT 🥂

Warnings: Swearing, Drinking, Allusion to Sex (no smut directly written) // WC: 12.6K // Angst & Fluff 

A gust of wind hit your face like a hundred needles pricking your cheeks. The frigidness of the dry air caused you to shut your eyes tight and sniffle.

It was the first week of December, and the temperature was just a little below freezing as you walked around an outdoor market that was decorated for the Holidays. Bright string lights were wound around the trees; with even more lights zig-zagging from the tops of them, that mimicked stars in the night sky. 

The Christmas music that played above the shops through speakers sounded more like a quiet hum beneath people chattering and hurrying off to the next shop. And there was the occasional cry of a child when their parents told them they couldn’t get the specific toy they wanted.

Even if a person didn’t celebrate Christmas, it definitely would put them in a festive mood.

“A little cold?” Your friend–Tara–bumped your shoulder with a chuckle.

You glared at her, shoving one of your mitten clad hands further into your jacket pocket. Unfortunately your other hand was preoccupied by holding onto a bag full of Holiday presents.

“It’s too cold.”

You could see Tara’s breath when she tipped her head back and laughed, “That’s what happens when you leave for California and have only been back three times since you left.”

At her comment, you shrugged your shoulders. She wasn’t wrong, and her tone was more lighthearted than malicious, but you still felt a pang of guilt. You left the quiet town of Pickering for the booming city of Los Angeles for university. And in the three and a half years you’ve been at university, you’ve only been back home three times.

Whenever you did come back home, it was kept to a week––or shorter––and you solely only saw your family and Tara. But your mother convinced you that it would be nice to have you home for a majority of the holiday break. So that’s how you found yourself back in Canada, when you could’ve been basking in the warmth of the sun in California.

“Any other plans for when you’re home?” Tara asked as she steered the two of you over to look at the front windows of a shop.

You rolled your eyes, “Just sitting on the couch.”

“There’s no one else you want to see?”

The undertone of her quick response was not lost on you. You glared at her, “You know I only see you and my family whenever I come back.”

“But you’re never back,” Tara tore her attention away from gazing at the shoes that were way too expensive for either of you to buy. Her eyes were slightly larger than normal and her lips tugged slightly into a frown, “I bet there are some people who would want to reconnect.”

You let out a bitter laugh and shook your head, “Not with how I left things.”

“Y/n––”

“If I wanted to know who you were hanging out with while I was gone,” You said with a bit of edge to your tone, because you knew while she mentioned how there were multiple people who wanted to reconnect…You knew she was specifically talking about one person, “I would’ve asked.”

Tara was silent as she confidently held your stare. It was as if she was trying to convince you that he would want to reconnect.

But there was a reason you kept your visits to Canada so short.

You knew Tara still talked to him––You knew she was still friends with him. How could she not? He was intertwined with your high school friend group. And you weren’t mad at her for still keeping contact with him, you didn’t have a right to tell her who she could and couldn’t be friends with…But you were fairly certain he never wanted to speak to you again.

You were the first to break eye contact and look down at the ground before looking over her shoulder to see a small stand for hot chocolate, “I’m getting a hot chocolate, do you want anything?”

Tara shook her head with a small smile, “I’m all good. Think I’m going to take a peak in this store.”

Without another word, you nodded and swiftly walked past her and toward the stand. There was another gust of wind that blew into your face. It was a kind of cold that fogs up windshield glass, when you passed a group of people who looked to be around your age.

You wiggled your nose from the cold air and didn’t pay any mind to them.

The line was longer than you thought, but you would wait in the cold if it meant avoiding Tara’s innuendos of meeting up with a certain someone. You bounced your leg to keep your blood circulating, but when you heard a little kid yell about someone cutting in line, you stopped and leaned your upper body to the side.

Everyone always got a little temperamental when they were freezing, especially little kids. But the parent hushed the child and everyone in line went back to minding their own business.

You dug around your pocket for some cash when you noticed you were a few people away from the front of the line. When it was your turn, you held out a few dollars for the cheap hot chocolate. But the cashier, whose elf hat jingled when they shook their head no, just handed you the white styrofoam cup.

“Someone covered your drink.”

You knitted your eyebrows together, “What?”

He kept his unamused facial expression as he nodded somewhere behind your shoulder, “He cut in line and said he had to pay for your drink.”  

Taking the steaming cup from him, you felt your hands defrost from under your mittens as you nodded slowly, “Thanks…”

The cashier barely lifted their lips up in a smile at your response and was soon helping the couple behind you.

You took a single sip of the hot chocolate, letting out a content sigh as it warmed up your insides, when you turned around to thank the person who paid for your drink.

But when you turned around on your heel and saw the person who paid for your drink already staring at you…Your face fell. The hot chocolate you held in your hands no longer provided warmth. And you wanted to run all the way back to California.

It felt as if the cold air had frozen your feet to the pavement.

Last minute shoppers hastily walked around you, sometimes with their bags of presents clashing against your side, but they didn’t offer you an apology like you didn’t offer one for standing in their way. You assumed your face was just as blank as his.

The last time you saw him was a few days before you left for Los Angeles about three and a half years ago.

As if it was any more possible, he was taller and seemed more muscular. And while his hair was tucked under a beanie, you could tell that it had grown a little longer. No matter what season it was, his cheeks still held their rosy color, and even though he looked at you with a hint of indifference…His brown eyes were still as comforting as ever.

Noticing that you weren’t going to move, you saw his breath through the cold air as he let out a deep sigh. And with his own white styrofoam cup of steaming hot chocolate, he walked toward you.

Your heart gradually fell further and further in your chest with each step he took. And when he was standing in front of you, it felt as if you couldn’t breathe.

Both of you stood still, and while he kept his stare on your eyes, you couldn't help but wildly look around the little Christmas village. The hum of Christmas music and families chattering as they walked to their destination was drowned out by the ringing in your ears until he spoke.

“Long time no see.”

His tone of voice was as emotionless as his face.

“Hi––Hey.” You breathed out and held up the styrofoam cup, “Um…Thanks for the hot chocolate.”

He nodded and took a sip of his own drink, “No problem.”

This was not how you expected seeing Shawn again for the first time since the two of you broke up. In fact, you never really planned on seeing him again since that disaster. Just standing in front of him in absolute silence was only causing your chest to tighten with anxiety.

“I––Uh,” you didn’t know what to say. He was looking at you like he expected you to say something profound; or some sort of apology. You avoided his stare as you took a sip of your hot chocolate and coughed into the crook of your elbow, “I can pay you back.”

Shawn didn’t miss a beat, “That’d defeat the whole purpose.”

“Purpose of what?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“To talk to you.”

His responses were instantaneous; it felt as if he planned out this whole conversation in his head prior to buying your hot chocolate.

You let out a shaky breath, “Well…We’re talking.” Shawn closed his eyes in irritation and this was exactly why you didn’t plan on seeing him when you were back home. “Do you have venmo? We could call it even––”

“Are you busy tonight?”

Your eyes shot wide open at his question. Busy tonight? Of course you weren’t; your only plans were to watch cringe worthy Christmas movies on Netflix curled up on the couch. Maybe have a bit of eggnog and wishing you were back in California.

Shawn Mendes was nowhere in your holiday plans, and even though spending one-on-one time with him terrified you…You felt yourself rearranging all of your plans to fit him in exactly like you had done when you were seventeen.

You gulped, “What…What do you have in mind?”

A slight smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and you immediately felt yourself smile as well, “Just to talk.” You nodded your head until he offered up more information. He sniffled his nose, “I have my own place in Toronto now––”

“So why are you in Pickering?”

Whether he was bothered that you cut him off or not, he didn’t show it. He just took a sip of his hot chocolate as another cold breeze came through. He brought his index finger and thumb up to run the corners of his eyes before answering, “Christmas shopping with my friends.”

My friends.

The offhanded way he said it made it seem as if he didn’t consider you a friend anymore.

You peaked behind his shoulder and saw that the group of people you passed on your way to get hot chocolate was in fact a small group of people you went to high school went. You caught the eye of Brian, one of Shawn’s best friends that wormed his way into your life when you started dating, and offered him a small smile. He didn’t return it.

You nodded your head, understanding that Brian definitely still held ill feelings toward you. Instead of focusing on the negative, you brought your attention back to Shawn, who was surprising you with how…nice he was being.

“I don’t have any plans.”

As if he expected you to blow him off, his eyes widened in shock the same moment his mouth dropped. You let out a small laugh, thinking how you probably looked the same way when he asked if you had any plans.

Shawn cleared his throat, “Nice––I––Like I said, I have my own place in Toronto now.” He shifted his gaze toward the black pavement and let out a nervous breath before he asked his next question, “Do you still have the same number?”

Your voice cracked, “Yeah.”

Slowly, he picked his eyes from off the ground. He looked relieved that you hadn’t changed your number, but you felt hurt deep within your chest thinking that he didn’t have much faith in you. The 905 area code you’ve had since you got your first cell phone was one of the few things that still tied you to your tiny Canadian town.

“I’ll text you my address,” Shawn offered you a tight lipped smile before you both heard his name being called out by a girl. He briefly looked over his shoulder and then turned back to you, smiling, “Tonight.”

You quickly nodded, and didn’t stop nodding until he was slowly backing away from you, “Tonight.” You confirmed the plans back to him.

And this time when he smiled, he showed all his teeth, and it was a smile you recognized. One that traveled all the way up to his squinted eyes that made the corners crinkle. It was the smile you fell in love with at fifteen.

He took a sip of his hot chocolate before he turned his back to you and you saw how he was greeted back into his group of friends. He walked right up next to the girl who called out his name and threw his head back in laughter at something the group said.

You could name almost everyone in that circle; and there was an ache in your chest when you saw Tara make her way out from the laughing friend group and bounce up to you. Of course her life didn’t stop on your account, but you felt a bit crestfallen thinking how that could be you; laughing and smiling with high school friends––pressed up to Shawn’s side––if you didn’t flee away at the first chance you got.

Tara’s cheeks were bright red, but not the type of red from the cold air, they were red from smiling too hard with people she loved. She tried to keep her small laughs at bay, “Ready to continue shopping?”

You blamed the stinging behind your eyes on the cold air that continued to whip through the streets, “Let’s go.”

///

It was nearly ten at night when you parked your mom’s car in the parking garage of Shawn’s apartment complex. The sound of your door closing shut echoed through the nearly empty guest parking spots. With shaking hands, you pulled your phone out to tell Shawn that you arrived at his place. He immediately responded saying he would meet you at the front door.

You shoved your phone into your jacket pocket as you crossed your arms over your chest, hunching your shoulders ever so slightly, hoping it would preserve some body heat. With chattering teeth, you made your way outside the garage and waited outside the front door.

Standing still wasn’t doing you any good in keeping warm, so you decided to walk in a small circle.

And with pacing came overthinking.

What did Shawn want to talk about that couldn’t be said when you saw him at the Holiday shops? You didn’t think that there was anything left to say with how you ended things. When he texted you his address for tonight, it was the first message exchanged between the two of you since the last text he sent you in 2016. And that text made it quite clear about how he felt about you.

Please never speak to me again.

“Y/n?”

You whipped your head up and saw Shawn dressed in gray sweatpants and a soft pink sweatshirt. A sweatshirt you stole from his closet countless times when you were a couple. And while he looked absolutely adorable with his hair tousled, as if he’d just woken up from a nap, the heat from inside the building was the main factor that lured you inside.

“Thank God,” You brushed past him and immediately began to regain feeling in your toes.

Shawn let out a laugh, “Cold?”

You sniffled, “Uh––Yeah. Very cold.”

He shook his head with a small smile, “Well, lucky for you, I have the heat on in my place.”

And you took that as your que to follow him to the elevator. The short walk from the front door to the elevator was silent as Shawn pressed the up button. He rocked back and forth on his heel, something you knew he did when he was nervous.

But why would he be nervous? He obviously knew what he wanted to talk about. You on the other hand…How does a person go from never wanting to speak to someone again to inviting them to their apartment?

The soft ding of the elevator made you jump.

Shawn let out a single chuckle and let you onto the elevator first. You crossed your arms over your chest as Shawn pressed his floor number.

The ride up was also spent in silence.

It wasn’t until the doors slowly opened onto Shawn’s floor that panic began to infiltrate every corner of your mind.

“Do you have roommates?” Your voice came out more high pitched than you intended.

The last thing you needed to deal with was Brian––or some other old high school friend––coldly stare you down as you walked through the door.

Shawn shook his head as he took his keys from out of his pocket and twirled them around his index finger, “I have a studio.”

“Oh,” you squeaked out.

As if he could sense how nervous you were at his answer, he slightly turned his head to look at you; eyebrows raised and a smirk placed on his lips.

The rest of the walk was in silence until Shawn stopped in front of a dark teal door that looked identical to the rest on the floor. The first time he tried to unlock the door, he accidentally put his mailbox key in the lock. He nervously chuckled as he fiddled with his key ring for the correct key. And once he found it with shaky hands, the door clicked and he walked through first.

The walls were an offwhite color, and his furniture was either all navy or black, making the single room more cozy than it probably was intended to be. His bed was pressed up on the far back wall in a corner next to a window. From what you could make out, you saw a few scattered pictures tacked up on the wall next to his bed. Most of them looked like they were from college; but you saw a few high school graduation pictures, prom pictures, and comical spirit day photos.

Even though you and Shawn were connected at the hip during those prominent high school memories…You didn’t see yourself in any of the pictures.

“It’s nothing special,” he shrugged and walked over to his little kitchen area, “Do you want water?”

His question brought you out of the pity party you were throwing for yourself in your head, “That’d be great.”

Shawn opened up one of his cabinets and reached for two glasses. Slowly, you walked up to the little counter and sat on one of the barstools he had. He slid a glass of water over the counter and you smiled in appreciation.

You tapped your fingers around the cold glass, “So…How’ve you––How’s your family?”

You cut yourself short from asking your first question…Unfortunatley, you had a pretty good idea of how he’s been the past few years. So instead, you stayed in neutral territory.

“They’re good,” Shawn took a sip of his water as he leaned his back on the fridge, “How’s your family?”

Like him, you kept your answer short, “They’re fine.”

The pleasantries were weird. You don’t know if you preferred his silence or the awkward short phrases the two of you exchanged. You used to be so entwined with his family, and he with yours, that just hearing that they were “good” made it seem like they were an off limits topic.

Silence.

You took a sip of water.

The water felt extra cold against your dry throat. You set your glass on the counter and folded your hands together, “Still studying architecture?”

At your attempt of trying to continue the small talk, Shawn pushed himself off the fridge and sat on the barstool next to you. Even though you’d spent three and a half years apart, you spent four years together, and he still knew you better than you’d care to admit.

And that meant he knew the exact way to teeter the line of making you slightly uncomfortable, but not enough to send you running away.

Small talk was something you disliked. Silence was something you hated. Feeling unprepared in a situation was something you loathed. And you despised being so close to someone without knowing what to say.

He knew all of that.

Not liking how out of control you felt in the situation you scooted the chair back, “I think I should go––”

You were only able to get off the chair and stand straight up before Shawn’s hand shot out and took hold of your wrist, keeping you in front of him.

His touch burned; it felt hotter than any summer day you spent in L.A., but the familiarity that came with his calloused fingers––from spending hours on end practicing guitar––felt like home.

You stood frozen with his hand keeping you from still. With closed eyes, you took a deep breath in, “Shawn…”  then slowly let it out, “Why did ask me to come over.”

He stayed silent, but the way he slowly let go of your wrist, and trailed his fingertips over the top of your hand right down to your fingertips before he glided his fingertips up to your elbow…It caused all sorts of bells and sirens to go off in your head.

After a few more beats of silence, where Shawn just trailed his fingers up to your elbow and back down to your wrist, he slipped his hand into yours and laced your fingers together. You closed your eyes as he tugged you forward so you were now standing in between his legs.

“This isn’t smart,” you whispered, eyes still shut.

He squeezed your hand once, but you kept your eyes shut and held your breath.

Only when you were drunk off champagne in L.A., droning on and on about your problems––most of them circling back to Shawn––did you let yourself imagine what it would be like to hold his hand again. To be in this position again. One that you found yourself in plenty of times in high school.

“Y/n…” His voice softly carried your name through the silent studio apartment.

He squeezed your hand again.

You knew that once you opened your eyes that you would give in to anything he wanted. There was only a miniscule part of the rational side of your mind holding out. But when he bumped his knee against the side of your thigh, that last part of you that was holding out was consumed by the ever growing desire of wanting the person in front of you.

You snapped your eyes open and were immediately drawn into the sincerity he held in his eyes, “I miss you.”

I miss you too, you wanted to say. But you kept that admittance to yourself.

You gulped, “This––We shouldn’t––” you briefly looked down at your intertwined hands, a sight you didn’t think you’d ever see again, before looking back into his wistful eyes that caused your stomach to twist in knots, “This is a bad idea––”

He tugged you even closer to him where you were almost pressed up against his chest. You placed a hand on his chest, feeling the soft fabric of the sweatshirt. You hoped your hand would add some kind of distance, but at your touch, he closed his eyes and let out a sigh as if he’d been waiting years for this moment.

And maybe he had.

“Babe––”

“Just for the weekend,” you fell into his plea, but cut him off in a strained voice.

There was a time in the past where you thought you would be in this same exact position with Shawn; standing between his legs, holding hands, in an apartment somewhere in Toronto…He squeezed your hand again and you felt a sharp pain in the center of your chest.

This was almost like a scene drawn perfectly out of your imagination, but there was one piece missing.

You lifted your palm from off his chest and twiddled with the strings of his hoodie. You tried your best to ignore the ache in your chest. And you tried your absolute hardest to not concentrate on that missing piece. You bit the inside of your cheek, and blinked away the burn behind your eyes.

The missing piece––that would make this scenario exactly like a scene drawn perfectly out of your imagination––would be if you two were still in love.

But love wasn’t what this situation was about.

“Tis the damn season,” Shawn murmured, and In one swift motion, he used his free hand to cup one of your cheeks before crashing his lips onto yours.

The heat you felt when he had only touched you didn’t hold a fame to how it felt to kiss him again. It felt as if no time had passed, his lips molding right on to yours. His fingers curled around the back of your neck, his thumb slowly caressing your cheek. Keeping his lips connected to yours, he stood up from the stool.

Slightly hunched over, Shawn deepened the kiss as he slowly walked you backward until you felt your back softly come in contact with the wall. With his one hand still holding onto the back of your neck to keep you close, his other hand slowly crept under your sweater.

You shivered under his touch and you felt him smirk against your lips.

“Where’ve you been staying?” Shawn mumbled into your neck as he nipped at the skin there.

You let out a few deep breaths through your nose, you were finding it a bit impossible to think clearly seeing as your train of thought was only focused on Shawn,  “I––” you were cut off by his lips reattaching themselves onto yours.

“I’m staying at––at my parents’ house,” you were able to get out through his rushed kisses.

Shawn hummed as he ground his hips into yours, causing you to whimper in his mouth as you threaded your fingers through his curly hair.

He repeated his movements a few more times as his hand that was cupping your cheek made its way down to your hips. And he let the hand that was under your sweater, trail painstakingly slow down your stomach, until he had both hands holding onto your hips.

He slowed down his kisses, until they were just a few pecks, before he stopped all together and leaned his forehead against yours. You didn’t have to open your eyes to know that his eyes were still closed as well.

He brushed his nose against yours, “And where did you tell them you were going tonight?” You felt his breath fan over your voice.

You breathed in, “Tara’s.”

He pressed a single kiss to your lips, one that was reminiscent of your first kiss underneath the bleachers when you were fourteen, “Does she know you’re here?”

And when you breathed out, you felt your chest touch Shawn’s, “No.”

Shawn hummed in acknowledgement, but you couldn’t tell if he was relieved or sad that you kept your late night rendezvous with him a secret. But before you could ask him if anyone knew you were coming over, you felt one of his hands slide into yours once again and pull you over toward his bed.

For the rest of the night…Every touch, every kiss, every soft spoken word with eyes closed––because with your eyes closed, at least you could pretend that you two were in love––brought you to a higher sensation that you chased all over L.A. to find.

And while Shawn was fast asleep, you laid awake with your head on his bare chest, rising and falling with every one of his even breaths. As you were tangled up in Shawn’s sheets naked, with one of his arms thrown around your shoulder, you realized that the feeling you craved would always lead you back to Shawn and your hometown.

///

Promising Shawn that you would only be together for the weekend was a bold face lie that you should’ve seen coming. That first weekend spent at Shawn’s place led to another weekend. Then the weekends bled into the weekday. And you found yourself sneaking out of your parents house more to meet up with Shawn now than you ever did in high school.

Christmas had come and gone and Shawn was busy around the clock with his family on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. He did send you a few texts throughout the day to let you know he was thinking of you, but it wasn’t the same as actually hearing him whisper the same words to you right before you drifted off to sleep next to him.

It was Boxing Day, and with Boxing Day came a tradition for graduates at your high school that you never participated in. You thought it was a bit foolish, high school graduates meeting up in the woods behind the school–that they swore they hated for four years–as they drank and reminisced about the four best years of their lives.

You never participated since you were usually back in California by this time, booking the first flight out of Canada after Christmas. Or it was like your first year at University…Not even bothering to come back to Canada.

You texted Shawn that you parked your car between the Methodist church and the school that used to be yours. As a response, he sent back the emoji with one eye closed with its tongue out. He was the one that convinced you to come out tonight…After he promised that not everyone was still bitter about how you dropped them after you moved to L.A.

Taking the lock and chain off from around the gate, that was never securely locked around the Holiday season, it was easy to sneak in. And you wondered if this was the school’s secret way of encouraging their graduates to come together.

Trudging through the frozen grass, you were still freezing even though you had multiple layers on to keep your body temperature up.

You felt like you were wandering forever, and if it wasn’t for Instagram pictures you’ve seen in past years, you would’ve thought that Shawn was pulling a prank on you. But the further you walked into the woods, you started hearing a few shouts of friends greeting each other with Happy Holidays. And when you got closer, you saw string lights zigzagged from tree to tree.

There were people you recognized and others you didn’t recognize either gathered around keg stands, sitting on tree stumps, or in a small circle of fold up chairs that they provided themselves.

You felt a bit lost, and you took out your phone to text Shawn, but Tara bounced up to you with a red solo cup in each hand.

“I kneeew you’d come,” she drew out the lone vowel in ‘knew’ as you took one of the red solo cups from her and rested a steady hand on her shoulder, “No one belieeeved me that you’d show.”

Tara wasn’t drunk, but you knew that when her speech pattern wavered that she was a little more than tipsy.

“I told you I would be here,” you took a sip of the beer in the cup, “So, here I am.”

Tara raised an eyebrow at you, “But you’re late.”

“I never promised a specific time,” you narrowed your eyes at her as you brought the red cup up for another drink.

If this conversation was going where you thought it was, you would need more than just a few sips to get through it.

“Stop playing dumb,” Tara rolled her eyes, but her voice was soft.  

You hadn’t told her that most of your break had been preoccupied by Shawn. He was one of the major reasons why you hated returning home, so it was a bit ironic that you now looked around for him with anticipation clawing up your stomach.

You continued to play dumb, “I don’t––”

Tara let out a huff, “I know––We all know––That you and Shawn have been attached at the hip.”

The background noise of old high school friends laughing was the exact opposite of how you felt with your best friend. You hadn’t told anyone that you were spending time with Shawn. And you were pretty positive he hadn’t told anyone either.

“That’s not true.”

Were you attached at the hip with Shawn since you returned to Canada? No, that wasn’t true. But did you spend a considerable amount of time together? Possibly.

“He’s been more…Smiley, the past few weeks,” Tara gave you a pointed look, “And so have you.”

While you felt not much disdain for your hometown anymore, and felt a bit lighter on your feet…You knew that part of that feeling was thanks to Shawn. And while you never thought of returning back to Pickering when you were done university, you slowly started to come to a realization that coming home wouldn’t be that terrible.

You took a sip of beer to cover up your smile, “Good for him that he seems happy––”

“Don’t you remember how things ended between you two?”

With her comment, you took a few more longer sips of your drink.  Once you felt confident that you wouldn’t lash out at her, you brought the empty cup down to your side and clutched the plastic cup down at your side.

“I think I remember quite well,” you grumbled with a clenched jaw.

You glared over her shoulder at a happy looking couple

There were a few beats of awkward silence before Tara let out a soft sigh. She looked at you with her big adoring eyes that were supposed to be comforting, but you saw a hint of protectiveness in her eyes. A protectiveness that wasn’t for you.

“I’m just looking out for you––”

“No,” you tore your longing gaze away from the smiling couple as you looked at your best friend with hurt in your eyes, “You’re looking for Shawn.”

The silence was enough of an answer for you.

You nodded your head once and swallowed down the lump in your throat, not even your own best friend had your back, “I think I’m going to leave.”

You were about to spin on your heel when Tara’s voice stopped you in your tracks, “I’m looking out for both of you.” You let out another breath, not wanting to get in an argument with her, but she spoke up once more, “Like it or not, you were the one who left.”

You wiped away a tear from your cheek that managed to escape your eye, “I know I left,” you whispered, “But you also knew how torn up I was after we broke up.” You felt your throat tighten up more as you spotted your old friend group over Tara’s shoulder that you lost contact with after you left, “They don’t know that. They only know how he was.”

Tara reached out for your hand, but you took a step back, “Y/n, it’s not like that––”

“It’s cool you’re friends with Shawn and still friends with everyone else,” you gnawed on your bottom lip, as an unfamiliar feeling creeped up your stomach when you looked behind Tara’s shoulder once more at your old friends; guilt.

You thought you were going to say something else, but the longer you stood in front of your best friend, the more guilt you felt rise up like bile in the pit of your stomach. So without another word, you turned around and started to walk away from the smell of bad perfume lingering in the air.

The grass crunched loudly under your shoes, but not loud enough to block out a certain voice that would visit you in your most blissful daydreams, but also haunt your darkest nightmares.

“Long time no see.”

Letting out a deep breath, you put on a brave face as you spun around to see Shawn.

You playfully rolled your eyes at him as he walked to you, only stopping when the tips of his shoes touched yours, “It’s been three hours.”

Shawn rolled his eyes back at you as he took one of his hands out of his pockets and slid his fingers easily between yours. It was too perfect the way your hands fit together. Too perfect how he still knew your body like anyone else. And too perfect how he seemingly just forgot about how you left.

While you were heartbroken over your break up with Shawn, you couldn’t say that Tara was wrong when she said that you were the one who decided to leave.

Shawn’s curls tickled your forehead as he ducked his head and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, “I’ll always miss you.”

You didn’t miss the subtle undertone of devastation in his voice.

You looked away from him as you tried to swallow down the pain you felt. From the start of whatever this arrangement was with Shawn, you knew that it wouldn’t end well. It was a recipe for total destruction, and It’s why you only wanted it to last a weekend.

But with the few weeks you’d spent with him, you were starting to see how you could possibly make this work past the weekend. It would be tricky with you heading back to L.A. at the end of the month, but you thought it would be worth it to try something new.

“Shawn…”

Just like how you noticed the devastation in his voice, he picked up on the slight ache behind your voice. He knew that tone of voice all too well because it was eerily similar to the tone you used on him before you told him you were leaving.

And even though you did eventually have to leave, you weren’t trying to say that you were leaving him.

He closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh that broke your heart, “Stop running.”

You shook your head, “I’m not––”

“You are,” his voice was heavy, and when he opened his eyes you felt your shoulders fall at how his brown eyes were full of fear, “You can run, but only so far. And it’s been so long,” he squeezed your hand and didn’t ease up on the pressure, “Aren’t you tired?”

You tilted your head back and let out an aggravated breath through your nose, but you still held tightly onto his hand.

“I’m not––We’re both in this situation,” you blinked away the stinging behind your eyes and slightly skewed the conversation, “I think we should––”

With a tilt of his head, he pinched his eyebrows together, “Are you––” his voice cracked, “–-Are you really making me watch you leave again?”

With a frown, you shook your head, “That’s not what I’m saying. This situation isn’t the best, but if we change––”

“Because I remember that damn well,” he flared his nostrils as his breaths came out uneven, ignoring the idea you were trying to propose. You were caught off guard by his sharp comment, and didn’t have a rebuttal, but he seemed to take your silence as an answer. And when you felt him drop your hand, that’s when the panic really started to flood your body.

Shawn let out a bitter laugh as he looked down at the frozen grass, shaking his head as if trying to rid you out from all of his memories. But when he looked back up at you, his lips were pulled into a tight frown and you could see his bloodshot eyes from the haze of the dim Christmas lights.

You took a step forward, reaching your hand out to feel him one more time, but he took a step back, “Do you not remember telling me––and everyone else––how you were going to McGill?”

He waited for a response, but you didn’t have one, so he kept on with his scathing questions, “Do you not remember us making weekend plans to see each other? We were going to make it work between Montreal and Toronto. ”

You felt your chin wobble because you knew exactly where he was going with this. And all of his anger and heartbreak toward you was justified.

“Shawn––”

“Do you not remember,” his harsh voice dropped down into a gut-wrenching whisper, “Telling me two days before the semester was starting that you were leaving for L.A.?”

The feeling of holding back your tears became too much. A few leaked out from your eyes as you hiccupped, “You don’t have to–”

“Do you not remember,” He spoke over you, “how much planning you put into moving out there?” Shawn let out a shaky breath as he harshly wiped a few tears off his cheek with the heel of his palm, “Because if I remember correctly, your mom said you were planning that for months.”

More silence on your end.

“If leaving––” He brought the sleeve of his arm to wipe under his nose, “If it’s okay with you, it’s okay with me. We could call it even.”

You swallowed thickly as a gust of cold air blew in between you two, “Call what even?”

“I watched you leave,” Shawn itched the bridge of his nose, not looking directly into your eyes, “You can watch me leave.”

You were beginning to feel the oncoming of a headache; which wasn’t surprising considering how hard you were clenching your teeth and how you were trying your best to hold back your sobs.

While you didn’t think whatever mess you got yourself in with Shawn over the break was healthy, you did think that there was a way to sort it out to make it better. With only one semester left, you had to go back to L.A. to finish your degree, it was the only thing that made sense. But you were starting to think that maybe you could try long distance with him. And you were hoping that maybe––up until this point––that he would also want to try it out.

But maybe wasn’t enough.

You let your shoulders drop, because as much as you didn’t want to let go, he seemed pretty set on making you feel the same exact blindsided pain you caused him years ago.

You let out a pathetic laugh as you curled one arm around your waist, “Tis the damn season, right?” You barely got the sentence out before you brought your other hand up to your mouth to muffle your cries.

His eyes were wide with pain, much like the day you left him on his back porch after you told him you were attending a different University than planned. He fiddled with his hands, almost like he wanted to reach out and hold you one last time, but he shook his head––as if he decided you weren’t worth anymore words––and walked away.

You watched him walk in the direction you had just left from until he disappeared beyond the trees. Once he was gone, and you were certain he wasn’t going to turn around, you let your shoulders drop and buried your face in both of your hands.

Your breaths came out shaky as your shoulders shook with your cries. Shawn was gone. He left you exactly how you left him; standing alone, crying, wanting more of an explanation–-wanting to still make things work––and not being able to do anything while watching the one person you ever loved walk away.

At least when you left, you looked back at him one last time. You vividly remember how his face crumpled and then how he brought a hand up to cover his face as he openly sobbed. You could still feel how your chest tore open at the sound of his wailing that day.

But he didn’t look back at you when he left.

You stood alone in the woods, unable to catch your breath between your hyperventilation and cries, as you felt scratches on the back of your throat from harshly breathing in the cold air. You cried for a little longer, rocking back and forth as you clutched your stomach, until you felt ready to leave your high school.

You shivered from the cold, but at this point, you would welcome any other feeling than the devastating heartbreak you felt in your chest as you walked out of the woods. With one last look at the highschool that brought you to the absolute best person you’ve ever found in your life, you headed down a road you hadn’t taken in months.

Taking the road you used to walk from your parents house to high school looked real good…It looked fine until all you saw on the street were memories that danced their way around in the haziness of the night. Time flies and the memories blended together through your blurry vision.

You approached the stop sign, which had an infamous ditch, that caused almost every car to get stuck in if they didn’t take the right turn wide enough. You let out a small laugh as your mind drew up a version of a fifteen year old Shawn and yourself in his white truck. He was so proud to finally have a vehicle of his own––even if it was his grandfather’s old truck––to take you out on dates.

And one day when Shawn was driving you home from school, he was too caught up in recounting a story about how he and Brian nearly got caught ditching third period, that he got stuck in the ditch. How you got out of the ditch wasn’t clear––but you remember Shawn standing behind his truck, pushing it, as you were in the front seat pressing on the gas pedal.

And when the two of you were able to get his truck out of the ditch, his back tires spurted up an insane amount of mud. It caused his freshly washed white truck and white shirt to look just as messy as the mud on his truck tires.

Your laughs soon turned into more tears as you crossed the seat and leaned your forehead on the metal post of the stop sign. You didn’t regret going to California, you knew you wanted to get out of Pickering, but being home for an extended amount of time showed you how you wished you’d gone about leaving a different way.

Going back to your old high school showed you how much you missed your old life. You missed the nights when you stayed up all night with your friends, waiting to watch the sunrise, and then going to a diner for breakfast. You missed the times you would lie on Shawn’s floor doing homework, while he studied at his desk. You missed the way your friends would tease you and Shawn when they saw you holding hands.

But most of all, you missed seeing Shawn’s smile.

Bright headlights from your peripheral vision caused you to pick your head up from the rusty metal post. You sniffled and decided that it would be best to continue walking so the car wouldn’t see your mini breakdown.

You continued to walk straight, but the car didn’t speed up and go around you like you expected. Instead, you heard the sound of a window rolling down as the person who you were just thinking about called out your name.

You should’ve given Shawn your full attention, but you don’t think you could watch him leave again. So you shook your head and continued to walk forward.

“Y/n,” Shawn called out your name again, “Get in the truck. It’s cold out, it’s late, you’re upset, and Tara said you had a drink.”

You shook your head no as you crossed your arms over your chest, sniffled away the last of your tears, and continued walking.

But what did cause you to stop walking was the sound of the engine shutting off and the slam of a door.

And like when you first saw him at the little Christmas village all those weeks ago, the two of you stood face-to-face in silence. It seemed as if his tongue was tied and he didn’t know what to say. And you didn’t know what you wanted him to say. He made his intentions with you clear at the edge of the woods.

“I’ve only had one drink,” you looked away from his eyes that were full of remorse, and it only made the ache in you feel worse, “I’m fine walking home.”

You brushed past his shoulders, but he shot his hand out and clasped his hand around yours. You held your breath as he spoke, “Hear me out––”

“I heard you in the woods,” you choked out.

He squeezed your hand tight and the action caused you to rapidly blink away the tears you were so certain were gone. He was all you wanted, the past weeks showed you that, but the back and forth––the crushing of both of your feelings––wasn’t something that was healthy or sustainable for a relationship.

You dropped his hand for a second, but his hand reached right back up to yours, holding onto it in panic, “We––We could just ride around,” he let out a low somber chuckle, “Just like the old days.”

Even though your back was still facing him, you bit your bottom lip and squeezed your eyes shut. Just like the old days. You didn’t think words that sounded so innocent could be so painful.

“I can’t,” you whispered.

At your denial, Shawn held your hand tighter, and you felt him take a step closer to you, “I just-–I want to spend time with you.” You heard him let out a shaky breath, “I didn’t––What I said back there––I know you’re going to leave again. I thought it would make me feel better to say those things––But it didn’t. And I––” his voice cracked, “I’ve missed you so much.”

You tried your hardest to resist the urge of leaning into the warmth of his chest. But when you heard the crack in his voice, you didn’t care about all the alarms going off in your head about how this was a bad idea.

You turned around to face him and saw stress lines on his forehead as his eyes looked red. He had his lips firmly clamped together, as if he was also trying to hold back in his tears.

With a deep breath, you tried to smile, “Shawn––”

He shook his head. He didn’t know what you were going to say, but with past experience of you starting a sentence off with his name, it was like he didn’t want to take any risks.

“I––No one is at my parents’ house. We could––We could just go there, watch a movie––Or do absolutely nothing,” he took a deep breath and leaned his head against yours, “I just need to spend more time with you before you go.”

You gulped, “Okay.”

The relieved sigh Shawn let out fanned over your face as a small smile lit up his face. If this was any other moment you previously shared with him, you would expect him to press a light kiss to your lips, but he just nodded against your forehead.

With your hand still in his, he guided you to his truck––the same one he got stuck in the ditch with––and you were proud of yourself for not crying at the sight of it. The way he opened the door, and placed a hand on the small of your back––to make sure you didn’t fall backwards as you stepped up into the truck––was reminiscent of all the times he picked you up on dates.

When you were buckled into your seat, you turned your head to look out the window to wipe away a few tears with the heel of your palm.

Shawn started his truck back up and the whole way back to his parents’ house was spent in silence.

He turned in his driveway, and put his car in park as the two of you sat in silence. His hands were still placed on the steering wheel and your hands were curled in fists, no doubt your fingernails leaving crescent moon shapes on the inside of your palms. You knew that the two of you were thinking the same thing…The last time you were both at his parents’ house.

The last time you were both at his parents’ house was when you told him you were leaving––Leaving for L.A. and leaving him.

He switched off the ignition and turned to face you, “Are you…Do you want to come in?”

“Yeah, sure,” you said as you swallowed down the lump in your throat.

Shawn nodded too, and the two of you unbuckled your seatbelts, as you opened the door. You carefully took a step down, but ultimately stumbled out of the passenger seat.

Once you regained balance, you saw Shawn standing a few feet in front of you with an amused smirk, “Even after years…You still have trouble getting out of it.”

Even though his tone was lighthearted, you saw the painful look in his eyes as memories of you struggling to get out of his truck flashed before his eyes.

You rolled your eyes as you shut the door, “It’s steep.”

Shawn let out a boisterous laugh as he led you through the front door and an overwhelming sensation washed over you. Seeing Shawn’s apartment was odd, but it was his own space that you hadn’t seen before.

But his home…You spent countless Sunday night dinners in the dining room with his family, helped his mom throw a surprise seventeenth birthday party for Shawn in the kitchen, fell asleep on Shawn’s shoulder in the living room during a movie, and snuck into his basement countless times on a school night. 

You knew this place.

“We can uh––” Shawn brought a hand up to the back of his neck, “Go to the basement? We got it redone last year so it’s nice––And um––Do you want a sweatshirt? A blanket? Something other than your jacket?”

Even though Shawn was in his house it seemed as if he didn’t know how to act either.

You smiled, “A sweatshirt would be nice.”

He nodded, “Cool. I’ll go grab it and you can––You can wait in the basement if you want.” Before you could respond, he turned around and ran up the steps to his room to fetch you a sweatshirt.

Instead of wallowing in your memories right by the staircase, you headed for the basement. Your feet had a memory of their own as they carried you straight back through the hallway, past the kitchen, and made a left. You walked a further bit down that hallway until you were met with the white door that led to the basement.

With a deep breath, you twisted the handle and walked down the stairs.

The basement was redone, but not overly done. There was a fresh set of paint, new hardwood floor, and new furniture scattered about. You weren’t alone for very long before you heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

Shawn had changed out his jeans for sweatpants and a hoodie, “Here you go,” he handed you a sweatshirt of his.

You took it from him and inspected it as you slipped off your winter jacket. It was his varsity hockey sweatshirt from junior year of high school. The gray sweatshirt had your high school’s logo printed big on the front, the top of the sleeve had a bold C for captain, and the back had MENDES 16.

It was one of his sweatshirts that exclusively lived in your closet since you wore it to his games so often.

You gulped as you slipped it over your head. Once the sweatshirt was on, you saw Shawn sitting on the futon with his eyebrows pulled together. He was either thinking about all the times you wore it previously or he was regretting offering it to you.

You stuffed your hands in the front pockets of the sweatshirt and stood there until Shawn patted the spot next to him, “Come here.”

Shuffling your feet, you made your way across the hardwood floor and slipped your shoes off before joining Shawn on the futon. You crossed your right leg over your left thigh and started to nervously pick at the loose skin by your thumb.

You didn’t know what he was going to do…Was he going to turn on the T.V.? Did he want to talk? You thought that the two of you talked more than you needed to in the past few hours.

Shawn’s eyes glanced down at your nervous hands and in one swift motion, he shifted his sitting position so that he was facing you, and took both of your hands in his.

He was staring intently at you, and you wanted to do anything to lessen the tension. His hands felt warm around yours as you looked at the wall that the futon was pressed up against. You let out a small laugh when you saw the tiny holes that the new paint wasn’t able to hide.

“Not able to get rid of the holes from darts?”

Shawn was confused for a moment, until he followed your gaze to see the tiny holes for himself, and let out a chuckle, “My parents painted the basement last year and they just noticed the holes…” He shook his head, “I tried telling them that it was Brian and Aaron, but they were still mad at me.”

You smiled softly at the memory, “They were wasted that night.”

Shawn mirrored your smile, “Yeah it was six years ago, but they were still mad.”

You squinted an eye and offered him an apologetic smile, “Sorry, I encouraged them that night.”

Shawn shook his head, telling you not to worry about it, “We were all having a good time.”

Silence.

You let out a deep breath and broke eye contact with him again. You felt nervous as ever under his gaze and felt hot as you wore his sweatshirt.

“How’re you liking California?”

You snapped your head over to him, eyes bulging out of your head, because him bringing up the place you left him for was definitely not something you would’ve thought he’d bring up.

“I um––It’s warmer,” you weakly smiled and Shawn’s chest softly shook with laughter. He looked at you, raising his eyebrows, wanting you to expand on your explanation, “It’s nice.” You let out a sigh and looked into your lap.

Shawn squeezed your hands which caused you to look up at him, “Even though we…We didn’t leave off on the best of terms,” he licked his lips in nervousness, “I still care about you. And I’m curious to know.”

You nodded your head in understanding. Saying that you didn’t leave things off on the best of terms was an understatement––It was Shawn trying not to hurt your feelings––But you knew exactly how you left things. And it was absolutely terrible.

You let out a sigh as a genuine smile lit up your face as you remembered landing in LAX for the first time, “It was really really nice,” you peaked a look up at Shawn to see that he also had a genuine smile on his face. “At the time, it was exactly what I needed. I just…I don’t know what it was about Canada but I just needed something new and––” you felt yourself get choked up because here you are, sitting in front of the boy who promised you the world for years, saying how much you wanted to leave.

Shawn squeezed your hands in reassurance, “It’s––I get it.”

You let one of his hands drop as you brought it up to wipe away the tears, “Sorry I––I don’t want to cry, sorry.”

“Really, it’s alright,” Shawn squeezed your hands once more, “When things got…” he tilted his head side to side, trying to find a word, “better, Tara would tell me about how happy you were out there.” He smiled sadly, “I was happy that you were happy.”

You wiped away more tears and let out a pathetic laugh, “I really don’t deserve you.”

“Hey,” Shawn leaned forward to wipe away some of your tears. And when you opened your eyes, you saw how close he was to you, the tip of his nose a centimeter away from yours, “Everything’s…We’re good now.”

You shakily took a deep breath and nodded your head, “I––I’ve been thinking and I––I don’t want to stay in L.A.”

Shawn’s eyes brightened up at your confession, “You’re not staying there?”

You shook your head and whispered, “I miss home.”

You miss Shawn.

Shawn’s eyes flickered down to your lips and then gazed back up into your eyes. You offered him the gentlest of smiles, shoulders dropping in relaxation, and that was all the go ahead Shawn needed to lean forward.

When your lips pressed together, you instantly closed your eyes and felt Shawn let out a content sigh out through his nose. It was a short kiss, and when Shawn pulled away slightly, you didn't miss the twinkle in his eyes.

“You’re coming back to Canada?” He whispered in a daze, voice full of hope.

You nodded, biting your bottom lip to keep your growing smile at bay, “After I finish this semester, yeah,” you let your eyes linger on his lips for a second longer than normal, before lowering your voice in all seriousness, “I’m coming home to Canada.”

Without any hesitation behind the actions, Shawn crashed his lips back onto yours that had you toppling back a little. You let out a small laugh against his lips as you regained your sitting position and wound your arms around his neck.

His once hurried kisses morphed into slow sensual kisses as he took his time savoring every kiss. His kisses were just as slow as the movement of his hands on your thighs; slowly rubbing your knees, then trailing his palms up your thighs, until he slid them back down to your knees. Everything about his touches, and your kisses, were slow and unhurried.

Eventually, his hands trailed further up your thighs until they didn’t come back down to your knees like usual. Instead, his hands rested on your hips, with one hand traveling to the button of your jeans. You felt your breath hitch in your throat when his fingers popped open the button of your jeans.

Without breaking the kiss, he slowly pulled down the zipper of your jeans and helped you shimmy out of them. Once you kicked your jeans off from around your ankles, you tugged at the bottom of Shawn’s sweatshirt, letting him know that you want it off.

He hummed against your lips in acknowledgement, but didn’t remove his clothing right away, “I want to kiss you a little more.”

You fought to suppress your smile, the corners of your lips still tugged upward, making Shawn’s deep kisses a little hard to continue. With a sigh, and one last peck to your lips, Shawn pulled back and tugged his sweatshirt over his head.

You tilted your head, “No shirt?”

Shawn shrugged as he lowered his gaze back down to your lips, “Most of them here are too small. My sweatshirts still fit through.”

And while everything before was gentle touches and hushes kisses, the earnestness of the situation was coming to light. He looked at you with the same sincerity and understanding that you held in your eyes. He offered you a small smile before he latched his lips to the skin just below your ear.

“If it’s okay with you,” Shawn spoke as he took his time on your neck, depositing slow, wet kisses, some of which would definitely leave lingering marks, “It’s okay with me.”

You tilted your head to give Shawn better access as one of your hands absently played with the curls on the back of his neck, “I––Yes,” you let out a content sigh as Shawn nipped at a spot on the base of your neck.

His lips made a sound as they detached from the skin on your neck so he could look down at you. You held onto his bicep and nodded your head slowly, “We need to talk more in the morning, but for now…” You squeezed his bicep, “I want this.”

“Agreed.”

And with that, Shawn leaned forward, as he pressed his lower abdomen into your front, and cupped the nape of your neck to kiss you deeply.

///

You didn’t know what time it was when you eventually stirred awake, but you awoke with a soft smile on your face. You wore Shawn’s hockey sweatshirt, had his arm curled around your waist, and were pressed firmly against his back as you felt his hot breath on the back of your neck. Waking up in this position was better than anything you ever dreamed about.

After a few minutes of being up alone, you felt the arm around your waist tighten, “Morning,” Shawn’s voice was groggy as he pressed a kiss to the back of your neck.

You closed your eyes and hummed as you felt him pepper a few more kisses along your neck, “Hi.”

Shawn chuckled at your morning greeting before propping himself up on his arm. He squinted his eyes at the wall with the television on it and let out a soft laugh. He looked down at you with an adoring smile as he brought one hand up to stroke your cheek, “It’s two in the afternoon.”

Your eyes winded as you felt wide awake, “What?!”

You went to sit up straight in alarm, but Shawn had other plans. He moved the arm that was propping him up, falling beside you, as he dropped his entire weight on you. You let out a muffled groan into his shoulder as you felt his chest rumble with laughter.

“We can afford to sleep in half the day,” Shawn pressed a kiss to your shoulder, “Just for old times’ sake.”

You let out a deep sigh, but brought one of your arms out from under Shawn––and the blanket that was draped over him––to curl around his shoulders. You let your fingertips softly graze his back in a figure eight pattern and he let out a deep sigh.

“That feels nice.”

You only offered a hum in agreement because even though Shawn felt like a dead weight on top of you, it felt nice. The whole situation felt nice. Everything from the events of last night, to waking up in his arms felt nice.

It felt almost as good as being in love in high school.

But like every time you felt yourself getting swept away in past memories that were better than anything you felt in the present moment, reality came crashing in like a tsunami.

Because the reality was that you had to go back to L.A., go back to all of your friends––or so-called friends; you heard whispers from one of your closest friends that a girl named Janey just wanted to be your friend because of a connection you had to a production company. It was something you heard before, but it wasn’t something you ever spent a considerable amount of time wondering about.

Out in L.A., you mostly wondered about the only soul who could tell which smiles you were faking.

Shawn was the gentlest and kindest person you’d ever met. His heart was bigger than anyone else’s; and he always made sure to make people happy even when he wasn’t feeling at the top of his game.

He showed people that he cared for them by remembering their coffee order.

He showed people he cherished them by putting their birthdays in his calendar so he wouldn’t forget to wish them a happy birthday.  

But most of all, he showed people he loved them by not allowing them to walk home alone in the cold when they were upset.

And now, with that soul on top of you––literally––you knew that the heart you were breaking was your own. How deserving were you of a second chance? How deserving were you to be let into his life again? You were selfish––greedy to have him back in your life––so you would cling onto that second chance, but there was still some left over guilt.

You let out a sigh, “Shawn––”

“Shawn?”

A voice that wasn’t yours––But one that you recognized as the voice of his mother––called out his name. Your fingertips stopped grazing his back and it felt as if you forgot how to breathe. Shawn mirrored your alarm about the situation as he shot up.

“Shawn? Are you here?”

“Oh my god it’s your mom,” you whisper yelled at him.

Shawn’s mouth hung open in panic, not knowing what to say, but then the basement door opened up and his mom called down, “Shawn?”

“I––Uh––Yeah, mom! I’m down here!” His voice was strained as he yelled up to her.

You were still under Shawn, and you prayed to anyone up in Heaven that she would stay up there. You didn’t know how well it would go over if she walked down the stairs and saw you.

You stayed frozen under Shawn as you heard his mom call out again, “We’re going over to the Martin's house in a half hour!”

Shawn swallowed thickly as he nodded rapidly, “Yeah––I––I didn’t forget! I’ll be ready!”

After his mom got his answer from him, she shut the door and neither of you two breathed until you heard her retreating footsteps. Once you were both positive his mom wouldn’t make a re-appearance, Shawn let out a laugh and you smacked his chest.

“That was not funny,” you glared at him, “I nearly had a heart attack.”

Shawn rolled his eyes, “I haven’t felt that kind of thrill since the last time we almost got caught when you snuck over.”

“We don’t talk about that.”

Shawn let out another laugh as he leaned down to press a lingering kiss to your cheek, “You don’t like to talk about it.”

You shoved his chest until he moved off you. With a small laugh, he rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow, with a regretful smile on his face, “I do have to shower and get ready though.”

You let out a frown, not wanting to leave the warmest bed you’ve ever known in the last three and a half years. Blindly, you reached out for his free hand and slid your fingers between his, “Are you free tonight?”

“Tonight?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at you, “Can’t get enough of me, eh?”

You rolled your eyes with a small smile before regaining your serious composure, “We need to talk.” Shawn closed his eyes momentarily, as if not wanting whatever trance he was under to be broken, but when he opened his eyes, you were smiling reassuringly at him, “I want to make this work. We just have to talk about how.”

Shawn released a relieved breath and smiled, “I want to make this work too.”

“We could call it even…” You smirked at him, as he raised his eyebrows in amusement and curiosity, “You could sneak into my house.”

Shawn let out a quiet laugh as he shook his head, “It’s so hard to sneak into your house,” Shawn dropped his head into the crook of your neck as he continued laughing, “Sneaking up to your room is impossible with that tree that’s in direct view of your parents window.”

“You’ve done it before,” you shrugged.

With one last laugh, Shawn pressed a single kiss to your neck before lifting his head up, “That I have.”

Once both of your laughs subsided, you stayed on the futon for a few moments longer just looking into his eyes and holding his hand. While you felt pure happiness explode in your chest at this phase of reconnecting, you hated the fact that you had to leave again.

Even if you were just leaving for a few months and then coming right back to Canada. You felt as if you spent too much time away already.

“Hey…” Shawn carefully pulled yourself out from your own head, “We’re good.”

You held his steady gaze before squeezing your eyes––and his hand––tight, “Even though I’m leaving––”

“I’ll be yours for the weekend,” Shawn cut you off. You gulped at his answer and slowly opened your eyes to see the seriousness he was trying to convey, “We’ll talk more tonight, but we can make this work, I––You have a spring break, right?” You nodded your head, “I can come out and visit. And we’ll figure––” he squeezed your hand, “it out.”

“We’ll figure it out,” you repeated his promise.

He smiled one last time before leaning his head down and pressing a gentle kiss on your lips.

“You have to––” You tried to get words out between kisses, but Shawn kept deepening the kiss to keep you quiet, “Get ready––”

“Shawn!”

His mother’s voice caused him to bolt up right. You had to cover your mouth with your hand to quiet your laughter. He glared down at you, “I’ll be up in a second!”

You shoved his shoulder so that way you weren’t trapped under him anymore. You stepped onto the ground and stretched your arms over your head as you saw Shawn smirk at you. Finding your jeans somewhere on the floor, you slipped them back on, “What?”

Shawn nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders, his smirk transforming into a wide smile, “Nothing. Just that I could get used to this again.”

Again.

Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think you would have an ‘again’ with Shawn. Butterflies erupted in your stomach as you returned his smile and buttoned up your jeans.

You made sure you had everything you came with before turning to see Shawn at the bottom of the stairs, now with a sweatshirt on. You walked up to him, placed a hand on his shoulder as you stood a bit on your tiptoes, and pressed a goodbye kiss to his lips.

Shawn smiled into the kiss, “Know your way out?”

You smacked his chest and he let out a small yelp, “I could sneak out of your basement with my eyes closed.”

Shawn smirked as he watched you walk toward the door that would lead to an outside staircase that would deposit you to his side yard, and from there, you would sneak behind the line of hedges in his mother’s garden.

Easy peasy.

You opened the door and had one foot out before you heard Shawn let out an over dramatic sigh, “Ah,” his eyes twinkled with a familiar mischievousness, “Feels like we’re back in high school.”

You looked out at the cement staircase with a fond smile, reminiscing on all the times you sneaked out of his place, before looking back at Shawn with a mischievous smile of your own, “Tis the damn season.”

Taglist (add / remove yourself): @adelaidestreets, @alilovesshawn, @fallinallincurls, @lights-on-mendes, @mendesficsxbombay, @particularnarry, @shawnmendez, @shawnsreputation, @turtoix, @badreputatiom, @5-seconds-of-mendes, @pupsandducks @musicalkeys, @madatmendes @im-salt-but-not-salty @sunkisseddreamer, @determined-overthinker @fortheloveoftheaussies, @illuminatepotter , @par_r, @perfectlywrongsm​ @lovelysunset1​ @samaratheweirdo​ @sarcasticallywitty15 

[svtkillua]

milk and tea > 5

rating: [pg-13 / angst] genre: soulmate au pairing: todoroki shouto x reader warnings: cursing, heartbreak, angst! word count: 6k

listen while you read here! join the discord!

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - chap 5 - 6 [final]

“This is too much for one person to handle.” Your voice sounded heavy, eyes glued out the window as a few buildings zoomed past your line of sight, the seatbelt across your chest digging uncomfortably into the crook of your neck. Your hand felt like it was burning, the line of gold seeming different now, making your heart thud and anxiety sour through your veins, your blood boiling with anger and confusion. None of it made sense and the longer you digested the information the more it seemed to make your nausea grow, stomach churning when your eyes stayed glued to your palm as you spoke softly into the confining space of Awase’s car. “I feel like I’m going to explode.” 

“I know.” Awase’s voice was deep, the kind of sound you could fall asleep too easily at night, laced with the same worry and confusion that was brewing violently in your heart. His hands were clutching the steering wheel when you glanced at him, the white hue from his knuckles giving away his emotions more than the absent look on his face was, his lips parted slightly as he sighed. “You’re positive mine’s the same as hers? As theirs?” 

Your head bobbed before you muttered a quiet yes, remembering the way his face had twisted when you explained everything to him, there in that café patio an hour ago, coffees long forgotten between you. You hadn’t stopped to think if you should figure things out first, didn’t question the words as they tumbled past your lips, speaking truths that were hard for either of you to understand just yet. Awase had been rightfully baffled, shocked and unsure of your confidence in their matches all marking, after all it had never been heard of. 

Part of you suspected he didn’t want to get his hopes up, that he didn’t even want to allow a daydream where maybe he did have a soulmate. If he was anything like you, he knew how disappointing things were when you came down from the high inside your head, when reality smacked you back into place with a reminder of how alone you were. 

“I’m sorry if I shouldn’t have told you.” Your voice lifted slightly at the end, like you were unsure yourself if your actions had been right, Awase’s eyes landing on you for a second at a stop sign, his lips pulling into a faint smile as he loosened his grip on the wheel enough to return his knuckles to their usual hue. 

“I’m glad you told me, it’s just a lot to take in.” He swallowed harshly, tongue poking out to wet his flushed lips as his head shook slightly from side to side. You shifted in your seat, eyes flickering once to his palm as his hand left the steering wheel to instead scratch at the back of his neck, something you figured was an anxious habit. “I thought I didn’t have a soulmate and now I apparently match two other people’s marks. I’m just confused as to what’s happening, and thrown off, I guess. I’ve never heard of this happening.”

“Neither have I.” Your gaze shifted back out the window as his GPS quietly rattled off which street he needed to go down, the ticking of his blinker sounding loud as you both fell into silence. You weren’t sure what to say to calm the screaming voices in your head, weren’t sure how to make yourself less confused when you had no idea where to start looking for answers. Awase hadn’t been sure either, which had led the both of you into his car, where you typed in Todoroki and Momo’s address into his phone. 

You kept picturing the look on Todoroki’s face when he’d interrupted the two of you barely an hour and a half ago, kept swallowing harshly when you remembered the way his voice shook with strain. He didn’t look angry at you for ignoring him, but hurt, like you’d ripped away the last piece of himself he felt like he had ahold of, like you’d left him all alone in the ocean with no life raft to help him stay afloat. You’d been trying to save yourself from the pain in your chest, but in the process had left Todoroki stranded all alone, where nothing could help him from crumbling apart. 

You knew the pressure he was under, knew from that night you had together that he’d never been quite this vulnerable before. He was lost and you were supposed to be his constant, his guide through things even when seeing each other was becoming painful. He’d wanted you to be there, wanted you to know he loved you even if he couldn’t do it publically, and you’d left him. In a way you were selfish, because your form of comfort was ignoring him, when his only form of comfort had been you. 

He didn’t have anyone to turn to with his problems, didn’t have a Midoriya to listen when he cried about the girl he loved, who most definitely wasn’t his soulmate. He didn’t have a family that would support him and love him regardless of his choices, didn’t have a group to back him up when he needed it. All he had had was you, and you’d all but abandoned him for a week, only for him to finally see you again when you were with another guy. 

You partially knew what it could have looked like to him, like you’d been avoiding him because you were trying to move on with someone else, like you’d given up on the love you felt because it could never blossom. You wondered if he thought that of you, if he imagined you seeking out other men as much as you pictured him falling into Momo’s arms when you felt at your lowest. 

“We’re here.” 

Your head lifted from it’s direction towards your lap, eyes dancing once from Awase to the building waiting just through his window, the huge cherry blossom tree outside too brightly colored for the way your mind was swimming. Every emotion imaginable felt like it was bubbling just beneath the surface, your hands shaking as Awase unlocked the doors and climbed out without an ounce of hesitation. You were envious of how outwardly calm he looked, even if he was probably as anxious as you were. 

The short walk across the street and up the front stairs felt like a thousand miles for the way your knees were trying to buckle, your fingers scrunching into your palms as Awase knocked on the painted red, wooden surface. His hands shoved into his jeans then, you noted, his blue flannel shirt blowing out behind his back as a breeze carried the smell of his cologne past your nose, his eyes flickering once over to yours as a quiet ‘just a moment’ came from inside. 

Your heart leapt to your throat when the door opened, Momo standing there with her hair pulled into a low ponytail, an apron half tied around her hips and a dot of flour dusted onto her cheek. Her eyes didn’t even glance to you when Awase sucked in a sharp breath of air, like for a moment she didn’t realize he wasn’t alone, her hands wiping delicately onto the front of her apron as a breeze blew a strand of her hair across the front of her neck. Awase fidgeted on the spot, clearing his throat and turning his head slightly to look at you, like he was asking you what to say. 

As if you had any clue yourself. 

“Momo.” Her head turned towards you quickly but her eyes dragged behind, lingering on Awase’s face until he glanced down at his shoes, hands shuffling, still in the confines of his pockets. Your teeth dug into your bottom lip when your gaze locked with hers, hating the way insecurities started to fester in the back of your mind, wash of guilt nearly knocking you over when you remembered the way Todoroki’s lips had felt on your lips. That guilt only grew when you felt the ring he’d left with you twisting on your twiddling finger, throat clearing once even though your volume didn’t grow. “Can we come inside, please?” 

It took her a moment to nod, her eyes blinking a few times as she pulled the door further open and stepped back enough to let you both past. You vaguely heard her introduce herself to Awase as you slipped your shoes off, catching the way he smiled when she stumbled over a stray pair of slippers left by the door. His name rolled off his tongue easily as she shook her head at her own clumsiness, a blush on her cheeks just barely visible from the dim light in the hall. 

The place looked the same as when you’d been in it, but also somehow different, now holding furniture and pictures and life. It was a home instead of a house now, the place Todoroki and Momo’s love was supposed to grow into its destiny, even if to yourself it felt like a prison, a manifestation of the things you lacked. The walls were painted a pale grey, the furniture the same navy blue as the lines on their palms, a set of stairs directly down the hall lined with photos from trips they’d taken, scattered with nicnacs and memories you didn’t care to know the stories of. 

You loathed how it made you want to vomit, the jealousy creeping through your bones, rattling any of the confidence you had left. 

“Where’s Todoroki?”

“He’s upstairs, we were about to make dinner.” Momo stepped past you after a moment, leading the pair of you towards the open concept kitchen, her voice unwavering but her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides as she stepped towards a ball of dough she’d left on the counter. “Why?” 

“We need to talk to the both of you.” Awase’s voice rang beside your ear as his palm landed on your lower back, as if he could tell how anxious being there was making you, let alone how confused and frustrated you still felt. Everything felt too big, too surreal to actually be happening, Awase’s free hand still shoved in his pocket like a bomb he was scared to set off. 

“About what?” Momo’s nose scrunched slightly as she glanced at the pair of you from where she was lazily forming small dumplings on the counter, tossing them one by one into a pot of boiling water. She licked her lips once as she let her eyes flicker towards your neck, reminding you of the necklace hanging there, the one Todoroki had given you, the one that made her suspicious enough to confront you before. 

You pretended not to notice the way it made her nostrils flare as she sucked in a delicate breathe. 

“It’s complicated.” You sighed, switching your weight from foot to foot, hand raising to rub at your shoulder aimlessly when you heard the stairs start to creek faintly. It immediately made your heart thud in your chest, body turning on instinct enough to see Todoroki as he came into view, his white socks clashing with the dark floor as he focused on the phone clasped between his fingers. 

His hair was wet, a towel draped around his neck as his lips parted, a breathe falling from them, not loud enough for you to hear but it felt like it had knocked the wind out of you. His skin looked incredible, your pulse quickening the closer he got, nerves firing all at once when his head finally lifted and he spotted the three of you. His gaze moved from Momo to Awase before it landed on you, his tired eyes blinking a few times as he abandoned his phone on the breakfast bar. 

“Todoroki.” You exhaled his name like his hands were squeezing your lungs, draining every drop of oxygen from your system. You swallowed, feeling a wash of calm for the moment his eyes lingered on your own, hating the feeling that grew in your chest when his eyes fell to Awase, who was still stood beside you with his hand on your lower back. For a moment his eyes flashed with an emotion you didn’t know, his bottom lip tucking beneath his front teeth. 

“What are you two doing here?” His voice was vaguely hoarse, the way it sounded when he’d been crying or yelling, and it made your bones ache. It made you want to run over an wrap your arms around him, the pull in your heart like a magnet more powerful than the moon to the shores. 

“They need to talk to us.” Momo cleared her throat after she spoke, trying to cover up the small waver in her voice. She tossed the last of the dumplings into the large pot of water before she turned around, hands wiping once again on her apron as her back leaned into the countertop. 

“About what?” Todoroki’s eyebrows rose as he pulled the towel from around his neck, figure turning away from you in a way that felt like a subtle pinch to your heart, a bit of guilt for ignoring him spreading up your spine. Maybe it had hurt him like you suspected, maybe it had felt like you were shoving him away when he so desperately had wanted to hold onto you. 

“About your soulmarks.” You pressed your lips into a thin line, Awase sucking in a sharp breathe beside you as his head bobbed in a nod, neither of you exactly sure how to bring the subject up subtly. His hand fell away from its place on your back, your teeth grinding together as you watched Momo’s brows furrowed together slightly in confusion, Todoroki’s back still towards you. 

It was silent enough for a pin drop to be heard, neither Momo or Todoroki saying anything, as if they were waiting for yourself or Awase to further explain, though neither of you knew how. You looked over at Awase as he shifted his weight, his eyes catching onto yours as you nodded once towards his hand, resting your own flat against the marble island in front of you. There was a rustle from his hand being pulled out if his jean pocket, before he was holding it up like he was waving without any movement, the bold blue lines vibrant with the overhead light beaming down on him. 

Momo audibly gasped, her hands raising subconsciously to cover her mouth as she stared, feet quickly padding across the wood floors so she could get a better look. The sound caught Todoroki’s attention as he finally turned, his thin white t-shirt collecting small dark circles from the drips of water coming from his hair, eyes flickering from your face to Awase’s hand twice before staying settled there on his palm. You swallowed hard, ignoring the boulder in your esophagus as your eyes danced between the three of them, wondering what they were all thinking, what they were all feeling. 

You’d never seen anyone with your mark before, let alone been in the same room as two people who matched you. 

“What’s going on?” Momo sounded out of breath as she hesitantly reached her hand forward to grab ahold of Awase’s as it lowered, his eyes glued to her face as she squinted down at his palm. You watched as she slid a finger over the main line of his mark, noting how she skipped over the small cut he still had healing across the center of the flesh. 

“We don’t know.” Awase’s voice was hushed, like if he spoke too loud he’d scare her away, his lips pursing, puckered momentarily outward as he took a peek at you in his peripheral vision. You didn’t notice Todoroki had moved until you felt the warmth of his body closer to your own, his footsteps quiet until he came to rest between you and Momo’s sides. “After you two left the café she saw my hand, and said she’d seen it before.” 

“I knew it was yours.” Your eyes shifted up to Todoroki, his own gaze focused on Awase’s palm as Momo held it, her own dark lines brushing against his fingertip before she placed her hands on the counter. You swallowed when Todoroki’s focus shifted over to you, eyes unreadable as his tongue poked out to wet his lips, and you swore for a second he was trying to tell you something with the look on his face, but you didn’t know what, voice shrinking with his proximity. “Both of yours, I mean.” 

You’d missed his warmth, missed the heat that radiated from him so naturally when you were next to him, your arm feeling like it was being baked by the sun when his body weight shifted so he was closer to you. His fingers subtly nudged your own where your hands both hung by your thighs, the island blocking them from view, your body temperature spiking when you looked away from his face to instead focus back on Awase and Momo. You tried to keep your reaction neutral as Todoroki’s pinky finger slowly hooked with yours, fingers one by one all clasping into your own until your palms were flush together, heart thumping steadily like he was an anchor keeping you from drifting too far from his shore. 

It was amazing how a simple touch from him was enough to have you near bursting at the seems, things seeming to blur in your mind for a moment as all you could focus on was how good it felt to be touching him. When your grip on him tightened he squeezed right back, your cheek burning where he was staring at you until Awase spoke up. 

“I don’t understand how this can be happening.” He scratched at the back of his neck for a moment, bodyweight leaning into the counter before him as his teeth dug into his plump bottom lip. “It’s impossible for three people to be soulmates, right?” 

“Right.” Todoroki’s head bobbed once slightly, his voice soft as he brushed his thumb along your own, chest rising and falling steadily as he glanced between Awase and Momo. Momo was staring at Awase for a beat, her eyebrows bunched together as she absentmindedly picked at the nail polish half chipped off her fingers. “None of this makes any sense.” 

There was a lull in the conversation as the three of them all glanced between each other like one of them would suddenly have an answer, your face turning back up to look at Todoroki while he thought, admiring the way his skin looked when the light caught onto it. He looked incredibly tired, stressed, like the shower he’d taken had done little to relax the voices screaming in his eardrums, like he was desperate to shut the world away for a while and just breathe on his own. You moved closer to him without thinking, feeling Momo glancing at you but swallowing down the small amount of guilt it caused, resting your freehand on the countertop. 

“Let me see your hands.” 

For a moment, you’d thought Momo was talking to you and Todoroki, your eyes flickering down to your connected palms before Awase held out his own. Todorokis grip on you vanished as he lifted his hand up, both of the boys palms facing the ceiling as Momo placed her own between them, your chest aching in a way that made it hard to ignore. Your eyes burned but you blinked away the stinging in them, leaning forward slightly as Momo had to look over the blue lines that stained their skin. 

“I read about something, a couple months ago.” Momo sounded half focused on what she was saying, her finger skimming along Awase’s hand before it moved to brush along Todoroki’s, a small pang of jealousy itching at the back of your throat. You ignored it best you could when she looked quickly over at you with a bob of her head. “It was right after Todoroki’s birthday, when he decided to stay at your place rather than go to dinner with me and his parents.” 

She paused for a moment as you folded your arms across your stomach, her voice not full of malice or anger but rather a hint of sadness, of a pain you didn’t think you could really grasp. Because while you were longing after Todoroki for months, she had been watching him crave someone else for the entirety of time she knew him. Even if he’d never said it to her, and even if he tried his hardest to never let it show, she knew that while he cared about her, it wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. 

Maybe Todoroki loved her, yes, but not in the way she wanted. 

Not in the way soulmates were supposed to love each other. 

“I was up one night, reading these articles online, in this poor state of mind, and I came across this article. These parents illegally had their child’s mark covered at some underground tattoo place, having it match another family’s child so they’d think they were soulmates. It was almost like some awful form of an arranged marriage. The kids only figured it out when they were older and one of them found a baby picture from before they covered his mark.” She trailed off, her eyes flickering between Todoroki’s palm and Awase’s, your mind reeling as the pieces in your mind seemed to slowly be clicking into place. 

“I didn’t think it could have happened, because neither of us had ever met someone else with our marks before.” Momo looked over at Todoroki as his focus turned towards her, her eyes a bit red as she blinked a few times and smiled faintly at him. She looked as tired as Todoroki did, like she’d been fighting a losing battle for a long time and was finally ready to give up. “I knew neither of us felt right, that neither of us thought things were how they were supposed to be. You’d felt something for someone else, and I…” 

Her voice trailed off as she took a glance at Awase, who was staring at her with such a strong gaze it made her cheeks flush with pink. 

“I saw you once,” She said to him, his teeth digging into his bottom lip as his head bobbed in a nod, like he remembered it too. Your eyebrows bunched together as another punch of confusion ghosted over your features. Todoroki’s hand left the counter to once again clasp down into your own, grip tighter than before. “at a train station. It was crowded and we bumped into each other, you had on gloves and I didn’t see your hands but I felt…something when I saw your face.”

“I felt it too.” Awase interjected, his eyes flickering down to the counter as his fingers bent to form a loose fist, his lids dropping shut as he sighed heavily. “I tried to look for you but when I did you were with a guy and too far gone. I figured it was just my imagination and I let it go.” 

“It’s why I asked our parents for baby pictures a few months ago, I was thinking maybe I could find some proof that we weren’t supposed to be together.” Momo said, forcing herself to look away from him and instead focusing back on Todoroki, who you were sure also noticed the way both Awase and Momo’s cheeks were flushed with pink hues of warmth. “I didn’t find anything in mine, though.” 

The silence that fell was heavy as Todoroki and Momo shared a look that felt too intimate for yourself and Awase to be watching, like you were witnessing a couple splitting apart, and perhaps you were. Maybe the both of them had felt it for a long time, that something was wrong with their supposedly destined relationship. Neither of them had brought it up, but both could tell that the other wasn’t happy, that they were forcing things when they shouldn’t have to. Momo shouldn’t have had to fight to have time with Todoroki when he was supposed to always want to be with her. Todoroki shouldn’t have felt so alone when Momo was right there, shouldn’t have never felt understood when she’d brush off his complaints like mere feathers on her shoulders. 

Neither of them was right for the other, but they both cared enough to keep quiet, because they thought it was what they were supposed to do. 

“Did you check mine too?” Todoroki spoke up, his head shaking slightly as a drip of water from his hair skimmed his cheekbone when it fell. 

“Every single one.” Momo sighed as she pushed her hand through her hair, slipping her elastic onto her wrist as the strands hung loosely behind her neck, framing her cheeks like she was a beautiful painting. “I found nothing. I’m not really sure where to look for answers. It could have been either of our families, hell it might not have even been them. This could all be something else.” 

“It’s not something else.” Todoroki’s voice grew harder, eyes floating shut as his jaw clenched down tight, all the air leaving his lungs as he shook his head. His grip on you grew more firm as his nostrils flared, your free hand raising to gingerly brush his shoulder when his eyes snapped back open. “It was my parents. I know it was, I’m positive.” 

“Todoroki.” Your tone was timid compared to his own, body moving closer to his when his face turned towards you, his eyes burning red and full of irritation, tears starting to build in his waterline. You’d never seen him look more furious, more heartbroken, his hand leaving yours as he scrubbed at his eyes and immediately turned to go outside, the door slamming behind him and a silence enveloping the three of you still standing around the marble island. 

You swallowed, staring at the door where his figure had just been, body aching to be following his, that pull in your chest stronger than ever knowing how upset he was. You couldn’t blame him for feeling so angry, for being so broken that he just wanted to fall apart where no one could see him. You knew pain, you knew the hurt that spread through your bones when you realized you didn’t have a soulmate. You were familiar with the hollow that made a home in you with the thoughts and voices constantly in your head, the never-ending reminders of your loneliness and heartache. 

But you didn’t know how Todoroki felt. 

His own parents had betrayed him, had set him up for a life where he’d never really get to be happy, not how he was supposed to. They lied to their son for their entire lives thus far, all so he’d marry someone he was never really supposed to love in the first place, and in the fallout from their actions they had crushed him. They had made Todoroki so full of guilt and longing that the weight of the world was piled up onto his shoulders. They made him loathe himself for not loving Momo the way he was supposed to, made him long after someone that maybe he could have had all along had they not sabotaged him out of selfishness. 

Your body carried you out the door before you over thought things, not bothering to put your shoes back on as your feet made contact with the cold concrete of the front steps. You paused there while the door shut, watching Todoroki’s back as it rose and fell slowly from where he was sat on the curb, a car passing by making some of the fallen flower petals bustle past his figure. His shirt looked brighter from the way the streetlamps were hitting him, the sky turned a dark blue as night began to take over. 

He was mute when you sank down into the spot beside him, your thighs pressed against each others as you rested your hands on your knees, staring up at the sky as he sniffled beside you. He didn’t move for a minute or so until he shifted enough to lift his head, eyes falling onto you when you turned enough to stare back at him. You were itching to touch him when you noticed the wet trail down his cheek, heart feeling like it was being hammered into bits and pieces as he leaned in and rested his forehead against your shoulder, his lips parted as he sucked in a shaky breath. 

“I’m sorry, Todoroki.” Your voice was a whisper as he slid his arms slowly around your middle, pulling your body closer to his own as his head fell to instead press into the crook of your neck, his nose nudging the side of your throat while his fingers dug into your back. Your cheek pressed into the top of his head as your fluttered your lids closed, letting him melt his body weight into you, savoring the warmth of his chest as the wind blew. “I’m so sorry.” 

“I just can’t believe they’d do this to me. I know that we don’t always agree on things, but how could they just let me be so fucking miserable and pretend that it was all in my head.” His voice shook as it muffled against your collarbone, the reverberations making subtle goosebumps raise on the back of your neck. “What kind of person does that to someone they’re supposed to love?” 

“Maybe it wasn’t them, Todoroki. We don’t know if that’s what really ha-” 

“It was them.” He cut you off with a slight shake from his head, his shoulders raising as he pulled back enough to stare at you. His hair was a mess, now half air dried and sticking at odd angles, lips puffy from how much he kept licking and biting at them, eyes still stained with redness. “I know it was them. They always wanted a certain life for me, and they decided that was most important. They decided money and power and image were more important than their son’s fucking happiness.” 

Your hand reached back behind you so you could grab onto his own, pulling it forward and clasping your palm so it was flush against his, hiding his blue lines from his view. He pressed his lips into a line as you lifted your other hand to brush the hairs away from his eyes. He leaned into your touch, eyes falling shut as his cheek pressed against the warmth of your fingers, like he was making sure you weren’t a daydream. It was hard for you to believe yourself that he was real, with the streetlamp casting a halo silhouette around his mess of white and red hair, eyes shining even in the dark, swimming with all the emotions that had started to pour from his soul. 

“You should talk to them, confront them about it.” 

“I will, but not tonight. I can’t tonight.” Todoroki blinked twice before letting his hand slip away from your own, reaching up to scrub at his exhausted eyes as you let your palm slip to rest against his chest, feeling his heartbeat as it hammered away. He leaned forward enough to press his lips to your forehead, muttering against the skin as your touch drifted from his cheek to instead plant on the crook of his neck. “I just need some time to process everything.” 

You nodded as he languidly untangled himself from you completely, hands grabbing onto your own as he helped you stand, immediately slipping his arms back around your middle to hug you to his chest as he took a deep breathe, the smell of his cologne like you were being welcomed home after too much time away. Your arms looped easily around his hips, pressing your bodies so they were cemented together as he pressed a chaste kiss to your shoulder, savoring in the feeling of having you so close for a moment. 

He felt like he was broken. 

But you were broken too. 

“It’s almost ironic. This is like some awful version of what I always wanted.” 

You leaned back to look at him when he spoke, his tongue poking out to wet his lips as his fingers started to toy with the ends of your hair, careful not to tug too hard. Your eyebrows rose slightly, as if you were asking him to go on, lips parted as you took a gentle breathe when the wind blew chills onto your bare legs. 

“I used to always hope that somehow I wouldn’t be her soulmate, that I’d have at least a shot at being with you, properly.” He mumbled, your heart thudding at the quiet confession as his lips spread into a half smile, one laced with heartache and framed with disappointment for the way the world had granted his wish. “I always pictured myself just waking up with your mark, not something like this. I guess I just never imagined it would be because of my parents being more selfish than loving.” 

“It might not have been them, Todoroki.” 

He shook his head at your optimism, his lips pressing once more into your forehead as he let his touch leave your body, except for his hand that tangled back into yours. He picked up your free one, kissing the middle of your palm and moving you slightly so your soulmark was in the light, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, like he was trying to force a lump down his esophagus, one that was making it hard for him to breathe. He was silent for a moment as he held you there and stared, taking in the gold as your fingers flexed slightly in an attempt to free your hand, not liking to look at it for so long. Even with things unraveling around you, you didn’t like to look your mark, like it was a reminder of all the torment soulmates had caused you, all the longing that left scars on your heart. 

“I wonder if mine looks like this, underneath the tattoo.” He muttered, mostly to himself, his eyes dancing over to you once before he was focusing back on your palm, finger tracing a line right down the strip of pigment on your skin. The image made your lungs shrink as you tried not to get your hopes up too high, the grip you had on his hand tightening when your eyes burned at the thoughts that started to rush to your head, dark ones that were used to broken hopes. 

“What if it doesn’t?” 

His eyes turned back towards you, lips parting, like he was surprised by your question. You couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop yourself from wondering what would happen now. Sure, in your heart you wanted it to be Todoroki, you wanted the person you matched to be him more than anything you’d ever longed for in your entire life. You wanted that tattoo on his palm to get removed and you wanted to find a strip of gold waiting there for you all along. But you had gotten used to the disappointment, familiar with the let downs when your dreams came crashing back to earth, leaving you broken and unable to really fit the pieces back together. 

“It doesn’t matter if it doesn’t.” 

He sounded firm, confident as he let your palm go and opted to cup your cheek instead, a car driving by that casted bright lights on him for a moment. He took a deep breath, leaning forward and letting his eyes drop shut as his lips ghosted over your own before he kissed you fully. It wasn’t full of dramatic passion, wasn’t laced with the longing you’d both felt for so long, wasn’t desperate and needy like you were scared you’d never get to taste him again. It was gentle, soft, quiet like the world around you had melted away and all that was left was the simultaneous beatings of your hearts when he pulled back so your noses were brushing, voice barely audible as he whispered. 

“I’m yours, no matter what.”

-

[previous] - [next chapter]

[vibraniumwing]

imagine.

a sirius black x reader wherein the sirius discovers the reader’s hidden fear, desire and talent.

WARNING: a bit angsty at first but fluffy at the end. 

A/N: AAAA okay so mia gave me this sudden spark of an idea so i just went with what my brain could come up with. surprise surprise, i chose sirius black for this one which mean that this is the first one i’ve written for the marauders !! pls be kind because i’m a bit new to writing for them. aaa i hope you guys would like it :< this was also meant to be a very angsty blurb but this is where we are now :D

prompt/inspired by: ariana grande’s imagine, “We go like up ‘til I’m ‘sleep on your chest/love how my face fits so good in your neck.”

---

When love was the topic, you would tend to shy away, rather be talking about exams and whatnot instead of the said emotion. It wasn’t because you hated it; you were certain that you longed to be held the same way James does with Lily, but the little monster of fear withheld you from doing so.

Your eyes wandered to the Gryffindor table where you can see the infamous group — as they would call themselves — the Marauders.

Despite all of them being devilishly handsome, your eyes were only focused on one person, Sirius Black. You’ve only spoken to him once, having him partnered up with you during charms as they were forced apart by Mcgonagall due to their rowdiness. Despite him being quite arrogant, he was definitely clever—much to your surprise— and was quite fun to be around.

“Say Y/N, are you going down to Hogsmeade today?” A friend of yours asked, gulping down her pumpkin juice as she looked at you expectantly. You turned your head around and gave her a small headshake, wanting to sit by the Black Lake and read a few books despite the rather cold weather. 

Your friend shrugged and stood up, asking what you’d want back from the small village before heading off with your small friend group. As they walked away, your eyes glanced back at the table only to see the man you’ve been staring at looking your way, sending a not-so-cheeky wink towards you causing you to blush and turn away.

The rest of the day flew by as normal, with you hastily making your way to the tree you’ve made as your little nook during your quiet times like this. It had the perfect view of the castle and wasn’t too far off from the trek yet enough to keep you hidden from the prying eyes of students that wandered around the campus.

Your eyes stared at the sunlight that glistened against the Black Lake, finding it completely calming you down as you decided to sing a little song to entertain yourself. It was a muggle song you’ve heard from a shop you’ve frequented back in the summer before returning to Hogwarts for the year.

It totally captured how you felt with love; the love you’ve always long for. The unattainable kind.

---

You were a half-blood, having your dad as a wizard and your mom a muggle-born. Your home was always filled with laughter, love and just absolute happiness until one day it wasn’t. Your mother had left for a muggle man, longing for a life without having magic in it.

Within that day, you just didn’t lose a mother, you lost your father and the sense of what love really is. He became closed off and distant, leaving you to tend for yourself as days pass by.

---

The one day you wanted to love again was also the last.

It was your fourth year when you had met him, Christopher Medlar, a Ravenclaw just like you. He taught you how to love and be open, understanding you and your hesitant sentiments completely, making you feel the love and affection you’ve longed for since the day you lost your family.

You had found yourself a new found home within him, a safe space that you’ve never really been exposed to growing up. It all felt foreign and new, yet it was extremely comforting.

Everything was going well between you two until you caught him snogging with a Slytherin and made little to no effort to even talk to you. Making your heart shatter, leaving you to your own pain and despair.

And that day was the day you promised to never love anyone again.

---

Unbeknownst to you however, was the fact that the guy you were looking at earlier at the Great Hall was closely listening to your angelic voice ring out through the quietness of the woods.

Sirius was out and about with the Marauders when he had heard a rather soft voice sing, entrancing him almost immediately. James and Remus were about to speak up when he hushed them right away, fearing the fact that they might scare the person away.

“You guys go on without me, I’ll be able to find you anyways.” He whispered, waving a rather brownish parchment along his friend's way. They both shot him a skeptical look before leaving him alone, now placing bets as to what’ll be the outcome of their friends’ change of plans.

“We go like up ‘til I’m ‘sleep on your chest, love how my face fits so good in your neck. 

Why can’t you imagine a world like that?”

Your singing was interrupted by someone clapping, whipping your head to the direction of the sound, you felt your cheeks immediately flush and heat up at the sight of the male you were looking at.

How mortified were you at the moment? Nobody could ever measure that.

“Nice voice you’ve got there, L/N. Say,what song is that?” Sirius asked so casually, leaning against the tree.  You were at a loss for words, not really sure on how you would react to his compliment since no one really knew you could sing. 

“Just a muggle song I heard a few months back, Black. How long have you been there?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at him as he just shrugged, shoving his hands in his pocket as his signature lazy grin rested on his lips. ‘Merlin, he’s extremely good looking.’ You thought to yourself.

“That’s amazing. Mind telling me what’s it about then, darling?” He probed, now offering you a rather interested look as he settled down beside you.

Your heart jumped out of your chest at his sudden question, unsure on how to answer. You glanced at him, his eyes were locked on you, the same expression painted on his face as he nodded, somewhat signalling that he was waiting for your answer.

Taking a deep breath in, you faced him and said, “It’s about unattainable love. Somewhat like imagining that in this world, you are loved and is being loved in a picture perfect way; a place where no one can really hurt you, Sirius.” A sad smile rested on your lips as your mind wandered back to the horrid memories, the little monster inside taunting you more than ever.

His expression turned into a mixture of sadness, confusion and pity. He quickly caught on, knowing about how you got played by a boy in your house. Sirius had always watched you from afar, not really sure on how to approach you since you were somehow the opposite of him. 

He also feared that he might hurt you, the one thing he kept as a secret and treasured the most.

“Well, you don’t have to imagine that now, darling,” He spoke up, features now showing one of seriousness despite the erratic pace of his heartbeat. You looked at him with wide eyes, unsure of how to react to his words. “I don’t get what you’re saying, Black.”

A sighed, running a hand through his hair, “What I’m saying is why imagine that when I’m here.” He finished. It was rather flattering that he said that but you are unsure; the fear within you warning about how this would just lead you to repeat the same mistakes in the past. Besides, with his reputation, he had enough girls at Hogwarts swooning at the snap of his fingers.

“I appreciate the thought but I’m passing, Black.” You answered, showing him another sad smile as you stared off into the Black Lake. “I think I’m just not ready to love again nor I think I will ever love again. The one I wish for is unattainable, you know. Something far out of reach.” You finished, glancing at the male who had an unreadable expression on his face.

Silence fell upon the two of you until Sirius decided to break it, “But that’s why I’m here. I’ve seen you from afar, Y/N. Don’t think I can’t remember a time where you haven’t looked at me from the Ravenclaw table.” He humored, causing you to look at him with a horrified expression, surprised that he had caught on to your antics.

“Don’t apologize though, no one ever noticed except for me, of course. “I understand that you aren’t ready, but I’m willing to wait for you.” He continued, looking into your eyes as he spoke, “I’m willing to prove to you that you shouldn’t fear love, even if it means for me to wait on forever.” He finished, sighing softly as he grinned.

The monster inside of you thrashed around, wanting for you to not give a chance to Sirius, knowing that there’s a possibility for you to end up like the past but the side that has been longing for something like this is growing stronger as well, making you wish that you shouldn’t fear love in the first place.

A shaky breath escaped you, eyes shutting briefly to collect yourself as you looked at the male, who was waiting patiently. “Just promise me one thing, Sirius.” You told him, looking at him straight into the eyes as you spoke, “The fear inside of me is begging not to give in, but something about you is making me say yes. Promise me that you’ll never break my heart.”

His grin soon turned into a wide smile, nodding at the promise you wanted. “Until my very last breath, love.” as he opened his arms for you, which you looked at with a confused face, unsure on how to react.

“I’m giving you a hug, silly. Now c’mere!” He told you, pulling you into him. He smelled like sweets, a subtle hint of smoke reaching your nose as you easily melted against his touch. It was all foreign to you again yet this time, something was assuring you this would last.

With a few readjustments, you were now in between his legs, back against his chest as his arms were wrapped around you tightly, making you feel extra safe. Your head turned around and you snuggled up against the crook of his neck, eyes fluttering shut as the ambience of your surroundings eased you. He spoke up once more, the vibration from his voice causing you to cozy up against him.

“Soon, you won’t even have to imagine anything. I promise to give you everything you’ve ever wished for.”

---

TAGS: @andromedaa-tonks​ @whoreforfredweasley​

[all1e23]

Between the Stars [Pt.7]

Pairings: Past!Steve x Reader, Bucky x  Reader

Series warnings: CHARACTER DEATH. Grief. Overall sadness. Depression. It’s pretty angsty if I’m being honest. Things mellow out as the series goes on. TW: Military/Spouse death

A/N:   This might be my favorite chapter yet. Bucky is soft, and I love him. Reminder because I know the timeline for this fic is confusing with switching between readers and Bucky's POV, we are eight months past Steve's death. Bucky has been home with her for seven. Thanks to my beautiful beta @moonbeambucky​​​ for looking this chapter over for me. If you like it write me a book report, sing me a song or come scream at me.

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!****

Eight months after Steve’s death, Y/n was playing again. It wasn’t on the same scale as it once was and she was no longer teaching, not that it mattered. It was a big deal, Bucky didn’t downplay just how huge this was. She had given up, threw out her dreams in search of new ones as some misguided form of punishment; maybe she thought it was her penance for some terrible crime she convinced herself she committed by living. Bucky understood that feeling better than most, he really did, but she had nothing to atone for. The only one who needed absolution was Bucky and he hoped that by helping her get her life back, he was earning a tiny bit of forgiveness for everything he had done.  

Nothing would ever completely absolve him, but he prayed this would help to even the scales.

Over the last month, Y/n hasn’t mentioned Steve as much. Bucky didn’t know if that was because she was starting to heal or if it hurt too much to keep talking about him. She still slept in his room most nights, only slightly closer to him now, her foot usually wrapped around his ankle and Steve’s pillow was no longer hugging her back -- it was still there every night though. A handful of nights she fell asleep on the couch watching trashy late-night television and Bucky didn’t know if he should pick her up and carry her to bed. Was it too intimate of a gesture? Should he touch her that way? And if he did what bed would he take her to? It wasn’t something he was ready to test and he wouldn’t risk the potential hurt the wrong move could make. So he let her sleep, and stayed close by, sleeping on the small window bench nearby in case she needed him. 

Things began to resemble something better, calmer and there was a bit of normalcy returning. They even started going out. It began with small outings, a trip or two to the market, or down to the Mexican restaurant twenty minutes away for takeout. A few Fridays back, they spent the entire day at one of those you-pick farms a couple of hours away from the house. She told him she wanted to go get peaches. Bucky wasn’t about to tell her no or tell her that they could pick some up at the grocery store without the hassle of having to pick them off a tree. No, he wouldn’t do that. This was a big step for her; she wanted to go out, and well, she’s so damn pretty when she’s smiling. 

The farm was enormous for the area, sitting at around 200 acres. They had blueberries, pumpkins, peaches, and strawberries. Some of the produce wasn’t ready to pick, but Bucky knew Y/n was planning their next trip as soon as the seasons changed, and he really didn’t mind. They had a petting zoo they found upon arrival, at which point Y/n squealed over the baby goats, and they spent some forty-odd minutes feeding them. Then Bucky spent the next hour talking her out of having a baby goat of her own. Okay, Bucky would get her a damn goat if she really wanted one, but he was praying she would forget about it on the drive home. There was a hay maze that was still in the process of being prepped for the upcoming season but Y/n’s eyes lit up at the mere thought. 

The food had to be Y/n’s favorite most of all. 

There were candied peach slices that she had been so excited about. Bucky couldn’t help but laugh when Y/n had a bite with too much of the ginger that was sprinkled on top and wrinkled her nose in disgust. She glared at him, but it only made him grin wider. They both tried the vanilla scones with fresh peach jam and shared a large Mason jar full of peach iced tea because she said it was silly to spend the extra money when they could share. One sip and all Bucky could think about was the sweetness on his lips is what she would taste like.

Maybe the food had been Bucky’s favorite part, too.

The sun was starting to set, and despite being forced to leave the goats behind thanks to closing, Y/n was still smiling. Bucky followed behind her, letting her lead him to whatever tree she deemed had the best peaches. Y/n delicately placed three more peaches in the pail he was carrying and then set her eyes on him, scrutinizing and somehow still playful. She stepped towards him and flicked the bill of his NASA ball cap, causing it to pop up and sit crooked on his head, and she grinned at the feigned look of annoyance he was giving her. 

“I can’t see your face when you wear a cap.”

She told him that as if it was an excuse for her assault on his favorite hat. 

“Well, I’m trying to hide my stupid looking hair.” 

She giggled at that. 

Y/n giggled, and the little bit of his heart that didn’t belong to her became hers. She leaned in, and if he was a stupider man, he would have thought she was going to kiss him by the look in her eyes and how close their lips were. Y/n slowly reached up and pulled his hat off his head only to plop it on top of her own. If she was his, he would have pulled her close and claimed those pretty lips, savoring the honeyed peach and candied ginger he knew was still lingering on her tongue as he took his sweet time tasting her. He would have kissed her until she was smiling and giggling and sighing in that soft way she does when she’s really happy. 

She wasn’t his. So he didn’t. 

But he would dream about what it would be like if she was. 

“Looks better on me anyway,” Y/n told him with a grin, wandering off towards the next row of trees. 

Bucky could only watch as she walked away with his hat and his heart. He mumbled quietly to the peaches hanging nearby, “Yes, it does.” 

After their outing, their day trips became something they both looked forward to. It wasn’t their norm. In the past, they spent a lot of their time watching movies, sitting in the quiet enjoying each other’s company, or Bucky would read while she played and worked on her music. But this new normal was good, too. It was nice to see more than the seafoam green walls of her living room, and he would do just about anything if it made her happy. 

“Hey.” 

Bucky looked up from his spot on the couch to find Y/n standing next to him in those black skinny jeans that make his knees weak and a plain white t-shirt. He knew she was wearing that black lace bra of hers because he could make out the imprint of the lace against the delicate fabric of her shirt, and he recognized the design from an embarrassing mix-up on laundry day. Bucky couldn’t seem to find his voice so he met her gaze, a question lingering in his own eyes as he waited for her to spill whatever she was so excited about.

“Wanna take me out?” 

He laughed softly and closed the book in his hand. He found it funny that she still asked him that. The answer would always be yes. For her, it’s always yes. 

“I’ll take you wherever you wanna go, Y/n.”

They went out to dinner that night. It wasn’t anything lavish, but it was the right amount of rowdy. There was a band playing out on the patio and the music carried through the open doors to where they shared a small booth inside, it was loud but not so they couldn’t talk. She ordered pasta because pasta always makes her happy, and Bucky tries his hardest to make sure she’s happy. They talked a lot, well, she talked a lot. That wouldn’t be so strange if she hadn’t been so closed off the last eight months. 

Bucky let her talk about how she wanted to see if the band had any shows soon because she wanted to see them play in a better venue, and she told him she liked lights the restaurant had above the tables -- a large beam with hanging Edison bulbs wrapped around them. She talked about the funny picture of him Sam posted on Instagram. Bucky had rolled his eyes at that. Sam had the bad habit of taking candid photos of everyone, and he always posted the worst ones of Bucky. This one happened to be from the worst possible angle; the camera caught his mouth hanging wide open as Bucky took a bite out half of a cheese pizza, folded over and covered in potato chips. Some people eat pizza that way, it wasn’t weird or funny, and Bucky stood by that. The night was perfect, but even perfection has a few cracks if you look hard enough. 

Someone had mistaken them for a couple that night, and Bucky was quick to correct them. He informed the older man and his wife that she was his best friend, she was taken by another lucky man. It was all platonic Bucky had said. Y/n didn’t say anything. She watched Bucky charm the older couple and gave them a friendly smile and a wave as they walked away. 

“Platonic,” she muttered quietly once it was just them again. 

Bucky looked up from his half-eaten burger and ketchup soaked fries, took in the furrow of her brow, and the frown sitting where a smile was beaming only a few moments ago, and his heart sank. 

None of that was good. 

“Yeah, Trouble.” 

Bucky’s eyes dropped to the wedding band she was still wearing without meaning to, and she quickly pulled her hand under the table. The rest of dinner was quiet, and they didn’t speak about it again. 

--

They never talked about what happened at the farm or dinner that night, but whatever bothered her the night at the restaurant hadn’t caused a setback in the healing process as Bucky had feared. It seemed forgotten. Bucky was thankful for that, and he was thankful for days like today. Y/n wanted to spend the day at home, relaxing. She informed him that today would be perfect if she could spend the day with just him. She might have said something like, “I just want to spend today curled up on the couch watching movies with you.” Not that Bucky memorized the way her voice sounded when she said that or anything. 

Three movies into their marathon and Y/n declared they needed a break. She was going to figure out something to eat for dinner, and Bucky wasn’t sure how it happened, but he found himself upstairs, staring at a ghost. The letters Steve gave him have been tucked away in a drawer of the old desk that sat in the corner of his room. They caused him more heartache than Steve intended Bucky was sure. Or maybe this was exactly what Steve wanted. This was his punishment for loving her. Bucky tapped the letter on the desk and ran a hand down his face, Bucky had hoped they would disappear, and he wouldn’t have to look at them again, but there all twelve sat. 

A heavy-handed fist pounded on the front door, startling Bucky out of his trance and his stomach dropped at the sound. He wasn’t down there with Y/n, not that she needed him to answer the door, and lord knows if she knew he dared to even think about babying her like that, she would chew him out for a week straight. Still, he didn’t like leaving her completely on her own, not yet. Bucky tossed the letter back in the drawer, and hastily closed it before trampling downstairs. 

Bucky made out a familiar voice as he reached the bottom of the stairs. “Well, you never answer your phone anymore, and I figured you were spending all your time with-” 

Her father met Bucky’s eyes, and he grinned.

“-Bucky. Well, shit, son. It’s good to see you home.” 

Bucky grinned and took the hand that was extended towards him. He hadn’t expected it to be her father at the door; he thought Sam or maybe Natasha. It made sense, though. No one has come by to check on her since he’s been home. It was about time they started to get visitors, and Y/n didn’t answer her phone much anymore, so if someone wanted to talk to her showing up like this was their only choice. Bucky knew she wasn’t doing that on purpose, she had to put some things off in order to keep going, and there wasn’t any shame in that. 

He was doing the very same thing. 

Y/n was uncomfortable, whether her dad knew Bucky wasn’t sure. Bucky knew, though. She hates small talk, so Bucky knew when Y/n said she was starting the grill, she just wanted a moment to breathe without being judged; a minute so she could prepare mentally for a guest when she didn’t want one. Bucky could keep her dad busy until she was ready for idle chit chat and undoubtedly Invasive questions. How hard could it be to keep up a conversation and look for a small fire on the porch? 

He could handle it; smoke meant they had to run. It would be fine. 

“I thought you would’ve stopped by before now.” 

Bucky passed over an amber-colored bottle from the fridge, taking a beer for himself and leaned against the counter. It probably wasn’t proper or how Steve would entertain him, but Bucky wasn’t Steve. He didn’t even know why he was thinking about that. This was still Steve’s house and his wife, no matter how much Bucky wished this life was his. 

“Well, I knew she was in good hands. She has you.” 

He smiled but shook his head. “I appreciate that. She’s probably helping me more than I’m helping her.” 

“I doubt that.” 

Bucky caved under the weight of his stare and grudgingly nodded his head in agreement (or cession depending on who you ask). He has yet to win an argument with her dad, and Bucky wasn't about to try to now. 

"We haven't had a chance to talk since you've been home. I've meaning to come by.  Y'know how much we love Steve; we always have." 

Bucky tried to keep his face impassive, his grip on the bottle in his hand tightened, and he could feel his stomach-churning. Where the hell was this going? 

“He was a good man and a good husband. Took care of Y/n, made sure she was happy and was always respectful.” 

Bucky relaxed some when he realized he was simply praising his lost friend, and he nodded, taking a swig of his beer to wash his guilt down. Yeah, that was Steve. The polished side of the coin. The hero, not the broken sidekick.The better of the two. Bucky heard the speech before; it was one truth he knew well. 

“But I always thought it was going to be you.” 

Bucky froze and by some small miracle managed to keep his face blank as the older man went on, “Even up to the day of the wedding I had this feeling one of the girls were going to come running in, flowers in their hair to tell me she ran off with you and the wedding was off.” 

Bucky huffed. “She would never do that.” 

Her dad smiled and nodded his agreement. “She wouldn’t, but you would have.”

Bucky licked his lips and dropped his gaze to the counter, not risking the chance the truth could be seen in his eyes. He couldn’t lie and say he didn’t think about it after Steve proposed. That he didn’t let it play out like some romantic drama in his head where he got to her just in time and told her the truth, the whole real, painful truth, and she loved him back all along. 

But she didn’t. She loved Steve, still did. 

It was obvious any time Steve was mentioned or when something reminded her of him. He could see it written all over her how much she still loved Steve, and Bucky couldn’t blame her. He still loved Steve too. Despite everything, Bucky loved them both. 

“Give her time to work through her grief, and I’m guessing you need to deal with your own. Losing someone you love is never easy. The time will come though when you both can move on. I’m not saying you’ll do that together or that I think you should, but there may be the chance to in the future. If you were looking for hope of some sort, well, that’s the best I can offer you.” 

Y/n had found her way back into the kitchen, no smoke in sight and their conversation ended there. It wasn’t one Bucky wanted to continue anyway. Not when the hope he was offering didn’t exist. Bucky tried to leave them alone so she could spend alone time with her dad, but she gave him the look, the one that pleaded with him to stay and tugged on his heart. So he stayed by her side until the stars were shining brightly and they were alone once again. 

Bucky had been more careful with his affection after that. He was meaningful in his touch and waited to make sure he meant each one. Not that it was that hard to do, he meant every one. When it came to Y/n, everything Bucky did had meaning, a purpose. 

Y/n had started asking him to go on a walk around sunset every night. It was getting cooler out now that autumn was right around the corner, and she liked to watch how everything around them changed -- slowly almost without notice.

Their walk tonight felt different. Things had changed between them, when Bucky didn’t know. He wasn’t sure what they had changed to, but he wasn’t going to question it. He was afraid if he did, she would realize her mistake, and all these small moments between them would stop. Halfway through their walk, Y/n had let her hands hang by her side instead of staying crossed over her chest. When they were kids, she would do that when she wanted Bucky to hold her hand, or maybe he imagined that she ever truly wanted to hold his hand. 

Bucky never could figure her out.

He never knew what she meant when she would lean in close to whisper something in his ear and pull away just as fast. When she would tease him and give him that giggle that had his heart stopping and restarting like an old engine that was about to give out. He could never tell if she felt something beyond what they already were; if she wanted him the way he wanted her. 

Her street was just up the hill, and Bucky finally gave in to the screaming in his chest because feeling her hand in his once more was all he could think about. He slowly slid his fingertips down her forearm until he reached her palm. He risked a peek at her as he laced their fingers together and caught the smile she was trying to hide by dropping her head to gaze down to her white high-tops and his black boots. 

Bucky didn’t know if Y/n wanted to hold his hand, and at this point, he wasn’t sure if he knew her as well as he thought, but he sure did love that smile.

Previous // Next

[hermannsthumb]

Could you please write #43 grandparents/neighbors one?

43. we’re having our family meal at my grandparents’ house this year so fingers crossed your parents still live next door and you grew up to be even hotter

from winter writing prompts here

oh god this one got so long. sorry everyone! thank you to @k-sci-janitor for the alien bit because it was so fucking funny

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Holidays have gotten a little weird to manage since Newt transformed into a fully-fledged adult with an apartment and a job and stuff, so while he hasn’t made it to the big Geiszler celebration in Germany every December since starting college out of elementary school, he still tries to make a point of dropping by his dad’s for dinner and a movie or something to fill his holiday quota. It’s fine by him; he loves his family, but they’re definitely overwhelming, and trying to submit final grades and work on syllabuses for the next semester all while distant relatives ruffle his hair and ask him when he’s going to hit his growth spurt is not his idea of a relaxing time. It’s a constant point of contention between him and his dad. This year more than most, apparently.

“Your grandmother misses you!” he tells Newt sadly over their Chinese takeout. “She calls me every week to ask how you are, and why you never visit with them. Every week.” He waves a fork at Newt. “You’re breaking her heart.”

“I’m in the lab, like, twenty-four-seven, dad,” Newt sighs. It’s a well-rehearsed conversation at this point, but it doesn’t get any less tiresome. Especially because he knows his dad is lying about the phone call thing—Newt is a great grandson and texts his grandmother plenty, thank you very much, he would know if he was breaking her heart. “I’m working straight through winter break this year. Seriously.”

“That’s what you did last year,” Newt’s dad says. “And the year before that…” Newt turns the volume up on the TV to cut his dad off before he can segue into the next part of his argument, which is (usually) that Newt needs to work on his personal life, maybe settle down, produce some grandkids of his own. Or at least adopt a cat. Also well-rehearsed.

He’s not sure why he says what he does next—maybe in a desperate attempt to distract his dad further. Maybe because of the sudden onslaught of childhood memories the mention of his grandparents’ house brought on. “Hey, do you remember that boy who used to live next door to grandma?” he says. “He had the weird haircut and always dressed kind of funny?” Old-fashioned, and a little too formal for the sort of things that little kids tend to do, climbing trees or playing in the mud—sweatervests and polished loafers and starched-white knee-highs.

Newt’s dad blinks at him. Newt half expects him to declare that Newt is nuts, and that he has no idea what he’s talking about, like this is one of those horror stories where the childhood friend turns out to be some ghost who died fifty years prior. The clothing would match up, he guesses. But he smiles in recognition a moment later. “You mean the Gottlieb boy?” he says.

“Gottlieb,” Newt echoes. It sounds familiar enough. “Hermann, I think. When I’d stay with grandma for the summer we would play together every day. I wonder what he’s doing now.” Hermann was a smart guy, a real geek like Newt; he used to carry a graphing calculator around in his pocket and build the most goddamn pristine model spacecrafts Newt had ever seen. Hermann’s dad shipped him off to a prestigious boarding school the last summer Newt spent there, when they were around twelve or so. Newt started at MIT not long after. “Dude’s probably designing rocket ships by now or something.”

“You could ask him yourself if you came with me,” Newt’s dad laughs. “The Gottliebs never moved away, and their children actually visit. I’m sure your Hermann visits, too.”

“Ha,” Newt says. “Yeah.”

It’s snowing by the time Newt and his dad finish their movie, and Newt (fearing his dad’s driving even in ideal conditions) declines the offer of a lift home to trudge his way through it to his T stop instead. It’s nice to have the chance to be alone with his thoughts, anyway, because he can’t seem to get funny little Hermann Gottlieb out of his head. What is he doing now?

A quick Facebook search on the train produces a few Hermann Gottliebs, but none of them promising—none of them have the brown eyes or strangely angular face (devoid of any baby fat even that young) Newt remembers, none of them are from the right German countryside, none of them went to a preppy English boarding school. Google (utilizing the information Newt does have) is a little more rewarding, and by the time Newt presses the button to request his stop, he’s scrounged up a decent amount of info: Hermann Gottlieb has a doctorate in astrophysics, Hermann Gottlieb publishes papers at a slightly terrifying rate, and Hermann Gottlieb turned out kinda hot.

As Newt stares down at a slightly grainy current photograph of his old friend—haircut and clothing unchanged, a cane in hand, some round librarian glasses perched on the end of his nose, wide mouth twisted into a scowl—he suddenly recalls another thing about Hermann Gottlieb: the summer Hermann was sent away to boarding school was the summer that Hermann kissed Newt goodbye, shyly and tearfully, under the shade of the tall maple tree in his yard. It was the last time Newt ever saw Hermann. It was Newt’s first kiss.

“Oh, boy,” Newt says.

He texts his dad when he gets back to his apartment. When do we leave?

Newt feels like the belle of the fucking ball when he steps into his grandparents’ house a week later, snow dusting his shoulders, small suitcase clenched in his hand. His cheeks are kissed; his scarf and hat and leather jacket are brushed off and tossed onto a coat rack; his hair is in parts smoothed down (too messy!) and ruffled (too flat!); he’s hugged more times than he has been in the entire last year, probably. “Still playing around with bugs in the dirt, eh, Newt?” his grandfather booms, tucking Newt into the crook of his arm with enough force to knock Newt’s glasses off.

“Actually,” Newt squeaks, scrambling for both what he remembers of his very rusty German, and his glasses before they can hit the ground, “entomology isn’t really my main focus at—”

“Newt’s studying jellyfish now,” Newt’s dad declares proudly. “He went on a diving expedition this July.”

“Diving? How exciting,” Newt’s grandmother says.

“Yeah,” Newt says. He pushes his glasses back on. “Yeah, it was fascinating, I was lucky to get the funding for it. You wouldn’t believe the sorts of—”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Newt’s cousin says.

“My little Newt’s a daredevil!” Newt’s dad says.

“It’s not that dangerous,” Newt says. “As long as you’re—”

“What happened to that nice man your father said you were dating?” Newt’s grandfather says. “With the, the what was it, the poetry? The poet? We thought you’d bring him!”

Newt flushes. Trust his dad to talk up some random guy Newt dated in March like it was a long-term affair and not an elongated one-night stand that fizzled out after three weeks. Though maybe that one’s on Newt—it’s not like he mentioned the one-night stand part to his dad, after all. He definitely didn’t mention that the guy ended it with a poem, too. “We broke up,” he says, weakly. He wriggles out from the throng of the crowd. “Look, it’s so great seeing you all, but I’m actually, like, really tired, soooooo…?”

“Oh, of course you are,” Newt’s grandmother says. She pats his head. “What a long flight you must have had! We’ll send someone up for you for dinner—you can have your old guest room.”

“Cool,” Newt says.

He scurries up the stairs.

The guest room he slept in during those summers is almost exactly the way he remembers it, but a little dustier—the floral quilt on the bed, his grandma’s sewing table crammed into the corner, the bookcase stocked with a weird combination of kid’s books and illustrated encyclopedias that Newt used to pore over for hours as a kid, often with Hermann. Newt draws back the embroidered curtains and peers out the window at the Gottliebs’ snow-capped house next door. Hermann’s window was directly across from his. It still is, technically, though the curtains (these navy blue and embroidered with little constellations) are pulled tight, and Newt has a feeling that Hermann hasn’t set foot in his old room in well over a decade. Two decades, probably.

He remembers the one summer he showed Hermann how to make a soup can telephone, and they managed to string it all the way across between their windows before discovering it kinda didn’t work as well as Newt said it would. He remembers when Hermann’s dad banned him from the Gottlieb house for tracking water all over their front hallway after he and Hermann went wading in the creek, but it was really Hermann who did it, because he forgot to take his shoes off and they got soaked, and Newt just took the fall for it so Hermann wouldn’t get in trouble. And when Hermann asked Newt to play astronaut with him, and Newt insisted on being an alien and mimed the chestburster scene from Alien, and Hermann freaked out so bad he fell in a mud puddle and got grounded for ruining his clothing, and Newt got grounded for that and for watching Alien when he wasn’t supposed to, and they spent the following few days staring sadly out across at each other before Newt’s grandma finally got tired of his moping and sent him to work weeding the garden. He remembers knotting a little friendship bracelet for Hermann out of embroidery thread he found in his grandmother’s sewing basket and Hermann vowing to keep it until he died.

Newt’s half of the soup can phone is still on the windowsill, though the string snapped and crumbled apart years ago. He picks at the peeling Chicken Noodle label, so distracted that he almost doesn’t notice the light suddenly seeping through at the edges of Hermann’s curtains, or the way they’re pushed open—almost.

Hermann—real, live, adult Hermann, botched haircut and round glasses and all—stares out at Newt with a shocked expression on his face. Newt drops the can with a clatter.

Then he waves.

“Hey, Grandma?” Newt says, poking his head into the kitchen. Tonight’s dinner is a massive pot of soup boiling away on the stovetop, dessert a mountain of cookies and tiny pastries on serving platters on the counters. Newt hasn’t had food that looked this good since he moved out, to be honest. The intersection of Newt’s sad lack of cooking skills and his attempts at vegetarianism means he eats a lot of boxed mac-and-cheese and frozen Vegetable Lovers’ pizzas. “Are you—?"

“Oh, Newt!” Newt’s grandmother says. She sets down her wooden spoon. “Are you feeling rested, then?”

“Yeah,” Newt says. “Grandma, I was wondering, could I—uh—maybe run some food over to the Gottliebs? To be…neighborly? We just have so much, and—”

“That’s a wonderful idea,” Newt’s grandmother says. “They keep to themselves, mostly, but I can’t imagine they’d turn it down. You might even see your little friend again! What was his name? You were so fond of him.”

“Hermann,” Newt says, quickly shoving cookies into a red-lid plastic container. “Thanks, Grandma.”

He tucks the tupperware under his arm and nearly wipes out on the icy front path he runs to the Gottliebs’ so fast. Before he can so much as catch his breath and knock, their door swings open; Hermann, dressed in a tacky Hannukah sweater, arches an eyebrow at him. “I saw you sprint over here like a bloody madman,” he says, in blessed English. He must’ve remembered how shitty Newt’s German was when they were kids. “Hello, Newton. What’s so terribly important?”

His voice got deeper—expected—and he swapped out his German accent for an English one somewhere along the way. Probably at his stuffy boarding school. He also got taller—he’s got a few inches on Newt now, but Newt admits that’s not exactly hard. God, he’s even hotter in person. “Uh,” Newt says. Why is he here? Oh, right. He thrusts out the tupperware. “I brought some cookies over for you?”

Hermann peers down at the offering over his glasses. His forehead wrinkles. “How considerate,” he says. He pulls an olive-green parka on and steps out onto the porch, tugging the door shut behind him. He taps at a peeling porch swing with the end of his cane. “Just leave them there. Would you like to take a walk?”

It’s freezing, and snowing, but for some reason, a walk sounds like the best idea in the world right now. “Yes, please,” Newt says, and chucks the cookies onto the swing.

“I must say,” Hermann says, after their meandering walk around the Gottliebs’ yard takes them to the old maple tree. The branches are bare, but thick, and shield them from most of the falling snow. Hermann’s breath puffs out white in front of his angular face. The last time I stood here, Newt thinks, he kissed me. “I really did not expect to see you.”

“I didn’t expect to see you, either,” Newt admits. “From what I remember, you and your family weren’t—uh—well, very close. I didn’t think you’d be coming back to share in the holiday cheer with them, is what I mean.”

The corner of Hermann’s mouth twitches up. “That’s certainly one way of describing it. Yes, I suppose you’re right—my father is a bit of a bastard, isn’t he?” Newt laughs awkwardly, unsure whether to agree or attempt to weakly the defend a guy who openly hated him for being a bad influence on Hermann most of his childhood; he’s grateful when Hermann continues and saves him the choice. “This is the first year I’ve come home in a long while. My brother’s just had a daughter, you see, and I thought I should start getting used to playing uncle.”

“Oh, congrats,” Newt says. Hermann shrugs, and Newt has the distinct feeling that this is Hermann’s older brother, who used to dissemble Hermann’s telescope and hide the pieces around the house when Hermann annoyed him, and tattled on Newt and Hermann to Hermann’s parents the one time Newt snuck in to see Hermann after he got banned. He always made Newt thankful that he was an only child. “Same here, actually. Not the uncle thing—I mean I haven’t visited since I was in college. Too busy.”

“I know,” Hermann says, and then adds teasingly (in a way that makes color flood Newt’s cheeks and his heart beat just a little faster), “I’ve looked you up online. Er—quite a bit recently, in fact. I was curious. You’ve made quite the name for yourself, haven’t you, Dr. Geiszler?”

“I,” Newt squeaks, and then coughs. “I mean, I guess? I like…science.”

“I oughtn’t be surprised,” Hermann says. “You were always giving me bugs, and salamanders, and funny little frogs—”

Newt liked bugs, and salamanders, and frogs, but he liked Hermann more, and the gifts had a lot more to do with the latter than the former, because what kid wouldn’t want bugs or salamanders or frogs, right? Not that Hermann ever appreciated them—especially not the worms Newt would pluck from the sidewalks after rainstorms. He thinks he got grounded for that one, too, because his grandma wouldn’t believe that he really wasn’t trying to terrorize the poor Gottlieb boy. “And what about you?” Newt says. He pokes his elbow into Hermann’s side. “Dr. Gottlieb? Guess those model rockets paid off.”

(“No, Newton,” Hermann would snap at him on the rare occasions he would allow Newt to watch him piece one together, “the glue hasn’t dried yet. You have to be patient, or else it’ll fall apart.”)

“Not yet,” Hermann says, “but I hope soon.”

Hermann smiles at him. A snowflake catches in his eyelashes—his long, pretty, dark eyelashes. “Do you remember when you kissed me here?” Newt blurts out.

“It’s hardly the sort of thing I’d forget,” Hermann says. He reaches out and tucks a piece of Newt’s hair up into his hat. “I like your tattoos—I saw the photographs on your social media accounts. They suit you.” Newt wonders if this means Hermann saw the shirtless selfie he posted on Instagram. “I’m also pleased to see you’ve gotten your braces removed. It wasn’t a very pleasant experience last time.”

Then he leans in and kisses Newt. Again, technically. It’s so light and brief Newt hardly believes it even happened. Their glasses clack together, and when Hermann pulls away, he straightens out Newt’s.

“I confess,” Hermann says, “that I’m wholly pleased to see how you’ve turned out. I hope that wasn’t too forward of me. I’ve been thinking about doing it all night.”

“Jeez, dude,” Newt says, blinking at him, his head swimming just a little. Hermann looks smug. “Not, uh, not too forward. So. Uh. You wanna get dinner or something this week and catch up?”

Hermann snorts, and nods.

[gra-sonas]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes, Isobel Evans/Greogry Manes Characters: Alex Manes, Michael Guerin, Isobel Evans, Gregory Manes, Max Evans Additional Tags: Fluff and Angst, Christmas Fluff, Malex Secret Santa 2020, 12 Days of Malex 2020, Kid Fic, Married Couple Summary:

Michael's eyes widened when he noticed Alex's sweater. "Oh my god, this is my early Christmas present tonight. My model husband, wearing an "ugly" Christmas sweater. Ellie, have you seen this? Have you seen how handsome Alex looks in his sweater? I mean, he'd give Colin Firth a run for his money any day, but wow, this sweater. I'm in awe."

---

My @malexsanta​ gift for @usbournejez - 7.5k of fluff with a smidge of angst. 

Your prompt "On Christmas Eve, Michael and Alex have to look after Greg's little baby together. Their true nature as parents are revealed. Also, you know, Alex holding a baby under Christmas tree lighting. How could Michael resist that?" spoke to me immediately, and I hope I managed to write something you’ll enjoy. MERRY CHRISTMAS! ❤️

~*~

"What are you wearing?" Isobel asked, looking at Alex in mild disbelief. Her usually well-dressed brother-in-law was wearing what looked a lot like a replica of Colin Firth's reindeer Christmas sweater from the first Bridget Jones movie.

"Michael's idea," Alex said, his dreamy smile betraying his annoyed tone.

Isobel chuckled. "Oh honey, you have it bad for my brother, so bad even, that you, Mr. GQ himself, put on an," she air quoted the next word "ugly Christmas sweater to make him happy."

Alex laughed. " Don't tell anyone, but I ordered Christmas themed onesies for us to wear in front of the open fire. There are candy canes and red-nosed reindeers printed all over it. He'll love it!"

"Alex, you're the gift Michael's been waiting for his whole life, even during the 50 years we were floating in our pods," Isobel said fondly.

Alex laughed, delighted, and then looked over Isobel's shoulder.

"Didn't you bring your husband? And where's the main attraction?"

"Greg's just getting all her things from the car. She fell asleep on the drive here and we thought we'd wait until the last moment to wake her up. You know how she is when someone interrupts one of her naps," Isobel explained.

"Like mother, like daughter," Alex chuckled.

Isobel flicked his ear, which caused Alex to let out a painful yelp. Then she poked her perfectly manicured finger into his stomach – right into Rudolph's red nose.

"You are still holding that against me? I was 9 months pregnant when that happened. You try that some day, Captain, and I'll come over and wake you up from a restful nap you were only able to take because your kid didn't do cartwheels inside of you for a change. You'd be grumpy, too."

"You know, if I could, I would absolutely try that," Alex said wistfully.

Isobel looked at him, an eyebrow raised in question.

"The pregnancy thing," Alex explained. "If I could, I'd do it. You know how much Michael's yearning to become a dad, but that's something I'll ever be able to give him. I sometimes wonder whether he ever regretted that he didn't fall in forever love with a woman."

Alex's train of thought was interrupted, when Isobel wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a tight hug.

"You know," she began, but interrupted herself to kiss his cheek. Then she pulled back to look him in the eyes. "There are many other ways for you two to become parents, Alex. Michael loves, you. He loves you so much, no amount of yearning for a kid will ever make him regret that the love of his life is someone who isn't equipped with a womb." She squeezed him tightly. "Come on, let's go outside and help Greg."

Alex smiled into her shoulder and breathed in deeply. She smelled expensive today, but the scent of rain underneath was unmistakable. It was so familiar and soothing, the cloud of self-doubt over his head evaporated. He squeezed her one last time before he let go of her.

"Can I try my luck and get her?"

Isobel smiled at him, her eyes shining with fondness. "You do that. She loves her Uncle Alex the most, maybe she won't be too cross when it's you who wakes her up."

Alex followed Isobel outside to the back of the car parked in the driveway. Gregory was folded in half and dived for one last thing stuck in the in the far right corner of the trunk.

"Gotcha," he exclaimed in a hushed voice, carefully retreating back out of the trunk until he was able to stand up to his full height without being danger of hitting his head.

"Hi, baby brother, it's good to see you." He smiled warmly at Alex, and Alex felt a pang of love burst in his chest. He was on good terms with all three of his brothers these days, even with Flint, but Greg held a special place in his heart.

"Hello, you big lump. Good to see you, too," he joked and stepped closer to wrap Greg into a tight hug.

"Nice sweater," his brother murmured, "Michael will love it."

Alex pulled back and chuckled. "You know him too well. I just told Isobel that I ordered Christmas onesies we'll wear tonight. It's just wonderful to see him being a kid at Christmas, making up for all the years during his childhood he couldn't. Enough of that, though. Why don't you guys grab all the stuff and go inside while I'll try my best to kiss the princess awake?"

Isobel hauled a large bag over her shoulder, picked up two paper bags, and headed towards the house. Gregory clicked a button on the car key, and the trunk door slowly closed. Then he picked up the baby swing and another bag and nodded at Alex. "She's all yours. Good luck with our little Miss Grumpypants." He winked at Alex, then he turned around and followed Isobel.

Alex took a deep breath and steeled himself for the task ahead. He loved Eloise like he was his own, and she loved him. At least he hoped she would one day. She was only seven months old and couldn't do much more than coo and babble, but going by how huge she smiled whenever Alex picked her up, he liked to think that she knew who he was, and that she loved him.

He walked around the car and carefully opened the back door. She was fast asleep in her car seat, the ear of her favorite toy bunny (a gift from Alex) clutched into her tiny fist. Alex's heart clenched at the sight of her. She was so small and adorable. He couldn't wait to spend the day with her.

Carefully, he unbuckled the seat belt and tried to wrangle her arms out of the safety harness without jostling her too much. Her tiny mouth pursed in discontent, and she blinked one eye open.

"Hello sweetheart, there you are," he whispered and bent forward to press a soft kiss to her forehead. She mewled unhappily but grabbed for him until she had a fist full of Rudolf's face in her hand. He lifted her out of the car seat and scooped her up in his arms.

"That's my girl. I know you're still sleepy but it's cold out here and we should go inside. You can take another nap later, I promise."

She whimpered and buried her face in the crook of his neck, holding onto him and her bunny. He patted her back and closed the car door before he carried her back inside the house.

Alex stopped at the open door of the guest room, where Gregory and Isobel had already placed the bag with the baby's change of clothes. After Liz and Max's twin were born, Michael had set up a beautiful baby bed he'd built himself. "I want our nephews and nieces to have a bed here to take naps or spend the night when they come over, Alex, and maybe, one day, we'll even have a baby of our own."

Alex had struggled to hold back tears when Michael had said it. He always did when Michael mentioned things like having a baby or being a dad. He knew that Michael loved him, and that they'd probably adopt a child one day (he had several websites of adoption agencies bookmarked), but he couldn't quite shake the feeling of wondering whether Michael ever felt regret that they couldn't have biological children, like his alien siblings.

"Oh, there you are. Is she awake?" Isobel's voice nudged him out of his thoughts.

"I wouldn't quite say she's awake yet, but she's not asleep anymore either," Alex replied as he made his way into the living room. He smiled down on Ellie's head and pressed a kiss into her golden hair.

He took the bunny and dropped it on the nearby couch. Ellie snuffled and let out another sleepy unhappy mewl. Isobel came closer and smiled at her daughter.

"Could you turn her around so I can take off her jacket? Your house is so cozy and warm, I think I'll even take off the cardigan. You can put it back on when you think she's getting cold."

Alex turned Ellie around in his arms to give Isobel access to the. Ellie pouted at being wrenched from the comfort of Alex's embrace, but when she saw her mom, the pout quickly turned into a toothless grin.

"Hi baby girl, there you are. Did you have a good nap?" Ellie kicked her legs into the air in reply. "Oh yes, you are waking up. I can see that. Let me take off your jacket, sweetheart," Isobel cooed, opened the zipper of the jacket, and placed a flurry of quick kisses across her daughter's face.

Ellie giggled and threw her arms up in the air as far as she could. Isobel was quick to pull the sleeves off of Ellie's arms while she was still holding them up.

"This trick works like a charm every time," she told Alex in a conspiratorial tone. He filed the information away for later use. "Good to know," he grinned. "Can I try it with the cardigan?"

Isobel nodded, and scooped Ellie up in her arms. Alex stepped closer and opened the buttons of Ellie's green cardigan.

"Oh, is that cashmere?" he wondered.

Isobel rolled her eyes. "Yes, gift from my mom. I know she means well, but a cashmere cardigan for a baby isn't the most useful gift if I'm being honest. I would never tell her that, though. She loves being a grandma and that's what matters."

"True, I don't think I've ever seen your mom as relaxed and happy as she seems to be when she's spending time with your and Max's kids."

"I'll admit that I didn't expect Mrs. "what will my friends at the Country Club say about this" Evans would be such a devoted grandmother, not afraid to get her clothes dirty when she's taking the twins to the playground, nor ever complaining when Ellie spits on her. I'm so happy that Max and I are able to give her the baby experience, since she never had that with us."

Alex 's thoughts drifted off to Jesse. It had been five years since his father's death, and most days he was just grateful that he'd never have to be afraid of the man again. There were still moments when he missed him, though. Not for what or how Jesse was, but for what he maybe could've been under different circumstances. Would he have softened with grandchildren around?

Alex closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head. No, he wouldn't have. His father had been a hard man, and a soldier through and through. He would've despised Ellie and the twins for being part alien, probably wouldn't even have hesitated to lock them up somewhere, together with their parents. Alex shuddered at the thought.

He forced his eyes open again and looked at Isobel and Ellie. Isobel looked at him, worry creasing her brow.

"Sorry, just thought about my dad for a second. It happens sometimes," he said apologetically.

She nodded. "I know. Greg does, too."

She shifted Ellie on one hip and lifted one hand to cup Alex's face.

"It's okay, Alex. Losing a parent is hard. No matter what kind of parent. Grief doesn't follow logic, it follows emotions. And emotions are complicated. Messy." She stroked his cheek with the soft pad of one finger. "Come on, let this little nugget take your thoughts off of unpleasant memories. See if you get her to lift her arms so you can take the cardigan off."

Alex pressed a quick kiss to Isobel's open palm before he focused on Ellie again.

Isobel shifted her in her arms and he started peppering Ellie's face with little kisses. She squealed happily and raised her arms in excitement. Alex was quick to make use of the opportunity, and not half a minute later he held the cardigan in his hands.

"Ha, neat trick. I'll try and see if it works with Michael, too."

Isobel's face twisted in disgust. "Ew, I really didn't need that mental image of your and my brother's bedroom antics."

"Are you telling me you haven't tried it with Greg yet?"

She blushed. "That's between me and my husband. A propos, husband." She turned around to look for him. "Greg? Did you fall asleep in there?"

Gregory entered the living room, his phone in hand.

"No, just checked the weather report. We should get on the road if we want to make it there before the snow."

Isobel nodded. "Okay, time to say goodbye, sweetheart. Mom and dad won't be gone long. We'll be back tomorrow morning, just in time for opening the presents, and breakfast."

She turned to Alex. "You are making breakfast, aren't you? I'm dying to eat your pancakes and drink coffee from that fancy machine of yours. Husband, dearest, why don't we have a fancy coffee maker?"

"Because I believe in the magic of ChemEx, not coffee machines, honey. And now come, just a quick goodbye and then we really have to go." He bent down and took Ellie from Isobel's arms.

She laughed happily when he wrapped her in a comforting hug and kissed her chubby little cheeks. "Be a good girl, Ellie. We'll be back tomorrow morning."

Isobel hugged Alex, also kissing him on the cheek.

"When does Michael come home? Did he or Max say what they are up to?"

Alex shook his head, then he held his arms out in front of him and Greg placed Ellie in his arms.

"He didn't say, just that they were going to check something they discovered on a map? He didn't elaborate, but he said he'd be back home in time for dinner at breakfast this morning."

"Okay, I hope they'll be okay out there in this weather."

Alex's heart clenched painfully at the idea of something happening to Michael, but then he forced himself to relax. "They took Max's Jeep, not the truck. I'm sure they'll be fine. Michael wouldn't do anything reckless." He frowned. "Well, not on Christmas Eve at least. I'll text him later and ask how they're doing. Maybe they're on their way back already."

Isobel nodded and squeezed Alex's arm.

"If you hear from them, text me? I'll put my phone on silent, but I'll sneak a glance at it every now and then. There will be plenty of boring speeches tonight. But it's all for a good cause, and as the event planner, it's my duty to attend."

She kissed the top of Ellie's head.

"Be good, Ellie. I miss you already and can't wait to cuddle with you tomorrow morning. I love you." She placed another kiss on Alex's cheek. "And I love you, too. Thank you so much for taking care of her. We'd be lost without you."

Alex laughed. "Nonsense, you know how much I love having her here. We're going to have a lot of fun. I have everything we need like diapers, formula, toys. I have yours, Greg's and Dr. Lieberman's phone numbers on speed dial, Kyle lives just 2 miles away, I'm experienced in first aid, and Michael's an alien with healing powers."

Isobel looked at him with wide eyes.

"Good god, Alex, I know she's in the very best hands with you. Relax. We trust you. Indefinitely. You are an amazing uncle, and apart from Michael, Liz and Max, there's no one else in the world I'd trust my kid with as much, as I trust you. And now we're leaving to avoid the snow. See you tomorrow morning, and please, text me when you hear from my idiot brothers!"

She took Gregory's hand and pulled him with her. Greg looked over his shoulder at Alex. "She's right, there's no one else I'd trust my daughter with more than you. Love you, Alex, see you tomorrow," he said on his way out.

And then they were gone, and Alex was alone with Ellie. He closed his eyes and focused on calming his breathing. Focused on the warm weight of the baby in his arms. He caught a whiff of her scent he hadn't noticed before. Baby powder and rain, unmistakably. He buried his nose in Ellie's hair and took a deep breath.

The smell of rain calmed his frayed nerves. He had no idea why he was so on edge. He shook his head and opened his eyes again. He looked around his and Michael's living room and took in every detail.

The large open fireplace in the corner, the comfy looking L-shaped couch by the large, floor-deep windows, the many pictures of Michael and himself, and of their friends and families. The tall Christmas tree next to the fireplace, decorated with wooden ornaments and red accessories, strings of tiny yellow glowing lights woven into the tree.

Michael had helped him put up the baby playpen next to the couch before he'd left for his adventure with Max earlier. Another beautiful piece of furniture Michael had designed and assembled in his workshop.

The playpen was elevated so that Alex could sit next to it on the couch or on a chair and didn't have to drop down to the floor. The playpen was softly padded with colorful cushions Rosa had made for them, and a few soft toys were stored in a wooden box attached at the side. A mobile with little wooden aliens, stars, and UFOs hang from a hook above the playpen.

Ellie gurgled and wriggled around in his arms. He turned her around and looked at her with a soft smile.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart, your Uncle Alex has been very absent-minded today. I'm so happy you're here, though. Let's put a fresh diaper on you, and then we can play, what do you say?"

Ellie cooed and reached for his face with her little hands. He laughed and kissed the tips of her fingers, which got her even more excited. Eloise Manes loved kisses. Just like her Uncle Alex.

Alex carried her over into the guest room where a changing table with all essentials was set up. He turned on the small space heater, put her down on the table, and changed her diapers. Before he put her onesie back on, he blew a few raspberries on her naked belly. She laughed and kicked her legs in delight. Alex was in a great mood when they returned to the living room. He put Ellie in the playpen, and they spent the afternoon playing with the mobile, a soft ball, and of course, Ellie's bunny.

After a while she got restless, though. She didn't like lying on her back or belly for too long. Alex stood up, picked her up, and started walking around the living room with her. She gurgled and "talked" to him excitedly, reaching for anything that grabbed her attention, the Christmas tree in particular.

"No, Ellie, I'm so sorry, but I can't let you play with the tree or the ornaments. But you know what, why don't we call your Uncle Michael and see what he's up to. It's getting dark outside and I want to ask him when he's coming home."

Alex put Ellie on the hip of his good leg and pulled his phone from the back pocket of his jeans. He walked closer to the window and held up the phone in front of himself and Ellie. "Hey Siri, facetime Michael," Alex told the phone and kissed Ellie's had absentmindedly.

Michael answered on the third ring and his scruffy face suddenly filled the screen. He smiled.

"Oh, Ellie's already there. I'm so sorry, Alex, we got held up but we're on our way back now," Michael said before Alex could even say hello.

Ellie tried to reach for the phone and Alex struggled to keep it out of her reach without dropping her. He laughed.

"He's on his way home, Ellie, he'll be here soon and then you can give him a kiss." He put the phone down and hoisted her back up on his hip. He should've sat down on the couch instead of carrying her around while he talked to Michael. Oh well. He grabbed his phone and walked over to the couch.

He sat down; Ellie nestled comfortably in the crook of his elbow. "Are you still there?" he asked.

Michael waved at him. "Of course, darlin'. Still here. On my way home to you. Can't wait to kiss you and my adorable niece!"

Michael smiled warmly at them, and Alex felt like he was in danger of bursting with love for the man. His man. His husband.

Not in his wildest dreams would he ever have imagined that one day, he'd sit here in a house he'd built together with the love of his life he'd been lucky enough to marry two years ago.

"Hey, earth to Alex, are you still there?"

Alex laughed. "Ugh, sorry, this has been an ongoing thing today. So weird. I seem to get lost in thought every now and then. Sorry, what did you say when you'd be home?"

"I didn't say yet, but I think it can't be more than half an hour," Michael replied.

"That's good. Ellie's been looking forward to seeing you all afternoon." Ellie's head perked up at the mention of her name.

"I can hardly believe that. You'd think her alien uncle is her favorite, since she's, y'know, half alien herself. But nope. It's you. She has impeccable taste, I'll admit. You're my favorite, too."

Alex blushed, he honest to god blushed at a sappy wonderful thing his husband said to him. It was good that both his hands were occupied with holding a baby and a phone, it kept him from burying his head in his hands.

"Alright," he said. "About half an hour, good, that's when it's almost time for her dinner. When she's in bed, I want to snuggle up with you on our couch and enjoy an evening in front of the fire."

Michael nodded. "I'm in! Can't wait to tell you about our little adventure."

There was something in the way Michael looked at him through the phone that made Alex wonder, but then Michael turned the phone around and Max in the driver's seat became visible.

"Say hello to your favorite brother-in-law, Max," Alex could hear Michael say.

Max glanced over to Michael's phone and smiled.

"Hi, favorite brother-in-law. How are you and my favorite niece holding up?"

Alex laughed. "So many favorites, but guess what, you're my favorite brother-in-law, too."

Max snorted. "I'm your only brother-in-law, you're cheating."

Alex shrugged. "What, and just because you're the only one, you can't be my favorite? Drive safe, you two. And when you get home, tell Liz and the twins hi. See you tomorrow!"

"I'll tell her. Hope you and Michael will have a wonderful evening tonight. See you tomorrow."

Michael turned the phone back around to himself.

"I can't wait to see you, Alex. I love you. See you in half an hour," Michael said, pursing his lips to make a kissing face.

"I love you, too. I'm waiting for you. We're waiting for you," Alex said in a hushed voice. He dipped the phone a little to show Ellie to Michael. She was blinking tiredly and had jammed her thumb and part of her rabbit's ear into her mouth.

Michael's face softened at the sight of the little girl.

"She's adorable. See you in a bit Alex."

With that the phone screen went black. Alex sent a short text to Isobel and put his phone away. Then he reached for the beautiful blanket (matching the colors of the playpen cushions) Rosa had made for them and pulled it over himself and Ellie. He'd just rest for a bit until Michael came home.

~*~

"What do you think he'll say?" Michael asked when Max stopped the car.

Max turned his head and smiled. "What do you think he'll say? You know him better than I do, and I know what he'll say. Go inside, Michael. Take care of Ellie, then tell him."

Michael reached over and squeezed Max's hand.

"Thanks, Max. You're right. And thanks for coming with me today. Give Liz my best and have a good evening. See you tomorrow at eleven. You're bringing Arturo, right?"

Max shook his head. "No, he's coming with Rosa. Even though we told him several times that he didn't have to prepare food for the breakfast, he insisted on making "a little something". Expect Rosa's tiny car being loaded to the brim with containers with enough food to feed an entire army. He's just so happy to spend Christmas with family, we didn't have the heart to tell him no."

"You won't ever hear me complain about Arturo bringing food. I hate that he's putting in so much work to feed us all, but I also understand that it's important to him. Alex is still making pancakes, though. He even ordered more of the syrup you liked so much the last time," Michael teased.

Max grinned. "He's my favorite brother-in-law for a reason. And now go inside, Michael. I'm very happy for you. See you tomorrow."

Michael nodded and took a deep breath before he opened the car door and got out of the car. He turned around and looked at Max.

"Drive safe. Good night, Max."

"Good night, Michael."

Michael closed the door and Max drove off.

Michael patted his jacket down in search for his keys. He knew he was stalling. He didn't need keys to open the door. He just needed this one additional minute to compose himself before he faced Alex.

Once inside, he shrugged off his coat, toed off his boots, and hung up his hat on the hook by the door. The house was quiet, but he saw light coming from the living room.

On socks, he walked down the hallway and quickly washed his hands in the kitchen. He dried off his hands and went back into the hallway. The door to the living room was ajar. He pushed it open and looked around the corner in search for Alex.

When he spotted him and Ellie asleep on the couch, his heart soared. He entered the room, stepped closer, and looked his fill. Alex looked beautiful in the dim light of the room. His dark hair slightly tousled, his cheeks flushed from the warmth, and the sleepy baby draped across his chest. Michael pulled out his phone and took a photo.

Then he kneeled down next to the couch and softly stroked Alex's cheek. Alex stirred.

"You're back. I've missed you," he mumbled.

"I've missed you, too." He smiled. "Are you good on the couch with her, or would you like me to take over?"

Alex blinked his eyes open and assessed the situation.

"If I'm being honest, I wouldn't mind a bathroom break. Maybe you could take over. On my way back I'll make a bottle for her dinner. I don't think she'll make much of a fuss afterwards and should go to sleep fairly quickly. I defrosted a quiche this morning, I could put that one in the oven and when she's asleep, we'll have that and some wine in front of the fire."

"If I hadn't already married you, I'd ask for your hand in marriage again this very moment. I'm starving, and quiche sounds amazing," Michael exclaimed. He pushed himself up into a standing position, bent down, and gave Alex a lingering kiss.

"Hi, darlin', I love you."

Alex smiled warmly. "I love you, too." He shifted on the couch. "Do you want me to hand her to you, or will you float her over?"

"You can hand her to me, she has to wake up for dinner anyway," Michael said, reaching for Ellie.

Alex lifted her off of his chest and gave her to Michael. She blinked her eyes open and when she saw who it was who took her, she made cooing noises.

"Hello Ellie, my love. Yes, hello. I've missed you, too." He held the baby stable with his telekinesis, while he offered Alex his hand to help him up from the couch. Alex winced when he stood up and carefully stretched his stiff muscles.

Michael's eyes widened when he noticed Alex's sweater. "Oh my god, this is my early Christmas present tonight. My model husband, wearing an "ugly" Christmas sweater. Ellie, have you seen this? Have you seen how handsome Alex looks in his sweater? I mean, he'd give Colin Firth a run for his money any day, but wow, this sweater. I'm in awe."

Alex laughed. "You are silly, and I love you, I really have to go." He kissed Michael on the cheek. "I'll be quick."

Michael nodded and then turned his attention back to Ellie. She looked at him with big, brown eyes, then she smiled. Michael smiled back. "It's so good to see you, sweetheart. You have to tell me about what you and Alex were up to this afternoon."

Ellie made a gurgling sound. "No way," Michael exclaimed. "You read a book together? And played with your bunny? Sounds like you had a very busy day."

Michael continued to hold a rather one-sided conversation with the baby while Alex went to the bathroom.

When he returned to the living room with the warm bottle in one, and a large cotton flannel in his other hand, Michael was slowly dancing through the room, Ellie in his arms, and he sang "Jingle Bells" for her. She loved it and couldn't stop smiling and cooing.

Michael noticed Alex standing in the door and waved him over. As much as he'd loved to continue dancing with her, the bottle would get cold very fast, and if there was one thing Ellie despised, it was lukewarm formula.

"Dinner's served, Miss Ellie," he told the baby. "Where would milady prefer to dine tonight?"

~*~

Once Ellie was fed and asleep in her bed in the guest room, Alex and Michael returned to the living room. Alex opened the baby monitor app on his phone and set it up, then he put his phone down on the table in front of the couch.

When he turned around, Michael was standing in front of the wall where most of their photos were on display. He was looking at one of the framed photos, a picture of Michael, Isobel, and Max, shortly after they'd been found alone in the desert after hatching from their pods.

Alex walked over to Michael and hooked his chin over Michael's shoulder. "What are you looking at?" he asked.

"Oh, it's just this old picture of the three of us. Look how small we were."

Alex smiled. "Yeah, you were around 7 years old, I think. Or at least that's the age they assumed, right?" Michael nodded.

"Yes, 7 years old, and they made the day we were found our birthday on all the legal papers when it became clear that no one would come and claim us. Officially, I turned 7 on the day we hatched."

Alex kissed the shell of Michael's ear. "I'm so sorry that you have no way of finding out when your actual birthday is."

Michael turned around and looked at Alex. "Well, turns out I do, actually. That's why Max and I went on our little adventure today."

Alex's eyes widened. "You found out when you were actually born somewhere in the middle of nowhere, New Mexico? On Christmas Eve? How, Michael?"

Michael took a deep breath. "Not quite, but I think we found something that will give us some much-needed answers. I didn't tell you about this "mission" because I didn't want to stress you. It has to do with—" Michael took another deep breath. "It has to do with Mr. Jones."

Alex's breath hitched. "Michael, that was four years ago. And Jones is dead. Did you resurrect him? Is he in a pod?" Alex's heart beat faster, and he struggled to keep calm. He'd been the one who'd been taken by Mr. Jones. Jones had tortured him and left him for dead.

Michael had found him just in time to save him (with a handprint no less) from certain death. Then he'd organized a hunt for Jones that had ultimately ended with Jones being captured. The man had killed himself swallowing a pill filled with poison.

Kyle, Liz, and Michael had examined the body afterwards to make sure that Jones was really dead. They had buried him. How was it possible that whatever Michael'd been up to today, had to do with Jones?

"Is—Is Jones back?" His voice sounded small to his own ears.

Michael pulled him into a tight hug. "No, oh my god, no. I'm so sorry, Alex, I didn't mean to scare you. I did this all wrong. But please, don't worry. He's not back. What happened today has to do with him, in a way, but I swear, it's good news. Not a single thing to worry about."

Michael rubbed soothing circles into Alex's back, and slowly, Alex managed to relax.

Michael kept stroking his back for a while before he spoke again. "You mentioned earlier that you made quiche. And you mentioned wine. What do you think about getting comfortable, having dinner, and then I'll tell you what happened today?"

Alex nodded. "That sounds good. You should come with me to the bedroom, I have a surprise for you there," Alex mumbled into Michael's shoulder, still clinging to the comforting heat he radiated.

"My, my, our bedroom," Michael said suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows.

Alex chuckled. "Not what you think. Come, let me show you, I've been looking forward to giving you this all day."

He took Michael's hand and lead him to their bedroom. He let Michael enter first and switched on the lights. When Michael saw the Christmas onesies on the bed, he laughed. Then he pulled Alex into his arms again.

"You bought us Christmas onesies? You are incredible and I love you so, so much. I'll just take a quick shower. Would you put the quiche in the oven while I'm in the bathroom? Then we can eat and have a glass of wine by the fire."

Alex nodded. "Alright. Meet you on the couch in 20."

They kissed and parted ways, Michael heading to the bathroom, and Alex to the kitchen.

Twenty minutes later, they sat down on the couch, both wearing the Christmas onesies Alex had ordered for them. The quiche was in the oven and two glasses of red wine were placed on the table in front of them.

Alex had taken off his prosthetic for the day and put on a thermal sock on his left foot. The first sip of wine warmed him from the inside, and he felt finally ready to listen to Michael's story.

Michael ran a hand through his still damp hair. "So, long story short. It all started with Max having some weird dreams about a week ago. Liz and I ran some tests but couldn't find anything unusual. Three nights in a row, he had dreams of a very prominent rock formation. He made a drawing, and after some extensive research, I found it. Like you said, it's in the middle of nowhere, New Mexico. Max couldn't stop thinking about it. We just wanted to take a look at it, see whether we could find anything. Just to make sure that there was no immediate threat." Michael took a deep breath, then nipped from his wine.

"When we arrived near the rock formation," he continued, "we both felt this weird pull. We immediately knew that it was alien related, and after searching the area, we found the entry to a cave."

"You found an alien related cave in the middle of nowhere and investigated without any back-up? Michael, I feel like I'm getting a heart attack just hearing about this, even though you're sitting right in front of me."

Michael pulled Alex into his arms and kissed the top of his head. "I'm so sorry for worrying you, even though there's nothing to worry about. I swear."

Alex sat up again and looked at Michael. "You went into the cave, didn't you?"

Michael had the decency to blush.

Alex clenched his fists. "Michael, how could you?"

Michael looked at Alex, his eyes begging for forgiveness. "I'm sorry, Alex. We just had to make sure that no one was in trouble."

Alex sighed. "Okay, you went inside. What did you find?"

Michael's face lit up at the memory, and yet his eyes teared up a bit. "Alex, we found another pod."

Alex gasped. "Another pod? Michael, what on earth. I mean, not from this earth, obviously. Was there someone inside? Did you free them? Michael?"

A single tear ran down Michael's face: "There's a baby inside the pod Alex. And going by what Max and I were able to decode at the cave, this was Nora's and Tripp's child. A little girl by the looks of it."

Alex gasped when the realization hit him. " Nora and Tripp had a baby? Together? Are you sure?"

Michael nodded. "I'm fairly certain, yes. Alex, that's my sister in that pod, and your aunt. Or great aunt? I don't know, but do you understand what that means, Alex?"

Alex was at a loss and he struggled to think clearly. A baby. In a pod. A baby that was related to Michael, and to himself. A baby that was related to Michael, and to himself!

He felt like crying when he looked at Michael. "Michael, do you mean that—you and I—this baby—," he had to take another deep breath to center himself. "Are you telling me that there's a baby in a pod, a baby that's related to you and me. Are you telling me—Michael, what are you telling me?"

Michael's eyes were shining with unshed tears when he answered. "I think you know what I'm telling you, Alex, don't you? Please, tell me that you understand."

Alex nodded slowly. "You mean that I'll have to look into forging a birth certificate for her, and once everything's set up, and you and Liz have performed more tests, we'll release her from the pod and bring her home and raise her as our daughter. That's what you mean, right?"

Michael burst into tears and laughed at the same time. "That is exactly what I'm mean. Alex, what do you say? I'm sorry that I'm springing this on you, and there's still so many things to think and talk about. And I do want you to have a say in all of this. You don't have to make a decision tonight. And you can say no. I need you to know that. You can say no, and we'll be fine. Please, Alex, you can say no. I love you, no matter what, and I love you more than anything on this planet, or any other planet. I just—"

Michael's rambling was interrupted by Alex, who flung himself at Michael and kissed him harder and more desperate than he'd ever kissed him. Michael kissed back, and suddenly they were both crying and laughing and kissing, tears making their kisses taste salty.

They hugged each other tight and continued to kiss, until they both had calmed down considerably.

Alex took Michael's left hand in his. It was the hand his father had mangled with a hammer a decade and a half ago. The hand Max had healed. The hand, where a golden band around Michael's ring finger was a constant reminder of their endless love. He lifted Michael's hand to his mouth and kissed it. The back of Michael's hand, his fingers, the ring.

Then he looked up to Michael and nodded. "I love you more than life itself, Michael. I know how much you've dreamed about becoming a dad. At the same time, I felt miserable because it was clear, that I'd never be able to give you a biological child." Michael wanted to interrupt him, but Alex shook his head.

"No, Michael, please let me say this. I know that a biological child is not the answer, nor is it the only way to have a family. And I'm fairly certain, that there's one, maybe more, adoptive children in our future. But—there seems to be a child, a little girl, that in the most miraculous and inexplicable ways, is related to both of us. How could I possibly say no to this? I couldn't. I can't. I won't."

Michael's eyes were wide with wonder and wet with fresh, unshed tears, and Alex felt like he'd never loved Michael more than in this very moment. He linked his left hand with Michael's. "I'm in. I'm all in. You. Me. And our— daughter."

~*~

- One year (and one) day later –

Alex sat on the couch and let his eyes wander across their extended living room, taking in the things that were the same as the year before, and taking in the differences. The couch was the same, the fireplace, too. The Christmas tree wasn't the same, but it looked quite similar.

There were several new family pictures up on the wall, though, and their living room had at least doubled in size thanks to the large glass winter garden Michael had built over the summer.

"We have a big and growing family, Alex. When they all come over, we need the space. But even if it's just us, sitting in a winter garden is a great way to sit outside without actually being outside, especially during the colder months."

And indeed, it had become their new favorite room and personal oasis. Alex loved the in-floor heating, Rosa's contributions in the form of colorful throw pillows and a hand-woven tapestry depicting a starry New Mexico night, and Michael with his knack for plants, had turned the winter garden into a lush greenhouse.

Alex heard a noise from the hallway and turned his head, just in time to see Michael enter the room, holding a sleepy baby safe in his arms. Michael and her were both dressed in identically patterned Christmas onesies, matching the one Alex was currently wearing.

Alex's heart grew three sizes taking in the picture of the man he loved, and their daughter, Noreen. He still had to pinch himself sometimes to make sure he wasn't dreaming the whole thing.

But she was theirs. Officially. Had been for little over a month now, and it had been the most blissful time of Alex's life.

They had taken their time after Michael and Max had found the pod. Taken the time to examine it and all the documents they'd found in the cave. As it turned out, the baby had been born mere days before Nora had been captured and brought to Caulfield.

Only a week after the birth, Nora had insisted on putting her in the pod. Just for a little while, until it was safe for her and Tripp to be together. It never came to that, though. Nora had been taken, and when Tripp went to the cave and tried to free their daughter, he couldn't. He didn't know how to, and no matter how hard he'd tried, he'd been unable to get her out.

One day, Mr. Jones had showed up at his doorstep and offered to help. Tripp had been desperate and agreed to show Jones the pod. But Jones betrayed him and kidnapped the pod. He'd had no interest in the baby, he'd just wanted the pod for himself. Jones had also been unable to open the pod, though.

It took Tripp years to find the pod again. When he did, he brought it to the far away cave where Michael and Max had found it. Over the years, he'd gathered documents he managed to steal from Caulfield, schematics Nora had drawn, and a diary she'd written when she was pregnant.

There was a lot about Michael in her diary, about Louise, even Isobel and Max. It was a treasure trove of information and had provided the three siblings with many new details of their respective family's histories.

After Liz and Michael had determined that the baby was well, Alex had started the process of organizing legal documents for her. The official story was, that they got pregnant with the help of a surrogate out of state, and even though Alex and Michael were both eager to start their new family, they let a good nine months pass before they opened the pod.

Nora had programmed the pod in a way that would allow only two people with specific genetic traits to open it – her and Tripp. Since Michael and Alex were direct descendants of them, their handprints on either side of the pod opened it, and they had welcomed Noreen into the world on a sunny November day.

Michael walked over to the couch and sat down next to Alex. They looked down at the child - their child - in awe. She was absolutely perfect.

"I still can't believe that we get to have this, get to have her. Michael, we are so lucky." Alex choked up a little.

Michael wiped away a single tear that was rolling down Alex's cheek. "We really are."

He pulled Alex into his arms and kissed him. "Ready to begin this new chapter of our life when you are, darlin'."

"I've never been more ready for anything in my life, Michael."

[humans4vampires]

Cold Heart

Context: This story was inspired by a tumblr post from tumblr user @cozycullens. The post outlined the potential for sappy holiday content that the original story lacked. The post noted that Twilight fans had to fill in the blanks; I thought it would be fun to write out what Valentine’s Day could have looked like for Edward and Bella. The timeline of this story edits the original canon, meaning the breakup in New Moon and subsequent recoupling happens earlier, allowing the pair to be reunited in time to spend both the Christmas holiday season together and Valentine’s Day. This is before the events are set in motion for the vampire army attack in Eclipse. I’d also like to mention that this story addresses a scene that occurs later in the timeline of the novel. I’ve edited it here to give Edward and Bella a bit of private time that is free of the pressures that the later happenings of Eclipse bring to the moment. In this, I have used direct quotes from Meyer’s novel, and I do not claim to own that content in any way. As stated, this is purely for fun and to share with my fellow Twilight fans.

READ PART TWO HERE

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The dull blue grey light of the morning filtered through my window in a haze, waking me gently from inconsequential dreams. My natural instincts to unfurl myself from my usual swaddle of blankets to reach for him felt empty and unnecessary. Rather, I found myself spread across my bed in a sweaty mess of fabric.

“Edward?” I said softly, propping myself up to take in the room. I blinked quickly and tried to brush the mess of my hair from my face, speaking his name again as a question. There was no reply.

I tried to think back to the night before; I didn’t think he had gone hunting. No, he had surely been with me when I fell asleep. A compilation of Victorian poetry was open face-down on his side of my bed. We made the trip to Seattle a few weeks ago to get the book I needed to get started on my research paper. I had chosen the topic of Tennyson and Rossetti as an ironic gesture toward him – my very own post-Victorian era angel. He was reading his favorites to me, his voice a velvet whisper when I had fallen asleep in his cool embrace.

No, I was sure he had been with me throughout the night. I ran my left palm over the bare sheet beside me and felt the lingering presence of his wintry skin. It was unusual for him to leave before I woke. It was my favorite part of each day, and his. I was wondering what had called him away as I picked up the heavy text to see where he had left off. As I turned the pages to face me, a small piece of paper fluttered into my lap. The note he had left in his elegant script explained his absence.

‘Who are wise in love, love most, say least. Happy Valentine’s Day, love.’

He quoted Tennyson, I was sure, but the poem he had left open was not the same one he referenced. Instead, the book was open to Tennyson’s ‘Crossing the Bar,’ which was certainly not a love poem. I scanned it quickly, trying to garner any meaning from it without success. My mind was racing elsewhere, my heart beating quickly with exultant dread. So he had gone to prepare whatever exorbitant Valentine’s Day surprise he had planned. As fate would have it, this holiday had arrived on a school day and would provide a public audience to witness the surely over-the-top display Edward had planned for me.

Edward’s obsession with making the most of my human experiences had only intensified since reaching our compromise for Carlisle to turn me after my impending high school graduation. Christmas had been a deluge of cheer and merriment thanks to Alice, who was overcompensating for lost time with me – while also, just being Alice. I was still convinced it hadn’t snowed quite as much as she’d wanted and she had somehow managed a snow machine to fill in my yard for Christmas morning. Alice had laughed off my assumptions as absurd, but Charlie was still trying to work out how our yard had had a good three feet more snow than the rest of our neighborhood.

The halls had certainly been decked in Cullen home, too. It had to be visible from space from the sheer amount of Christmas lights neatly hung on every eave and railing. For the entire month of December, the house smelled of fresh gingerbread and pine. Every surface had been transformed with fresh garlands and shiny decorations. The fireplace in the grand living room was constantly crackling a gentle fire, flickering its light against the enormous tree trimmed with ornaments gathered over the many decades of Christmases past. And the gifts – oh – I couldn’t even bring myself to continue the thought.

I was brought back to reality, the sweet valentine in my shaking hand. I took a staggered breath and made a passing glance at the clock as I rushed to the bathroom. I tried not to think about the day ahead as I dressed. Charlie had already left for the station and the rest of my morning at home seemed to move in a blur of anxiety. I stumbled out the door in a black turtleneck, jeans, bean boots, and my mustard yellow coat. I thought my very standard attire might signal Edward to my disinterest in any outlandish public displays of affection. I drove slowly to Forks High School through the rain muddled snow. My truck dredged through the sludge into the parking spot beside the familiar silver Volvo.

The parking lot was already full and busy with the usual Friday commotion. I looked out my rearview mirror to take in the pops of pink and red from the Valentine’s baubles that everyone seemed to be toting. I had always found the holiday rather arbitrary – a well-marketed event to boost the sales of chocolates and flowers. Until my mother had found Phil, Valentine’s Day was usually spent in front of the television with a pint of ice cream, two spoons, and a chick-flick. I was trying to remember the last Valentine’s Day movie my mom and I had watched together when a quick knock on my driver’s side window snapped my eyes from my rearview.

The morning’s panic melted from my bones as I took him in. Edward was standing there, my favorite crooked smile on his lips, a single and perfect red rose held up in his hand.

“Good morning,” he murmured as I opened my door and got to my feet to stand in front of him. “Did you get my Valentine?”

“Mmm,” I hummed. “Tennyson?”

He nodded, a smirk crossing his expression. “Happy Valentine’s Day, love.”

I felt a blush beginning to mark my cheeks and looked down at my feet as he handed me my rose. He moved to rest that now empty hand above my head on the frame of my truck, leaning to tighten the space between us. His free hand swept down my jaw, his gentle fingers stopping below my chin to tilt my head up. He bent down to press his lips to mine, his cool breath sending my delicate humanity into a tailspin. The kiss was, as expected, refined… at first. Unexpectedly, he draped an arm around my body to pull me closer to his frame. He lifted me effortlessly to continue the kiss as my free hand found its way around the base of his neck and into his bronze hair.

When his response became rigid and he began to return my feet to their reluctant ground, I realized I had forgotten to breathe. My legs trembled against the sudden gravity and he steadied me as I took in sharp breaths. He chuckled lightly and shook his head.

“What am I going to do with you?” he teased.

“With any hope, that, again.”

He took a slow step back and smirked, “I do enjoy sweeping you off your feet.”

My head was still spinning as I grabbed my bag from the truck and shut the door behind me. Edward took my right hand as we walked to class, my single rose in the left.

The rest of the day continued on and I was a happy bystander to the couples declaring their love for one another throughout the day. It seemed each period passed with another sudden delivery of roses, large teddy bears, or chocolates. Joyce Lowell in Government received a loud serenade from half of the school’s marching band, her boyfriend, Aaron, the faux-conductor. Each time the door to the classroom opened my heart skipped a beat with the fresh fear that Edward might have some embarrassing demonstration planned. I wasn’t eager to hurt his feelings and so I kept the question from him all day. I had cracked by fifth period when he finally asked, “Why is your heart is thrumming like a hummingbird’s?”

“I’m worried that you have a grand romantic gesture planned,” I took a sharp breath, anxious for his response. My heart rate only increased when he shrugged and walked ahead of me into the classroom.

I was at a loss for words when he chuckled. “Am I not allowed a grand gesture on Valentine’s Day?” Panic rushed through me before he continued in a more serious tone, “Do you honestly believe that my romantic displays are akin to those of someone like Mike Newton?”

His eyes glanced down at the trinkets gathered in my arms. I thought this tradition had been left in elementary school, but it seemed my friends still enjoyed giving each other Valentine’s treats. Jessica and Angela both had given me small paper crafts and chocolates to mark the occasion. Even Tyler and Eric participated, handing out boxes of tiny heart candies.

The only class Edward could not manage to work out to have with me our senior year was math – considering my being in a far lower level than was excusable for him to fail into. This, of course, was the only class I had exclusively with Mike. I had found it funny that it bothered Edward in the slightest; until today, when Mike seized the opportunity to give me a large stuffed bear, a rather huge box of chocolates, and a clearly handmade valentine. All platonically, Mike had assured me, as he was still on-and-off with Jessica and I was still very much Edward’s – only Edward’s.

I shook my head as I fumbled to stack all of my favors onto a pile on my desk, keeping the rose in my hand to tap lightly on the tip of Edward’s nose.

He tilted his brow at my playful gesture. “You have nothing to worry about. I simply have arranged for us to have a night alone. My family have their own Valentine’s Day traditions and we’ll have the house to ourselves. For this one night could we try to forget everything besides just you and me?” he pleaded, unleashing the full force of his eyes on me. “It seems like I can never get enough time like that. I need to be with you. Just you.”

“No,” I shook my head again. “Just you is good.”

The hitch in my tone caught his attention, but he didn’t have a chance to respond. Mr. Banner began lecturing on optics and light. I couldn’t focus on Physics; I could only hear Edward’s methodic voice repeating ‘I need to be with you’ again and again. Each passing thought brought a new blush to my cheeks that I tried to hide behind a curtain of my hair. I was sure he could hear my fluttering heart, but I couldn’t focus on that either. I was entirely clouded with thoughts of him. I stared at his strong hands, folded together in front of him on the table. How I imagined them on my body a million times, his cold fingertips grazing over my bare skin in the places he refused to wander. It was all I could think of the rest of the day.

When I was back in my room, a different blur of anxiety plagued me than when I had left it in the morning. Edward and I went our separate ways after school. He had filled me in on how exactly he had planned to handle the issue of Charlie. My father was still learning to trust me again and another night out of the house was certainly going to come under some heavy interrogation. I was technically still grounded even though Edward had been following Charlie’s very strict rules to a perfect degree. I was sure that Charlie hadn’t missed the fact that it was Valentine’s Day and I could only imagine the things he would think Edward and I would be doing if left alone. I was pressing the subject when Edward said, “Esme spoke with Charlie today and let him know that Carlisle is taking my brothers and I on a long-promised camping trip. You’ll be having a girls’ night with Esme, Alice, and Rosalie, as Charlie knows it. He’s been hoping you’d be spending more time with Alice soon.”

I felt a twinge of guilt for all the lying that had to be done to protect Charlie. This lie was much less to protect him from the perils of life threatening vampire attacks and much more about protecting him from the thought of his teenage daughter being alone with her boyfriend on Valentine’s Day. The guilt subsided when I remembered that I would get to be alone with Edward.

I stood in my room, hands steadying me on my dresser, knees shaking from the anticipation. The mix of emotions kept wracking me in waves. Edward had made it very clear; we could not be together physically until I was changed. My safety, was not something he was willing to jeopardize to satisfy any desire – which, to his credit, was entirely the reason I was alive. It was difficult to argue with Edward on that fact, but it was so incredibly difficult to argue with my own desires, still. And yet, I felt foolish all the same. I was so intensely human. Though he’d told me many times that he felt the same way for me, I knew he couldn’t possibly lust for me the way I did for him. I was able to reason that point logically, but part of me questioned it in this moment. Had he changed his mind?

I knew what was waiting for me at the Cullens’. It hadn’t been much more than a month since the last time I had genuinely spent the night there for a ‘girls’ night.’ Edward didn’t want me anywhere near Jacob and so Edward had been avoiding distant hunting trips to keep a close watch on me. Alice was all too eager to babysit to allow Edward a satiating hunt; it left me free to be played with as if I were her life-sized doll. That wasn’t what I was fixated on now. The image of the intricate wrought-iron bed burned in my mind. The thought of Edward and I wrapped tenderly in its golden threads made me quiver again, a sigh escaping my lips.

A knock at the front door made my heart stutter. I heard Charlie gather himself up off the couch to get the door. I stopped listening and only heard the light murmur of greetings as I rushed to find something appropriate to wear. What kind of outfit were you supposed to put together to seduce your vampire boyfriend? I was clashing hangers together across the pole, a bit frantic, when I heard her behind me.

Alice shook her head. “You look like you need to sit down. Let me handle this,” she said.

I decided it was better not to argue with her. I was, in all fairness, a mess, and there was only so much harm she could do with my own wardrobe to work with. She confidently pulled my small duffle from the top shelf of my closet and began packing things without truly looking at them. She had already seen what she would need.

I was sitting in my rocking chair when she looked back to me, still absently packing my bag. She looked like she was waiting for me to say something, but I swallowed uncomfortably rather than working up the nerve to talk.

She cast me a sympathetic smile as she removed something from my closet and tossed it toward me. “Try this,” she said.

I stood to change into the hyacinth blue sweater Alice had given it to me as a Christmas gift. Unlike many of the other fashion pieces Alice had tried to dress me in, I did like it. It was soft, probably a thin cashmere, with a plunging V neckline. It fit my frame tightly and was flattering in a way that I couldn’t justify being embarrassed by. She moved to my dresser then, digging through the very bottom drawer to pull out a short skirt she had also gifted me that I was not particularly fond of. Before I could argue, she slung it onto the bed.

“Work with me here, Bella,” she said sternly.

I pulled on the black skirt without a fight. Alice finished off my outfit with a pair of expensive black leather boots.

“And those were a gift from Esme, before you think of disputing them,” she lectured.

“No, I like them. At least they’re covering more of my skin,” I said, zipping them up.

Alice peaked her eyebrows, a smirk budding on her face as she closed my bag. I felt the rush of blood on my complexion again. “Alice – “

“Come on, let’s go before you lose it,” she said quickly, pulling my hand and leading me out of my room and down the stairs.

Charlie didn’t bother looking away from the television as we called a quick goodbye to him. Alice carried me through the slush in a movement so brief that I had no time to process it, placing me in the passenger seat of her small yellow Porsche. Forks blurred outside the windows and in the darkness of the car, it was easier for me to talk about what I was getting myself into.

“Does he…” I asked in her direction, not finishing the thought.

“I don’t think I should really say anything, Bella.” She answered, plainly.

“Since when do you keep things to yourself, Alice?”

She chuckled quietly, “Whatever I say now is not going to help. I’m just dropping you off. You’re not the only one with Valentine’s Day plans, you know.”

“That’s not fair,” I complained. “He’s seen whatever you’ve seen. He’s not going into this blind like I am.”

“Oh, yes he is,” she said proudly. “I’ve been careful to stay away from him today – and it’s not quite clear what’s going to happen. You’ve only been growing bolder in the last few hours.”

Bolder? I certainly didn’t feel it. In the light of the dashboard, I saw Alice turn to me as the car began to slow. We were already in the driveway. When the car stopped, I felt a quick breeze from the opening and closing of her door. She had slung my bag over her shoulder quickly before arriving at my door to help me to the porch steps. I doubted even Alice thought I was that uncoordinated to walk a few feet without falling; she was carrying me everywhere to keep the boots safe, I thought. She set me down on the porch and walked ahead of me into the house. I followed her in, confused.

“I thought you said you were just dropping me off?”

                  We were in the living room when she said, “I am. Edward isn’t here yet. He had an errand to run. He’ll be here soon and we’ll be gone – don’t worry.”

                  A fresh blush met my cheeks as I locked eyes with the another set in the room. Rosalie was perched on the edge of the sofa, bent over the coffee table arranging what looked like a large photo album. She had small papers and photos scattered all over the table, some in small piles on the floor beside her. She gazed up at me with the come-to-be-expected level of enthusiasm I generally received, but there was a hint of something else in her expression. It caught me by surprise and left me gawking at her silently. Rosalie’s appearance always struck me, but tonight she was especially beautiful. Her tight satin dress was just the perfect shade of red to compliment her equally satin skin, her golden hair a perfect, elegant twist, and her long bare legs crossed in front of her were only further elongated by her strappy, red stilettos. Alice had done her best with me, but I felt myself self-consciously tug at the hem of my skirt.

                  That inexplicable look that I had caught in Rosalie’s expression seemed to grow stronger as she gauged my assessment of her. A small smile crossed her lips as she looked back to what she was working on and I looked to Alice, who was dancing back down the stairs now. I hadn’t noticed her departure, but she was already redressed in an ensemble that mirrored the glamour of Rosalie’s. Alice bent one leg up behind her, fastening the tiny buckle on the strap of her heel, careful not to bend and crease the fabric on her burgundy slip-dress.

“Alright, Rose. Let’s not keep them waiting any longer.” Alice rolled her eyes at me quickly before Rosalie noticed. Alice had her keys in her tiny hands as she walked my direction to head for the door.

“I will see you tomorrow,” she said with a coy grin.

Rosalie was out the door faster than I could follow. I turned to Alice as she moved at a more mortal pace. “Where are you going?” I asked.

Alice waved as she replied, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Bella!” The door was shut behind her then. I heard the muffled roar of her Porsche as she and Rosalie left me behind. I assumed that I was completely alone then. I was curious to know where they were going, but my mind was busy calculating other worries. I stood in the Cullens’ living room, taking in the sheer silence. The only sound was coming from the low burning fire still crackling dimly in the fireplace. I unlocked my tense limbs to move toward the heat. I stopped briefly to survey Rosalie’s project and flipped through a couple of pages on the bound album.

Were these all valentines? I picked up a few loose papers from the table and skimmed them quickly. It seemed that Rosalie had been collecting notes from her admirers for decades, compiling the highlights in an album with cards dating back to 1929. Some of the earlier letters were from when she was still human, if I wasn’t mistaken. A few authors were brave enough to sign their names, but most were anonymous confessions. I spent more time snooping through Rosalie’s valentines than I should have, but part of me thought that she must have wanted me to see them. Why else would she have left them all here?

I focused myself again and took a seat on the edge of the hearth.

                  I was glad I had a moment to gather myself and took the opportunity to take a few deep, but unsteady, breaths. Why was I so unnerved? I closed my eyes and tried to summon my buried fantasies of Edward. There I let myself imagine him, pulling me tightly to his chest, letting his lips roam my jaw, my neck, and the dips of my collarbones. What would he look like bare? I’d only been able to guess the parts of him that were always just beyond my reach. I let those thoughts in too, imagining my own fingers tracing patterns around the curves of his muscles. To bring him close to me, skin to skin – the thought alone painted my face in a soft blush. I bit my lip, letting go a full breath I had been holding. I opened my eyes then and immediately found him.

He was standing across the room from me, a statue of indescribable, sculpted beauty, leaning on the wall casually. He had a peaceful expression resting in his features, but his bright golden eyes were burning with something I couldn’t explain. My favorite crooked smile slowly crossed his lips as his eyes seemed to search my body. I blushed more deeply, a decision forming more firmly in my mind.

I loved him, purely, and every ounce of my body and soul ached to be his. It was exactly the reason I had asked him to change me himself. I wanted his venom to alter me permanently, his lips on my skin to be the last human sensation I’d ever feel. I wanted to be tangibly his, forever; for Edward to lay claim to me in an absolute and eternal way. If I was his, then he was mine. This desire burned in me more brightly in this moment than it ever had. But there were other human sensations I ached for now. And suddenly, I was sure I was not willing to sacrifice them.

Edward moved slowly across the room to perch in front of me. The height of the hearth and his tall body in a crouch before me, leveled us to be equally face-to-face. As he bent, he balanced a small, thin velvet box on my knees. I made no move to open it, so he chuckled lightly and opened it to reveal a small glittering heart-shaped charm. Even in the dim firelight, the brilliant crystal’s intricate cuts glinted countless sparkling rays of color. It was hung on a silver chain as thin as thread.

He was the first to break the silence.

“It was my mother’s.” He shrugged deprecatingly. “I inherited quite a few baubles like this. I’ve given some to Esme, Alice, and Rosalie throughout the years. So, clearly, this is not a big deal in any way.” I could feel his eyes on me, but I continued to stare down, not quite ready to speak. “A hand-me-down,” he reminded me sternly. “You said that was allowable.”

“I guess I did say that,” I said in a whisper.

He chuckled at my reluctance. “I thought it was a good representation,” he continued. “It’s hard and cold.” He laughed. “And it throws rainbows in the sunlight.”

“You forgot the most important similarity,” I murmured. “It’s beautiful.”

“My heart is just as silent,” he mused. “And it, too, is yours.”

I offered the box to him and moved to gather my hair away from my neck, turning to the fire. As he moved to clasp the chain around my neck, I said, “Thank you for both.”

His fingers seemed to linger on the skin of my throat as I turned back to face him. Our lips were only inches apart now. I moved my hands to wrap them around his neck.

“No, thank you. It’s a relief to have you accept a gift so easily. Good practice for you, too.” He grinned, flashing his teeth.                   His eyes wandered down to take pride in his accepted gift. I was grateful for the plunging neckline of my sweater when his gaze lingered where the crystal charm hung delicately above my chest. I made a mental note to thank Alice later and took a steadying breath. I began to feel cautiously optimistic. Perhaps getting what I wanted would not be as difficult as I’d expected it to be.

No, of course it was going to be just exactly that difficult. I cleared my throat lightly and braced myself. “Can we discuss something?” I asked. “I’d appreciate it if you could begin by being open-minded.”

He hesitated for a moment and returned his eyes to mine. “I’ll give it my best effort,” he agreed, cautious now. He unwrapped my arms from around his neck as he moved to put space between us.

“I’m not breaking any rules here,” I promised. “This is strictly about you and me.”

“Listen to your heart fly,” he murmured. “It’s fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings,” he repeated the analogy he had applied to me earlier in the day. “Are you all right?”

“I’m great,” I said formally. I wondered why I was being so formal.

“Please go on then,” he encouraged.

“Well, I guess, first, I wanted to talk to you about that whole ridiculous marriage condition.”

“It’s only ridiculous to you. What about it?” He was backing further away from me now.

I leaned closer to him, placing my hands on his knees to keep him near me. “I was wondering… is that open to negotiation?”

Edward frowned, serious now. “I’ve already made the largest concession by far and away – I’ve agreed to take your life against my better judgment. And that ought to entitle me to a few compromises on your part.”

“No.” I shook my head, focusing on keeping my face composed. “That part’s a done deal. We’re not discussing that now. I want to hammer out some other details.”

He looked at me suspiciously. “Which details do you mean exactly?”

I hesitated. “Let’s clarify your prerequisites first – matrimony?” I made it sound like a dirty word.

“Yes.” He smiled a wide smile. “To start with.”

The shock spoiled my carefully composed expression. “There’s more?”

“Well,” he said, his face calculating. “If you’re my wife, then what’s mine is yours… So there would be no issue with Dartmouth tuition.”

“Anything else? While you’re already being absurd?”

“Time. I’m finding it quite ephemeral… like it’s slipping through my fingers,” as he spoke, he rose his finger tips to sweep a gentle line over my exposed collarbones.

I shook my head, trying to forget his distracting touch. “No. No time. That’s a deal breaker.”

He sighed longingly. “Just a year or two?”

I refused to give into his burning amber eyes. “What else?”

“That’s it. Unless you’d like to talk cars…”

He grinned widely when I grimaced, then took my hand and began playing with my fingers. “I didn’t realize there was anything else you wanted besides being transformed into a monster yourself. I’m extremely curious.” His voice was low and soft. The slight edge would have been hard to detect if I hadn’t known it so well.

I paused, staring at his hand on mine. I still didn’t know how to begin. I felt his eyes watching me and I was afraid to look up. The blood began to burn in my face.

His cool hand cupped my cheek. “You’re blushing?” he asked in surprise. I kept my eyes down. “Please, Bella, the suspense is painful.”

I bit my lip.

“Bella.” His tone reproached me now, reminding me that it was hard for him when I kept my thoughts to myself.

“Edward,” I said, nervous, staring at a freckle on my wrist. “There’s something that I want to do before I’m not human anymore.”

He waited for me to continue. I didn’t. My face was hot.

“Whatever you want,” he encouraged, anxious and completely clueless.

“Do you promise?” I muttered, knowing my attempt to trap him with his words was not going to work. But he was unable to resist my coaxing.

“Yes,” he said. I looked up through my lashes to see that his eyes were earnest and confused. “Tell me what you want, and you can have it.”

I couldn’t believe how awkward and idiotic I felt. I was too innocent. I didn’t have the faintest idea how to be seductive. I would just have to settle for flushed and self-conscious.

“You,” I mumbled almost incoherently.

“I’m yours.” He smiled, still oblivious, trying to hold my gaze as I looked away again.

I took a deep breath and leaned closer to him, pressing my lips to his. He kissed me back, bewildered but willing, his lips gentle against mine. I began to slide my hands from his knees, up his thighs and slowly toward his waist. I hadn’t gotten very far when I all but heard the click in his head as he put together my words and my actions, his lips freezing in place.

He pushed me away at once, his face heavily disapproving.

“Be reasonable, Bella.”

“Edward, I –. “ He had cut me off, placing a single finger over my lips to quiet me.

“No.” His face was hard.

I was surprised by my reaction to his dismissal. I raised my hand to swat at his. My action didn’t move him, of course, but he moved his hand from my mouth in response. “You are not going to shush me,” I said sternly. “We’re here discussing terms of an eternity together – marriage and other promises – but sex?” I said the word louder than the rest. “Edward, why can’t we talk about sex?”

He was frozen there, hands at his side, eyes locked on mine. I felt the charge of adrenaline passing quicker than it had come. We sat there for a moment in silence with only my quick breathing and rapid pulse as audio. I shifted my gaze down as the rush subsided. It took me a minute to recognize why I was staring at my freckle again, the blush returning – why my stomach felt uneasy, why there was too much moisture in my eyes, why I suddenly wanted to run from the room.

Rejection washed through me, instinctive and strong.

I knew it was irrational. He’d been very clear on other occasions that my safety was the only factor. Yet I’d never made myself quite so vulnerable before. It was hard to beg for the mercy of an angel.

Edward moved then, bringing his hand up to my chin to pull my face up until I had to look at him again. He scrutinized my face for a long moment while I tried unsuccessfully to twist away from his gaze. His brow furrowed, and his expression became horrified as I continued to fight off the onslaught of water in my eyes.

His other hand rushed to my cheek, his thumb stroking there reassuringly. “You know why I have to say no,” he murmured. “You know that I want you, too.”

“Do you?” I whispered, my voice full of accusation and doubt.

He held my face at my jaw now, his fingers on my neck at the base of my hair. “Of course I do, you beautiful, oversensitive girl.” He laughed once, and then his voice was bleak. “Doesn’t everyone? I feel like there’s a line behind me, jockeying for position, waiting for me to make a big enough mistake… You’re too desirable for your own good.”

It seemed like he wanted to press on, anxiety flooding him as it had me throughout the day. I took a breath.

“Tell me if I have anything wrong,” I tried to sound detached. “Your demands are marriage, college, more time, and a faster car.”

“Only the first is a demand,” he said taking a breath. “The others are merely requests.”

“And my lone, solitary demand is – “

“Demand?” he interrupted, on edge again.

“Yes, demand.” I said confidently, looping my fingers around his wrists and tugging until he dropped them. I was not going to concede, now that I knew he wanted this as badly as I did. I would have to be brave for the both of us. I kept my gaze locked on his, placing a hand on his chest to request more space between us.

Edward immediately responded, backing up slightly and resting on his knees with room in front of him. Without breaking the contact we had, I slid down so that we were both on our knees. I brought both hands to the collar of his shirt and began to unbutton slowly, never moving my eyes from his.

“Please,” I begged. “There is nothing I want more than you.”

He took a deep breath. I was surprised that it sounded a little unsteady.

“I could kill you,” he whispered.

I had the last button undone then and slid the fabric from his shoulders to the floor. I was gliding my hands down his chest and placing my lips over his heart when I murmured against his skin. “I don’t think you could.”

As I kissed him there, a low sound escaped his lips. A moan? My body ached in a way it never had. I felt electrified. My heart jolted, words tumbling out of my mouth to take advantage of the sudden uncertainty in his eyes. “Please, try,” I pleaded.

His hands were wrapped around my biceps then, his head bent down to bring his lips to my ear, making me shiver. “This is unbearable. So many things I’ve wanted to give you – and this is what you demand. Do you have any idea how painful it is, refusing you when you plead with me this way?”

“Then don’t refuse,” I suggested breathlessly.

He didn’t respond. I tossed my head back to catch my breath, letting my hair fall down behind me. Edward’s hands still held my arms firmly. “Please,” I tried again.

He bent his head to my neck. “Bella…” He shook his head slowly, but it didn’t feel like denial as his face, his lips, moved back and forth across my throat. It felt more like surrender. My heart sputtered frantically when his lips finally stopped to embrace my skin. The same low sound spilled from my lips now, which seemed to hit Edward with the same electrical shock.

His grip tensed instantly and I was sure he was going to push me away again.

I was wrong.

His lips were on mine, his hands pulling me up to close the space between us. His mouth was not gentle; there was a brand-new edge of conflict and desperation in the way his lips moved. When his hands moved into my hair, I locked my arms around his neck, tightening my hold on him. To my suddenly overheated skin, his body felt colder than ever. I trembled, but it was not from the chill.

He didn’t stop kissing me. I was the one who had to break away, gasping for air. Even then his lips did not leave my skin, they just moved to my throat. So quickly that I wasn’t even sure how it happened, I was in his arms, his lips still exploring my skin, as we nearly flew through the house. Human velocity was not fast enough for him. We were in his bedroom then, still locked in each other’s arms as he fell onto his back on the bed.

The thrill of victory was a strange high; it made me feel powerful. Brave. My hands weren’t unsteady now and my fingers traced the patterns I had dreamed of a thousand times. He was too beautiful. What was the word he had used? Unbearable – that was it. His beauty was too much to bear…

I was on top of him, our lips pulled together again and moving in heated sync. Edward’s hands were exploring my body. His hands were tight around my waist, straining me closer to him. All I wanted was my skin to be bare against his – his grip made it difficult to reach to remove my sweater, but not impossible. Just as I had my stomach exposed, cold iron fetters locked around my wrists, and pulled my hands above my head, which was suddenly on a pillow.

His lips were at my ear again. “Bella,” he murmured, his voice warm and velvet. “Stop trying to take your clothes off.”

“Do you want to do that part?” I asked breathlessly.

“Not tonight,” he answered softly. His lips were slower now against my cheek and jaw, all the urgency gone.

“Edward, don’t –,” I started to argue, trying to free my hands and arching my body to mold myself more closely to him.

“I’m not saying no,” he reassured me. “I’m just saying not tonight.”

I had never felt frustration this way before. I was restless, eyes wild and questioning on his.

“I wasn’t born yesterday,” he laughed. “Out of the two of us, which do you think is more unwilling to give the other what they want? You just promised to marry me before you do any changing, but if I give in tonight, what guarantee do I have that you won’t go running off to Carlisle in the morning? I am – clearly – much less reluctant to give you what you want. Therefore… you first.”

I exhaled with a loud huff. “I have to marry you first?” I asked in disbelief.

“That’s the deal – take it or leave it. A compromise.” Edward pressed himself to me, urging me to accept his terms. His arms wrapped around me, and he began kissing me in a way that should be illegal. Too persuasive – it was duress, coercion. I tried to keep a clear head… and failed quickly and absolutely.

“How did this happen?” I moaned, and not in a good way. “I thought I was holding my own tonight – for once – and now, all of a sudden – “

“You’re engaged,” he finished.

“Edward, no.” I objected.

“Are you going back on your word?” he demanded. He pulled back to read my face. His expression was entertained. He was having fun.

I glared at him, trying to ignore the way his smile made my heart react.

“Are you?” he pressed.

“No,” I groaned. “No. I’m not. I just need time to think. I can’t think right now – give me some time to think.”

He kissed me again quickly. Another too persuasive kiss.

“Take all the time you need.”

He kissed me another time. “Do you get the feeling that everything is backward?” he laughed. “Traditionally, shouldn’t you be arguing my side, and I yours?”

“There isn’t much that’s traditional about you and me.”

Neither of us would surrender in this moment – that was clear. But there were compromises that were pending on the horizon. And, if nothing, I had this night to service my fantasies for awhile. I bit my lip and chuckled.

“I’m curious,” I sighed. “What exactly did you have planned for tonight?”

He didn’t answer. Instead he was up and out of the bed, a hand extended toward me.

I let out my last sigh of contest and threw my hands down on the bed to heave myself up. Edward laughed to himself as I slid to the edge of the bed and stood. I fidgeted in my sweater and straightened my skirt as I walked toward him. I took his hand and noticed him taking in my figure again.

I raised a brow. “Did you want to get back in bed?”

Edward chuckled again, shaking his head. “No, but please do remind me to thank Alice in the morning.”

I rolled my eyes as he led me from his bedroom and into the rest of our romantic evening alone.

PART TWO

 ____

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Twilight Saga world, which is trademarked by Stephenie Meyer and Little Brown Books. All characters referenced are owned by Stephenie Meyer, and I do not claim any ownership over them or the Twilight Saga. The story told here is of my own invention. This story is for entertainment only – fun – and is not part of the official story line. I am grateful to Stephenie Meyer for the creation of these characters and I in no way am profiting from the creation and publication of this story. Some lines are directly quoted from Meyer’s book, Eclipse, and I do not claim to own Meyer’s words.

References:

Meyer, Stephenie. Eclipse. Little, Brown, 2013.

Tennyson, Alfred Tennyson, and W. E. Williams. Tennyson: Poems. Penguin, 1985.

[me-and-your-husband]

Honey, I’m Home (Part 2)

Summary: After Steve went on the run from the government after the events of civil war, you await the day you can see him and your daughter again. When that day comes, a new hope s found.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, Dad!Steve Rogers, Mom!Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, bearded steve

Word Count: 2.1k

Part 1

Sam opened the back door of the black Cadillac Escalade for me to take a seat inside. I did so as Bucky took his place in the passenger’s seat. When Sam got in, he started the car, put his seatbelt on, and put the car into drive. We sat in silence for a few moments, before I finally spoke up, the empty noise becoming too much to avoid.

“Where are we going?” I questioned as Sam’s eyes briefly met mine in the rearview mirror. Bucky drew a deep breath and huffed it out.

“After what happened at the airport, we brought Jane to a safehouse in Germany. After everything transpired and Steve broke the rest of the team out of custody, we all became fugitives. We’ve been on the run for the past year and a half,” Bucky clarified.

“Steve and Jane are in another safe house in the Canadian Rockies with the rest of the team that were on his side,” Sam added. I hummed in understanding and turned my face to look out the window.

Soon after, we were boarding a plane, using fake passports, of course. Once the plane successfully took off, Bucky put on a set of headphones and Sam nodded off. I noticed a small pad of paper and a pen in the seat pouch in front of me, and so I took it out and began sketching. My hand danced around the rough paper, crossing over lines and margins. I sketched from memory, and from what I remembered my daughter to look like.

I stared down at the completed sketch, coming out quite like the way I remembered three-year-old Jane. It was not as smooth and professional as Steve’s sketches, but you could still be impressed by it. My eyes started to fill with tears, the realization finally hitting me like a tsunami hits a small island.

I was finally going to see my family. After all this waiting, suffering, I was finally going to run my fingers through my daughter’s hair and tell her it was going to be alright. I was finally going to kiss my husband goodnight after a day of playing games at the beach and having a family picnic. I was finally going to have back the life that I missed so dearly.

I let a few tears make their way down my cheeks, before wiping them discreetly with the back of my hand. I looked to my right to see Bucky slipping his headphones off, a loft jazz tune revealing what he was listening to. Steve listened to the same type of music. It reminded him of a time when things were not so complicated.

“She looks almost identical to you, now,” Bucky said, staring down at the drawing on my lap. “She still has Steve’s blue eyes and blonde hair, but if not those then she would be your twin,” Bucky said as a smile crept onto my face, just imagining her. My five-year -old girl. My five-year-old girl. So much time has passed.

    I sit in silence and can’t help but wonder to myself the worst. What if she doesn’t remember me? She will. She has to, right? I’m her mother, there’s some type of bond there where you just, know, right?

My overthinking is interrupted by the flight attendant letting us know we’re landing over the intercom.

               When we land, I get out and am immediately glad I decided to wear a jacket. I never really believed people when they said that Canada was that cold, until now. I rubbed my hands up and down my arms, trying to create some friction induced heat, but that did little. Luckily, Sam packed accordingly.

“Here, put these on over your clothes,” he said as he handed me a fluffy parka, a pair of sweatpants, a weird beanie (which I would later find out they called “toques” in Canada), some mittens, and winter boots.

“People actually live in the cold like this?” I queried, to which both Sam and Bucky chortled.

“Yeah, I guess so. I mean, we’ve been doing it for the past couple of months,” Sam stated.

“You think this is cold? Try spending a winter in Saskatchewan, Jesus, it’s got nothin’ on Alberta,” Bucky added.

“Is that where we are?” I questioned, and Bucky confirmed it with a hum.

Sam led us to another car, this time it was a black Dodge Ram. I guess if we were going to the mountains, we would need a heavy-duty vehicle, one meant to trek mountains.

I stepped up onto the foot rail, and hoisted myself in. We fastened our seatbelts, and I managed to read the time over Sam’s shoulder; 4:39 PM. It was already getting dark, a behavior I assume was regular during Canadian winters.

Sooner than later, my head fell against my chest as I slept a bittersweet sleep, thankful for the rest, as it would pass the time and bring me closer to seeing my family, but also not wanting to miss a single second of the journey to my imagination.

 When I awoke, it was to Bucky shaking me lightly and whispering my name. I blinked back the sleep, and drowsily climbed out of the truck. I took in my surroundings. It was pitch black outside, but it only felt like nine or ten. I spun around, to see a huge, cozy looking hotel with trees and snow surrounding it. My mouth hung agape as Sam and Bucky ushered me into the hotel.

Sam checked us in for a one night’s stay, and as much as I wanted to see my family, the sooner the better, I knew that not Sam nor Bucky were accustomed to drive through the snow in the dark.

Bucky and Sam ended up sharing a bed, whilst they insisted upon me having the other one to myself. They made it out to be them just being courteous, but I really think they knew Steve would destroy them for sleeping in the same bed as his best girl.

               The morning consisted of a quick pot of coffee to wake us up, and then we were right back on the road, Bucky driving this time. Casual conversations were made, just them asking me what I have been up to for the past while. Nothing much had happened, but I didn’t want to seem like a bore, so I only told them the interesting bits.

               Soon, we were in the mountains, occasionally stopping for gas and snacks at random pitstops. I couldn’t help but feel like a little kid on a road trip, constantly wanting to ask, “are we there yet?” or “are we almost there? How much longer?”. Eventually, Sam announced that we would be there in about five minutes, which really grabbed my attention.

“By the way, he doesn’t know you’re coming,” Sam said, which barely fazed me, as I was too excited. My leg bounced up and down like a giddy teenager during an exam, and I could feel my heart beating in my throat.

          In a short amount of time, we pulled onto a gravel road, which had recently been neatly shoveled. It weaved through a thick forest, sometimes catching deer in the headlights. The path was shadowy and was barely lit, considering the trees looming over us blocking the sun. The rocky sound of driving across gravel and freshly packed snow filled our ears as we made our way down the trail.

         Soon enough, which felt too long even in itself, we came to a clearing. In the middle of that clearing, was a huge, three story log cabin, with multiple vehicles, varying size, type, model, year, color, and brand, scattered around the lot. Before my jaw could fall off its hinges, a familiar female giggle caught my attention. I turned my head to look through the window, to where I saw Wanda and Vision having a snowball fight. I guess Vision must have reconciled with Wanda, and realized that our side was the right to be on.

      The truck pulled up to the front of the house, and I slowly, as if mesmerized, took of my seatbelt. Wanda and Vision greeted Bucky and Sam, and they froze when they seen me. I gave them both a small wave and a smile as my feet hit the soft snow, and I may have come across as rude for not greeting them properly, but that could be saved for later. I turned my head to Sam, who quickly understood what I was getting at.

“Inside,” He stated, gesturing towards the big double doors of the manor. My heart skipped a beat as I clambered up the few steps leading to the porch and grasped the wood door handles. I took a breath in and swung the doors open. My eyes wandered the wood interior, before getting caught in a movement at the other end of the hall. I sprinted to where I saw that movement, and looked to my left, where some type of bedroom was located.

       Clint sat on the bed, holding a framed photo of his wife and kids. Before he could see me, I made my way back down the hall, and started frantically running around the maze of a place, trying to find my family. It was around noon, so it was very likely that they could be in the kitchen, eating.

      When I finally reached the huge kitchen, nobody was to be found. I let out a small sigh, but before I turned to walk out, I heard a voice coming from the next room over.

“Okay, Janie! Ready or not, here I come!” said that voice I knew all too well. Butterflies erupted in my stomach as I took fast steps to the entrance of that room, the living room.

        Standing beside the fireplace, was Steve Rogers, but he was different. His back faced me, but I could still see him in the mirror above the fireplace. He had a harder look to him, but those soft eyes I always adored were still there.  He had grown out his hair, and now had a nicely trimmed beard. I took a sharp breath in, which must have alerted him that someone was there. He always joked about me being the only one who could sneak up on him.

       His eyes met mine in the mirror, and his clenched jaw softened. He slowly lifted his head and spun around to face me. My breaths were shaky as he slowly took a step towards me.

“God, please tell me it’s you, Y/N, because I think if I have to convince myself that I’m seeing you one more time, I’ll go crazy,” He pleaded, his brows knit together.

“Yes,” I said, my voice cracking as my vision started to blur with tears. “It’s me, I promise you it’s me,” I said, as I ran towards him, immediately wrapping his arms around me and pressing his nose into the crook of my neck. I inhaled a long, sharp breath through my nose, missing the way he smelled, as well as the way he felt, the way his voice sounded in the morning, the way looked as his muscles flexed under his shirt when he was working out, and the way his lips tasted on mine. After I felt my tears had permanently stained his gray Henley, I pulled away. His blue eyes were so easy to get lost in, but the overwhelming need to kiss him, to feel him again, outweighed anything else in that moment. Our lips were together in an instant, in a passionate kiss. My hands rested at the back of his neck, and his on my cheeks, his body heat instantly warming me up from the chilly climate of Alberta. After we both pulled away for a breath, he rested his head against mine. I ran a hand down his beard clad cheek, and scratched it gently, to relay that I liked it, which elicited a smile from him.

“I missed you,” he whispered.

“I-“

“Daddy! What are you doing, are we still playing hide and seek?” said a little girl’s voice. My breath caught in my throat. Steve looked over my shoulder, and back to my eyes. He gave me a knowing look, and I slowly turned on my heels.

“Mommy?”

“Baby…”

“Mommy!” Jane screamed as she dropped her stuffed rabbit and sprinted towards me. I fell to my knees and held my arms open for her. I held her in my arms like that, like the day she was born, for what felt like forever. I don’t even remember exactly when Steve wrapped his arms around us. Silent cries and sniffles could be heard coming from either one of us.

Finally, I was where I should be, home.

Thank you guys so much for the support on the first part :)

Would you guys want an epilogue?