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beyondtheciouds · 3 years

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Part 29. 3 of 3

Twas the night before Yulemas and all through the house not a creature was stirring except for a small brown mouse.

The children were all snug tight in their beds. Smiles on their faces as dreams of sugared plums danced in their heads.

Outside, the snow fell in droves and filled the streets, impassible for cars and carriages. The windows were frosted; icles hanging like glittering packages.

The brick and mortar chimnies chain smoked; pairs of lungs coughing ashes.

Dust saturated the fresh snowflakes on snowcapped rooftops; heavy as Lucie's lashes.

The moon was nearly full; the fringe of dawn barely a heartbeat. Lucie didn't hesitate getting out of bed when she suspected Henry and Charlotte were fast asleep.

Her secret plans were already in motion; she was in far too deep.

Tonight Lucie and Grace would wake the one lost in an eternal sleep. The anticipation ran through her bones; sidewinding up her veins like an ivy on a chase.

The candles on the Yulemas tree were long snuffed out; the yuletide log smoldering in the fireplace.

The only sound downstairs was the incessant scratching inside the walls. A mouse was hunting about, searching the halls.

The manor was festive; the decor just right. Charlotte had decorated in odd bright colors; glitter and gold balls. A sight to behold, a treasure left scandously untold.

Mugs of cold, sugared tea and burnt biscuits were dutifully set out by Matthew's sisters in hopes of toys being brought.

They were antsy and fought before bedtime. That is, until Lucie sang them a sweet rhyme.

Earlier, Lucie had been filled with warmth as Henry played carols on the pinafore and the girls sang loudly and off key.

She had spent the evening after supper with Cordelia and Charlotte, knitting sweaters for the three.

Now she felt bitter and upset, but the night wasn't over. No, not yet.

The conversations had flowed so easily between the women in the hours before. Lucie had almost forgot the other demands; the baby she tried to ignore.

But the truth was, she was happy to be doing something productive with her hands.

Lucie enjoyed the conversations even if listening to Charlotte was quite the chore.

Tomorrow was Yulemas but Lucie could not have felt less festive.

Yes, the girl Herondale had become rather quite obsessive.

A solid glance over her shoulder gave her courage in the dark. Cordelia was fast asleep on the opposite bed, stiff like chalk.

Lucie stilled, thinking she heard Oscar bark.

Cordelia's back was turned to Lucie; the long braid resting against the comforter like a serpent.

Cordelia was the only one who wouldn't help and the lack of support streamlined Lucie's determination like a torrent.

Lucie felt guilty, like a sneaky child as she opened her door. She crept out into the candle-lit hall ignorant of the consequences her actions might cause.

A familar frown pressed her lips as she closed the door and paused.

For weeks a string tugged at her, knowing that her freedom was slipping through her finger. Each free moment was ready to disappear; the life with a drinker.

Everything seemed doomed; so unfair.

Selfishly, she assumed tonight was only a prelude to the tired life she would soon have living in the walls of Fairchild Manor or worse: Matthew's downtown London flat.

For hours, Lucie had tried to sleep after adjusting the ribbons on an old hat.

She read Cordelia a chapter or two of a mystery book, then finished with a cup of warm milk.

Poor Lucie begged her brain to shut off long after she was wrapped in cotton and silk.

But Charlotte's voice kept droning on in her ears, until her heart was able to tilt.

"I am really happy that Matthew is with you, Lucie. You do know he is trying quite hard to be a better man for you and the baby. You will be quite a good match for my wild child, and quite happy I assure you."

Lucie was uncharacteristically careless in her response. She had only thought about her own wants.

She whole heartedly disagreed before silencing herself much to Cordelia's horror.

Many times Lucie Herondale had tried to imagine being married to Matthew, just for a minute or an hour.

She pictured having a family, a normal Shadowhunter life with him at her side. A family life like her own.

But she just couldn't picture herself being trapped inside. A bird in a cage; her wings barely flown.

She couldn't stay in the net waiting up for him every night. It was just too much to ask.

Worrying. Wondering if tonight would be the night he'd get in a fatal fight or worse; death by her own axe.

How they would feed their family if he died. How would she live, crumbling on the inside. She didn't even have the faintest idea how he felt about women writers or the socially responsible duties they were to provide.

Lucie didn't have a clue how to be a mother or run a household.

This much she'd been told; they'd be wed under the sacred Shadowhunter vows; their bodies marked each with a matching rune.

After they would go on living as two separate people under the light of the moon.

He would conquer binges of weeks where he'd be drunk daily and purges where he would be sick and sober.

She'd stay home; keep house and take care of the children, and he'd lovingly call her his good luck clover.

This would be a cycle that wouldn't end. It would only grow worse with each year; each baby born on the cusp of regret and condenscend.

That didn't mean living with Matthew Fairchild was hopeless as a snowflake in the rain. Perhaps Lucie was wrong. Perhaps Matthew Fairchild was only in pain.

What the cards were showing Lucie now was just a reality she didn't think she could endure.

The truth was, part of Lucie did love Matthew, so much more. When he bled, she bled in her core.

Nightmares and dreams about him had often haunted her into rejecting his previous advances and now she knew why.

She presumed the dreams were omens; warning her not to abandon the sky.

The Fairchild/ Herondale union had been long awaited for by both families, but particularly by the Consul.

Lucie knew what Charlotte expected of her future daughter-in-law was damn near impossible.

Change Matthew. Fix him.

Lucie dreaded every moment spent under the Consul's watchful eye. Every minute she was in Charlotte's company was as unpleasant as a stye.

As Lucie passed Matthew's room, thinking about the last time he'd held a sober smile, she slowed her pace and stopped short. A groaning noise came from within and Lucie wondered if Matthew had overdone it on port.

His door was open just a crack, enough to see into the chaos of his existence; a dream. The stench of stale cigars and regurgitated gin spilled into the hall; hitting her nose like steam.

Lucie gagged and her heart broke at the sight of him laying like a rag doll among dirty linens.

She hadn't expected him to be home and was shocked to see him in such a position.

Lucie had never been able to read Matthew's mind. Now, she wondered if it might have been a good find if she'd had the time.

Her heart had conceded and concluded any type of relationship with him was out of the question.

Being Matthew's bride had never been a suggestion.

She pretended that had been the reason she never reciprocated his feelings. Not until she plainly understood him and his bad dealings.

A well of sadness filled up inside her as she reached out her hand, shining the witchlight into the darkness of the room. The bed was empty except for Oscar, a pillar in the sand.

As usual, the golden retriever was unaware; sleeping loyally ontop of a ragged blanket tucked under his hand.

She shined the light just above Matthew's sleeping body. His arms were spread, legs tucked tight together; a disgusting hottie.

Distracted by the way the light sweat on his chest gleamed pale under the flickering witchlight, Lucie thought about that night. The sweet smirk that swelled on his face was a haunting memory; a sin and a show. One she had hidden in her bones reminding her of a promise she made to him that felt so long ago.

The breeze was cool; the night hot. Cicadas and crickets staged their favorite tunes in an effort to provide a sonata. Not a cloud nor haze flooded the starlit sky; only fireflies lit up the night. Shades of blue from the lake lit her eyes with a warm glow. Lucie watched Matthew with anticipation as her skin grew warmer from every sip of his flask.

Do you love me? Matthew's hot breath on her neck. His lips were fire; hot cinnamon liquor burning her skin with each devious kiss on her flesh.

Yes. Everything would have been yes to him in the heat of that moment. Her hands were beyond confinement and reached eagerly for the buttons on his waistcoat.

Do you promise, Lucie darling? His green eyes were dark, serious under the stars.

I promise. And she meant it. Or she thought she did.

I love you, Lucie Herondale. You're the only one besides James that means anything to me. This is for forever. I swear on my life.

I love you too. Her lips against his were ice on fire; electric and numbing the voice screaming in her head.

Lucie blinked, rolling out of her reverie with the grace of someone used to disappearing into herself.

Matthew was still sprawled out, drool trickled down, out of his mouth.

His hand rested among the fresh vomit and spit on the rug. He was still in his rumpled navy pants and his belt was half undone; broken as the wings of a dead bug.

Stained socks and muddy shoes were discarded in a heap. It was as if he meant to climb in bed and instead just collapsed on the floor, fast asleep.

Lucie wondered if she should wake him; maybe help him into bed or the bath.

Matthew was snoring loudly; the sound sheilding his lips like a mask.

Lucie frowned, watching him and the moment of charity pass.

Matthew stirred and kicked out his leg. He groaned and rolled his head in torment and wrath. "Luce...Lucie. please. PLEASE. Forgive me. Forgive me."

Lucie sighed and flipped the braided pigtails over her shoulders, disgusted and disappointed instead. She shook her head at Matthew, her heart turning to ice.

How could she ever love him like this? The strings of her heart pulled her into a vice.

Lucie knew she wasn't entirely being nice.

At least now she knew Math was safe and breathing. One crisis averted. Now she could stop caring for awhile and continue seething.

Butterflies rolled inside her belly as the baby turned; shifting positions as if it sensed his father's presence and his mother's disgrace.

Lucie tried not to cry as she quickly shut Matthew's door, glad for him to be out of her sight at least for the night.

Lucie Herondale knew she'd be learning a hard lesson in faith.

The manor was cold, bitter like her uncharacteristic temperament. It was just the way Lucie liked things lately; quiet without comment.

The cold made her feel closer to death; closer to Jesse's spirit.

He was quite the opposite of Matthew who had the most obnoxious tendency to be satiric.

She warmed her heart as she thought about the ghost and his quiet, melodic ways. She imagined him in the sunlight; alive during the days.

Lucie became once more determined to save his soul. A debt that was unpaid; a secret not to be told.

Christopher and Grace had snuck downstairs after the lights went out. They were headed to the lab without a doubt.

Christopher thought he might have figured out a chemical compound needed in the spell Grace had shown him during tea and lemon tarts that afternoon.

James promised to guard the door as Thomas occupied the insomniac old housekeeper with a card game and some gin. Every one was in their places; helping Lucie's cause and Lucie shivered, feeling Matthew's hands still on her skin.

A whistle helplessly escaped her lips as she moved down the hall. She felt slightly more optimistic, smiling and all.

Lucie could feel the hairs on her arms rise, theories becoming reality. She felt Grace and her were getting closer to the right order of the specialty.

Goosebumps coated her bare arms as her feet padded quietly towards the music room; the hem of the nightgown billowing around her ankles like a flowers bloom. She tried not to skip like a schoolgirl.

The witchlight she cupped in her hands bounced off the walls; reflecting the contemporary colors in various variations of self portraits and Lucie couldn't help but look down at her hand; Matthew's ring and his pearl.

Suddenly, she was breathless. She stopped; reckless.

Something was wrong.

Someone was watching.

Someone was waiting.

Most of the walls were covered with expensive self paintings. Here and there; scattered were exquisite Idris countryside landscapes which Lucie found intoxicating.

Minature statues and other odd art were strategically placed on pedestals along the walls. Flowers on tables; Oscar Wilde inspired green carnations graced the hall; smelling pecularily of mint and clover during the fall.

This was Matthew's wing and it was freely decorated over. An artist's heart trapped in a body lacking talents. Everything was either beautiful or tragic to him; a man of great gallant.

Nothing was traditional or logical. Should it be to a man of illogical graces?

Lucie noticed the bright green of his eyes in some of the faces. They seemed to move slowly and appeared to be following.

She ignored their name calling as she caught her breath and moved on into the fray. The eerie feeling reminded her of Matthew's favorite legend; Dorian Gray. The fear that story brought back drowned out any other excuse she may have had for being frightened.

Lucie shook slightly as she quickened; her toes were red and numb as her limbs tightened. She scolded herself for venturing this far in the manor for a waste of a shortcut. Down this demented, self loathing hallway she desperately desired a peanut.

She hated that she discarded Matthew's privacy so blatantly. Even moreover her eagerness to meet Jesse hastily.

It had been almost a week since they'd met in private. The time spent apart dramatic.

In all the time she had been in the manor, she had never been in one of the extravagant rooms he uses. He had always forbid it and come to her; insisting she was the favorite among his muses.

Lucie was reminded of the story of Beauty and the Beast, which she found odd and sad at the very least.

Down the stairs, nearly tripping over her feet. Lucie felt a strange tingle on her sheet of skin as she reached the doors to the music room. She took a deep breath and pulled the solid oak doors open and slam against the wall with a boom. "Jesse?"

The moonlight greeted her; pure and silver like a star. Lucie was awestruck by what she saw.

In it's center was a black grand piano; to the left was another Yulemas tree twinking with candles, surrounded with gifts. The branches were strung with gold ribbons and mistletoe adrift.

The shapes of the gifts were shadows on the ceiling; fingers beckoning to the great beyond. Lucie could sense other spirits shamelessly coiling in the dark corners; not ready to move on.

Jesse was tired, trembling and translucent. Lucie felt like she on a boat on the rocking seas. His body was perched on the bench; his hands poised above the ivory keys. His head was lowered; ink stains on the pure, paper skin of his face.

Lucie gasped, parched. She could see he was singing an old Welsh song quietly by the light of a illuminating hearth. She smiled as his fingers instinctively played the tune in the air.

He was beautiful and fair.

Lucie hushed the intrusive and intricate shape of a story taking place in her head. She didn't want to break the moment, but she had to say something to make her heart stop racing and her breath like lead.

"Hello," she whispered to the dead.

#cassandra clare #the last hours #lucie herondale #the shadowhunter chronicles

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ladymercytaylor · 5 years

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All In - Chapter 5 (Joe Mazzello x Reader)

Chapter 5 y’all!!! This one is a thicc bitch that took forever and it aint my best but here it is for ya! Hope you enjoy it :) Summary: You and Joe were in a blissful relationship for 4 years. It seemed as though everything was perfect. You’d moved in together and all of your friends were taking bets on when he’d finally put a ring on your finger. That is until it all fell apart. Now, 1 year on you’re thrown together at a mutual friend’s wedding and it changes everything between you. Previous chapter can be found HERE

Chapter 5 – 9 weeks and 3 days

Getting ready for your night out with the boys was a new experience to say the least. Normally you’d chose the best dress in your wardrobe, but the ever steady swelling of your stomach was gradually reducing your clothing options. You knew that you didn’t have much longer before you’d have to start buying new clothes, but every time you tried you found a cold sweat breaking across your brow and gave up. After staring at your closet for a solid hour you admitted defeat and grabbed the same dress you’d worn to Sebastian’s wedding all those months ago and your trusty Spanx. The waist of the dress hit you right under the bust and would probably provide the best camouflage for your little nugget. “Seriously, spanx?” came Flick’s slightly judgemental voice from over your shoulder. “Shit, Flick!” you exclaimed, clasping your clothes over your racing chest as you rounded on her. “Don’t startle the pregnant chick!” “What, like startling you is going to suddenly eject the baby?” she teased, stepping into your room. She flopped dramatically across your unmade bed, stretching her long arms above her head. “And I re-iterate. Spanx, really? Isn’t that bad for the baby?” “I’ve done extensive Googling. Everyone says it’s fine” you explained, moving to your dresser to pick out your jewellery for the night. “And I don’t really have another option”

“The guys all know now, right? You can be pregnant and proud” she giggled and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “It’s not just that, Flick” you murmured, sifting through the delicate gold chains in your wooden jewellery box. “Those boys attract so much attention now. Before the film it was different but now they’re just…something else. The last thing I need is some random paparazzi noticing and then having plastered all over the internet” You continued to search through your accessories. You picked out a pair of white stone drop earrings and set them to the side before staring intensely at your necklaces, waiting for one to jump out at you. You were only really half focussed on the task though as you could feel the question Flick was not asking. “What would that matter, though? You are pregnant. It’s a fact” A dejected sigh slipped passed your lips. You knew this conversation was coming. Flick had always been on the peripheral when it came to Joe’s life. She saw him when he was sitting around in his stained track pants with 4 day old stubble shouting at the Yankees game on TV. She was never there when your date night was interrupted by a fan. Or when you were getting screamed at by a wall of photographers at the premier of one of his movies. “Things are different for Joe” your voice was much quieter and tense than Flick had expected and she suddenly felt a twinge of guilt in her stomach. “His life is public property. No matter how hard he’s tried there’s always things that he can’t keep private. We were together for 2 years before I even made it onto his Instagram and even that was just because a fan sent out a photo of us on a date first” you sighed, abandoning your search for a necklace to plop down next to her on your bed. “If anyone sees us together and notices that I’m pregnant they’re going to immediately assume that Joe and I are back together. And I just don’t think I can handle that right now” you murmured, picking absentmindedly at the chipping nail polish on your fingers. You didn’t notice Flick get up off the bed and cross to your dresser until she stood in front of you, a gold necklace glimmering between her fingers. “This one” she offered with a smile, stretching out the chain between her hands. Your breath caught in your throat as you recognised the necklace. A small 4 leaf clover dangled from the delicate gold chain, sending flashes of gold light across your face. “Joe gave me that” you murmured, “when we went to Ireland” Flick chuckled quietly as she leaned forward to secure the clasp behind your neck. “I know”

Your heart was hammering against your chest as you neared the restaurant. Joe was meant to collect you from your apartment, but a late running audition had you making the trip uptown by yourself. You kept your denim jacket wrapped tightly around your middle for the whole journey. You hadn’t had to worry about photographers in such a long time that you were startled by how quickly the paranoia returned. Any time you saw someone with a phone in their hand your heart began to race all over again. Your face flushed with an embarrassed heat when a grandma pulling her phone out on the subway had sent you into a small panic. Like some random grandma was going to know that you were Joe Mazzello’s ex-girlfriend. You shook your head, mentally scolding your ridiculousness and vainly attempting to chalk it up to pregnancy hormones. Fortunately you didn’t have much time to think about is as you recognised three very familiar faces through the restaurant window as you exited the station. A beaming smile broke out across your face as you raced inside, desperate to see three of your best friends again. “Gwilly!” you squealed, rushing over to their table. “Y/N!” Gwil replied, immediately pushing out of his seat to wrap both of his arms around you in a vice-like hug. “Oh it’s so good to see you!” he murmured into your hair and you held him even tighter, tears prickling the back of your eyes. Oh how you’d missed him. “Careful, careful!” Rami warned softly, hoping out of his seat. “You’re going to squash mini-Mazzello!” Gwil set you down with a soft laugh and you immediately spun to hop into Rami’s waiting embrace. “Mini-Mazzello is perfectly well protected, Rami” you smiled, kissing him softly on the cheek as you parted. “And congratulations!” you beamed, grasping his shoulders tightly “you deserved every single one of those awards. Fucking outstanding” “Oh, stop” he chuckled, waving a hand dismissively but the darkening of his cheeks gave him away. “And what am I, spare parts?” came a rather indignant voice from over your shoulder. “Of course not, Benny” you teased, letting go of Rami to fall into Ben’s arms. “Just saving the best until last” “Hmm, I guess I can live with that” he chuckled, kissing your temple softly. “Look at you! I used to think that ‘pregnancy glow’ thing was bullshit but I find myself proven wrong” he grinned. “Please, that’s called highlighter and hormonal acne” you replied playfully. Everyone took up their seats, the one next to you left vacant for Joe. “So, how’ve you been?” asked Gwil, leaning forward eagerly on the table. “Work good?” “Can’t complain” you smiled, fidgeting with the gold charm resting against your collar bones. “Got promoted. I’m one of the senior dentists which is nice” “You’re going to have to explain how that’s different from a normal dentist” Rami chuckled and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Dating an actor and socialising with his creative friends had always left a certain amount of disconnect with careers. “Nothing very dramatic, I just get given some more difficult cases and have to take part in their NYU placement program and mentor a dental student. Mine’s called Nadia. She’s cool” you smiled. You were just about to begin telling them one of your more interesting stories that involved Nadia locking herself in the storeroom for 2 hours when a torrent of apologies flooded your ears. “Sorry, sorry, sorry. Director just would not stop talking!” Joe blabbered as he flopped into the seat beside you. “Sure sure, Joe” Gwil teased, flipping open the menu in front of him. Joe, very maturely, poked his tongue out at his friend. “Why do you refuse to see the best in me, Gwil?” Joe pouted, flipping the menu in front of him with over exaggerated vigour. “Past experience” Rami supplied with a cheeky grin. Chuckles erupted all around the table and your ex-boyfriend rolled his eyes playfully. “You’re all just hungry” he muttered grumpily, turning his hazel eyes to the list of dishes in his hands.

Dinner buzzed passed in a whirlwind of conversation and you were only just realising exactly how much you’d missed in the last year. Gwil told you all the details about his proposal to Sarah (it was so sweet you found yourself tearing up, but luckily for you it went unnoticed by the rest of your party). Rami told you all about his next project. He was so excited to be co-starring with Lucy again that he was practically vibrating out of his seat. It warmed your heart to see him speak of her with such care and affection. You’d been on set the day Rami had asked Lucy out to dinner and you’d never seen him so excited. Ben didn’t have anything in the way of exciting news ‘Just work, you know’ but his bright green eyes began to sparkle when you asked how Frankie was doing. She was perfect, as always. But he’d recently been fighting the urge to get her a brother or sister. Spending so much time away from home he wasn’t sure he could handle the guilt of leaving two babies behind instead of one. Despite his reservations you were quick to tell him to get another dog. Not being allowed a pet in your apartment you’d made it your mission in life to live vicariously through your friends.

“So, bar?” Ben suggested as your party stepped out of the stifling restaurant into the cool breeze. “Isn’t that a bit pregnancy-unfriendly?” Rami pointed out with a quick glance in your direction. “Maybe we should head off?” Joe suggested to you, the orange streetlights above your heads dying his hair even more ginger. You knew he was just trying to be considerate. You did. But something in his tone had your skin crawling. And you found a frown furrowing your brow. “I’m pregnant, not dying” you scoffed, stepping away from him to link your arm with Ben’s. “To the bar!” “God, I’ve fucking missed you” the blonde chuckled, immediately setting off down the street, leaving the other boys to follow behind you. Ben dragged you into the first bar you came across, desperate to continue the night before anyone mentioned going home again. “What can I get you?” he asked, pausing as he stepped towards the crowded bar. “Uh…” you murmured, options quickly running through your head, “Lemonade with a slice of lime in a short glass. It’ll look like a G&T to the unaware” you explained. “Roger that, captain” he confirmed, giving you a mock salute before braving the throng of people swaying to the thumping music. Joe, Gwil and Rami traipsed in behind you. Gwil and Rami immediately copied Ben’s trajectory to the bar while Joe hung back to stand next to you. “I didn’t mean to imply anything earlier” he murmured. The despondent tone of his voice had guilt settling in your chest. You opened your mouth to tell him that you were sorry for snapping at him but Ben returned with your drink and beers for everyone else and the words died on your tongue.

“Oh that’s so much better!” you sighed in relief, stepping out into the cool night air after hours of dancing. You hadn’t realised how hot you were until the breeze blew against your sweaty skin. “Come, darling, there’s some seats in yonder corner!” Gwil proclaimed dramatically before grabbing your hand and dragging you to an empty table in the corner of the patio. You let him pull you as peals of giggles fell from your lips. Tipsy Gwil was one of the best Gwils. “Ah, perfect!” he announced as he folded his limbs into the green metal chair. “You know Ben wasn’t joking, pregnancy suits you” he smiled warmly, “But let me guess, it’s been hell right? I don’t know why they bothered calling it morning sickness when it literally happens all day” he chuckled. “Exactly!” you laughed, running your fingers along the cool glass of your drink. “Morning, noon and night. It’s torture” “Oooh, how did your nine week ultrasound go? Do you have the photos?” he asked eagerly, excitement glittering in his blue eyes. You moved to reach into your bag and produce your phone to show him, but something stopped you. “Gwil” you murmured measuredly, eyes narrowing playfully, “by any chance is Sarah pregnant?” you asked, a knowing smile growing on your lips. His eyes widened in disbelief. “What? Nooooo” he denied, crossing his arms firmly over his chest. “Don’t know what you’re talking about” however a furious red blush swept across his cheeks. “Mhhmm sure” you chuckled, withdrawing your phone out of your bag to pull up the ultrasound photos. “You should tell her that Vitamin B6 supplements help with the all-day nausea” you murmured as you scrolled through your camera roll, “She’ll still throw up but she won’t feel so crap in between” “Will do” he beamed, but his smile immediately fell when he realised what he’d done. “Fuck, please don’t tell anyone!” he begged, leaning forward to grasp both your hands in his. “It’s so early and we’re not telling anyone til after the wedding” he pleaded, desperation in his shining eyes. “Secret’s safe with me, Gwilly” you assured, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles. “Just let her know she can talk to me about it all if she wants. It’s….overwhelming to say the least” “You’re a gem” Gwilym sighed gratefully, releasing your hands to pick up his beer bottle and take a swig. “Oh! Photos! Photos!” he demanded, bouncing in his chair so intensely that some other patrons eyed him wearily. “Alright! Settle petal” you chided, passing him your phone. “Aww” he cooed as he took in the black and white photo on the screen. “It’s like a grey gummy bear!” he exclaimed and a burst of laughter escaped your lips. “I’m totally telling Joe you said that” you giggled as he handed the phone back to you. “Gwilym Lee – uncle to a gummy bear” “Oh hush” he scolded with a smile before draining the last of his beer. “Now, who has two thumbs and needs a drink? This guy” he grinned, pointing his thumbs at his chest. “Come back inside with me. We probably need to rescue Ben and Joe from themselves at this point” “I don’t think you’re in much of a state to be saving anyone, Sir Gwilly” you chuckled as he attempted to extract himself from the small chair and nearly tumbled to the floor in the process. Over Gwil’s shoulder you could see a burly bouncer in a far too tight black t-shirt eyeing your friend critically. “I’m fine! I’m fine!” the brunette insisted far too loudly as you pushed him back inside the bar. “I’m perfectly responsible, thank you” he clipped…before tripping over the uneven floor and staggering into the bar. It didn’t take you long to find the rest of your party. It’s kind of hard to miss 3 grown men doing what appeared to be their best impression of Magic Mike dancing at the bar. Rami was quite happy bopping along, his eyes glazed over as he danced in his own little world while both Ben and Joe were gyrating along to Rihanna’s Jump like their lives depended on it – lips pursed and eyes closed in concentration. “I need another drink if I’m going to have to watch that” Gwil shouted into your ear over the music before disappearing into the darkness. “Y/N!” Ben cried out as he opened his eyes, immediately finding you. “Come dance!” he shouted, not even waiting for your response before grabbing your hand and pulling you into the mass of people. A grin stretched your lips as you let him draw you in, immediately falling in step with their moves. Despite the alcohol that was clouding his brain, Joe watched you with perfect clarity. He felt like he’d fallen into one of his dreams – the kind that had plagued him ever since he let you go. Bringing you on nights out with his friends had always been one of his favourite things. You were so carefree, eyes sparkling brightly under the rainbow lights, nothing but laughter leaving your lips as you watched him pull out his most absurd dance moves. You always liked to say that he was by far the worst dancer you’d ever seen but he knew there was no malice in your words. He only did it to make you smile anyway. Watching you dance with Ben, the blonde spinning you around and pulling you against him set his teeth on edge. Not out of jealousy – never that. But to Joe you almost felt like a mirage – so close and yet still so far away. Just when he thought things were going okay he’d say the wrong thing and feel like he was right back at square one again, needing to have Ben step in and call a truce. It felt unfair. Nothing had changed between you and his friends. Gwil loved you just as much as ever. There was no shred of awkwardness between you and Rami when you chatted about work and Ben had no qualms about placing his hand in yours. But he, the one who loved you the most, was stuck behind a glass wall he didn’t know how to break.

It was around 2am that you felt yourself begin to lag. The droning music was crushing against your skull and the relatively sensible heels you’d chosen were beginning to cut into the backs of your ankles. But determined not to be the first to crack you continued dancing, letting Gwil spin you around the makeshift dancefloor. Joe, however, was not as far gone as the other boys and saw your growing fatigue. He saw the way your shoulders were sagging and that the smile gracing your face whenever Ben pulled out some ridiculous dance move was slowly diminishing. Checking his watch he decided with a soft sigh that he was going to have to be the one to pull the plug. There was no way you were going to tap out first. Pregnant or not. “It’s nearly half passed 2” Joe yelled to Gwil, taking advantage of a slight lull in the music. “Maybe we should think about heading off?” A grumpy pout pursed Gwil’s lips but he nodded. He’d stopped drinking a few hours ago but Ben and Rami had ploughed right ahead and he wasn’t sure quite how much longer the two of them could stay vertical. Or evade security’s watchful eye. Joe and Gwil spent the next 10 minutes trying to corral their rather inebriated friends. You hadn’t been an issue. The relief that washed across your face at the suggestion of leaving didn’t go unnoticed by Joe and he felt a surge of pride warm his chest. Rami wasn’t a difficult target, Gwil just had to gently push him towards you, who grabbed his arm tightly. He didn’t seem bothered by it at all really, continuing to bop gently along to the music by your side. Ben, however, was not so simple. He recognised that parental look on Gwil’s face and immediately made a dash to the bar. “Ben, no! Enough!” Gwil commanded, grabbing him by the back of the shirt. “You’re so boring!” the blonde shouted back, but the older man was quicker. He took full advantage of Ben’s impaired stability and tugged on the navy fabric, bringing Ben into a weird pseudo-bearhug so that he used to steer him towards the door. “Spoil sport” he grumbled as Gwil lead the group out of the bar, a rather smug smile on his face. The cool summer air enveloped you as you stepped out onto the street. Summer in New York was unbearable to some but you’d always loved those playful summer nights. For a long time they had been spent with Joe. Either strolling aimlessly through Central Park or trying to find the best ice cream place in within a 6 block radius of your apartment. You’d been together for 2 years before you found it – a little family run shop tucked in between a dry cleaner and a 24 hour pizza joint. Your whole body practically melted the first time you’d tasted their sinfully delicious salted caramel ice-cream and it had quickly become your favourite Friday night hangout. But you didn’t go there anymore. “Alright, where are my boys staying?” you asked, slinging your denim jacket over your folded arms. “My place. It’s only a 15 minute walk from here” Joe supplied, swaying on the spot so violently that Gwil had to steady him with a strong hand. “Please look after them for me” you chuckled to Gwil, watching Ben and Rami continue to dance along to the music that was pouring out of the bar’s open windows. “Subway’s not too far from here. I’m going catch the train” you explained, gesturing up the dark street. “You can’t catch the train alone” Gwil interjected, concern furrowing his brow. “And before you interrupt - I’d say that even if you weren’t carrying such precious cargo” he added quickly. You huffed gently, crossing your arms over your chest but stayed silent. Joe was nodded rapidly beside him and you knew better than to argue with them. “You can crash at mine. There’s plenty of space” Joe offered immediately, his cheeks flushing slightly pink. “Sleepover!” Rami shouted gleefully, sending Ben into a peal of giggles. “I dunno, guys” you murmured, your eyes flickering to the chipped pavement. The night had gone so well so far. Spending the night with Joe just felt like asking for trouble. “Please? Oh please please please please” Ben begged, abandoning Rami to wrap his arms around you. “Pleeease? We’ve missed you” he moaned and you felt that tinge of guilt twist your insides again. “Alright, but only if you get off me. You’re all sweaty” you chuckled, trying to prize his thick arms off you. “Picky picky picky” he tutted playfully but retracted his arms. “Onwards!” he shouted, raising his arm like a charging warrior and thundering down the street. “Ben!” Joe shouted after him. “Other way!”

Your intrepid quintet managed to make it 10 minutes into your journey to Joe’s place before the night claimed its first victim. “Guys, I don’t feel so good” came Ben’s slurred moan from somewhere behind you. “Come on, Ben. We’re only 5 minutes from home” Joe groaned, still wobbling slightly from side to side as he walked next to Rami. “I’m serious” he moaned, his deep voice echoing down the deserted street. Rami just rolled his eyes at the blonde but you turned to check on him. The colour was slowly draining from his flushed cheeks and a pained look was wrinkling his forehead. Your eyes quickly flickered around the street before they settled on a dumpster just tucked into the alley to your right. Recognising the slackening of his jaw you jumped into action, grabbing the boy around the chest and steering him quickly towards the grey bin. You got him there in the nick of time, immediately retching loudly followed by a loud, hollow splash. “Oh, Benny” Joe sighed sympathetically, slowly stumbling over to his friend. Ben continued to vomit into the dumpster but you had to step away, feeling your stomach lurch uncomfortably. “You alright, love?” Gwil asked, his eyebrows knitting together as he noticed the stricken look on your face. You didn’t dare open your mouth to respond, instead searching desperately for another dumpster. There was no such luck but there was a rubbish bin a few metres away. Running as fast your heels could carry you, you folded over the metal frame and threw up what was left of your delicious dinner. You were vaguely aware of a presence behind you, their strong hand resting on your upper back. As your thundering heartbeat faded from your ears you could finally make out the words being whispered behind you. “Bad chicken nugget” Joe murmured, his hand still rubbing soft circles on your back. “Making mummy sick” “Don’t blame nugget” you muttered, spitting very elegantly into the bin. “s’not their fault” “Still” he shrugged, his hand not leaving your slightly damp back as you straightened up, the rolling nausea slowly fading away. “Bad chicken nugget” he slurred softly. You laughed dryly before turning to the rest of your group. Ben was leaning heavily against the window of a closed shop, his blonde head pressed firmly against the dark glass. His forehead was slightly shining with sweat and a distinct green tinge coloured his cheeks. “Alright, boys. Let’s get this baby to bed” you commanded, stepping away from the bin. Joe’s heart clenched slightly as you also stepped out of his reach. “And by baby I mean this one” you explained, gently grasping Ben’s hand. The rest of the boys sniggered as he opened his slightly bloodshot eyes. “Come on, lovey” you smiled softly. “If I move I might chuck again” he warned, the corners of his pillowy pink lips twitching down. “Well if you do I’ll hold your hair back” you assured him, grabbing onto his arm tightly so you could pull him away from the window. “I’ll hold yours back if you do too” he slurred, letting you peel him away from the glass and back down the street towards Joe’s house. “That’s a good boy” you cooed gently, rubbing his arm comfortingly. “Practicing for motherhood?” Rami chuckled, twisting around to look at the two of you. It turned out to not be his smartest idea as he stumbled over his own feet and crashed into an unsuspecting Gwilym. “Bunch of children” he muttered playfully, wrapping his arm around Rami’s shoulders. “Are we nearly there dad?” Ben shouted at Joe, who rolled his eyes at Gwil’s snigger. “Almost. Now settle down or I won’t let you have the Oreos hidden in the cupboard” he warned. Ben moaned loudly next to you but you couldn’t help but giggle. It was cute of him to try, but you couldn’t help but snort at his attempt to be authoritative. Joe had always had ‘fun dad’ written all over him.

“Here we are. Home sweet home” Joe grinned, digging into the pocket of jeans and withdrawing his set of keys. The orange light of the streetlights bounced off the silver metal as he opened the front door, but you were transfixed in place, jaw slightly ajar. It was the exact brownstone that Joe had shown you the listing for all those years ago. It still had the same green front door with matching window shutters and a rainbow of flowers blooming in planter boxes under the sills. It was the definition of the perfect home - the exact kind of home you’d been hoping to share with him. The realisation that he’d found it for himself left an unsettling feeling in your stomach. “How the hell did you afford this?” you blurted out rather inelegantly. The rest of the group chuckled as Joe’s cheeks flushed scarlet. “There was a nice bonus for each of us after BoRhap did so well” Gwil explained softly. “Damn” you murmured appreciatively. The lock clicked softly and Joe shepherded the group inside, flicking on the lights. A soft golden glow flooded the entry, bouncing back off the dark polished floorboards. The boys all charged deeper into the house towards the kitchen, Ben’s cries of “Oreos!” barely registering in your mind. An uncomfortable lump settled in your throat as you peered around the corner into the living room. Everything in the room screamed of Joe. He’d hung up all of his posters again and you smiled at the addition of a yellow and purple Bohemian Rhapsody print to the line up. The Jurassic Park one would always be your favourite though. “Cookie, milady?” a soft voice interrupted your thoughts. Joe offered you a small stack of biscuits. You were glad to see that he’d stopped swaying so much and happily took the cookies off him. “The house is beautiful, Joe” “Thanks” he murmured, a shy blush colouring his cheeks, “I was hoping you’d like it” “What’s not to like?” you chuckled, gesturing to the airy entry way and living room. “You bought a house. In New York. That’s the dream” “Well, Brooklyn” he corrected teasingly, nibbling the edge of one of his cookies, “But yeah, it’s pretty sweet” he opened his mouth to say something else, but the dull thundering of footsteps swept into the living room. “Bedtime!” Gwil was ordering, shoving Ben and Rami towards the polished staircase. Sharing a knowing smile you and Joe followed them to the second floor. “Who’s sleeping where?” Rami asked as the five of your staggered up the stairs towards the bedrooms, cookies still clasped in your hands. “Well I was going to share with Joe but I think that shan’t be the case now” Ben muttered, nodding to you. “I can sleep on the couch, I don’t mind!” you volunteered quickly, a guilty heat prickling up your neck. “No!” all 4 men replied immediately. You could tell from the tone that there would be no negotiating so you leant against the wall and watched them fight it out. “The couch is too small for me!” Gwil argued when Ben suggested he sleep downstairs. “Please you’re too big for any bed, you big tree” the blonde shot back playfully, swaying slightly on the spot. Gwil rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well if we’re using the height logic then Joe should sleep on the couch – he’s the smallest!” he argued. Joe’s mouth dropped open. “I’m not sleeping on the couch in my own fucking house!” he exclaimed, shoving another Oreo aggressively into his mouth, “it should be Rami!” “Uh, don’t think you’re going to be able to move him at this point” you interjected, pointing to the spare bedroom. The remaining 3 boys turned to follow your finger and groaned in chorus. Rami had evidently taken advantage of their bickering to step into the spare room, strip off his shoes and pants and hop under the covers. He was snoring soundly, covers tucked up to his neck. “Well, Benny, looks like you’re on couch duty” Gwil grinned, slapping him firmly on his shoulder. The blonde groaned but seemed to accept defeat, moving to head back down the staircase. “Wait, I’ll do it on one condition” he stated, keeping his green eyes firmly on you. “You make us pancakes in the morning” “Deal” you grinned. Ben beamed triumphantly before descending down the wooden stairs. “I’ll grab you some blankets” Joe volunteered, following his friend to the lower level. “Just grab anything you want from my dresser, Sweets” he called up, voice reverberating off the wooden floor, “Spare toothbrush under the sink as well” The second you walked into Joe’s bedroom it felt like being kicked in the chest. You were surrounded by every little thing that you’d missed so much for the last year. The abandoned stack of books on his nightstand that he always promised he’d get around to reading. His framed Yankees jersey hanging over the bed. His old baseball bat placed haphazardly against the wall. And the huge collection of framed photos that lived on top of his dresser. When you were pulling an old t-shirt and a pair of shorts out of the wooden drawer, your eye caught on a very familiar photo that made your heart stutter in your chest. It was a photo of you and Joe, taken on the set of Bohemian Rhapsody. You’d come to visit him for the first week – he’d insisted that he’d feel more confident if you were there. You’d thought that he looked so unbelievably adorable in his Live Aid outfit that you’d insisted on taking a photo. Joe, still a bit self-conscious about the perm, had agreed on the condition that you were in the photo too. You were both beaming at the camera, Joe’s arms wrapped firmly around your waist. If you looked close enough you could see Rami and Ben imitating the two of you behind the drum riser. “It’s not weird that I still have that, is it?” Joe asked softly from the doorway. You shook your head, not daring to take your eyes off the photo. “It was a good day” you murmured, clenching the clothes in your hand tightly as you willed yourself not to cry, tears prickling behind your eyes. “Are you feeling a bit better?” he asked softly, padding across the dark carpet. He reached into the open drawer and withdrew a pair of his own pyjamas. “I’m okay” you assured him with a gentle smile. “Can’t wait for this part to be over though” Joe smirked at your chuckle, leaving you in front of the dresser to head into the en suit. While he was getting ready you swapped your slightly damp dress for Joe’s clothes, taking the moment to fold your dress carefully next to your heels, trying desperately to ignore the comforting feeling of the soft fabric against your skin. “All yours” Joe announced as he stepped back into the room, now clad in his matching blue pyjamas. You murmured your thanks as you scurried passed but it didn’t go unnoticed by Joe that your eyes racked down his figure before the door clicked shut. Sleep took you as soon as your head hit the pillow, but Joe refused. He lay awake, battling the drowsiness that was pulling against his eyelids. He knew he should sleep. It was late and he had a whole day of full of plans with the boys, but he just couldn’t tear his hazel eyes off you. Nothing about you had changed in the last year. You were still just as stunning, your hair splayed out on the pillow, lips slightly parted as you took deep steady breaths. And for a moment, just a moment, if he forced himself to forget about the baby - forget about the break up and just imagine that he’d never walked away from you - everything was right in the world. But reality came rushing back a few moments later, disappointment crushing against his chest.

The soft morning light streamed in through the gap in Joe’s curtains, falling across your face to rouse you from sleep. Groaning slightly you reached for your phone, squinting at the bright light, only to sigh in disappointment. Who wakes up at 7.30 on a Sunday? You were only awake and scrolling through Instagram for a few blissful minutes before you felt that all too familiar roll of your stomach, sweat prickling on your brow. As carefully as you could, you threw off the blankets and dashed out of the room. Stumbling down the corridor, you finally made it to the bathroom where you proceeded to fall to your knees in front of the toilet to throw up what was left of your late night Oreos. “You alright there, bub?” came a gentle voice from over your shoulder. You sat back with a grown, flushing away the evidence. “Just peachy” you muttered, standing to rinse your mouth out at the sink while Gwil watched you, nothing but sympathy in his deep blue eyes. “I didn’t wake you, did I?” you moaned, leaning against the marble counter. You watched him shake his head in the mirror, his messy hair falling across his forehead. “Rami kicked me in his sleep. Figured it might not be a bad idea to duck out and get them all some decent coffee. God knows they’re going to need it” he chuckled. “Did you want to come with? Fresh air always makes Sarah feel better” “Definitely” you grinned gratefully, exiting the bathroom. “Just let me get changed. Don’t think the public of New York are quite ready to see this” you chuckled, gesturing to Joe’s old basketball shorts and ripped Yankees shirt. “I’m pretty sure I’ve seen Joe wear that exact outfit in public before so I wouldn’t worry” he laughed before heading down the stairs, leaving you to get yourself ready.

“So, how are you really doing?” Gwil asked the second the two of you stepped out onto the sunny street. A few pedestrians passed you but no one gave you a second glance much to both of your relief. “Told you last night, Gwil. I’m good” you replied lightly, keeping your eyes firmly on the concrete path ahead. You could feel his piercing gaze on the side of your face and resolutely ignored it. “Y/N, it’s just me” he said softly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “There isn’t anything you can’t tell me” “What do you want me to say, Gwil?” you asked measuredly as the back of your neck prickled uncomfortably. “I – I just – you’re doing a really good job of acting like everything’s okay. And I almost believe you. But this has to be hard” “Of course it’s hard” you murmured, scuffing your toe against the dark pavement, “You try throwing up 6 times a day. Oh, and pregnancy brain is 100% real by the way. I accidentally put my keys in the fridge and almost threw my phone away the other day” you chuckled. But Gwil could feel the hollowness of your voice. “I didn’t mean that” he replied softly, flapping the sides of his jacket nervously. “I meant spending so much time with Joe” Ice cold panic shot up your veins. For all the support you’d gotten from Flick and your family over the last 9 weeks, no one had articulated that particular issue. “I don’t mean to pry” Gwil murmured, interpreting your silence as offense, “I just can’t imagine it’s easy having him back in your life after so long” “There’s good and bad in it” you whispered after a long silence, letting your gaze drift to the emerald trees hanging over the road. “It’s just a weird reminder, you know?” you murmured, sniffling slightly and the Brit felt an overwhelming wave of sympathy for you. “Having him around just reminds me of how much I loved him and how much he hurt me at the same time. It’s exhausting honestly” “You’re handling it like an absolute champ, love” Gwil murmured as the two of you came to a stop outside the coffeeshop. He noticed the tears glistening in your eyes and pulled you into a tight hug, wrapping his arms around you. “That baby has got the toughest woman I’ve ever met as it’s mum” he whispered into your hair. A few tears dripped down your cheeks as you hugged him back just as tight. “Oh, and I have something to ask you” he added, voice much brighter than a few moments ago and you found yourself desperate for a change of subject. “Would you please come to the wedding? Sarah and I would both love to have you there” “Of course, Gwilly” you beamed into his shirt, giving him a tight squeeze around the middle. “Now, come on. Those hungover boys are relying on us” you chirped, reluctantly pulling out of his embrace. Gwil grasped the metal doorhandle, pulling the door open to let you in first. You smiled happily up at him as he let you pass, scurrying into the cold relief of air conditioning.

Joe slowly blinked awake as the delicious scent of vanilla flooded his bedroom. He sat up to see Gwilym standing in the doorway, a plate piled high with steaming pancakes in one hand while the other wafted the smell into the room. “Breakfast is ready when you are, your highness” the older man teased gently, stepping back out into the corridor. Joe grinned and threw the covers back, tearing out of the bedroom and down the stairs. When he walked into the kitchen he was greeted with a sight that made his heart skip a beat. Two of his best friends in the world were propped up at the kitchen table, both looking a little worse for wear but at least conscious, while his third best friend stood in the kitchen, evidently playing sous chef to you. You had that radiant smile on your face that he’d missed so much while you ladled batter into a sizzling frypan. You were dressed in your own clothes again and he felt his heart pang slightly. Last night he realised how much he’d missed seeing you in his clothes. His heart practically stopped when you pulled on his jersey. “Good morning, sunshines” he beamed at Rami and Ben who only managed grunts of acknowledgement. “Now we’re all assembled – we can eat!” Gwil cried happily, hurrying over to the dining table with three plates of pancakes in his hands. “Not so loud, mate” Ben groaned, slowly sitting up as his breakfast was dropped in front of him. “You young ‘uns. Don’t know when to stop” Gwil tutted mockingly, heading back into the kitchen to grab his plate of pancakes. “I distinctly remember a few nights in Japan that would negate your argument, Lee” Rami chuckled, taking a slow sip of water and wincing slightly. You smiled to yourself as you watched the round disks of batter slowly bubble in the pan. Of all the casts Joe had ever been a part of, there was something undeniably magical about the Bohemian Rhapsody boys. “Sweet mother of mercy, I forgot how good these were” Ben groaned, his lips firmly around his fork. Rami nodded enthusiastically, a droplet of syrup slipping down his chin. You giggled softly, flipping the last of the pancakes out of the steaming pan and onto your plate. “If we come to New York more can we have more pancakes?” Gwil grinned as you sat down opposite him. “I’m deeply offended that you only want me for my food” you pouted, cutting off a small section of your breakfast. “We like you for others reasons too” The laughter bubbling from your lips died as you felt your stomach roll. Oh no, not again. You dropped your cutlery with a clatter on the dining room table before dashing towards the bathroom for the second time that morning, your hand clasped over your mouth. “Shit” Joe whispered, immediately pushing away from the table and hurrying after you. “I’ve missed her” Rami murmured after a few moments, his eyes not leaving the half eaten plate of pancakes in front of him. “He’s missed her too” Ben added quietly, stabbing a square of pancake rather aggressively. A heavy pause passed between the three boys. “You reckon….?” Rami asked, his hand twitching slightly against the metal of his fork. “Guess we’ll have to wait and see” Gwil murmured, his blue eyes still fixed on the hallway his two friends had disappeared down.

THAT’S ALL FOR NOW! Stay tuned for the next chapter! TAG LIST!!

@sunflower-borhap-boys @blushingwueen @briarrose26 @mrsmazzello @escabell @yourealegendroger @sincereleygmg @zvzxs @dramatique-moi @borhapqueen92 @manuosorioh @deakyjohns @rogwhoretaylor

#joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello #john deacon x reader #borhap cast #borhap #joe mazzello imagine

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