#michael is happy with his family they have not abandoned him for months i am not saying this to cope

[trashmouth-richie]

TWIN FLAMES

Eddie Munson x female!reader

“You and I we are embers from the same fire, dust from the same star, echoes of the same love.” -Craig Crippen

Summary: Your boyfriend Steve is everything you’ve ever wanted. Handsome, kind, a great lover. Nothing could ever stray you away from him. Or is there?

<w/c> 5.7k (1/??)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x y/n female!reader Eddie Munson x y/n female!reader Vickie x Robin

Warnings: underage alcohol use, drug use, fighting, mentions of child abuse, mentions of murder.

A/N: happy saturday, this is a first ever fic for me! Like everyone on the planet, I am obsessed with Eddie Munson, I’m nervous very nervous to be posting this! But feedback is greatly appreciated! Also shout/out to @boomhauer for reading this and giving me advice ❤️‍🔥

knock knock no vecna here ❗️his crusty ass does not exist in this fic and will never

masterlist

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You and Steve Harrington have been dating since freshman year. Both of your dads went to Harvard together and you had known Steve since you were infants. Always together during the holidays and weekend trips to Indianapolis, your friendship blossomed into something more. He wasn’t always big hair and a cute ass in jeans, he was once a pimply preteen with a puberty voice and braces. But it didn’t matter, you loved him then and loved him now. Going into your senior year you couldn’t wait to graduate high school and leave Indiana behind with Steve by your side. You had both already talked about going to Harvard to follow in your parents footsteps. It was the perfect, ideal life you had always wanted. It was a safe option, And you were smitten.

Living in Bridgeport which is east of Hawkins about 15 miles and an even smaller town than Hawkins, you didn’t really know anyone besides Steve’s friends that went to Hawkins High. So when he picked you up on that hot July night to go to a party at some farm in Hawkins, you didn’t expect to meet anyone in particular.

“Steve can you please slow down, I’m going to poke my fucking eye out back here!” Robin yells from the backseat, Robin had been trying to achieve the perfect smoky eye look for the last 10 miles.

“Oh piss off Robin, Vickie will be too busy staring at your boobies to notice whether or not your eyeliner is even” Steve shoots back.

You stifle a giggle, their banter is something you miss during the school months when you’re dealing with the assholes at your school. Steve squeezes your thigh and gives you a wink before turning up the radio and singing along to REO Speedwagon.

“Hey did you guys hear that Susie and her family are moving to Hawkins?! I thought Dustin was going to lose his voice when he told me he was screaming so loud” you added through the car.

Steve turns the radio down and agrees, “yeah he was pretty excited, honestly I am too it’ll be nice to actually meet her instead of listening to him talk about her 24/7”.

“Fucking finally!” Robin says as Steve pulls up to the large nearly run down barn. Usually the parties you accompany Steve to are at his house but, both of your parents were there throwing a “Wine Club” party for the Hawkins elite. So Tommy Johnson, who must have been a senior like Steve, decided to have the pre holiday celebration at his parents abandoned barn. It made you feel a little uncomfortable drinking somewhere you’ve never been before. Both Steve and Robin assured you it was cool, Tommy’s parents were friends with the Hawkins Police and they never bothered to even check in.

Robin is the first out of the car before it’s even in park, she grabs her bottle of Boonesfarm from the trunk and makes her way over to where Vickie is dancing along to Michael Jackson. Before you can even unbuckle your seatbelt, Robin and Vickie are all over each other. You clear your throat to Steve pointing out Robin and Vickie. Steve rolls his eyes and laughs.

“She deserves to be happy, it took her a long time to find someone who wasn’t just using her for a one time experience”. A single tear wells up in his eyes and you can see how incredibly happy he is for his closest friend.

Robin truly is one of a kind. Taller than most girls and uniquely her own, Robin was sweet and your first friend from Hawkins outside of Steve. In the 4 years you’ve known her, she has never forgotten your birthday or your and Steve’s anniversary. You had heard of the awful things people would say to her knowing that she was different, the popular girls even accused her of staring and taking pictures of them in the locker rooms while changing for P.E. She was the town pariah until Vickie showed up, saving Robin in ways no one else could.

Slamming the door shut to the car and making your way over to Steve, you smile up at him as he wraps his arm around your waist walking into the Christmas light lit barn.

A mixture of gravel and loose dirt grating beneath your shoes is muffled as music begins pounding through your ears. The barn is crowded and sweltering, sweaty bodies are bopping along to the music. Beer is spilled all over the wooden splintered floor becoming puddled in places the old floor has been warped from use. Looking up seeing Steve wave to some familiar faces, you start to recognize a few people who are regulars at Steve’s parties.

Nancy and El are opposite Jonathan and Mike; a long makeshift table between them. The closer you get you notice the “table” is a door, ripped off its hinges and sitting atop two sawhorses. Red plastic cups filled to the brim with warm cheap beer are set in a triangle in front of the girls, only two cups missing. Across the table, four cups are arranged in no particular pattern in front of Jonathan and Mike. Clearly the girls are whooping their asses in beer pong.

“El! No powers, it's not fair!!” Mike yells removing another cup as Johnathan chugs one previously removed. El wipes her nose and high fives Nancy.

“Balls back bitches!” Nancy squeals, jumping up and down. You wave politely to the crew and they all hoot and holler back at you and Steve. Max and Lucas are standing hip to hip in a small crowd watching Max’s brother Billy do a keg stand and cheering and counting along,

“25, 26, 27….”

“That’s a fucking record Hargrove!” a tall red haired teen shouts holding his hands up to his mouth imitating a megaphone, a cigarette staggering between his fingers and ashes falling like snow to the ground.

The teens holding Billy’s legs set him down as he throws both arms up in the air like a boxer being announced champion. He leans his head back, hair sticky with sweat, eyes glossed over clearly the effects of another stimulant. He puckers his mouth as if to whistle but instead spits beer in the air towards the crowd. You watch as the girls in the crowd open their mouths to catch any fallen drips of beer from the atmosphere as if Billy is the second coming of Christ himself.

Steve gives you a look of disgust and rubs on your back and guides you both towards a beat up green patterned couch. You know Steve is not Billy’s biggest fan, only tolerating him because of Max, calling him an outright unhinged psycho. He frequented Steve’s parties and made his presence known by doing the infamous keg stands. Girls flocked to him, hoping to become his flavor of the night like he was a goddamn celebrity.

Careful not to sit on the exposed springs on the beat to shit couch, you scoot to the end of the couch, leaning against the side taking in the smells of dusty hay, weed, and spilled alcohol. Steve grabs you a beer before plopping down next to you throwing his arm around your shoulder. He leans into you and whispers “you’re the prettiest girl here y/n” in your ear before kissing your temple and blowing a raspberry into your ear. You squeal and dig your maroon painted fingers into his armpit knowing that’s his most ticklish spot. You both laugh and share a kiss, cuddled up as you watch the party and giggle as people start dancing terribly to ‘Thriller’.

“Oh shit, hey babe I’m gonna go talk to Tommy really quick, you okay here for a bit?” Steve whispers into your ear. You nod and he gets up, leaning down to give you a quick kiss on your lips.

“Be right back!” He says, as he saunters off through the crowd.

Tapping your foot along to the music, you take some long swigs of your beer. letting your mind wander. It's crazy to you how close you are to being a senior and how not soon after that you will be going to college with Steve. Both of your mothers had talked you both into getting senior pictures done together last month. It was a perfect cool June morning that day and you and Steve had on slightly matching outfits, light faded jeans with white button ups. Your mother was tearing up behind the photographer as Steve’s mother clung to her wiping her nose. You can’t believe how lucky you were to have Steve in your life. He was your first everything, boyfriend, kiss, you both were virgins before each other. It was perfect. You couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your life with Steve and to become Y/n Y/m/n Harrington.

Soon your beer is gone and Steve has left the sixer in the trunk. Looking around you spot another keg opposite where the one Billy and his cronies were. You get up making your way across the party lightly bumping into peoples shoulders and squeezing your way around a couple making out. Nobody is around the keg when you finally spot it. Eyeing a plastic cup you place the nozzle into it and begin pumping the tap on the keg— nothing happens. A small trickle of cream foam makes its way out of the nozzle falling into the cup like molasses. Well that settles why no one is around the keg.

Standing on a nearby crate you look around the barn for Steve. Shouldn’t be too hard, just need to find that perfect suave head of his, he isn’t called “the hair” because he uses Irish spring as shampoo. But to no avail, Steve is nowhere in site. You climb down from the crate and begin pushing your way back to the other keg Billy has claimed for himself. Walking through a dense cloud of weed smoke you hear someone singing “Free Bird” and two other voices giggling. Coughing a bit and nearing the keg, you hear Billy shouting at someone.

“Hey watch it dick!” Billy is now wearing a pink sweater? No wait, that’s a girl wrapped around him like a leech, her mouth still attached to his neck as he yells.

“What the fuck did you say to me Hargrove?” a guy in a green letterman jacket yells back.

“I said, watch where you’re throwing that tic tac you call dick around before I knock your ass out” Billy grunts pushing the girl off of him and stepping towards the other guy so that they are nose to nose. He is sweating profusely and wearing a big purple hickey where the human sucker fish girl was previously.

They are both staring at each other with looks that could kill. “Oh real—" the comeback is cut short by Billy as he leans back and throws a hard punch right into the other guy's jaw.

The guy stumbles backwards into his friends as he caresses his jaw. He stands to his full height and shoves Billy backwards. Everyone starts yelling and you realize you are in a compromised position. You aren’t sure how it happens but you are caught in the mix of the fight and before you know it, you get knocked backward, hard.

Your head connects with a loud thwack as it hits a wooden post extending upwards to support the old barn. Almost immediately you can feel the headache pumping through your eyeballs. Sitting up as the room begins to spin and touching the side of your head, you can feel a warm thick liquid beginning to pool on your shoulder. The cut feels small but since you have been drinking the blood comes quickly. Before you can even understand how to get out of the barn or to find Steve, arms come behind you and under your arms, helping you stand up and ushering you towards the door to outside.

“Move! Get the fuck out of the way!” The voice behind you says. You’re fading in and out. You suddenly feel the lightness of your body floating. A bed? No, a cloud has wrapped around you and is carrying you higher and higher to the sky. The sensation is comforting and you can hear someone talking to you in a sweet angelic voice. When you finally open your eyes, a pair of warm rough hands are holding your face, a slight sting to them.

You look up to see a pair of melted hershey's kiss eyes staring back at you.

But they aren’t the usual brown eyes you are used to seeing. These eyes are so brown they could fill a naughty kid’s stocking at Christmas. The ones you always see are lighter— like little pots of honey. The shape is different too, these are big, almost doe like. The outline of a face finally comes into view. It’s not one you recognize. You blink repeatedly trying to focus your vision on who is in front of you.

———————-

“FUCK JULY!” Eddie shouts to anyone who will listen. “It’s hot, sticky, fuck— how the hell am I supposed to wear a leather jacket if it’s 110 degrees out here?!”

“Simple, you don’t” Jeff says wiping his brow. “But if you would shut the hell up we could get done faster”

“Why the fuck did you want to do this outside?!” Gareth whines.

Tonight was the night any small town drug dealer waits all year for. All the jock bastards and their girlfriends and their older brothers and sisters are home for the 4th of July holiday and the only thing they are looking for is to get high. And since Reefer Rick was locked up since April.. Eddie is the main attraction.

Instead of Eddie’s usual lunch box he toted around for quick deals, he turned the back of the van into a full blown operation. The three teens have been rolling joints and blunts since sun up this morning. The morning was a decent 75° but once the wind died down it was game over for the metal heads. Gareth had seriously been thinking of cutting off his jeans into a daisy duke type outfit. Eddie, refusing to do anything not metal, was full clad in jeans, leather jacket and shaggy curly hair. Jeff had retired his shirt and tied it around his head in a makeshift bandana.

The thing about Forest Hills trailer park is that there is next to zero shade. So there they were, huffing it out in the back of Eddie’s van, arms coated in sweat and hair stuck to the back of their necks. Each getting more and more irritated as the day goes on.

“Alright boys let’s split these up into bags: 5 to a bag on the left and 10 to a bag on the right.” Eddie directs.

Jason Carver had been the one to make the call to Eddie and specifically ask for weed and coke for Johnson’s party tonight. That white powdery shit is a BIG payday for Eddie and as much as he hates carrying it, never having even touched it himself… Okay fine! There was that one time where Rick and Sal had convinced Eddie to snort a pixy stick, and it turns out they traded the sugary colored powdered candy out for coke. Yeah hilarious. Since then, Eddie hasn’t touched the shit, but knowing it was a “rich man’s” drug he really couldn’t resist the extra cash. And if it would take all day to arrange the drugs to make a big sale, he would do it.

With everything set up and ready to go Eddie stands to his feet hitting his head with a thud on the roof of the van.

“Jesus H Christ!” He grunts, rubbing his thick, tangled and sweaty hair against his head.

“Alright boys,” Eddie says now leaning forward and ducking out of the van, “I’m gonna take a shower and I suggest you both do the same if you plan on trying to get laid tonight.”

Jeff lets out a laugh wiping his face with his bandana shirt combo and hopping out of the van, “what time you picking us up Eddie?”

“Yeah no shit, I still have to get Mark to buy us some booze” Gareth chimes in.

“Ehh 9:30 and not a minute later, here’s $20 for my beer.”

Eddie says handing Gareth the money. He slips it into his pocket and they disappear in Jeff’s car, a cloud of dust trailing behind them out of the trailer park.

Eddie stretches the cramps out of his long legs and climbs the steps up to the trailer. The blast of lukewarm air hits his face and the relief enters his pores and begins the cooling sensation all over his body.

After taking a longer than normal cold shower only getting out after hearing Uncle Wayne pounding on the door, “Damn son, you better have all of your laundry in there washing it by hand with how long your skinny ass has been in there for wasting that water!” Eddie emerges from the bathroom with a towel hung low on his hips.

“Sorry” he chuckles to Wayne. “It’s just fucking hot out today”

“Listen I don’t want to know what you’re doing in there just try to cut it short alright” Wayne says tussling Eddie’s wet hair giving him a grin through parted lips a cigarette hanging between them.

—————————————————————————

Finally getting ready and picking up the boys, Gareth, Eddie and Jeff made it to Johnson’s barn and are shotgunning cool beers in celebration. Suds run down Eddie’s chin and he wipes them away with the back of his hand. The deal between Eddie and Jason has been dealt with and all that was left in the van were a couple of joints.

Gareth is hunkered down in the back of the van doing smoke tricks trying hard to impress some junior girls. Eddie looks back and gives his friend a thumbs up and a shit eating grin. Jealousy is something that comes quickly to Eddie. Not that he was jealous of Gareth, hell no. He just was jealous that a girl was paying attention to him in that way, well any sort of way.

Eddie always thought of himself as not only a lost sheep but a black sheep as well. “Stealing, dealing, Victor Creelin’” that was the ‘Munson men’ mantra that was engraved in his brain since he was 7 years old. And as badass as that sounded, he just didn’t fit the bill.

Instead of stealing whatever was valuable and doing shady deals and killing whoever got in the way like his dad, Eddie started working full time at only thirteen years old in the summer time for Jimmy at his garage in town. Begging Jimmy and promising he wouldn’t turn out like his old man, Eddie was a natural at learning the ins and outs of the cars that came through the bays. Jimmy taught him everything he knew from airing up a tire to repairing motors, he took Eddie under his wing and showed him the ropes. Giving Eddie some pride for the first time in his life from someone other than his uncle Wayne.

After being tossed in juvy at eight years old for being an accomplice to a string of gas station robberies and even the murder of one of the clerks and naive enough to think that his dad would take the blame only to pin it all on Eddie: he vowed to never take anything his dad said seriously again. The county finally pulled their heads out of their asses and Eddie was released.

He even gathered enough courage to tell his dad to fuck off when he asked for Eddie’s help one week after his 6 month stay in juvy for one more job, earning him a black eye that the whole town turned their heads at.

But not towards him to see that he was being abused at home, but away from him, regarding him as trailer trash and that whatever happened he probably deserved it. Wayne stepped in after that, being awarded full guardianship over Eddie since his dad was locked up and would be for life.

That was twelve years ago, and Eddie hadn’t seen his dad since. Wayne and Eddie moved on from the past trying like hell to change the “Munson men Mantra”. Wayne was rough around the edges, skin like leather, voice gruff but he was honest, hard working and showed Eddie how to make an honest man’s wage. As grateful as Eddie was for Wayne, there was always something missing. He knew Wayne cared for him but what Eddie yearned for was someone to love him in a way Wayne could not. He wanted to love someone like in those cheesy romcom movies he caught Wayne sometimes watching.

The daydreaming gaze in Eddie’s eyes is lost at the sight of Dustin Henderson and Will Byers double fisting some beer. “Ah, good sirs, what have we here?”

“Eddie! Man I didn’t think you would show up to this party! Mike, Will and I begged Nancy to drag us along. Mike told her that he would tell their mom if she didn’t bring us with! Pretty cool right?!” Dustin brags. Eddie can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous they both look. His Hellfire crew, his little lost sheep that he had a brotherly love for. He would die for these kids and they all knew it.

“Yeah, give me one of those,” Eddie says, grabbing a beer from both of them.

“Hey Eddie I was wondering if I could—” Will stammered.

“Nope you know my rule, I don’t deal to under class-men especially ones whose brothers already buy from me.”

He stops Will before he can even get started. Will hangs his head and pushes around some dirt around with the toe of his shoe.

“Sorry man, I just can’t bring myself to do that. I don’t have many rules but what kind of man would I be if I didn’t have at least one?” Eddie reaches up to ruffle Will’s stick straight bowl cut a bit and gives him a toothy grin.

Jeff takes another long pull of his beer and is dragged by Dustin out into the clearing to have a stick fight.

“Loser has to do the other's homework for a week!” Dustin yells behind him to Jeff.

Gareth and his lady friends have made their way into the barn laughing and swaying along singing “Freebird” leaving Eddie and Will behind the van.

“‘scuse me Will, I gotta drain the main vein” Eddie says crushing the finished beer in his hand and tossing it behind him. Eddie walks to the front of the van setting the cold can from Dustin on the dented, paint faded hood.

“cause I’m as freeeeee as a birrrrrd nowwwww” Eddie sings to himself, unzipping his pants and baring his birthday suit to the blackness around him. Trying to write “Eddie” in cursive in the dirt below him, Eddie hears what could only mean one thing.

“FIIIGHT!” Is screamed from inside the barn, yanking up his pants careful to not zip up his manhood, Eddie runs inside to see what’s going on. Billy Hargrove and some other asshat are punching each other both piss drunk. He’s about to walk out of the barn, when something catches his eye, and that’s when he sees you. Leaned up against a post with blood dripping down your face. Pushing his way through the crowded, drunk, yelling assholes in the barn, he manages to get behind you yanking you up, yelling at everyone to move out of the way so he can get you out of the chaos, your body goes limp and Eddie starts carrying you bridal style to the van. He fishes in his pockets for his keys and tosses them to Will who is still standing beside the van. “Unlock it!” Eddie instructs.

“Oh shit! What happened?!” Will screams. Eddie sets you down in the back of the van holding your head in his hands. “She got knocked out in that fight, here help me, do you know her name?” He asks Will as he leans you up against one of the amps. He gently slaps your cheeks trying to wake you up.

“No, I have no idea who she is,” Will says frantically.

“Come on come on!” Eddie repeats, Your eyes start to flutter open and you look up at him. In that moment Eddie felt as if his entire life meant nothing until this very second. He had never seen anyone quite like you before. But that’s not what kept him staring.

—————————————————————————

Fireworks. You swore there were fireworks in those eyes staring deep into your soul. The guy looking back at you was someone you have never seen before, yet it felt like you have known him for years.

He had long curly brown hair, surprisingly plump lips, and those eyes… wow.

“A-are you okay? How many fingers am I holding up?”

He takes his hands off of your face and holds up 3 ring adorned fingers. Without your eyes leaving him you manage to stutter out, “th-three”.

“Ah, she speaks” he coos with a toothy grin.

His veiny arms fall to his sides and you take in the rest of him. He has broad shoulders and a slender waist. Tattoos peek out from the collar of his shirt and his sleeves decorating his alabaster skin. He’s wearing a Black Sabbath shirt with black jeans and converse.

“Do you remember what happened sweetheart?” He asks, concern in his eyes.

“I uh.. I think I fell over and hit my head” you stumble over your words.

Your tongue feels like thick and heavy and your mouth is suddenly dry. His hands are on your chin turning it gently to the side to assess your head injury. His fingers feel like a lightning strike against your skin, it’s electric, burning, but oddly comforting.

“I don’t think you need stitches, but here, hold this so it will stop bleeding.” He hands you a wadded up shirt, lightly grabbing your hand and placing it at the site of your cut.

“Will, run to the house and find whatever you can to get this thing cleaned, bandaids, peroxide some water probably to clean her up.”

You didn’t even notice that there was a boy standing beside him. The younger but taller boy runs off towards the house. You aren’t sure if it’s because you hit your head that you didn’t see the other boy or simply because your eyes haven’t left the dark chocolate ones staring into yours since your eyes opened. Your stomach is doing flips and your heart is racing.

“What's your name sweetheart?” he grins at you.

“Y/n” you reply in barely a whisper, mouth still feeling dry.

“I’m uh, I’m Eddie” he stammers out a light shade of blush tickling his cheeks and ears.

Eddie? Hmmm… the name doesn’t ring a bell. But why do you feel like you’ve known him before?

“Are you from Bridgeport?” You blurt out the annoying feeling of knowing someone but can’t remember where taking over.

You couldn’t explain it but there is no way this is your first time meeting him. You feel a powerful unearth like connection to him. Something past the soul, deeper than any ocean, seeing him fills you with a comfort you never knew was missing from your life and suddenly you feel complete.

“No, I’ve lived in Hawkins all my life.” Eddie replies, chuckling lightly. “But it's odd I feel that way too, like I’ve met you before but I can’t understand where.”

Eddie doesn’t know much about science or the Earth’s gravitational pull but this definitely feels like some sort of scientific reasoning as to why he feels this way. He can’t take his eyes off of you. You are both new to him but also recognizable. He’s certain he has never seen you before, he would have surely talked to you if he had. But the loud thumping in his chest is telling him that he knows you. Maybe on a different planet, a different plane. A spiritual one. He doesn’t know and doesn’t care, all he knows is that you’re the one his soul has been searching for. The love he wants to give and reciprocate is right in front of him, in a twist of fate.

You shiver under his gaze realizing how crazy this situation is. But you have yet to look away from him. You can see yourself in his eyes. Like someone is holding a mirror up and you are him, he is you. How can that be? How can you feel this way towards someone you quite literally are just meeting for the first time?

“So you’re not from Hawkins?” Eddie asks, licking his lips and squeezing into the van beside you. He crosses his long legs into a crisscross pretzel situation and you turn facing him. He searches his pocket for a lighter and grabs one of the joints from the baggies on the floor of the van. He holds the joint to his lips, keeping eye contact with you the entire time. He flicks the lighter and you watch as the end of the joint turns crimson and he inhales deeply, holding it in for a few seconds before rocking on his side to lean out of the open van doors, throwing his head back and exhaling into the open midnight sky.

If sex was a physical person to would be him. You have never seen anyone like him in your entire existence. You forget he asked you a question so he asks again.

“Ohh, s-sorry, no I’m uh— hah —- I’m from Bridgeport.” you stutter out. Mesmerized by his good looks.

Eddie blushes again looking at you, he thought for sure a couple hits from the joint would make him relax enough to stop staring or fumbling his words.

“Okay I’m sorry,” he blurts out, “I want to figure this out because it’s bothering me…how— how does it feel like I’ve known you my entire life? Where the hell did you come from? I’ve never seen you before but I also feel like I was meant to meet you.” Eddie says all in one giant breath.

“Y-yeah, me too, I think I know what you’re saying” you sit up on your knees leaning closer into him. “I’m going to ask some questions so we can figure this out”

“Let's do it,” Eddie says, clapping his hands together and rubbing them like a homeless man over a barrel of fire.

“Are you a senior?”

“Yes, third times the charm”

“Me too, only this is my first time, where do you work?”

“Jimmy’s Garage since I was 13, you? Sweetheart, don’t tell me you’re secretly Robert under there and you’re gonna Scooby Doo unzip yourself and scare the shit outta me!”

“No! Oh my God” you say laughing, Eddie is also laughing, his dimples poking out as he smiles. “I work at the Bridgeport pool, kinda a ‘if you can’t beat ‘em join em’ situation I didn’t learn to swim until I was almost 13, I almost drowned once” you admit.

“No way! No fucking way! I also almost drowned but I was a little younger and didn’t learn to swim until I was 12.” Eddie’s face lights up as he looks at you and he leans in a little closer.

Going back and forth for a few minutes you find out that he is in a band and plays at the Hideout, a small dive bar in south Hawkins. You tell him all about your life in Bridgeport, along with being a lifeguard you sometimes babysit on weekends.

So far, outside of the weird coincidences of both being afraid of dogs, and both having birthmarks on your inner elbows. Nothing is adding up. You have never been to the Hideout, nor did you even know that Hawkins had a mechanic shop. Eddie had been to Bridgeport once with his dad as a kid, but that was more than ten years ago. Again that rush of electricity is pounding in your chest, this is too weird, the similarities, the feeling of comfortability with him. Your heart is soaring, you have never felt this way about anyone in your life. It’s like you’re on the same page of a book that only you two have copies of.

Everything about him is drawing you closer to him, he smells like cheap cologne and muted cigarettes. He pulls the hand that’s holding the shirt to your head away to see if it’s still bleeding. His touch is gentle but fierce. Digging around in the back of the van he finds a water bottle and dumps it on the clean side of the shirt.

“I’m not sure if Will is crawling to the house and back but Uhh, hold still I’m gonna attempt some doctor shit” Eddie says giving you a wicked smile.

He cleans the blood away from your face, down your neck, and in your hair. The water is cold and feels good, you can feel his breath in your neck as he wipes it clean.

Your stomach starts to flutter as your mind wanders watching his tongue peek out from his lips in concentration. He is comforting like a warm blanket right out of the dryer. Eddie places his hands on either side of you leaning in, “there, good as new pretty girl” he says with a wink. You blush from his compliment and turn your face away. Eddie grabs your chin forcing you to look at him.

“I don’t know what kind of magnetic pull the universe is doing right now princess, I’ve been fighting this since the moment I laid eyes on you,and —fuck I can’t fight it anymore.” Eddie whispers.

Eddie grabs your face with both hands, his hands warm and the cold stinging of his rings bite at your cheeks, leaving a static currant pulsing from him to you. You feel almost animalistic in the way your body is responding to him. Like you don’t even have to think of what to do your body is ready for his next move. Without missing a beat you wet your lips and lean into him. Your consciousness is screaming a name into your head. But it’s muffled and you can’t make it out. Feeling Eddie’s lips on yours the name finally rings clear.

Steve

———————————————————————————

Taglist: @inourtownofhawkins 🫡🫡 @gathered-moss 🫡🫡

#eddie munson #stranger things #steve stranger things #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you smut #eddie x you #eddie x you fluff #eddie x y/n fluff #eddie munson boyfriend #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic

[coffeeheartaddict2]

Cruel summer

Book: Open heart (post series)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!mc Casey Ramsey; F!OC Christine Valentine, Tobias Carrick

Warnings: Mentions of pass pregnancy loss

Category: fluffy angst

Rating: Mature

Word count: 1578

Summary: It is five weeks after her missed miscarriage and instead of celebrating by announcing the news to the world, Casey is hit with another wave of grief as well a revelation from her mum Christine.

Disclaimer: non-original characters belong to Pixelberry.

Authors note: those who have read my fic Better days know that Casey is visited by her mum after her missed miscarriage. At the time I did not know if I would write a fic about this part but inspiration struck.

🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

It had been a warm summer by Bostonian standards, normally Casey would be making the most of the weather, beach days, romantic nights with her husband and bbq dinners with friends but this year was different. It had been five weeks when her world was turned upside down in the cruelest of ways. News of an unplanned but not unwanted pregnancy only to find out the next day that the baby did not survive.

The initial grief hit her hard, she even questioned if Ethan was going to stay. She thought she was turning a corner but then 5 weeks after having a d&c, her cycle came back, reminding her that her body had failed to sustain a new life and what hurt more is that if the pregnancy had stuck, they would be announcing to the world the happy news but instead she was sad, she was angry. Sad for what was lost and angry at herself for not being able to carry a baby to term. The doctor in her knew the statistics on miscarriage and how common they were and how little was known about the causes but it still did not quell her anger at herself. If anything it made it worse. Ethan was wracked with his own grief. There was a time he genuinely believed that he would never settle down and want have things like marriage and a family of his own but Casey was patient and understanding and showed him love that he thought himself unworthy of, this coupled with therapy to work through some of his issues and getting closure on why Louise abandoned him well, this helped him realize that he did want this life. It also hurt him to see Casey struggle with her grief too. They were in therapy together which was helping but grieving is never easy.

Casey’s mum Christine, finally made it to Boston to spend some time with her daughter. When her and Ethan called her and Michael about the miscarriage they were shocked and saddened. Christine wanted to be there right away but she decided to leave it a little bit. Christine had her own experiences with miscarriage but at this point it was unknown to her children and she wanted to give Casey some time before presenting this information. The flight from Oregon was pleasant and she stayed with Casey and Ethan.

Christine did expect her daughter to be sad, but she was not prepared for the anger that was accompanying the sadness.

“I understand being sad but why are you so angry?” Asked Christine timidly.

“If you had come last week I was better, truly but this week has been hard.” Replied Casey. Trying to hold back the tears.

“My cycle came back this week. That coupled with the fact that we would have been making an announcement this week…” Casey starts to cry.

Christine hugs her daughter and allows her to cry. After awhile Casey stops crying. “It just all feels so… so cruel. I know the baby was not planned, we had not even set a timeline for when we would start trying but the baby was wanted. I know I am more than just a breeding machine but I feel like that my body failed.”

Casey tries but fails to hold back more tears. “I know this happens, but the knowledge is not helping me.”

“My body has failed me too, sweetheart, more than once.

Casey looks at Christine, bewildered.

“What?”

“About fifteen months before you were born I had a miscarriage and I had another when Joel was 18 months old.”

“But why didn’t you say anything?”

“Firstly, until now it has never come up and secondly, is there an age appropriate way to tell your four year old and 18 month old that the reason why you are in pain is because you are losing a baby?”

Casey sat silently, in shock at what she had been told.

“We’re either of them like mine?”

“No sweetheart, I did not need surgery on either occassion.”

“Were you or dad upset or angry?”

Christine took a breath.

“Sad, of course I was but I do not recall being angry. The first time for us was like you and Ethan this time, a surprise but not unwanted. The second time I already had you and Joel so we took it as a sign that we were done.”

Casey nodded her head.

“How did you work through your grief and how did you decide to try again?”

“I just did what I needed to do. Yes I was sad but it is something that is not normally talked about…” Christine took a deep breath. “But I got through and that is what is important. As for trying again I can not answer for you.” Christine gave her daughter a hug and went into the kitchen to make a start on dinner.

Ethan arrived home and was greeted with the smell of a beef stroganoff. He greeted Casey and then made his way to the kitchen and greeted Christine. He was happy to see her, he knew how much Casey loved her family and she knew that the distance between Boston and Oregon made it difficult to see them. Christine asked how Ethan was going with everything. Ethan said he was going. Christine was happy to hear this. They enjoyed their meal and Christine turned in. Ethan and Casey sat out and enjoyed a warm evening on the balcony. Ethan could sense Casey was troubled.

“Mum told me today that she had two miscarriages, one before me and the other when I was four. I asked her how she got through and was she angry and how did you decide to try again. She said that she did what she had to go to get through but would not tell me about the decisions made to try again. I just feel so….so…. I don’t know.” Casey tries to hold back the tears but she failed.

“I would be lying if I said that I was not scared about the prospect of trying again, I do have anger but not towards you, at our profession yes, it is something we do not know the cause of yet we have made such great strides elsewhere. I am also scared that this will happen again.”

“This may be grief talk but do we try again?”

“Well not right now obviously. Not just because of the grief but whilst we are not it is a moot point.”

Casey nods in agreement.

“I love you, Ethan. Even though I am a hot mess right now…”

“You are my hot mess and we will come through this together. And I love you too.” He kisses the top of her head and she cuddles in close.

Over the coming days Casey processed her feelings. She also enjoyed having her mum around, despite the revelation, Casey started to again feel like that she was close to turning a corner again. Christine was also very heartened by how supported Casey was, not by Ethan but also her friends. She had met her friends at the engagement party and wedding so she knew how close but she was still heartened nonetheless. Casey’s six week appointment came and went. The surgery had gotten everything and Dr Watson was relieved that there was no adverse affects on her cycle with it coming back and being similar to what it was. She had the physical clearance to have intercourse but Casey still was not in the right headspace. Ethan was more than understanding and he was more than happy to have sexual intimacy happen on Casey’s timetable.

The time Christine spent in Boston flew by and before she knew it, the last weekend had arrived. Tobias invited Ethan, Casey and Christine over for a bbq. Ethan and Tobias got competitive about the food and the grilling but it was still fun and a lovely evening. Christine had never seen a competitive side to Ethan so it was a shock. Casey told her that it was par for the course with them but at least it was not toxic like it had become in medical school. Whilst the boys were cooking Tobias asked how they both were.

“Getting there, Casey has enjoyed having her mum here and I think it has been helpful. Everything was all good with Dr Watson but we are on Casey’s timetable now.”

“That is good news.”

It is Tobias, I understand her fear this time, I am scared too, it is grief that I am not in a hurry to relive.”

“That is understandable but I am sure you will have success at some point.”

“Thank you Tobias, I am glad we are friends again, don’t get me wrong it has been good having Casey’s friends…”

“I get what you mean. I am glad we are friends again too. It has sucks seeing you go through this but you will get through it.”

“Thanks Tobias, truly.” Both men embrace and get back to the bbq.

The next day Christine heads back to Oregon. It was confronting seeing her daughter so upset and angry but as the trip went on she understood why and most importantly she was loved, not only by Ethan but her friends and she was hopeful that like her, the next time she had news it will be happy and she would be a grandma.

———

Authors note 2. Casey’s anger is real, I know when I had mine it was frustrating because you Did not know the cause.

As regular readers know Casey and Ethan do have two children and no more miscarriages. If you read this far, thank you.

Tagging: @jerzwriter @jamespotterthefirst @cariantha @genevievemd @crazy-loca-blog @a-crepusculo @bex-la-get @trappedinfanfiction @youlookappropriate @potionsprefect @liaromancewriter @binny1985 @schnitzelbutterfingers @tessa-liam @socalwriterbee @lucy-268 @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

#open heart #ethan ramsey #choices fanfic writers creations #Ethan Ramsey x Casey Ramsey #choices #tobias carrick #fic of the week

[dxngelohxrris]

DI’ANGELO HARRISON  has been accepted to participate ! they are a 30 year old all the way from NEW YORK . HE is currently studying PHOTOGRAPHY at the interchange. ( tatia, 23, she/her, Michael B Jordan )

tw: domestic abuse / murder / verbal abuse / abandonment

DI’ANGELO  HARRISON    came into the world as a happy kid, his goofy smile evident during his school pictures but that all changed once he was old enough to realize that his mom tended to fall down a lot, though it was always after a heated argument with his father. DEREK HARRISON  was the ideal family man, devoted and caring but behind closed doors it was a completely different story. his mothers lessons ( as his father liked to call them ) become much more frequent, the smallest comment would set him off in the most powerful rage. his mother wasn’t safe and neither was he. 

after the aftermath of his fathers brutality, he would sit down next to his mother curing her wounds and never blaming her, always by her side. the more he leaned towards his mother, the worst thing got for him. his father became enraged and the bruises began to appear on grayson, though no one could believe that the matriarch of the charming family could ever do something so vile, di’angelo spoke out but no one truly believed him and if they did, his father had everyone in his pocket. 

weeks turned into months and months into years and the more that time passed, the more he  changed. More closed off he became and more violet towards some situations. one day coming home, he hears pleading and the commotion of things being thrown. he doesn’t have to speculate what’s going on, the help in the kitchen minds their business, but the worrisome look on their features is evident. he walks right past them and his mother is on the floor of his father study, bloody and lifeless. his father taunting him, his anger gets the best of him and everything just turns black. 

once he regains conciseness, he feels a pair of hands holding him back. his mother is on the floor, barely breathing. he doesn’t realize the amount of blood that’s covering his hands, his hands on the phone but its taken away by his father security. telling him that they needed to play this as a burglary and that’s exactly what happened, they played the grieving wife and son  part quite well. 

f his nightmare wasn’t over because in the back of his mind, he has flashbacks of the incident, his fist repeatedly pounding his fathers face and his fathers taunting prose ; you’re a monster just like I am .  those words echoed in his mind and played on a constant loop, maybe his father wasn’t wrong and grayson would be just like his father if not worse. though his mothers dedication to him was un matched, they remained well respected in the community &. shortly after her mother remarried, at first he was against him but as time passed, he noticed that she was happy &. that’s all that truly mattered. 

after taking ahold of his fathers business, being the heir to it all, he heard about interchange &. Maybe for once he could do something for himself. 

#interchangeintro #and here is my older sophisticared child #with abadoment issues. hes actually a good guy #lol

[wrenlorunderscore]

instagram | twitter

Our Michael :)

inspired by this cat post

#dream smp #dsmp #mcyt #ranboo #tubbo #beeduo #michael_beloved #michael fanart #michael is happy with his family they have not abandoned him for months i am not saying this to cope #wrenlor art

[creepypasta-headcanons]

How you met them

Jeff:

Your parents had to send you to a boarding school due to them being extremely busy with their jobs and them wanting a very intelligent and we'll behaved kid.

Well, things never went like that. Your first weeks in that place were decent, but with the passing of the days, the teachers started to show their true colors.

Some of them were nice, others way more strict but still friendly...and the PE teacher. The school assigned your group a male weird teacher, that was cool with you on your first classes, and then things got perverted.

You wanted to get out of that place and he was the main reason, but also your only hope. He said he would run away with you and be happy, and that's what you did...well, with the exception you tried to knock him out to have time to escape using a fire extinguisher, but it seems that you hit him way too hard in the head.

Luckily you were able to run away fast, and you decided to hide inside an old looking house. Karma, that house was the one where Jeff and his brother grew up together. Jeff was casually walking around the place, and he saw something moving.

He was ready to kill you but then he saw your face, your expression...your eyes.

There was murder in your eyes. Your soul was no longer pure.

“—What the fuck do you think you're doing inside my house? —”

“—GAH! I am so sorry, please, don't tell anyone I'm here...they'll lock me up oh my god. —” And then, you fainted. Jeff took a deep breath to calm his anger, and decided to take you to the Creepyhouse to torture you.

At the end of the day, he never harmed you. He literally just forgot that you were in his room chained up to the wall and your mouth covered with masking tape because Eyeless Jack wanted to show him a dead squirrel that he found earlier.

Later, he went to his room and decided that before killing you he would chat a little bit to know why were you inside his old home.

Nina:

You talked to her at school before, but when she appeared in the news something was extremely off.

"—Someone or something is watching me... —” you thought. The feeling was uneasy but somehow safe.

Later at night, you were laying in your bed crying. You missed Nina. A lot, even if you two chatted a little bit at school.

You were sobbing terribly.

“—...Nina, please...I hope you are okay now... —”

After that sentence, a very loud sound startled your ears. You sat up in your bed and looked at the door: Nina.

“—Please, come with me. We'll live a better life now. —” you had to admit that your decision was kinda weird and stupid. You were living a cool life now, why would you start another one with her?

Oh, yeah, probably because she is holding a knife to your throat.

Eyeless Jack:

You were carefully walking through the forest, looking for some animals to kill. This was your only source of food due to your house and family being far away from everything in a little abandoned town.

You found a rabbit and tried to shoot at it with a big rock but it ran away. You gave the first step to run behind it but unluckily you stepped on a trap that tied you to a nearby tree with a chain.

Three hours passed, and the sun was going down. You were extremely hungry, dizzy and scared. The fact that you heard heavy footsteps didn't help at all.

“—Oh, cool. —”, you heard someone say out loud.

“— Can you please get me te fuck out of here? I am so hungry I think I'm going to die, oh God. —” your stomach growled loudly.

The strange masked guy walked slowly to you, and lowered his head to your ear.

“— Would you eat... something weird? —”, okay, this dude's vibes are extremely off.

“— I'll eat anything. —” and with you saying this, he pulled from his blue hoodie something that looked like a human organ. Ok, now you were scared shitless.

“— E A T. —” he said while getting that thing in his hand closer to your mouth.

You ate it all. What the fuck.

He took you to an abandoned place and when he asked if you wanted to stay here you showed that you didn't really care about your family or friends, proving him that you are one of them.

Sally:

You had a sister that was similar to her, but one day, she was kidnapped from school. This bad news affected your whole family and life.

One family in particular never gave up. Nope, it wasn't your family, they were the Williams.

A couple that once had a beautiful and innocent child, a family that broke apart because of a dirty man that ruined their lives, a family nobody really talked to due to the depressed aura around them. A family that had a daughter.

You always loved them because of the way the acted towards you. They treated you like you were one of them. They told you about their dead daughter and why they wanted to help you.

Still looking for your sister, you decided to have some time alone, some distraction. You went to the graveyard to talk to Sally's tombstone to tell her what's happening right now and how you feel about it.

You found it. It was kinda isolated, away from the other graves. This one had dead tulips, now you're replacing them with fresh and beautiful white roses.

“— H-Hi, Sally...I... —” you felt dumb, and numb.

“— I wanted to talk to you about my life. I know we never met, but I'm pretty sure you were a beautiful and full of life young girl. Your parents miss you so much, and that's why I'm here. My little sister...she....she was kidnapped some month ago and I-I'm really scared about what could be happening to her right now and I-If she's being raped, or if someone is selling her, or...or...—”, the ambience was weird. You took a deep breath.

“— what if she's dead? —” you were sobbing right now.

Something poked your leg.

“— Let me help you. —” when you looked down, you were met by two beautiful green eyes. Sally is by your side.

“— Go to the Michael's Mafia House. He has your sister. I'll bring some friends to help you, okay?—” you hugged her. Her voice was similar to your little sister's one.

Sally disappeared and adrenaline was running through your veins. You went to your house and immediately started looking for one of your favorite knifes from your dad's collection. When you were passing by the living room, you saw your beloved mother lying on the old couch, staring at your sister's picture. You smiled.

You started running towards the place Sally told you to.

The friends she was talking about were some creepypastas, they helped you to get to the boss office and encouraged you to kill him, wich you did. And you enjoyed every single second of it.

At the end, you found the place were your sister was kept captive and freed her and the other people trapped in there. She had clear signals of abuse like the other victims. You felt so angry, but she was okay. Everything was going to be better now, right?

Well, no. The rest of the mafia started looking for you and your family, and they had to move. Things were never the same, you started killing all the guys that showed up to your door to harm your people, and this interested Slenderman.

You ended up visiting the creepyhouse once a month because you had to stay with your family to protect them from the mafia.

Slenderman:

This is the same story as Sally's one. Sometimes you bring your sister with you to play with Sally, and while they played you talked with Slenderman about a plan to get rid of all those mafia members.

He wanted to help since he saw your potential, but he thought that the fact you had to protect your family slowed down your progress at training to be a murderer.

You felt extremely satisfied when you killed, and this was the other reason why you wanted to keep training with him apart of wanting to protect your family at all costs.

_______

I'm sorry if there are some misspellings or weird incoherences, english is not my first language and I made this blog because I wanted to practice my English, writing and drawing skills all at once lmao

#creepyhouse #creepypasta headcanon #creepy house #headcanon #creepypasta x you #creepypasta x reader

[pennylanefics]

Promises - Isaiah Jesus

a/n: my first time writing for isaiah! pls be nice :) hope you like! there is a very angsty part 2 to this coming soon! also i’m taking requests for isaiah for my blurbs event!!

*gif not mine

•••

“What did Finn say when you told him you couldn’t come out tonight?” You ask, looking up at Isaiah from laying on his chest. He chuckles softly and his hand comes up to play with your hair.

“He was curious because I never turn down a night out at the pub.”

“You’ve never turned down a night out with him? Or with anyone? Or just yourself? Shocking.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re special, don’t push it.” A giggle bubbles in your throat and you sit up, his hand falling to your butt.

“Seriously. I appreciate you giving up a night to spend with me.”

“You’re my girlfriend,” he murmurs quietly. “If you ask to spend a night together, then I’m gonna do it. Plus, staying in and fucking you is so much better than having a drink.” Your cheeks heat up at the comment and you fall back onto your side, this time turned away from Isaiah.

“Oh come on! Don’t go shy on me, love!”

“Hush. I love you.”

“Love you too, darling.” He presses a few kisses to your neck before turning you over and pulling you on top of him.

“Care to go for another round?” He cheekily asks, that signature smirk on his lips. You can’t say no, obviously, and he flips you back over onto your back within seconds.

Finn and his brothers returned home towards three in the morning, you and Isaiah having gone to sleep hours ago. Thankfully, they knew not to mess with you or barge into your room while you were sleeping, so they didn’t see Isaiah in your bed.

The thing about being sort of related to the Shelby’s was you couldn’t really date people openly. You weren’t their biological sibling, but you were raised with them and grew up with them. Your parents abandoned you as a baby, dropping you off on the doorstep of Tommy’s parents’ home, and they took you in immediately.

So, Tommy and Arthur were bound to be protective of you, especially being younger than Finn, even if it was only by a year. You were the baby of the family, they don’t want you getting hurt or involved with some sketchy man.

But Isaiah is different. You’ve been secretly dating for a while now, and you are madly in love with one another. He was so caring and made sure you were happy and taken care of. It was a change for him as well, having gone from sleeping with multiple girls in a week, to only wanting to see and be with you.

“Morning,” you say, stepping into the kitchen where the Shelby brothers and Ada were sitting. They all glance up at you suspiciously.

“What’s…up?” You ask cautiously, grabbing a cup of coffee.

“Why’d you stay in last night?” Finn begins.

“I didn’t feel like going out and watching you guys get trashed.”

“What’s the matter with that, eh?” Arthur jokes, laughing with John, making you roll your eyes.

“Nothing’s wrong with it, but I wasn’t feeling like getting dressed and going out.”

“So you stayed home, in bed, naked?” You almost spit your coffee out at Finn’s remark.

“Finn, what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” You bite back.

“Don’t say shit like that about her, Finn,” Tommy steps in, flipping the page of the newspaper he was reading.

“All I’m saying is whenever I don’t feel like going out someplace, it’s because I have a girl back home waiting for me to fuck her.”

“What are you insinuating, huh?”

“You have a secret lover. Perhaps...a certain Peaky Blinder?” This of course catches everyone’s attention. You knew Finn was about to blurt out your secret.

“Finn? What are you talking about?” Ada asks. Finn raises his eyebrows at you and crosses his arms.

“Our little sister here is dating Michael.” You feel a huge relief lift from your shoulders. He suspected the wrong man.

“I’m not dating Michael,” you confirm, staring Finn down as he continued to press the topic.

“Michael’s our cousin, and she’s basically our sister. Isn’t that a bit weird?” John points out. You thank her and take a sip of your coffee.

“Okay then. Who are you seeing? Because it’s definitely someone? You’ve been happier and less stressed, so you’re obviously fucking someone?”

“Finn, what did I say?” Tommy chides his younger brother. Sighing, you go to respond with the truth, but before you can even get a word out, Isaiah steps into the kitchen, his hands reaching out for yours.

“She’s not dating Michael. She’s dating me. And I love her just as much as she loves me,” he says, keeping his eyes on you, in fear of the looks the Shelby’s would be giving him.

On the other hand, your eyes were wide in shock, glancing between Isaiah and your family.

“Isaiah, what-”

“Is this true?” Tommy speaks up, standing and walking around the table to lean against the counter, staring at you two intensely.

“Yes,” you mumble, bowing your head in embarrassment. This was not how you wanted to reveal your relationship, but here you are.

“For how long?”

“Seven months,” Isaiah responds. Everyone at the table gasps softly, surprised that you of all people could keep a secret for that long.

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” John speaks up, a slight hint of hurt in his voice.

“Because my love life is no one’s business besides mine and my partner. Why does it matter if I’m dating someone?”

“She’s right,” Tommy says, shrugging his shoulders.

“No,” Arthur decides to chime in. “We do have a right to know who she’s dating and seeing.”

“No we don’t. It’s something we would LIKE to know in case she’s in any danger, but we don’t have a right to that information. If she feels safe and secure, we should trust her.”

“She’s just a child!” John shouts. You scoff and Isaiah pulls you closer to him by your waist.

“I’m twenty years old, John! I’m not a child anymore. Also, I’m not even technically your sister, so why should it matter?”

“Because even though you’re not related to us, we see you as a sister. We care for you, we want you to be happy, and we want you to be safe.”

“Well, I am. I am safe, and I am happy. Isaiah makes me insanely happy and I love being with him.” You glance over at your boyfriend and find that he is staring at you.

“I love you,” he whispers. You smile and lean in to give him a sweet kiss, forgetting that the Shelby’s were still around you.

“That’s enough,” Finn cringes, making Ada laugh.

“Can’t handle that your good mate and honorary sibling are in a relationship before you?” Everyone laughs as Finn’s face turns bright red in embarrassment.

“Isaiah, you better keep this girl safe and protected. It’s obvious she loves you and I don’t want to see her hurt,” Tommy tells Isaiah.

“I promise. I think we’ve been good so far, right?” You nod in response and take a hold of your boyfriend’s hand.

“He’s treated me so well, Tom. I doubt he’d ever hurt me.”

“Well, you never know.”

#isaiah jesus #isaiah jesus imagines #isaiah jesus imagine #isaiah jesus x reader #peaky blinders #jordan bolger #imagines #fanfiction #fanfic

[whiskery-louis]

Priorities *part 2*

I am so sorry for the delay but I was on vacation and just had a very few busy days! Here is part 2 of Priorities, I am planning a part 3 for sure possibly a part 4! Please please let me know what you think!

part 1

“We came backstage and you were just gone. One text saying you needed a break? That’s all we were worth to you? Is that all I was worth to you Y/N? I thought we could be something, but you never gave me a chance. You just bailed. And now we show up after all this time and you have a kid? I can’t believe it. I just-I just need to know. Am I the dad?”

“Wait what?” I stared at him in disbelief, trying to stifle a laugh because of how serious he was.

“Don’t laugh at me Y/N I’m serious. Unless you were fucking other guys it’s obvious why you left. You got pregnant, and you got scared so you ran. I just don’t know why you wouldn’t tell me. It's not just your life that was affected.”

I took a step towards him and he didn’t pull back. I reached out and pulled his hands into mine.

“Luke, I’m not laughing at you. I can see how serious you are, but the baby isn’t mine.”

“It’s not?” I turned to see Calum, Mikey and Ashton standing between the kitchen and the front room.

“We didn’t mean to listen, but you guys were right there and there is no door…” Ash trailed off.

I sighed knowing it was finally time to tell them the truth. I gestured for them all to sit around the dining table as I grabbed the glasses Luke left by the sink. I left the boys, chose what they wanted to drink and grabbed a few snacks out of the pantry in case anyone was hungry. Just as I was about to sit down the baby started crying. I sighed looking at the boys.

“Give me a few minutes to get him up and then I’ll explain everything. I promise.”

Luke

I couldn’t believe that after all this time I was here sitting in her house. It was a nice house, but it was still weird to think of Y/N spending all her time here raising a baby. There were baby toys all over the place, a pile of clothes overflowing from the laundry room around the corner and baby bottles stacked next to the sink. As I looked around though, there were still little pieces that showed she lived here too. Her worn out vans lay just inside the door, half empty water bottles gathered on the island, blankets covering every inch of the couch. They were all things that unmistakingly said Y/N.

I never believed her excuse of needing a break from touring, she loved everything about being on the road. And selfishly I thought she enjoyed spending time with me. I don’t know when things changed between us, but one night we were drinking with the rest of the boys and I was walking her back to her room and the next morning I woke up next to her. We promised to keep it casual but after a few weeks of hooking up she started spending the nights in my room; we talked about everything during those early morning hours and it was then that I realized she was someone special. I knew that I wanted us to be more and I was planning on taking her out on the town after our New York show, but we stepped off the stage and she was gone.

I was devastated, and the boys did what they could to cheer me up but they had all sensed a change in me the months prior. So when Calum suggested we pay Y/N a visit with our week off I jumped at the chance to figure out why she really left. We were all curious as to her reason for leaving, she used to talk about nothing but being on the road and all the things she planned to do when the tour ended. And not once did she mention settling down. It was bizarre when we found out she had bought a house in a small neighborhood outside the city. During our late night talks she always said that she couldn't fall asleep without the sounds of the city right outside her window.

“So if it’s not her kid, what is going on here?” Michael broke the silence, looking around the table before settling his eyes on me. I looked up and realized all three of them were staring at me.

“What?” I mumbled, slightly uncomfortable under their gaze.

“You knew her best Luke, did she ever mention anything?” Cal asked.

“You think I wouldn’t have told you guys? I’m as shocked as all of you.”

It was silent again as we all sat with our thoughts waiting for Y/N to come back out. When she opened that door yelling about waking up a baby my heart stopped. Out of all the scenarios that ran through my head the last six months I never thought Y/N had a baby. My heart dropped to my stomach and I couldn’t believe that she would leave and not tell me about something as big as a baby. But now she’s saying it’s not hers? I’ve never been more confused and craving answers. My anxiety was through the roof, I couldn't stop bouncing my knee and chewing at my already chipped red nail polish.

“Luke you can relax,” Ashton broke the silence. “She said the baby’s not her, which means it's not yours.”

“I know,” I sighed, “It all just made sense when I thought she left because she had a baby. I just need to know the truth.”

Reader POV

“Okay it’s gonna be okay buddy.” I sighed as I was changing him. “There are some friends downstairs waiting to meet you. And I know you don’t understand what I’m saying but I feel like I am going to lose my mind if I don’t get this off my chest. I’ve run over this scenario so many times little buddy but I did not expect this when we woke up this morning. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy you get to finally meet your super cool uncles.” He laughed up at me as I tickled his stomach before I pulled his clean shirt over his head. “And ya know Luke is still just as handsome as I remember.”

I quietly made my way down the hallway to see if I could overhear the boys talking. I was curious as to what they thought the explanation was going to be. I could hear mumbling but nothing concrete. I took a deep breath as I made my way down the stairs and into the kitchen. I pulled the high chair up to the table and put the baby in it with some cut up bananas to eat. I sat down next to him and turned to the boys.

There was an awkward silence as they all stared at me waiting for an explanation. I took a second to take this all in, not believing that they were all sitting in my kitchen.

“Well boys...this is my nephew Wesley.” I ruffled my hand through his hair. “My sister gave birth to him about a year ago and then she just up and left six months ago. He had no one else to raise him so I had to come back for him. I’m the only family he has.”

All four of the boys looked from Wes back to me. I could see the surprise on their faces, Ashtons’ jaw was even hanging open. Luke was the one who spoke first.

“You never told us about your sister.”

A small frown formed on my face, “We were never close. Heather is a few years older than me and was never around when I was younger. She always fought with my mom and when she turned 16 she left home. She didn’t even come back for my mom's funeral. I never really forgave her for that, but when she reached out to me about a year ago telling me she had just given birth I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. Mostly because I missed having a family and I had always wanted to be an auntie.”

“Weren’t we family enough?” Luke interrupted me.

I glanced from him to the rest of the boys and saw the hurt etched across their faces, making my regret my choice of words.

“I didn’t mean it like that, you guys were the family I always wished for when I was younger. And even though she abandoned me just like our dad abandoned us, she was still my sister. I was so excited when I found out I was an aunt as well, Heather and I were talking again and how could I not want to be in this guy's life? I mean just look at him.” I smiled as I looked over at Wes who was still enjoying his bananas.

“Where is your sister now?” Cal asked.

I sighed, “I don’t know. Six months after she gave birth she left, just like our dad did to us and I just, I just couldn’t let him fall into the system. I’m all he has. I never wanted to leave you,” my eyes met Luke’s, “...guys or the tour, let alone without telling anyone but I knew if you guys knew about Wes you would try and convince me to bring him on the road, and I would’ve stayed because that’s all I wanted to do. But it’s not about me anymore, I have to do what is best for Wesley and he deserves to have a normal childhood. Well as normal as I can give him seeing as I’m not his mother. I’m sorry for how I left, but I’m not sorry that I left.”

It was silent when I stopped talking, I looked around the table to see all the boys processing what I had told them. I knew it was a shock finding me here raising a baby that wasn’t mine but I was glad that I finally told them the reason behind me leaving.

Wes started fussing now that he finished his snack, I turned to pick him up but Michael was already jumping out of his seat.

“Let his cool Uncles play with him Y/N,” he picked Wes up out of his highchair, tickling his stomach and making him giggle. Michael laughed too as he carried him into the living room. Calum and Ashton stood up to follow him.

“I’m gonna be his favorite ya know,” Cal winked at me as they left.

“We’re just glad you’re okay Y/N, anything we can do to help we will. For now the three of us will keep him busy while you two take some necessary time to talk.” Ashton gave a small smile to me and Luke who were left sitting at the table.

I turned to Luke who was sitting with his head in his hands. I placed my hand on his forearm causing him to look up at me. “Let’s go outside okay?”

He nodded his head, a slight smile on his lips as he took my outstretched hand and followed me as I led him out to the small patio off the kitchen. He made sure to close the door tight knowing the boys would eavesdrop if possible. I pulled him down on the small couch next to me. I had so many things I wanted to say to him but I owed him enough to start the conversation. His hand remained in mine as we sat in silence, I lightly traced the tattoos on his wrists. He hummed slightly causing me to look up and see him smiling at me.

“I miss that feeling, your fingers tracing patterns all over me. It’s like you leave a trail of fire every time you touch me.” I felt my face flush, I looked back down and began drawing circles on the back of his hands. “I’ve missed you so fucking much Y/N, I thought you left because of something I did. I know we always said we would keep it casual but fuck I haven’t been the same since you left.”

“Fuck Luke I didn’t know you felt that way. You did nothing wrong. I just couldn’t bear to say goodbye to you in person. I felt the same way about you when I left, I didn’t want to keep being casual I wanted to be yours-”

Luke pressed his lips to mine, cutting me off mid sentence. I melted into him like no time had passed. I forgot how it felt to kiss him, it was a drug I couldn’t get enough of. I moved my hands to the back of his neck and pulled him closer to me. His hands went to my waist and the next thing I knew I was sitting on his lap. I pulled back and rested my forehead against his.

“I missed you Y/N, so fucking much.”

“I missed you too Luke, a lot. But you need to know we can’t just go back to how things were. I need to put Wes first and you have the band.”

“But you just said you wanted to be mine,” he looked at me with a mixture of hope and sadness in his eyes. This was exactly why I couldn’t say goodbye in person.

“Key word being wanted. My whole life is different now Luke, I’m not the same person that I was six months ago.”

“So what are we supposed to do?”

I climbed off Luke and reached out my hand, “We go hang out with Wes so he can get to know his Uncle Luke. And then you go back on tour, I stay here and raise Wes and you visit every once in a while with the boys. It's not ideal but at least we’ll still see each other every so often. I’m sorry Luke, but it’s just how it has to be.”

#luke imagine #luke hemmings #luke hemming imagines #ashton imagine #ashton irwin #michael imagine #michael clifford #5sos #5sos imagine #5sos preference #calum imagine #calum hood #cal #lucas #five seconds of summer #5 second of summer imagines #5 seconds of summer #luke au #imagine luke #imagines #luke x reader #luke x y/n #luke hemmings x you

[writeroutoftime]

home

pairing: tommy shelby x reader (requested by: @imaginesbymk​) 

summary: during a late night at work, tommy finds that he can’t focus, so he heads to the one person he wants to be near

warnings: none 

words: 1091

a/n: alright, I’m back, and I am so sorry for how long this took! MK you are literally amazing for waiting so long for this story. I feel terrible for how long it took, but i hope this is what you were looking for! please enjoy and have a lovely day!! (also, happy birthday cillian murphy!)

oOoOo

The clock ticked incessantly as Tommy shuffled through his papers for the nth time that evening. He rubbed his eyes when the numbers began to blend to together, but to little avail. One glance at the clock told him that it was quarter past ten, when most of the other Blinders had left not too long after five to either head home or to the Garrison. 

Even John, Arthur, and Michael had only stayed with Tommy for so long before they themselves had called it a night. But Tommy – as stubborn as he was – claimed he needed to stay back and redo some of the books. Though at the rate he was making mistakes, he would need to fix them again tomorrow night.

Instead of the numbers in front of him, the one thought Tommy’s mind continued to focus on was you – your sweet smile and warm arms, always ready to accept him. The past six months proved to be a strong start for your relationship, but the previous two weeks had been extremely busy on both sides; him with both the legal and not so legal sides of the business, and you with your grades and lesson plans for your students. Now he wished he had taken you up on your offer for dinner at your place that evening.

Each time that Tommy was away from you, he ached to be near you once more. There was something about you that drew him to you from the moment you moved to Small Heath. It had been your laugh that he had first noticed. It was infectious in a crowd, and even made him show a rare smile from time to time. To him, that sound meant you were safe and happy, something he always wanted for you. And even early into the relationship, Tommy knew that sound was home to him.

The more he thought about it, the more he imagined how enjoyable his night would have been if the two of you had gone to the Garrison. He would have ordered two whiskeys, then sat down in his usual booth, with you tucked in his lap. All the while he would pretend to listen to his family’s antics, as he would actually focus on the way you would play with the hair at the nape of his neck and temporarily make all of his worries and anxieties disappear.

“This is ridiculous.” Tommy finally muttered to himself, shoving papers into his briefcase. He rushed through the empty office to turn off all the lights and lock up before he drove off to your apartment.

Once he pulled in front of your house, Tommy walked to the door but hesitated before he knocked. While he was usually calm, collected and confident, there was something about being with you that made his heartbeat quicken and made him feel almost giddy in a way he hadn’t felt since before the war. Before he could make a decision on if he should knock on your door or abandon all hope, you made it for him.

“Tommy, what are you doing here?” you asked, surprised to see him on the other side of your door.  

He hesitated. “Well, I-um.” he cleared his throat and tried again. “I needed a quiet place to think and balance these books.” he explained, coolly, though you could see through his excuse.

“Is that all?” you teased but opened your door regardless to invite him inside. “Whiskey to help you think?” you asked as he settled at your table.

“Please.” he nodded.

A comfortable silence followed as Tommy scratched his pen along the books, balancing their contents and fixing any mistakes the previous bookkeeper had made. All the while, you shuffled through your own pages – essays your students had written last week that needed to be returned within the next day or so. Every few minutes, you heard the scrape of the chair against your floor, and it appeared that Tommy kept getting closer and closer to you. Each time he did so, you pretended to ignore your boyfriend’s actions and hid a smirk. 

This continued until Tommy was close enough to brush his leg against your own. When you still didn’t offer a response, Tommy sighed, and suddenly stood up and walked over to your couch, glass of whiskey in his hand. He sat down and looked around for a moment before he met your eye with a smirk. “Why don’t you take a break, y/n?” 

You cocked your head to the side, but finally gave into Tommy by walking closer to him. Once you were within arm’s reach, he stretched out and grabbed your hand to pull you down into his lap. A giggle escaped your lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck to steady yourself. There was a moment of silence as Tommy placed his face into the crook of your neck, and he felt the stress of the day melt away.

“It looks like I’m not going to be grading any papers tonight.” you whispered and fully allowed yourself to relax into Tommy’s embrace.

“And I’m not going to balance any of those books,.” he teased, pressing a small kiss to your collarbone. Now it was you who was all flustered.

“Maybe you should come to my place to think more.” you suggested as you gently grabbed Tommy’s hand and interlaced your fingers.

“Maybe I will.” he shot back. Eventually, his free hand brushed against check and a smile graced your face as you heard him whisper, “I missed you, y/n.”

Tommy wasn’t one to regularly give affection, but he was always genuine when he did. You understood that the past two weeks had been just as busy for him as they had for you. It was hard being away from each other, but moments like those reminded you that the hard times were worth it. “I missed you too, Tommy.” you confessed and kissed the corner of his lips.  

The two of you stayed like that for the rest of night, small snippets of conversation here and there, but there was mainly a comfortable silence as you both enjoyed the other’s presence. Tommy memorized the feel of your skin against his and made sure not to forget how your y/e/c eyes sparkled as you told him about your day. All the while, Tommy wondered when it would be acceptable to ask you to be his wife, because he never wanted to be without you - for you were his home. 

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine

[june-louise]

A rarity of a moment

Fan fiction about Elizabeth and Philip from The Crown (set sometime after 1x06), just because I ship them and felt the urge to write a little something for the first time in years. 

....

Elizabeth gave a small sigh as she picked up the speech she was supposed to give in a few hours. She hoped the changes she instructed had been added to the notes and as she read through the appropriate and well induced sentences about the opening of the children’s centre in Nottingham, she smiled to herself as she discovered that this time the speech actually felt quite good. Perhaps it had something to do with the passionate and driven men and women who has initiated this important installation, she pondered as her eyes flickered through the speech. Her fingers played with the pearls around her neck as she memorised the words best she could even though her eyes were quite tired after hours of paperwork already. The last couple of months had been a whirlwind of work and there had been little time to reflect on the life-changing turn her whole life had taken when becoming the Queen of England. One day at a time, tackling one task at a time had been made her epigraph.

A knock on the wooden door disturbed her focus and Michael apologetically joined her temporary office. “Sorry to disturb, your Majesty.”

Elizabeth briefly looked up. “What is it, Michael?”

Her private secretary uncomfortably cleared his throat. “It’s the Duke, ma’am.” His words made Elizabeth abandon the speech and lift her gaze to the man approaching her desk.  “Apparently his Royal Highness and Mr Avison Parker has been in a small car accident. No major injuries reportedly, but-” he paused and nervously studied her reaction. Elizabeth lifted her eyebrow, her lips tight as she gave him her full concentration, the icy blue in her eyes giving way to no emotion. She had become some expert of concealing her true feelings. Michael continued, “caution has been made and they are both with the doctor. It seems as if Mr Avison Parker has injured his arm and ribcage, while His Royal Highness luckily escaped any injuries. Unfortunately, the press has taken notice, but we are working on it, ma’am, so it will hopefully not make it into tomorrow’s papers.”

Elizabeth tightened her jaw. “I see,” she began and stood from the chair by the desk, straightening her skirt before walking toward the window. Rain smattered against the glass, the wind strong outside.

“We have arranged for a phone call, ma’am.” Michael gestured to the phone placed next to the abandoned notes on the desk.

Elizabeth felt her arms tighten, taking a deep breath as she contained her emotions. “Yes, of course.” She walked up to the desk yet again and paused when reaching for the phone. “Thank you, Michael.” The man gave a nod before leaving the room, carefully closing the doors behind him, off to make sure the issue was being handled properly.

She took a deep breath before lifting the phone to her ear. “Yes,” she said with the voice of a true aristocrat.

“Elizabeth,” her husband carefully started on the other end of the phone, his voice sounding quite small. “I am sorry. I am fine.”

“So I hear.”

“We were just driving, and some idiot had placed a bicycle in the middle of the road. Mike made sure I was protected and pretty much took the whole hit himself, poor boy.”

She let him talk for a few more moments, his excuses not moving her in the slightest. “Elizabeth?” Philip tried after a while when noticing that she had yet to say another word. “You still there?”

“Had you been drinking,” she suddenly blurted out, voice annoyed and accusing. When there was no immediate respond, she continued. “Of course you had. What were you thinking? Have you any idea to what extent this could cause a scandal,” she spat, her voice harsh and menacing. “They already hate us and are just waiting for us to make a mistake. We cannot afford to make mistakes, Philip.”

“I know,” he got out before she continued, interrupting his apologies, once again letting him know that she was Queen and he was not.

“You really should know better. Do you even think about your children and what your reckless behaviour could lead to, them not growing up with a father.” She knew she was crossing a line and was acting quite mean, but she could not stop herself, the anger consuming her entire being. Did he not understand what pressure she already was under, what scrutiny their lives were doomed to hold? She refused to let him or anyone else, let alone Mike, jeopardize the monarchy or their family like this.  

Philip took his opportunity to interrupt when she paused to breathe, letting her know his hurt feelings. “I told you I was sorry. And quite frankly, I was hoping you at least be happy I was not hurt. But guess I was hoping for too much from my wife.”  He spoke the last word with an irritated and hurt spat and continued. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I shall speak to the doctor. See you when you get home.”

Before she could reply he had ended their call and Elizabeth was left standing with the silent phone held to her ear. She felt a sting of hurt but quickly brushed it off, composing herself and putting the phone down while returning to her seat by the desk and the speech. She was queen after all, and composure was her expertise.

 ….

 While the rain smattered onto the umbrella being held over her head, Elizabeth curled her lips into a content smile as she welcomed the applause from the crowd in front of her. As true Englishmen, no one seemed too bothered by the weather as they clapped while the rainfall caused their coats and hats to turn into a darker shade of grey and black. It was in these moments she felt proud of her country and seeing all these people gathered, not only to meet and listen to her, but to celebrate the hard work of this fine children’s centre the whole community had helped create in a common belief and hope of the future.

Making her way down the stage, ushered through the crowd stopping every once in a while to shake hands and be introduced to left and right, thanked and cheered she kept her head high and her smile as bright as she could. These people deserved it, they deserved to be seen by their sovereign.

“Thank you for coming, your Majesty,” they said with a bow or a curtsey.

As she made her way closer to the awaiting car, Elizabeth’s eyes caught onto a blonde woman who seemed to be her own age. She approached the woman who gave her a kind smile.

“Hello,” Elizabeth said in her most charming voice.

The blonde woman made curtsey respectfully before speaking, her voice revealing a gentleness which made the queen soften. “It’s an honour to meet you, your Majesty.”

“Likewise,” Elizabeth smiled, with a hint of uncomfortableness as she shook the woman’s dainty hand.

“If I may, ma’am,” the blonde carefully started with obvious shyness yet determination. “I would like to tell you that I have always admired you so. We are the same age, you see, and I married my husband the same year as your Royal wedding. I was so proud to be his wife.” The woman beamed, and Elizabeth could not help but reciprocate the gesture.

“Thank you,” Elizabeth replied, and not sure what to say but wanting to give the kind woman something, she continued. “Congratulations then on your 6th anniversary this year.”

The woman’s hazel eyes saddened for a moment but then lit up again while she spoke. “Sadly, I lost my husband a year ago. But I am always reminded of him, and all our happy times, whenever I see you, your Majesty, and your husband. Thank you for reminding me of him, and for giving us all such joy.”

For a quick moment Elizabeth let an insecure and vulnerable look escape her strong façade, and she gave a sad smile. “I am so sorry.”

“Don’t be, ma’am. We had good years, and we have a little boy who looks just like his father.” There was something angelic over the woman’s face and Elizabeth envied her joy, at the same time as she pitied her painful loss.

Taking her hand into her gloved one yet again, Elizabeth gave it a light press before letting go and being ushered into the car. As the car drove away, she made one last wave to the people, and watched the blonde woman through the back window. It was rare that she met with strangers like this anymore, she thought and pondered about the small conversation she had just had.  

….

An hour later Elizabeth was all dressed up in a sapphire dress, as she joined a dinner held at the city hall. She tried her best to keep her appearance, as she always must, but felt her thoughts more than once drift back to the woman she had met and the words she had spoken about her husband. Elizabeth felt a sting of guilt for having her husband safe and sound, while this obviously wonderful woman had lost hers. Yet the woman had had such a grateful and positive way of being, while Elizabeth acted cold and dismissive toward her husband.

She and Philip for sure had had their problems since her entering the throne, but lately it all seemed to have become worse. They barely saw each other, and when they did it was often during formalities or in argument over something. She could not remember the last time they had shared an evening together, or even yet shared bed. It was all so complicated, living a married life in Buckingham palace.

She made a deep sigh of relief as the dinner finally ended and localised Michael where he stood by the corner of the ballroom. “I want to go home, Michael. Please arrange for me to go home as soon as possible.” Her words came as a bit of a surprise to her, the spontaneity to have made such a drastic decision before she even had come to understand why she felt such an urge to return home at this late hour being somewhat unusual.

Michael, if feeling the same surprise, hid it well and simply nodded and made his way to make the arrangements while the queen paid the respects and thanked everyone for the warm welcome and the wonderful dinner, ever the daunting queen.

….

The familiar smell of portraits and perfectly polished carpets filled her nose as she climbed the stairs to her private quarters. She had dismissed her maid, making sure everyone leave her and Philip alone for the night.

Closing the dark wooden doors behind her, she let out a shaky breath and stepped out of her shoes as to not make any noise to wake Philip who was asleep since a few hours already. The clock on the wall let her know it was a good few hours past midnight. Philip’s door to their adjoining hall was open and she quietly stepped into his bedroom. It was embedded in darkness except from the moon sweeping a dim light through the window curtains.

Philip was sound asleep she heard, his soft breathing being the only noise filling the room. He had never been a snorer, even after nights out drinking, and she was reminded of how long it had been since she has listened to him sleep. She carefully stepped closer to his bed, cautious not to make the old wooden floor creak.

It was not like her to give into this urge to see him, lately she did not even know if she had felt this urge. Yet now it was there. Something about the woman losing her husband and speaking of their happy years, reminded her of her own affection to Philip. An affection which was always there, even though she had not let it bother her lately. Now though, it felt as if it consumed her.

Philip, her Philip, in his navy blue pyjamas never looked more sweet. The way he was so still and quiet reminded her of happier times. Of years lost to duty and sacrifice.  

She felt her throat thicken, swallowed and as not to wake him up she quietly made her way back to her own bedroom.

Undressing from the dress she had insisted to keep on in order to save time, she got rid of her stockings and undergarments. She lifted the white nightgown over her head and removed the jewellery, wanting to get rid of all the things Elizabeth the queen had to wear.

She made her way to her dressing table to remove her makeup. While moving her fingers over her face in the well-practiced routine, her eyes are caught on the one jewel that she had kept on, glimmering in the mirror. Her engagement ring. She never takes it off, even after all these years and even after all the fights. It is her most beloved possession. It represents who she was when she was someone to fall in love with, to choose this life with despite all of the sacrifices. She needs to remind herself of that girl, Lilibet, because sometimes she seems so far away these days.

As she sees a glimpse of that girl in the mirror, hot tears form in her eyes, and she closes them shut while gently tugging at the ring on her finger. A single tear find itself down the alabaster skin of her cheek. The words from before tug at her heart. “I married my husband the same year as your Royal wedding. I was so proud to be his wife.”

An urge to go to her husband fill her entire body and she rises, wiping her tear and dabbing at her eyes before abandoning her room to again open the adjoining doors. She pushes her pride aside and open the doors to Philip’s room for the second time that night.

Greeted by darkness, she must wait for a few moments before her eyes get used to the surroundings and she can see the form of her husband on the bed. She can hear his soft breathing and walks close, stepping out of her slippers and carefully sit on the bed, bringing her legs up under her. Philip does not move so she gently lift her hand to brush against his where is rests on top of the covers. She has always adored his strong body and been a victim under his touch. As her fingers dance over his hand, up over his arm and back again, Philip moves and rolls onto his side, burying his head deeper into the pillow. He looks so innocent when he sleeps, she thinks and tries to remember the last time she studied him like this. She cannot remember. She has missed it. To be near him like this. They seldom sleep in the same bed anymore. Most nights she does not think much about it, but every once in a while, when she goes to bed without him, when he is god knows where out with Mike, a sadness lingers over her. She does miss her husband, and the days where they would share bed every night.  

“I am always reminded of him, and all our happy times, whenever I see you, your Majesty, and your husband.”

The thought of losing the man sound asleep beside her, makes her heart ache. Not only the accident which could have been far worse, but the fact that her position as queen has sent Philip away from her to a place where he is happier without her causes the wetness to return to her eyes. Lifting the covers, Elizabeth carefully slips underneath, and curls close to the only person in the world her heart belongs to and has ever belonged to. Her forehead rest against his and she clings her hand to his, bringing it to her lips and pressing a tender kiss against the soft skin. The action causes Philip to stir and as he wakens, he opens his eyes, confused at first.

“Elizabeth,” he murmurs in question and blinks the sleep from his eyes. Blue eyes meet each other there in the bedroom, for the first time in very long. “Why aren’t you in Nottingham?”

She swallows and shifts on the bed, her gaze falling on his entangled hand in hers. She watches his fingers intertwine with hers and feel him shift slightly so that his other arm moves around her body, gently pulling her against him so that he lays on his back and she is rolled against him on her side. Feeling her throat thicken again and the hotness burn behind her eyes, Elizabeth cannot make a sound in fear of bursting into tears. “I’m sorry,” she finally mouths in a whisper and release a shaky breath while lifting her gaze to meet his.

She is met by a rare gentleness in his eyes and she feels more vulnerable than she has felt in a long time. She cannot make herself say the words but hope her eyes can signal her apology. Philip, too, is a proud man and their communication is seldom made with many words. Yet she feels as if she should say something, anything, to make him understand the way she feels. Her lip suddenly quivers, and she curses her inability to control her emotions. “I miss you,” she releases and gives into the sob that bangs at her chest for release. Her vision gets blurry and she finds herself embraced into the warmth and comfort of her Philip, strong arms wrapping around her and soft lips pressing a kiss to her head as she rests her face into the crook of his neck. She is filled with his scent and with every shaky inhale it fills her up with a calmness and comfort she has not given herself permission to need lately.

“I miss you, too, my Lilibet,” Philip whispers into her hair.

#the crown #queen elizabeth ii #duke of edinburgh #prince philip #claire foy + matt smith #matt smith #claire foy #fanfic

[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.16}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 5.3k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

"May I ask you something you might find rather odd?"

"Don't you always?" Robin chuckled softly. "You can ask and say anything at all, you know that. Odd isn't a thing between us anymore."

"Why does your hair smell so insufferably much like pineapple? You don't even like pineapples."

For a broken second, Robin was so surprised by the indeed quite unexpected question that she didn't react at all, then however she had to snort and finally just started laughing. Gods, what a question… whether he had meant to take the edge off the situation or not, his inquiry certainly had done just that. In a sudden mutual agreement that it might be better to let go of each other –better for whom, one might ask– they both removed their tight hold from the other and Robin took a tiny step backwards. Not enough to call it an appropriate distance, really, but enough to look at each other's faces again.

"I, uh…" She started, once she had more or less stopped laughing, and finally folded the letter and the permit back into the envelope. "I haven't really had the money to buy new shampoo after I'd run out, so I first borrowed from Jorien for half a month, and now ever since the beginning of October I've been borrowing from Cas, who unfortunately loves pineapples. That's why I smell like one currently."

"I see… Curious how I haven't noticed it before."

"Well, we don't really… get that close to each other so often." Robin shrugged, trying to suppress the sad subtones that wanted to sneak into the statement, and instead acted over it by removing her wand from the tousled damp mess on her head, now that she remembered that her hair still would have to dry at some point indeed. "And I literally just took a shower before coming here, so that should make the smell even more prominent as well. Sorry…"

"Not for that. But say, do I even want to know why you decided to take a shower in the middle of the night? On your birthday?"

"Cas smeared some sticky goo onto my face and it was really itchy and got stuck in my hair…" She rolled her eyes at the memory, and upon his questioning and slightly horrified expression, she snorted but went to explain. "It was just some kind of face mask, nothing gross! Well, actually, it was pretty vile, all pink and smelling horribly sweet, even worse than the pineapple!"

"Sounds like your evening with your roommates went exactly as expected."

"Well, part of it at least. At first we had tea and cake, which I very much enjoyed actually. They told me about the incident in class as well, even though they thought it was hilarious rather than annoying. But then I became subject to their idea of a girls' night, and that meant sticky goo and painted nails." Robin held up her hands with a humoured sigh to demonstrate Jorien's work. It actually looked quite good, or at least it had, before Robin had already chipped one nail in the shower. She couldn't bring herself to care enough to fix it though. "Then they tried to get me to talk about boys, which was the point where I shut down."

"I can imagine."

"They got me a lovely gift though; a framed photograph of the entire group. The girls and I, and Simon, Gideon and Michael. All sitting together in the great hall." Robin smiled, still very much happy about the picture. "There's so few photos of me and the people I care about. Honestly, I only have the conference photos from last year and the year prior, and either has about fifty strangers in it, but only one has you."

"Good. I doubt that I'm particularly photogenic."

"Neither am I, but I like looking at the picture nonetheless."

"You always were the most photogenic person in the entire newspaper. All three years of conferences."

"Thanks." Robin laughed, once again quite glad that it was too dark for him to really see her blushing. "Remind me to show you the horrible pictures of me as a toddler some time… You'll change your mind about me being photogenic then."

"Don't bet on it."

"Alright, I won't." Her smile turned warmer, less amused and more heartfelt. "But I'm still happy to have one more picture of the people I care about now."

"You should be. It is a nice gift indeed. An actual gift."

"Oh will you stop it now!" Robin rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, then couldn't help smiling up at him nonetheless. "I think your gift IS an actual gift! A perfect one! But if you just keep refusing to believe it, might I make a suggestion?"

"Don't you always?" He raised an eyebrow as he quoted her own words back to her with a not-smirk. "Go ahead."

"Go to Hogsmeade with me on Saturday. I know you're not overly fond of being there while the students are roaming around, but you could consider it a gift to me, if the incredible one you've already given me just won't count for you. Which I still don't understand, by the way." She suggested, then went on with a small smirk. "I'm sure I can sell some stuff to the guy in that ingredients shop you sent me to forever ago."

"I will have to see it to believe it. Saturday it is." He replied and the corners of his lips quirked up more and more. "The man you're speaking of is a sleazy individual, ripping people off wherever he can, and getting him to pay a decent price will be practically impossible. But I will enjoy seeing you try."

"I can get him to pay any price you name." Robin teased with a nonchalant shrug. "I don't know what prices to set anyway, nor what the different objects are worth in theory. Just give me a number I can tell him, and you'll see me getting him to pay it."

"I sincerely doubt that."

"Wanna bet?" She quirked an eyebrow at him, smirking openly with just a tad of mischief in her tone. There was no way she would lose this, she was certain of that. "If you deem me so unconvincing, you should have nothing to lose."

"If you insist. What stakes shall we set?"

"Loser buys the winner a drink afterwards, how about that? We should both be able to afford that much at that point."

"Agreed. It should make for an interesting Saturday either way." Snape seemed to be entirely amused by the idea at this point, and Robin wondered if he was actually serious about doubting her in the first place. He did know better than to question her abilities, especially those she actually believed in herself, and somehow she had the feeling that agreeing to this bet was his way of encouraging her to do her best on Saturday. But he might also just be wanting to buy her a drink. The thought made Robin grin even more, and she decided that she was fine with either version.

"I hope I'll make it to Saturday in the first place…" She said then, remembering that it was only Friday now, roughly around two in the morning. "The girls have made some plans for my birthday, but after this evening, I'm not sure if I will survive any more of their ideas."

"To your luck, they will be busy with classes for most of the day, much like myself unfortunately. Are you going to be assisting Pomona with the second years again?"

"Yeah, it's the only thing I have to do. It's fun, actually, when the students aren't being idiots. Gonna be an easy day."

"Perhaps you should go to bed now nonetheless. As much as I would like to sit down now and keep you here until morning, you certainly would be better off with some sleep before your roommates drag you into whatever schemes they have set up for the morning."

"Yeah… I should go." Robin sighed, and this time she didn't even bother trying to hide her sadness about the fact. "Don't forget about the salt thing though, yes? And please tell McGonagall; even if just for the sake of helping me keep my promise."

"I will." He replied as he followed Robin to the door, keeping his eyes on her as she stepped out into the hallway. "If your roommates haven't already claimed every single minute of your day by then, perhaps we could take a walk in the afternoon."

"I would like that very much." Robin smiled up at him too happily, in too much excitement, but she couldn't bring herself to care. He already knew that she loved spending time with him; he just didn't know all of the reasons. "But for now, goodnight."

"Get out of my sight already."

"As you wish." She grinned at his feigned annoyance and not-smirk, then made her way down the hallway and back towards her room, clutching her wand in one hand and the letter in the other. Surprisingly enough, this had been a great start to her birthday after all.

When she lay in bed a little while later, she could still feel the shadow of his touch along her spine, the brush of his fingertips on her sides, and it took her a while to fall asleep like that, when part of her mind wouldn't shut up and instead kept on wondering what it would've felt like without all the fabric in between his skin and her own.

… … …

Morning, as always, came way too soon, and Robin was woken up by two overly excited girls who then proceeded to dictate her every move. Luckily she could talk them out of painting her face this year, but they still put up her hair into an intricate braid before they finally made their way to breakfast while playing some kind of game Robin never quite understood the rules to in the first place. When they arrived in the great hall, they still were terribly early for once, as they sat down at the Ravenclaw table with the boys, who each proceeded to congratulate Robin as well, and she in return thanked them all, especially Simon for the idea with the picture.

Once the hall had filled up with students and staff alike –Robin took careful notice of the fact that McGonagall was once again sitting next to Snape, chatting away amicably while the latter looked indifferent as always– the beginning of the meal was announced, and the foods and drinks were sent up from the kitchens. The moment everyone had been waiting for had finally arrived, and when Robin looked around, she saw more excited faces than she dared to count. Obviously the news about the prank had made their rounds among the student body, and spread even beyond the Ravenclaw table. In the careful attempt not to be entirely obvious about it, Robin then observed Snape and McGonagall. Both of them went with coffee this morning, and if she wasn't mistaken, they both focused on their mugs a little too long before moving to drink at last. Neither of them pulled a face, nor did McGonagall falter in her one sided chat with the bored man next to her, which relieved Robin quite a bit. Once she looked over at Jorien, the girl mouthed a quiet 'thank you', to which Robin answered with a single subtle nod. Then both their attention was drawn back to the head table, when a happy coincidence decided that it should be Morgan who first made a show of spitting out his salted coffee in an indignant spout. A wave of giggles ran through the student body, and while more professors followed Morgan's example mere seconds later, the giggles turned into straight out laughter. McGonagall made an attempt to hide the fact that she had known in advance, going neatly along with the other professors' surprise and outrage, while Snape however merely let his eyes travel over the students in a menacing glare. When his eyes caught Robin's, however, his face brightened up ever so slightly with a not-smirk for a moment, then he continued his cold inspection of the tables and Robin turned back to her breakfast. Perhaps seeing Morgan spitting out his coffee had made her morning a little better after all, and knowing that Snape had succeeded to get McGonagall, out of all people, to play along with this scheme definitely made her both happy and proud.

The day then continued on quite as good as it had started. During the herbology class she helped with, Sprout not only congratulated her right away, but also gifted her a beautiful scalpel-like knife that was small in size, but sharper than Robin thought possible. The gesture honestly surprised her, but the herbology professor insisted that she couldn't continue watching Robin use that old rusty thing she had been using for both her in- and out-of-class work for the last two years. A little overwhelmed but very much grateful, Robin finally accepted the highly useful gift, and stored it in her pocket for now, just before first students filed into the greenhouse.

The next surprise came during lunch, when Robin found yet another wrapped gift waiting for her in her spot at the Ravenclaw table, where her small group of appreciated people was already awaiting her arrival. Upon Robin's inquiry about the package, they all shrugged and said it had just suddenly been there some time after they'd sat down. Her name was written on a piece of paper that was tugged into the wrapping, but she didn't quite recognise the handwriting. Odd… why were so many people giving her gifts for her birthday, all of a sudden? She appreciated it, of course, but it made her wonder nonetheless. Then, encouraged by her overly curious friends, Robin finally unwrapped the gift, only to reveal a small and desperately old looking book. 'The Unforgivable Curses: A detailed study'... The title alone made the hairs in Robin's neck stand up, while the small group of people around here was simply confused. Of course they understood the title, but they were just as clueless about who would give such a book to Robin as she herself was. There was no note, no letter, nothing but the slip of paper with her name on it, which she tugged in between the pages after briefly flipping through them in search for any more pleasant or unpleasant surprises. But it was just a book, a quite rare one if Robin wasn't entirely mistaken, and certainly not of the kind you would find in a school library. If anyone saw her with this, especially one of the professors, they might just think she was up to no good; thus Robin stored it away in her backpack, making sure to inspect it more thoroughly later today. Preferably together with Snape, he knew way more about these things than anyone else, and he appreciated a good mystery quite as much as she did.

After lunch, when Robin was just about to head to her room to pass the time and perhaps change into something warmer before Snape would be done with his classes for the day, she found herself stopped in her path, surprised yet again by something she hadn't quite expected. This time it was McGonagall who, after a quick glance down the hallway, first congratulated Robin, and then also thanked her for the indirect warning this morning. What surprised Robin however was when the professor took her hand, placed a small and surprisingly cold object in it, and then closed her fingers around it even before Robin could see what it was.

"You did not receive this from me, do you understand?" She asked with an intent look at Robin, who in return merely had the time to nod before the professor turned on her heels and was off down the hallway a second later.

Confused, Robin opened her hand again and her eyes fell onto a key that was now resting in her palm, heavy and cold and no less ancient than the book she had already received an hour earlier. What on earth was going on here that she was missing? What was this key for, in a school that –as far as Robin knew– locked all doors with magic anyway? And why was McGonagall so keen on keeping it a secret? Robin couldn't answer either question, but she hid the key in her locket anyway, to keep it safe until she knew what she was to do with it. Then she finally made for her room, with the intention to get some long overdue rest at last.

… … …

Shortly before four in the afternoon, Robin quietly let herself into Snape's office during the last minutes of the class he was teaching next door. She had indeed changed into something warm enough to be comfortable outside (for once!), and then thought it a nice idea to pick him up here to go for her promised walk. That at least would give them a good two hours before dinner, and thus enough time to actually get away from the castle for a little while. Content with her plan, Robin took her perch on the edge of the desk, not bothering to sit down properly for the little time she planned to stay here. It wasn't long indeed before the door between office and classroom flew open, and a very much annoyed Snape stormed into the room, throwing the door shut behind himself again without looking back. Still it took a few seconds for his eyes to find Robin's, but then he stopped in his track while the tension remained written all over his features.

"Don't." Was all he said in a deep and warning tone, and Robin knew very well what he meant, but she just couldn't help it. She had to smile, brightly and without any attempt to hide it, and he rolled his eyes in return, the tension fleeting, while he tried not to smile in return. "You are insufferable. Just let me be angry in peace."

"I'd rather not. Because I can't be happy when you're upset, so logically I will have to see to it that you're happy. For my own sake." She shrugged easily, and her eyes followed him as he moved to drop a stack of notebooks next to her on the desk. "And I'm here to claim what's been promised to me. Before you can find a way to get out of it."

"Whyever would I want to? Wasn't it I who asked for a moment of your precious time in the first place?" He raised his eyebrows at her for a second, then grabbed his warmer robes from the back of his chair. "I would hardly want to miss the narrow time frame I was given to spend with you."

"Oh come on, I'm not that busy! You're the one who had to teach all day… I've just been in my room ever since lunch."

"Napping, as it seems." He quipped, finally unable to keep the not-smirk off his face, and Robin felt called out immediately.

"How the hell do you know that again?"

"Your hair tells me all about it. Admittedly, the difference from lunch to now is very subtle, especially with the braid, but I know what you look like when you wake up. I've seen it before."

The blush that rose to Robin's face immediately was accompanied by a wave of tingles that were equally a result of his words and her own imagination. Yes, they had woken up in the same room before. But not together, in the way she would've liked. Not the time to think about that now.

"Well, you caught me." Robin finally replied, forcing away the previous string of thoughts. "I was napping because I didn't get a lot of sleep last night. I'm fine with little sleep, generally, but less than two hours isn't enough even for me. With the two herbology classes of the first and second years this morning, on top of two meals with the girls, I honestly just needed some rest."

"What kept you from getting a good night's sleep in the first place?" He asked in return, as they left the office and started making their way outside, unseen as always, through the many rooms and passages Robin found herself actually able to remember at this point. She had no idea how Snape even knew about all these shortcuts and secret paths in the castle, but she was glad to have learned about them too. Wandering around unseen was a lot easier like this.

"Oh, you know… just too many thoughts spinning in my mind." She shrugged, careful not to let slip that it had been thoughts about him that had kept her awake. Thoughts about them, together.

"I understand. Your visit also left me thinking for quite a while." He said, as they arrived at the foot of the hill, under the open grey sky at last. "I have come to the conclusion, for example, that you were right. My gift to you may be considered a gift indeed."

"Where did that change of mind come from?"

"I couldn't find an argument against yours. Giving someone a gift is an act of caring, and as you rightly so pointed out, caring extends way beyond the material. Thus a gift should be judged by the amount of care put into it, not its material worth."

"That's pretty much what I was trying to say last night, yes." Robin smiled up at him, doing her best not to trip over anything while they made their way towards their by now common favorite place outside the castle. The shoreline of the lake. "I received three more gifts today, even though I'm not so sure if the latter two go by our definition of 'gift' in that sense. The care as well as the message behind them are kinda, well, untranslatable to me. Anyway, I've been dying to tell you about it all day."

"I'm listening. And intrigued, seeing as once again you just have to build up suspense."

"Well, first there was Sprout." Robin started, in ignorance of his second comment, and pulled the delicately ornamented knife out of her robes, showing it to Snape with a smile. "I was quite surprised that she got me a gift at all, to be honest. We've gotten a bit closer through my assistance in her classes, but I didn't think she liked me enough to even remember my birthday, leave alone to get me anything."

"She gushes about you all the time actually, in the staff room, or during meals… It seems to be one of her favourite pastimes to tell everyone, especially me, about your brilliant work." Snape replied, then handed the knife back to Robin who slipped it back into her pocket. "I'm not surprised that she would give you a present such as this; she holds you in a higher regard than she does with most of her colleagues."

"I certainly appreciate it. The gift, and that she's obviously quite fond of me too. Especially since the other two items that were given to me today are way more confusing in their nature and their circumstances."

"I know you received a book during lunch. What was that about?"

"I haven't got even the slightest idea. Nobody knows who it's from or why it was given to me, and I was hoping you could help me solve this mystery." She said, and summoned the object in discussion from her bag, once again handing it to Snape. "There's a piece of paper inside with my name on it, perhaps the handwriting will tell you more."

He stopped walking once his eyes fell onto the title of the book, and he inspected it for a moment longer until he looked up at Robin once again, in sincere surprise. "I have heard of this book, but admittedly I believed it to be nothing more than a myth. It still might be a mere joke; we will have to find out about that."

"What's special about it? It probably contains a bit more information than we are taught here at school, but that can't be it, right?"

"Supposedly, it contains methods to resist all three of the unforgivable curses. I highly doubt that rumour however, for obvious reasons."

"Obvious to you, perhaps. Enlighten me."

"If there was a way you could cheat a curse that was banned by the ministry, wouldn't they have an interest in making that knowledge known and thereby eradicate the usefulness of such curses in the first place?"

"That definitely makes sense. But perhaps they also believe the book and thus the methods to be nothing more than a myth? Either way, I have this book now, and I have no idea who gave it to me."

"I could give you an answer to that even without looking at the handwriting." Snape scoffed, but opened the book and inspected the snippet of paper nonetheless. "Quite obviously, Professor Dumbledore has an interest in it that you become better acquainted with these curses. I don't have to tell you that this isn't a good sign."

"No…" Robin breathed in return, and if she was honest with herself, she could also have guessed by herself that it was the headmaster who had given the book to her. "If Dumbledore wants me to read this, I bloody better should. No matter what his intention behind it is."

"Indeed. I would ask him about it, but he hasn't been letting me in on anything of importance for a while now, and I doubt that he would give me an honest answer even if I tried. We are better off drawing our own conclusions from now on. May I read the book, once you have?"

"Obviously! It's really not much of a gift and more of a homework assignment the headmaster expects us both to do."

"An oddly fitting way to describe it. Tell me, if that was the second 'gift', what is the third?"

"Something I understand even less." She sighed, then fiddled the key out of her locket to hand it over too. "This was given to me without a comment, without context, and with the instruction to not reveal who gave it to me."

"That certainly-..."

"It was McGonagall." Robin shrugged with one shoulder, giving him a small smile which only widened as his brows furrowed in confusion. "I'm not keeping secrets from you, and she certainly knows that. But I have every intention to keep her involvement a secret from absolutely everyone else."

"If she was concerned about keeping it a secret in the first place, it likely means that Dumbledore doesn't know. This in return means that whatever his reason might be for not wanting you to have the key, it isn't to your advantage. But the key likely is."

"Why do you think so?"

"Dumbledore has long lost his conscience between the bigger picture and his own ambitions, but Minerva will do what she can to protect the innocent from any misfortune. And if said misfortune was caused or tolerated by the headmaster, I believe she will go against his wishes to act on her own conscience instead. Put differently, Dumbledore's concern lies with the school, and its place in the grand scheme of things. Minerva's concern lies with the learning and wellbeing of both students and staff."

"But… that would mean that Dumbledore is willingly letting something bad happen to me. And McGonagall is trying to protect me from it, even though Dumbledore doesn't want her to."

"So far my theory at least, but I have no proof of it other than both our past experiences. It certainly would make sense in the context of both her own words after the incident with Morgan on the first night of term, and also the fact that Dumbledore gave you the book now."

"Oh great…" Robin groaned under her breath and let herself fall back against the tree behind her. "What have I done that makes me everyone's favourite victim? First Morgan, now Dumbledore, and well… There's literally an entire school full of people to pick on! Why do they keep choosing me?"

"I have another question for you. Why does Minerva believe that an old key will help you against either of them?"

"Yes. Great! Thank you for making matters even more complicated." She rolled her eyes with a huff, but felt bad for it immediately. Time to be better than her emotions. "Sorry… that was really unfair. None of this is your fault."

"It's quite alright." He replied calmly and took the remaining two steps to stand in front of Robin, handing her the book and the key. "I can't say I'm not equally concerned about these developments."

"I just can't get rid of the feeling that it all comes down to Morgan somehow. If McGonagall is the proof of a connecting point, back on the day of the welcoming feast and today, it means that Dumbledore sees Morgan as he is, as a threat, but doesn't want to do anything about it. Not because he doesn't care about Morgan's actions, but because he has some grand scheme in mind where Morgan is a chess piece of yet unknown importance and I'm just a casualty he's willing to sacrifice for whatever greater cause. And McGonagall doesn't want that to happen, but she also can't tell me about it because he doesn't want her to. Does that even make any sense? This is a school and not some bloody thriller!" She scoffed as she returned the book to her bag and the key to her locket, then however didn't lean back against the tree. There was too much tension in her body, too much anxiety in her mind, and thus she simply looked up at Snape with an almost sad expression. "Honestly, what am I missing here? I just… I don't understand what's going on anymore."

"Right now, all that matters is that you are out here, with me. You are supposed to have an enjoyable birthday and not a mental breakdown over people who definitely do not deserve it." He said while lightly tracing the outside of her hand with one finger, and when the gesture made Robin smile instinctively, he took her hand entirely and gave it a gentle squeeze. "We will find answers to all the questions, given the right time and opportunity. You and me together, like always. Yes?"

"Yes." Robin sighed, and her smile broadened into a real one that captured the rest of her face as well. "Let's walk on then, shall we? You could tell me what the fifth years did that was so terribly annoying during your last class."

"The better question would be what they didn't do to annoy me. I cannot believe I have to get those dunderheads through their OWLs at the end of the year." He rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, and slowly let go of Robin's hand as they sauntered on, along the shoreline. Oh well… Robin was happy about the gesture nonetheless; as small and fleeting as it had been, it had been initiated entirely by him for once.

"You better start telling me then." She suggested, quirking an eyebrow at him with a smile. "If it's such a long list. What did they do wrong this time?"

"Would you like me to answer chronologically or alphabetically?"

_____________________________

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[ravens-words]

Prelude to Light, Part 4 of 6

Five times Michael watched, and pined away after, Alex interacting with others' kids and the one time it was their kid.

On AO3

AN: Funny story, I may or may not have forgotten to post this chapter three days ago. So, sorry for the delay!

Also, I'm so so nervous about this chapter.

....

"Knock knock!"

Isobel poked her head in and Michael grinned, nervousness forgotten. His smile broadened when Max followed her in, both of them smiling widely at him. 

He spread his arms to the side. "How do I look?"

"You look great, Michael," Isobel said, voice thick with tears. She was clearly trying very hard not to cry, and Max, when Michael chanced a look at him, wasn't faring any better. 

Isobel pulled him into a tight hug, then patted his cheek with a watery smile and stepped aside. Max took her place, pulling him into a bear hug. 

"I'm so proud of you," Max whispered into his ear. "And I am so happy for you, Michael."

Michael sniffled. "Thank you. Now get off me, you big lug," he whined playfully.

Max pulled back and rolled his eyes, shoving Michael gently.

"We'll see you out there," Max said with a grin. His brother put an arm around their sister's shoulder and steered her out of the room.

Michael took a deep breath, blew it out slowly and tried to contain the mess of emotions he was feeling.

He smoothed a hand down his suit jacket, straightening out imaginary wrinkles. 

"Michael?"

"Liz?" 

His sister-in-law came in and closed the door behind her gently. She had her heels in one hand, and the other one was resting on her prominent baby bump. When she turned around, she was smiling. It only took a few seconds for her to tear up and Michael chuckled and went over to hug her. 

She squeezed him within an inch of his life, and when she let him go, she smoothed a hand down his shoulders to his arms. "Look at you!" She exclaimed tearfully. "You look so handsome, Mikey."

"It's just a suit," he teased her gently. "You've seen me wear a suit before, Lizzy."

She swatted his arm and huffed when her phone buzzed in her hand. She muttered a few curses in Spanish. Michael rested his hand on her belly and frowned in mock disapproval. "Little ears, Liz."

She rolled her eyes. "Your brother is driving me insane." She took his hand and walked them both over to the chairs in the corner of the room. She sat down, and put her feet up on his thighs. "He keeps telling me to rest. Do you know what we fought about this morning?"

He couldn't keep an amused smile off his face. "What?"

"Heels. We fought about heels, Michael." She huffed.

"Why?"

"He didn't want me to wear them because, apparently they're bad for my back."

Michael looked pointedly at said heels, which she'd abandoned by the door, and then at her with a pointed lift of his eyebrows. 

She shrugged sheepishly. "They're so pretty! And who knows when I'll be able to wear them again."

He laughed and she chuckled along with him, hand rubbing absentmindedly at her belly. "How are you feeling?"

Their eyes locked and he realized with a jolt that she'd been distracting him, and that it had worked. 

"Excited." She raised an eyebrow and he deflated. "Nervous, terrified" he admitted, a little ashamed.

She settled her legs on the floor and leaned, a little awkwardly, to hold his hand with her smaller ones. "You know, I was so nervous before my wedding, I was nearly vibrating out of my skin."

He let out a breath. "Yeah?"

She smiled, her nose crinkled, and Michael couldn't help but smile too. "Oh yeah, but the minute you see him, it'll all go away."

He slid closer and hugged her, albeit awkwardly considering their positions.

Her phone rang and she smiled, exasperated and fond in equal measures. "Hi, babe," she answered. "I'm resting my feet like you told me to," she protested, then laughed at whatever Max said in reply. She stood up with a groan. "I'm fine, Max! I'm pregnant, not an invalid."

When she was at the door, she opened it, stepped out and then came back in. "Oh, and Mikey?" She smirked. "You look good."

He laughed. "Get out of here!"

.

This is the first day of my life

Swear I was born right in the doorway

I went out in the rain, suddenly everything changed

They're spreading blankets on the beach

Michael had Alex's hand in his, while the other was on his shoulder. It was a bit hard to dance slow to this song, but they didn't care, and they made it work somehow. 

Yours was the first face that I saw

I think I was blind before I met you

And I don't know where I am, I don't know where I've been

But I know where I want to go

"I love this song," Alex told him with a grin.

"And thank god for that." Michael leaned in close, the beginning of a teasing grin appearing on his face. "If you hadn't, we'd probably still be arguing over which song to dance to."

Alex huffed. "You didn't like any of my suggestions either, you know."

Michael chuckled and placed a chaste kiss on Alex's lips, then his cheek. He felt him smile and his own smile widened. 

So if you wanna be with me

With these things there's no telling

We just have to wait and see

But I'd rather be working for a paycheck

Than waiting to win the lottery, ah-ha, mm-hmm

Besides, maybe this time is different

I mean, I really think you like me

The song ended, and they stayed in each other's arms, swaying slowly and lost in each other's arms. 

Michael felt small hands push at his legs and when he looked down, he saw their four year old niece poking his leg insistently. He and Alex separated and crouched down to her level. She ignored Michael in favor of snuggling into Alex's arms, and his husband- Michael was sure he was never getting tired of saying that- sent him a smug smile from over Gemma's head. They stood up slowly and Michael put a subtle hand on Alex's back, just in case he needed a bit of support.

The second they were both standing, she held her hands up to Alex and said, "I wanna dance now," with all the authority her three feet tall body could muster. 

Michael stifled a laugh and watched adoringly as Alex picked up the little girl with an exaggerated groan. 

Michael stroked a hand down her hair, though he made sure not to mess it up, and smiled when she glanced at him. "Hey, Gem, can I dance with you?"

"No," she said decisively.

Michael clutched his chest in mild hurt and pouted. Gemma huffed and patted his cheek. "It's okay, uncle Michael; don't be sad. I'll dance with you, too." He gave the laughing Alex a smug smile and made to take her out of his arms, but the little girl pushed his hand away. He spluttered and watched her lay her head on Alex's shoulder. The other man shrugged, his shoulders shaking with laughter.

Michael huffed and stepped aside, watched Alex hug the little girl close and whisper something to her that made her giggle. He looked around, and when he spotted the water bottle at the nearest table, he realized how thirsty he was. He went to grab it, but then he was intercepted by his sister. "Let's dance," she said as she dragged him back to the dance floor. 

Michael groaned. "Now I know where Gemma gets it from," he muttered, as he allowed her to tow him behind her.

The song playing was slow, and it wasn't one he recognized. Alex was now twirling a giggling Gemma, who seemed to be having the time of her life. 

"Pigs are flying, aren't they, Michael?"

"Hmm," he said, but a second later the words registered and he tore his eyes away from the adorable sight of his husband and his niece dancing. "Cute," he told her, rolling his eyes.

"I'd be offended by you ignoring me, but I know exactly what it's like to see the guy you love with kids," she sympathized, a shit-eating grin on her face. Michael definitely did not blush, but he did roll his eyes. "It does things to ya."

"Shut up."

She suddenly laughed, and when he followed her line of sight, he joined her. Gemma seemed to be teaching Alex a dance, albeit clumsily, and his husband was definitely stifling a laugh as he tried to imitate her moves.

"Aw, she's such a spaz," she said fondly. 

Michael shook his head at her and laughed. Greg came over to them, their two month old baby sleeping in one arm and wrapped the other around Isobel. She smiled and leaned back into his embrace, closing her eyes when he kissed her cheek. Michael smiled, thankful beyond measure that she'd found someone who loved her like she deserved.

The beginning notes of a familiar song replaced the slow one, and Michael grinned when Liz, Rosa and Maria came rushing onto the dance floor, dragging a reluctant Max and an amused Kyle with them. The nine of them, plus Gemma, started jumping around and dancing like kids to the cheerful notes of Mrs' Potter's Lullaby. 

Alex, who had somehow been able to learn Gem's dance, was dancing with the little girl, both of them laughing so hard he was surprised they were still standing.

Michael stopped dancing altogether and just stared at his husband.  Alex's tie, along with his suit jacket, had been abandoned on some chair in the room, his sleeves were rolled up till his elbows, and his hair was disheveled in a way that no one else could pull off. Smiling and laughing, Michael could safely say he'd never seen him so happy as he was now. 

He made his way to him, and saw Gemma hug Alex's legs. She looked up at him with a look of pure adoration, and he returned it tenfold. 

He couldn't help but picture him like that with their own kids. His heart ached for it; for the possibility of having their own little family someday in the future. 

"Hey," Alex called out to him over the music, hand extended towards him and fingers wiggling impatiently to have his own wrapped around them. He pulled him close and pressed a sweet, lingering kiss to his cheek, then carded his hand through Michael's hair. 

Michael smiled and leaned in, kissing him tenderly and leaning his forehead oh his husband's temple. "I love you so much, Alex."

"I love you, too."

Michael leaned his head on Alex's shoulder, closed his eyes, and smiled. He'd just married the love of his life, he was surrounded by their family, and he was truly happy.

For now, it was way more than enough.

#alex manes #michael guerin #malex #malex fic #belmanes #rnm echo #malex wedding y'all #ej writes

[adiwriting]

Sunday Morning 11/?

This fic morphed into something much bigger than a “Sunday Morning” fic, so I am going to be trying something new. I’ll be posting this as a Sunday Morning fic, then this evening I’ll post a special follow-up “Sunday Night” fic. Don’t expect that to be a regular thing, but I figured this fic would require a follow up and our boys shouldn’t have to wait a whole week to resolve things. 

Shout out to my people over at the 18+ Discord for helping me talk through this one! 

Gif by the lovely @manesalex​

Week 11

It’s Sunday morning and somehow, they’ve been roped into attending brunch with everyone, though Michael doesn’t really understand how. They’ve made it pretty clear to everyone that Sundays are off limits for any and everything unless somebody is dying. And looking around the table, nobody is suffering from a medical emergency. 

Yet, here they are. Sitting around Isobel’s patio with the entire “I know an alien” fan club while Kyle tells some story that Michael isn’t interested in. He looks over to Alex and glares, not understanding why they’re here instead of in bed together like they should be. All he knows is that he’d been woken up by Alex and told to get dressed. When he’d complained, Alex had made it up to him with an incredibly enjoyable blow job, but the positive effects of his orgasm wore off the moment he stepped into Isobel’s backyard and saw just how many people are here. 

He loves them all. He does. But he also knows them all, and there is no way they are getting out of here in the hour that Alex promised him this would last. And they can’t even use the excuse that they have to go home to take care of the dogs, because Isobel had demanded that they bring them along. Currently, Bell is at home, still not up for leaving the house. The rest of their fur babies are each being held and spoiled by their aunts and uncles. So no, Michael is about as likely to pull Alex away from the passionate conversation Liz is having with him as he is to be able to pull John out of Max’s arms or Wendy out of Isobel’s. 

So here he is. Grumpy after a long week of rude customers and one transmission problem too many. He sits in silence, eating his omelette and listening to his family discuss their own stressful week. And so he’s able to notice several things. 

For starters, he notices the way that Liz keeps glancing over at Max with a smile and the way that he keeps winking back at her. So he knows that those two idiots have gotten back together. He’ll never admit it, but he’s relieved. Max deserves some happiness in his life and Liz is good for him. He’s glad they finally decided to forgive each other for all the drama several months back. They’d both been idiots and caused a lot of pain, but hopefully they’ll be able to move forward and do better, like Michael is moving forward with Alex and doing better. 

Then there’s the other thing, the more important thing… the way that Alex keeps looking over at Maria with a look that can only be described as longing. 

Michael feels bad. He doesn’t know the entire extent of the weirdness that has happened between them, but he knows he’s to blame for at least a chunk of it. Alex and Maria still talk, but there’s been this noticeable tension between them ever since Maria broke up with him. Alex won’t talk to him about it and neither will Maria, so Michael is at a loss as to how to fix it. 

Michael leans over to whisper into Alex’s ear, “You should talk to her.” 

Alex shakes his head. 

“She doesn’t want to talk to me.” 

Somehow, Michael doubts that is true. He’s known Maria for long enough to know that she adores Alex. She also isn’t one to avoid confrontation. Alex on the other hand is notorious for avoiding conflict. He’s gotten better at it, but between the two of them, Michael is willing to bet that Alex is the one avoiding having whatever difficult conversation they clearly need to have. 

“Maybe she doesn’t think you want to talk to her?” 

“Maybe you should stick to fixing cars instead of trying to fix people,” Alex says. He’s smiling at him, but Michael can hear the bite in the words and raises his hands in surrender. He’s certainly not going to spend his Sunday fighting with Alex, even if he feels like he should push. If Alex wants to sit here missing his best friend who is sitting less than six feet from him, let him. 

“Do you see Peter right now?” Alex asks, changing the subject and Michael lets him. He glances over at where Kyle has Peter in his lap and has to laugh at the way that Peter very slowly puts his head on Kyle’s plate and steals a bite of egg without Kyle noticing. 

“I’m pretty sure that he’s eaten 2 whole pieces of bacon and half that omelette,” Alex tells him. 

“He definitely learned that level of thievery from you,” he teases. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Guerin,” Alex says, to which Michael snorts. He reaches over and takes his own mug out of Alex’s hand. Alex had stolen it earlier while Michael wasn’t looking. 

“No?” he asks, giving him an amused look as he sees the mug is nearly empty. 

“Nope,” Alex says with an adorable smile that has Michael rolling his eyes. 

He downs the last little bit of coffee before standing up and heading inside for more. 

“Pour me a mug?” Alex says, causing Michael to let out a surprised laugh. 

“Pour it yourself,” he says, though they both know that he’s coming back with two mugs. 

Michael is standing in the kitchen adding cream to Alex’s coffee when Liz comes inside carrying a handful of plates. 

“I see you finally took my advice on Max. Only took you a month. I thought you were supposed to be the smart Ortecho,” he teases. 

Liz rolls her eyes. “What makes you think I took your advice on Max?” 

“I don’t know,” he says, peeking through the blinds to point at where Max is sitting with the biggest smile. “The dopey look on his face? He hasn’t looked like that since before you left for California.” 

She moves beside him to peek out the window as well and once she does, she practically swoons. He rolls his eyes. As subtle as a sledgehammer, those two idiots. Did they really think nobody would notice? 

“You gonna try and tell me you aren’t back together?” he asks, crossing his arms and fixing her with an amused smirk. 

“Fine. We are. But what makes you think it was your advice that did it?” she asks, using her hip to push him out of the way so that she can wash off the plates in her hand. 

“Was it?” he asks and her glare is answer enough. He laughs. “I’m glad you two got back together. I don’t think I could have handled another one of Max’s sad drunken monologues.” 

She pulls up the blinds to let the natural light in before turning on the sink and starting the process of washing the dishes. 

“They’ll fix things too,” she says, handing him a clean but wet plate. Apparently he’s drying. 

“Who?” he asks, grabbing a towel from the stove and drying the plate before putting it back in the cabinet. 

“Alex and Maria.” 

Michael doesn’t say anything at first. He doesn’t think that Alex will appreciate it if he tries to get details out of Liz that he hasn’t been ready to share himself yet. But he wants so badly to ask her what she knows. 

“They aren’t fighting over you,” she tells him. 

He gives her a look. Does she think he’s a complete idiot? 

“They aren’t fighting entirely over you,” she corrects herself and that sounds more accurate.

“Why are they fighting at all?” he asks, even though he knows he shouldn’t. 

Liz looks at him out of the side of her eye for a moment or two before sighing deeply, clearly resigning herself to something. 

“They got into a fight while she was still in the hospital,” Liz explains as she continues to do the dishes and pass him the finished ones to dry. “It started over you. Alex thought that Maria broke up with you because he got kidnapped and you went after him. He felt guilty. Then he found out that she was refusing to wear the bracelet, and that’s when things got heated. Alex and Maria don’t fight often, but when they do it isn’t pretty. They both said some things they regret.” 

“Alex is mad at her because she won’t wear the bracelet?” he asks. 

It makes sense. Alex doesn’t like being out of control and Maria playing with fire would certainly press at those buttons. Michael gets it. He too has had to wrestle with figuring out how to accept Maria’s stupid decision to risk brain damage just so that she can have access to her visions. The risk far outweighs the reward, but Michael could never figure out how to get her to see that. 

Or maybe he hadn’t tried hard enough. After all, his issue isn’t about control, it’s a fear of abandonment. And he’d always been too afraid that Maria would leave him to push her hard enough on the issue. Alex wouldn’t have had that fear though. He would have pushed and pushed and…

Yeah. It doesn’t surprise Michael in the least that they’d ended up having a blow up about it. 

Liz finishes the last of the dishes and hands it to him, shutting off the sink and turning to lean against the counter and look at him. 

“Maria broke up with you because of the bracelet. But mostly, because she knew at the end of the day that you would always love Alex more even if you weren’t planning on ever admitting it,” she explains.

“Okay…” He’s not sure why she’s telling him about his own breakup. He knows exactly why Maria broke up with him. He was there. 

“Alex thinks that the reason you are with him and not Maria is because of the bracelet.” 

Michael takes a moment to process that, trying to figure out what she’s getting at. 

“Alex doesn’t want much,” she continues. “He never has. He learned not to expect much as a kid and doesn’t aim high. He wants Maria safe. She’s his best friend. Through everything, he’s always had her to rely on. So he can’t lose her. But he also needs you. Can you see how those two things might be in competition with each other?” 

“He thinks he’s my second choice?” he asks. 

Liz looks at him like he’s an idiot and maybe he is. Because here he’d been thinking that everything has been going great between the two of them. How could Alex honestly still doubt what they have together? 

“That’s why he wouldn’t tell me what they fought about,” he says. Alex isn’t the kind of guy who voices his insecurities easily. Of course he wouldn’t want Michael to know that he feels like he’s a consolation prize. 

“The two of them will work themselves out in their own time, they always do,” she says. “But it would be easier for them to fix what they broke if you fix what you broke first.” 

His body tenses and he opens his mouth, about to defend himself when she holds up her hand. “Talk to Alex. If you want him to make up with Maria sooner than later, then you should make sure that he knows he doesn’t have to choose between either of you.” 

“Even if I convince him that he’s not a second choice, it still won’t change the fact that Maria is gonna wear the bracelet when she wants to and not a moment sooner. It won’t fix the issue,” he argues. 

“Perhaps,” she agrees. “But it would be one less thing weighing heavy on him and making that first step back towards her harder to take.” 

She pats his shoulder in sympathy before walking towards the door, stopping once her hand is on the handle and turning back towards him. “That was my sisterly advice to you. So we are even now. Sí?”

Michael shakes his head. “That’s not how this works, Ortecho.” She gives him a curious look and he continues. “We’re family, right? We don’t have to keep score.” 

She smiles at him brightly and Michael can kind of see how Max becomes completely hopeless around her. “I never wanted a brother, for the record. But I guess you’ll do, Mikey.” 

He groans, grabbing the two coffees off of the counter before following her out onto the patio. “Mikey? Still?” 

“Always and forever.” 

She heads over towards where Max is currently playing a game of bags with Jenna while Rosa stands beside Max, giving him shit, trying to mess up his game. Michael heads in the opposite direction where Alex is currently sitting in a chair, watching as Maria and Isobel have what looks like a photoshoot with their puppies. 

“Do I even want to know?” he asks, reaching over Alex’s shoulder to place the mug in his hand and a kiss to the top of his head before sitting down at the empty seat next to him. 

“Our puppies are Insta-famous apparently,” Alex says, taking a sip of the coffee and smiling in a way that makes Michael feel all warm inside.

“I don’t remember consenting to that,” he says. 

“Apparently Isobel started photographing them weeks ago and they have a following.” Alex hands Michael his phone and he scrolls through the pictures that Isobel has been posting under the Instagram handle @FaithTrustPittieDust. She’s been posting pictures on the regular, apparently. He scowls when he sees a picture of Peter wearing a tiny black cowboy hat. 

“Well she’s banned from puppy-sitting,” he says, handing the phone back to Alex. 

“One hundred percent,” Alex agrees, pocketing the phone before shifting around so he could look at Michael more fully. “You were in there a long time…” 

“I got distracted, sorry,” he says, nervously. Unsure how Alex is going to react to the news that they’d been talking about him. However, he knows that it’ll be better to just be upfront about it. “I was talking to Liz,” he says with a meaningful look. 

“Okay?” He looks confused. 

“She told me about the fight with Maria.” 

Alex grumbles and shakes his head. “She has no concept of minding her own business. Never has.” 

“I want to talk about this,” he says. Alex looks around the yard at their family and he sits up in his seat. His body visibly tenses and he prepares for a fight. It’s been awhile since Alex got defensive like this around him, but he still recognizes the signs of Alex closing himself off. “But we can talk later when we are alone.” 

Alex breathes a sigh of relief, even if his body doesn’t relax completely. And that’s on Michael. He should have noticed sooner that Alex wasn’t feeling entirely secure in their relationship. But it’s also on Alex for not being honest with him about their feelings. Clearly they’ve still got a ways to go in terms of figuring out how to make this thing between them work. 

They may not have the ability to have the conversation completely right now. But there is something Michael can say and he doesn’t want to wait. 

“I want you to know, right here, surrounded by family, exhausted as fuck, and spending the entire time complaining because I want to be in bed with you instead? This is the happiest I’ve ever been in my life. The most settled. And it’s important to me that you know that.”

Alex doesn’t say anything, but he does relax a bit further in his chair and Michael takes that as a win. He reaches out his hand and smiles when Alex reaches back and they can lace their fingers together. 

Peter obviously comes over and tries to pull Michael off of Alex, angry that he’s not the one getting all of his daddy’s attention, but they don’t let go. Michael isn’t planning on letting go of Alex ever again. And he hopes Alex feels the same way about him.

Follow up fic to be posted tonight ;) 

Tagged: @callieramics​ @redstalkingdeath​

As always, if anyone wants to be tagged let me know. 

#roswell new mexico #roswell nm #malex fic #fic: sunday mornings #michael guerin #alex manes #liz ortecho #doggy daddies #found family #mentions of maria deluca

[coffeeheartaddict2]

Cruel summer

Book: Open heart (post series)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!mc Casey Ramsey; F!OC Christine Valentine, Tobias Carrick

Warnings: Mentions of pass pregnancy loss

Category: fluffy angst

Rating: Mature

Word count: 1578

Summary: It is five weeks after her missed miscarriage and instead of celebrating by announcing the news to the world, Casey is hit with another wave of grief as well a revelation from her mum Christine.

Disclaimer: non-original characters belong to Pixelberry.

Authors note: those who have read my fic Better days know that Casey is visited by her mum after her missed miscarriage. At the time I did not know if I would write a fic about this part but inspiration struck.

🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

It had been a warm summer by Bostonian standards, normally Casey would be making the most of the weather, beach days, romantic nights with her husband and bbq dinners with friends but this year was different. It had been five weeks when her world was turned upside down in the cruelest of ways. News of an unplanned but not unwanted pregnancy only to find out the next day that the baby did not survive.

The initial grief hit her hard, she even questioned if Ethan was going to stay. She thought she was turning a corner but then 5 weeks after having a d&c, her cycle came back, reminding her that her body had failed to sustain a new life and what hurt more is that if the pregnancy had stuck, they would be announcing to the world the happy news but instead she was sad, she was angry. Sad for what was lost and angry at herself for not being able to carry a baby to term. The doctor in her knew the statistics on miscarriage and how common they were and how little was known about the causes but it still did not quell her anger at herself. If anything it made it worse. Ethan was wracked with his own grief. There was a time he genuinely believed that he would never settle down and want have things like marriage and a family of his own but Casey was patient and understanding and showed him love that he thought himself unworthy of, this coupled with therapy to work through some of his issues and getting closure on why Louise abandoned him well, this helped him realize that he did want this life. It also hurt him to see Casey struggle with her grief too. They were in therapy together which was helping but grieving is never easy.

Casey’s mum Christine, finally made it to Boston to spend some time with her daughter. When her and Ethan called her and Michael about the miscarriage they were shocked and saddened. Christine wanted to be there right away but she decided to leave it a little bit. Christine had her own experiences with miscarriage but at this point it was unknown to her children and she wanted to give Casey some time before presenting this information. The flight from Oregon was pleasant and she stayed with Casey and Ethan.

Christine did expect her daughter to be sad, but she was not prepared for the anger that was accompanying the sadness.

“I understand being sad but why are you so angry?” Asked Christine timidly.

“If you had come last week I was better, truly but this week has been hard.” Replied Casey. Trying to hold back the tears.

“My cycle came back this week. That coupled with the fact that we would have been making an announcement this week…” Casey starts to cry.

Christine hugs her daughter and allows her to cry. After awhile Casey stops crying. “It just all feels so… so cruel. I know the baby was not planned, we had not even set a timeline for when we would start trying but the baby was wanted. I know I am more than just a breeding machine but I feel like that my body failed.”

Casey tries but fails to hold back more tears. “I know this happens, but the knowledge is not helping me.”

“My body has failed me too, sweetheart, more than once.

Casey looks at Christine, bewildered.

“What?”

“About fifteen months before you were born I had a miscarriage and I had another when Joel was 18 months old.”

“But why didn’t you say anything?”

“Firstly, until now it has never come up and secondly, is there an age appropriate way to tell your four year old and 18 month old that the reason why you are in pain is because you are losing a baby?”

Casey sat silently, in shock at what she had been told.

“We’re either of them like mine?”

“No sweetheart, I did not need surgery on either occassion.”

“Were you or dad upset or angry?”

Christine took a breath.

“Sad, of course I was but I do not recall being angry. The first time for us was like you and Ethan this time, a surprise but not unwanted. The second time I already had you and Joel so we took it as a sign that we were done.”

Casey nodded her head.

“How did you work through your grief and how did you decide to try again?”

“I just did what I needed to do. Yes I was sad but it is something that is not normally talked about…” Christine took a deep breath. “But I got through and that is what is important. As for trying again I can not answer for you.” Christine gave her daughter a hug and went into the kitchen to make a start on dinner.

Ethan arrived home and was greeted with the smell of a beef stroganoff. He greeted Casey and then made his way to the kitchen and greeted Christine. He was happy to see her, he knew how much Casey loved her family and she knew that the distance between Boston and Oregon made it difficult to see them. Christine asked how Ethan was going with everything. Ethan said he was going. Christine was happy to hear this. They enjoyed their meal and Christine turned in. Ethan and Casey sat out and enjoyed a warm evening on the balcony. Ethan could sense Casey was troubled.

“Mum told me today that she had two miscarriages, one before me and the other when I was four. I asked her how she got through and was she angry and how did you decide to try again. She said that she did what she had to go to get through but would not tell me about the decisions made to try again. I just feel so….so…. I don’t know.” Casey tries to hold back the tears but she failed.

“I would be lying if I said that I was not scared about the prospect of trying again, I do have anger but not towards you, at our profession yes, it is something we do not know the cause of yet we have made such great strides elsewhere. I am also scared that this will happen again.”

“This may be grief talk but do we try again?”

“Well not right now obviously. Not just because of the grief but whilst we are not it is a moot point.”

Casey nods in agreement.

“I love you, Ethan. Even though I am a hot mess right now…”

“You are my hot mess and we will come through this together. And I love you too.” He kisses the top of her head and she cuddles in close.

Over the coming days Casey processed her feelings. She also enjoyed having her mum around, despite the revelation, Casey started to again feel like that she was close to turning a corner again. Christine was also very heartened by how supported Casey was, not by Ethan but also her friends. She had met her friends at the engagement party and wedding so she knew how close but she was still heartened nonetheless. Casey’s six week appointment came and went. The surgery had gotten everything and Dr Watson was relieved that there was no adverse affects on her cycle with it coming back and being similar to what it was. She had the physical clearance to have intercourse but Casey still was not in the right headspace. Ethan was more than understanding and he was more than happy to have sexual intimacy happen on Casey’s timetable.

The time Christine spent in Boston flew by and before she knew it, the last weekend had arrived. Tobias invited Ethan, Casey and Christine over for a bbq. Ethan and Tobias got competitive about the food and the grilling but it was still fun and a lovely evening. Christine had never seen a competitive side to Ethan so it was a shock. Casey told her that it was par for the course with them but at least it was not toxic like it had become in medical school. Whilst the boys were cooking Tobias asked how they both were.

“Getting there, Casey has enjoyed having her mum here and I think it has been helpful. Everything was all good with Dr Watson but we are on Casey’s timetable now.”

“That is good news.”

It is Tobias, I understand her fear this time, I am scared too, it is grief that I am not in a hurry to relive.”

“That is understandable but I am sure you will have success at some point.”

“Thank you Tobias, I am glad we are friends again, don’t get me wrong it has been good having Casey’s friends…”

“I get what you mean. I am glad we are friends again too. It has sucks seeing you go through this but you will get through it.”

“Thanks Tobias, truly.” Both men embrace and get back to the bbq.

The next day Christine heads back to Oregon. It was confronting seeing her daughter so upset and angry but as the trip went on she understood why and most importantly she was loved, not only by Ethan but her friends and she was hopeful that like her, the next time she had news it will be happy and she would be a grandma.

———

Authors note 2. Casey’s anger is real, I know when I had mine it was frustrating because you

Did not know the cause. As regular readers know Casey and Ethan do have two children and no more miscarriages. If you read this far, thank you.

[johnny-and-dora]

you and i are very close

"A younger Holt less familiar with Jake Peralta would reprimand him for being so easy to read – but it seems to be in his very nature to wear his heart on his sleeve, and the truth is, it suits him."

or, jake & holt talk about fatherhood. (post 7x10)

read on ao3 -

“…So that’s the lowdown on the Broughton case. Charles and I are gonna head out and arrest them as soon as the warrant comes through.” Jake finishes, bouncing slightly on his heels as he finishes the update. Raymond Holt leans back in his chair, content with their plan of action.

“Excellent work, detective.” Holt says – but then finds himself mildly concerned when he only receives a subdued nod in reply. While he may deem it an appropriate workplace response to a captain’s praise, it is far from the excessive energy and enthusiasm that Jake usually exudes.

Raymond recalls the previous night’s events – a biological sex reveal party that led to Jake’s father being taken to the ER – and wonders if that might be placating the detective’s usually golden Labrador-like temperament.

“I trust that your father is in good health?” He asks tentatively, gesturing for Jake to sit down- he pauses for a moment before doing so, leg jostling in a way that increases Holt’s concern by 17.5%.

“Yeah, he’ll be fine. Sorry our party was kind of a full-blown disaster. Guess I should have expected that with three generations of Peraltas in the room.” He makes the self-deprecating remark with the light-hearted bravado Holt has come to expect from the detective, though it’s notably flatter than usual.

What’s more, his smile is more of a grimace, and he can’t stop fidgeting with the badge around his neck – a classic Peralta tell. Something is clearly bothering him, likely related to his complex relationship with his father and his own fatherhood looming.

A younger Holt less familiar with Jake Peralta would reprimand him for being so easy to read – but it seems to be in his very nature to wear his heart on his sleeve, and the truth is, it suits him. It is an openness, a trust and a sincerity that Holt has earned over the years as Jake’s superior officer. Though he still finds himself exasperated by his stubbornness and fixation on action films, Holt sincerely values his respect and loyalty.

He frowns, trying to assess the best way to discreetly discern what could be causing the detective’s distress.

“I actually found the party to be rather enjoyable, save the alarming bloodshed. The carrots were rich in nutrition and I thought the cake’s green colour made a very interesting and progressive statement.”

Jake’s lips quirk up a little at that, and he sits straighter in the chair, so Holt must be doing something right.

“Thank you, Captain, but that actually wasn’t our intention. Just another screw-up.”

“I see.” He considers this new information briefly, before attempting to continue the non-case related chitter-chatter, something he usually avoids. “So, you are now aware of the biological sex of your child?”

“Oh, yeah! We’re having a boy.” Jake finally smiles genuinely, and Raymond can’t help but return it. He may not personally care much for small infants, but the thought of the bickering detectives he first met when he came to the Nine-Nine having a child together does inspire some fatherly pride over how far they’ve come.

“My congratulations to you both.” He nods again, but his gaze is still far away. Holt decides to subtly switch tactics.

“You know, whatever doubts may be plaguing you, I am certain you have absolutely nothing to be worried about. Your son is very lucky to have you both as parents.”

“What? I’m not, um, there’s absolutely zero doubts to be found here.” Jake’s eyebrows briefly shoot up to his hairline as he stammers some typically poorly concealed denial. Holt remains neutral, wishing he had done some research on the subject but doing his best to power through.

“It is perfectly natural to be anxious about such things.”

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the gentle encouragement is all that it takes for a veritable avalanche of emotions to trip over themselves as Jake speaks.

“I guess I just…I want to be the best dad I can be. I don’t want him to ever feel like…like he’s been abandoned or he’s alone. It’s crazy how much I already love this kid and I haven’t even met him yet, but I know I would do absolutely anything to keep him safe. And with my dad talking about this stupid Peralta father-son curse and my grandpa being a jerk and walking out of our lives all over again…I don’t know. I just know that I don’t want to let him – or Amy – down. Ever.”

Holt is admittedly, a little overwhelmed. He and Kevin have never seen the appeal of conforming to heteronormative ideals of family life, and yet he values his place as the head of the chosen family he’s found at the Nine-Nine. The mysteries of pregnancy and childcare are complete unknowns to him, yet he finds himself completely certain that Jake and Amy will be great parents to their future son.

So, Holt does what he has always found it easiest to do, and he tells Jake the truth.

“I am not sure of this family ‘curse’ you speak of, but as your commanding officer for the majority of the past seven years, I know your doubts are ill-founded. On the contrary, the dedication and loyalty you have shown me, and every member of this squad, only makes me surer you will be a great father.”

“Really?” Jake says, hopeful but apparently still unconvinced.

“This job is not an easy one. You and I know both know first-hand how our lives can be affected by circumstances we cannot control. But you would never willingly let your family down, and the fact that you are so committed to doing everything you can for them is a sure sign that you never will.” Holt pauses briefly to let his sincerity sink in.

“Your son is going to love you, Jake. He will grow to enjoy many Thomas Cruise films with you, and I’m sure he will come to share your passion for…the transforming robot sewer turtles?”

“Feel compelled to tell you those are two completely different franchises, but I really appreciate the attempt and I will be emailing Michael Bay’s team about a potential cross-over.”

“Well. Regardless of the specifics of these cartoon turtles, I am sure you have understood my point.”

“Yes. Thank you, sir. I- that means, uh, a lot.” His thanks is, as usual, completely earnest, and Holt finds himself glad to have helped in any small way. He cannot completely solve the detective’s issues with fatherhood, but he is happy to be one consistent and stable presence for Jake to rely on. Just as he knows he can rely on him.

“You are welcome. And you are free to discuss any other personal issues you may have with me, although I assume Santiago may be better suited to such conversations.”

“She’s been telling me pretty much the same thing.” Jake admits, shifting in his seat. Raymond briefly wonders about the intricacies of their home life, whether they will discuss this conversation over dinner or perhaps during the commercials of some form of media content.

“Well, I recommend you listen to her. She has proven herself to be extremely perceptive and is rarely ever wrong.”

“I know.” Jake grins, a very specific smile on his face that Holt recognises has long been reserved for talking about Amy, even before they began their courtship. “Sometimes I still can’t believe she married me.”

Holt thinks of years spent watching them endlessly bicker and argue and tease each other, thinks of the intimacy affection he sees most often when they are inebriated at Shaw’s bar. He thinks of how ragged and distraught they’ve been each time they’ve been forced apart and how relieved they were to be back together. He thinks of officiating their wedding and accidentally intruding on their honeymoon, and above all, he thinks about each moment of their shared happiness together he has been privileged enough to witness.

“I do not believe she was wrong about that either.”

It’s an expression of sentiment which breaches many of his strict rules of conduct and professionality in the workplace, and he’s partly reluctant to be debasing himself so willingly. But then Jake’s eyes are shining with gratitude and his usual enthusiastic bright demeanour has returned and Raymond can’t help but feel relieved.

“Oh my god, I always knew you were our secret number one fan. Charles is going to be crushed.”

“You are dismissed.”

“Noooo, but I really want to stay and talk about how invested you are in our relationship- “

“-Please leave my office.”

Holt maintains his usual stony-faced composure until Jake shuts the door – only then does he allow himself to relax in his seat a little, fondly thinking of Kevin, Cheddar and the family he has found in the Nine-Nine. He makes a note to discuss stuffed animal varieties with Kevin at a later date so that they may have something to present Jake and Amy’s son when he arrives.

And when he gets to meet the newest addition to the Santiago-Peralta family a few short months later, held oh-so-carefully and preciously in the arms of a man he has come to consider a son, it is a meeting that he treasures for the rest of his life.

#b99 #b99 fic #brooklyn 99 #listen. i have a lot of emotions about soon-to-be-father jake and his gay work dad #so here you go #my writing #shut up sian

[javier-djarin]

Como Me Duele: Chapter 10

Ship: Javi x Reader

Rating: M

Word Count:  5,490 words

Warnings: Language, Mild Violence

Masterlist

Summary: Someone has taken Javi’s hermosa, and now he’s coming to get her. And he’s bringing hell with him.

A/N: Three more posts left. Which makes me so sad, because I loved writing this fic. Thank you again for all the love and support! Please, please, PLEASE let me know what you think. Please let me know if you want to be on my tag list! Chapter 11 coming soon! Also, there is a lot of Spanish in this one. Most of it is from the show. I apologize in advance. The translations are at the bottom.

His POV

He sat in a crumpled mess on the sidewalk looking at the suitcase that had been busted open. The blood that pooled around the suitcase had to have been her’s. He felt pain, misery, panic, and rage all at once. He wanted to scream and cry. She was gone, and the last image she had of him was Gabby’s arms around him as she kissed him. He balled his fists in his hair, hating himself even more for hurting her the same way Michael did; the same way Javi promised he’d never do. He had no one. Steve was gone tracking Escobar’s family to God knows where. He had absolutely not one person he could call for help. He gathered her things, gently folding her clothing before carrying the broken suitcase up to their apartment.

Javi set it on the dining table before taking a seat next to it. He could call Berna, unless that’s who took her. He knew Los Pepes were getting nervous the last time, since he was not as forthcoming with information like he was before. He could notify the Embassy, but they’d release it to the press, and then the kidnappers could get spooked and do something unimaginable to her. He banged his fists on the table in rage. The best thing he could do right now was use whatever resources he could find, and bring her home. He would burn Colombia to the ground if he had to, just to make sure she was safe, and he was prepared to do exactly that.

He jumped out of his seat and ran to his Jeep. He was losing precious time, so he sped to the Embassy. His tires squealed as he skid into a parking spot. “Javi,” one of the secretaries said as he blew by them. “Javi, you have a message!”

He stopped. “From who?” He spun to face her, his rage causing him to shake and tremble.

“I think you should go talk to the Ambassador,” she said softly.

Without missing a beat, he turned on his heel, bursting into the Ambassador’s office where Messina was already waiting. “Agent Peña,” Crosby said, “please, have a seat.”

“With all due respect, Ambassador, I need this to be as brief as possible.”

Messina looked at her agent and sighed. “We received a call about 20 minutes ago from Escobar.”

His face turned ghost white. “What did he want?”

“He threatened us. He wants us to pull strings to get his family into Germany. Agent Murphy is there now trying to prevent that.”

Already knowing the answer to his next question, he decided to ask anyway, “What-uh-what leverage does he have? Or did he just call and ask nicely?”

“It seems that he has a Ms. Y/N Y/L/N in his ‘protective custody’ saying when his family is safe, he will return her to us. Apparently she is an American Nurse who was down here volunteering-”

“I know who she is,” he said all too fast. “She’s,” his voice cracked, “she’s my…” the fastest way to get her back was if she was DEA. They protect their own. She may not want anything to do with him once he got her back, but right now her safety was all he cared about. “She’s my wife.”

“Agent Peña, I thought you weren’t married.”

“Recently married, Messina.” He cleared his throat and tried to calm down.

Crosby sat back in his chair and watched Peña. “Well, there’s only one problem. His family is already on a charter back to Colombia. They booked their flight late last night and will be landing here tonight.”

Javi felt his heart race. Escobar was going to kill her, and he knew it. They went after Pablo’s family, so naturally he retaliated. This was exactly why he wanted her in the states, instead of here. “Not to be crass, but how the fuck am I going to get her back?” he said through his teeth.

“We are working with Colonel Martinez to find her,” Crosby said.

“And we’re going to need you to stay here, Agent Peña,” Messina added.

His eyes immediately darted to hers. “No. Court Marshal me, send me home, but do all of that after I break that direct order. I’m going out there to find her.”

“You’re too close to this.”

“Damn right I’m too close to this, and I’m going to do whatever it takes to bring her back to me!” he exclaimed, “And if that motherfucker calls here again, I want to talk to him.”

Messina looked at Crosby for a cue. He was sitting silently, with no expression on his face as he waited for Javi to be done with his tirade. “Look, we don’t negotiate with terrorists. However, we aren’t going to abandon one of our own. Your wife is DEA. We are going to do everything in our power -”

“Please, Ambassador, cut the shit. I know this spiel. We give it to anyone who loses someone. I’m sure they gave this same talk to Mika Camarena when Kiki went missing. I’m going to go out there and find her, either on my own or with help. I’m not waiting for clearance or authorization. Her hours, no minutes are numbered.”

Messina stood up and approached Javi. “When Agent Murphy lands, we will send him in for backup. Whatever you need, let me know. You’ll have it.”

Your POV 

You took a deep breath as you stood outside your apartment complex, nervous about seeing Javi and telling him the news: you were pregnant. You ran various scenarios through your head from best to worst case. You reached out for the doorknob and pushed the door open and slowly climbed the flight of stairs that led to your apartment. You were halfway up the second flight when you saw it. Javi was kissing someone. Her arms were draped over his shoulders and she held onto him like she knew him intimately. It felt like a hot knife was ripping through your body. Memories of Michael's betrayal hit you. It was happening again and this time, you didn't know if you'd survive it. The pain was almost too unbearable. You let out a loud gasp as tears welled in your eyes. He pushed her away. "Shit," he said, eyes wide, "Y/N."

You turned and bolted down the stairs. Maybe if you ran fast enough you'd catch a taxi before he got to you. Tears were blurring your vision by the time you made it outside. You thought of your child, realizing now they would never know the happiness their parents felt; he or she would be raised in a broken home. You heard tires squeal in front of you and two men run at you. You tried backing away, but your legs were already weak from grief. You dropped your suitcase and it burst open. The last thing you remembered was intense pain on the side of your head as you hit the ground.

***

You woke up a few times with a bag over your head. You were groggy and couldn’t really understand what they were saying as you drifted in and out of consciousness. Your head throbbed, obviously from the butt of a gun or something blunt that struck you. “El está loco,” You heard one of them say. “Primero esa bomba, ¿y ahora la novia de un agente de la DEA?”

“Era amigo de Carrillo.  Ese hijo de puta vendrá por ella y traerá el infierno con él,” the other said. 

The first one laughed. “No mierda  Acabamos de firmar nuestras propias órdenes de muerte, Blackie.”

That brought you out of your grogginess. If Blackie was in the car, then the other one had to be La Quica. Or at the very least one of Pablo’s men. Your heart sank. They were going to use you as a bargaining chip. Little did they know, Javi wouldn’t come for her. Michael was right. He only sent her away so he could hook up with local… no, you thought to yourself, there has to be a reason she was there. There was no way he would do that to me. He is going to come for me. Months of living together and love making told you that he loved you too much to betray you. He would find you, even if it killed him. 

His POV

He walked into the usual seedy bar to meet Berna, but this time he didn’t feel dirty about it. He didn’t care if this move cost him his career; he was going to get her back. He pulled his chair out and lit a cigarette. “No tengo ninguna información para ti, pero necesito tu ayuda,” he said. 

Berna sat back and grinned. “¿Que vas a hacer por mi?”

Javi tried to hide his emotions, but his fear and anger were all over his face. “Te pagaré.”

“$50,000,” he replied.

“Trato.”

Berna shook his hand. “Escuché que Blackie y La Quica se la llevaron. Ella está en algún lugar de Bogotá.”

His heart raced. “¿Dónde?”

“Estoy...investigando.”

Javi growled and slammed the table. “En el segundo en que encuentres algo, llámame. Quiero estar ahí.”

He put out his cigarette and left the restaurant. Just as he stepped onto the sidewalk, the phone rang. “Javi,” Steve’s voice rang from the other end. “I just landed. Messina filled me in.”

“I’m on my way,” he said, hanging up the phone. Javi sat in his Jeep for a second, frustrated beyond belief. He spent the entire day looking for leads, clues, anything, but he was coming up short. No one was talking. She was sitting, God knows where, waiting. He couldn’t get the look on her face out of his head. It was pure shock and hurt when she saw Gabby kissing him. He felt a tear roll down his cheek as he started the car. “I’m on my way,” he whispered to himself. 

***

Steve hopped in the Jeep and turned to Javi. “What the fuck, man?” he said, “I’ve only been gone for a day!”

Javi couldn’t turn to look at Steve. He knew if he did, he’d lose it. “I’ve got to find her,” his voice cracked.

“We will,” Steve reassured.

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel and sped down the street. “Where are we going?”

Javi didn’t answer, because he didn’t know. He just felt like if he was driving, he was doing something.

“Javi,” Steve sternly said, “Javi, pull over.”

He pulled off to the side and slammed the gear shift into park. “What!” Javi exclaimed.

Steve held his hands up in surrender. “Let’s go back to the apartment, and we will start there.”

“I already tried that,” he said, still looking at the steering wheel.

“Let’s try again. You had to have missed someone,” Steve said, “someone who was in the area.”

Javi froze. He did miss someone. Gabriela. Deep down, he knew she was part of it. She had to have been. Who else would be able to give her his address? “Fuck!” he screamed. 

“What is it?”

He finally turned and looked at his partner...friend. Tears ready to spill over at the edge of his eyelids. “Gabriela,” he croaked. Steve waited patiently for Javi to explain to him who she was. “She’s a prostitute.”

“Jesus, Javi,” he said, running his hand down his face. “What did you do?”

Javi recounted how Gabriela was the one who told him about Martiza, how she’s the reason Carrillo was set up, and how she showed up at his apartment door early this morning. His voice broke so many times when he tried to tell Steve about the last time he saw Y/N’s face, just before she bolted down the stairs. “She has to hate me,” he said, “which is why I have to get her back. I have to save her if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Well, let’s start with this Gabriela. Do you know where to find her?”

He put the car in drive. “I do.”

***

They pulled in and parked on the opposite side of the street from the brothel. Javi’s phone rang before they got out of the car. “Peña,” he answered.

“Javi! I just got your message,” Connie said at the other end.

“You called my wife?” Steve said.

“I had no one else to talk to!” Javi defended, “Steve’s back. We think we’ve found a lead. I can call you back after.”

“Wait, Javi,” she said, “hand the phone to Steve.”

He did so and left the Jeep. He needed some fresh air before heading to interrogate Gabriela. He ran his hand through his hair and leaned against the vehicle, about ready to lose the rest of his mind. Every second he did nothing weighed on him. She had limited time left.

“Steve,” Connie said over the phone, crying. “You have to find her, and soon.”

“I know, Connie. What do you think we’re doing?” he sighed.

“No, you don’t understand. Steve, you can’t tell Javi. Especially now.”

“Tell him what?”

Connie took a deep breath. “Y/N is pregnant.”

“She’s what!” he exclaimed.

“Look, we were all surprised, but that’s why she went back. She came down there to tell Javi. She wanted to do it in person and to surprise him.”

“Oh, Jesus. Fuck! I can’t keep that from him,” he said.

“You have to, Steve. What good is this information going to do him now? Nothing, except drive him more insane. You get my pregnant best friend back. Be careful. I love you.” She hung up the phone, and Steve slammed his head lightly against the headrest. He climbed out of the Jeep and walked around to where Javi was standing. He stared at him with nothing but sorrow in his eyes, knowing what Javi should know.

“What?” Javi said. “What did she say?”

“How about I handle this interrogation?” Steve suggested. 

His hands trembled as he wiped his face. “Okay.” 

They walked into the whorehouse, instantly surrounded by girls promising a good time. Javi cornered one he knew, Vanessa. “¿Gabriela está aquí?”

“Sí, Javi. Ella esta arriba.”

“Gracias,” he added. 

Steve followed Javi through the hallways and up the stairs to Gabriela’s room. He knocked first, but when there wasn’t an answer, he burst in. Steve held back for a minute. She was in the middle of a job. “¡Vete, cabrone!”

The man grabbed his clothes and ran out of the room. Gabriela smiled and made her way over to Javi. “I knew you wouldn’t stay away for long,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He grabbed her wrists, a little too hard. “Cut the shit, Gabby.”

“Javi…”

Steve stepped out of the shadows and grabbed her arm, forcing her to sit in the chair in her room. “Who gave you Javi’s address? No one knew he’d moved apartments.”

“I don’t…”

Javi stormed over to her, pressing her into the seat. “Who, Gabby!”

She started crying. “Lo siento, Javi. Lo siento mucho. Ellos iban a matarme.”

He felt a weight lift. He found his lead. His breathing began to shake as he sat down. “Where did they take her?” Steve asked, pressing the barrel of his gun to her chest.

“I-I don’t know.”

He cocked the gun. “You’re going to have to do better than that. They were going to kill you, but I will.”

“Please, I can find out.”

Javi’s head jerked up and looked at her. “Call them. Now.”

“I can’t just do that.” She started crying harder. “They’re watching you.”

Both Javi and Steve froze. “They have been since Pablo escaped prison. That’s how they knew where to hit you where it hurt.”

“Call them.” Steve pressed harder with the gun. “Now.”

She reached for the phone on the side table next to her. 

Your POV

You woke again, this time with duct tape and rope around your arms and legs. You were blindfolded and strapped to a chair with a terrible headache. You head feet shuffling as they neared you. “Ella tiene una herida en la cabeza desagradable,” the man’s voice said. 

“Limpiarla. Pablo quiere que enviemos un video a la embajada.,” La Quica’s voice said from across the room.

“Nosotros estamos jugando con fuego,” the voice said as he dabbed at her wound with a cloth.

You tried to move away, but he held your head in place. “Estas bien, señorita,” he said, trying to calm you.

You didn’t say anything, but instead let out a small sob. You felt another pair of hands on your face, lifting your chin up to expose your neck. “Tal vez podríamos divertirnos un poco con este después del video.”

“Por favor, no,” you begged.

“Sí. Quiero ver qué te hace tan especial para la DEA.”

“No, por favor. Estoy embarazada.”

La Quica laughed. “Limpiarla.”

His POV

Blackie. She was able to give them Blackie. She told them about Blackie’s girlfriend in Medellín. Javi and Steve walked into the Search Bloc offices to begin mapping out a plan of attack. Steve’s phone rang. “Murphy.”

“It’s Messina,” she said, “keep Peña away from the TV.”

“What happened?”

“She’s on the TV.”

Steve saw Trujillo and Peña talking, as they both rapidly walked into Martinez’s office. “You called about thirty seconds too late.”

Javi stood in shock as he watched the tape that was released this morning by the news. La Quica was laughing in the video, showing them her wounds she sustained. She cried the entire time, pleading for them to let her go. Her beautiful eyes swollen and red. One was bruised. In one final display of dominance, La Quica backhanded her to silence her. Blood dripped from her split cheek and swollen lips. Pablo’s usual reporter, Valeria Velez, was the one on TV with a screencap of his beautiful hermosa in the upper left corner. “Escobar tiene un mensaje para los responsables de mantener a su familia en peligro: Mientras mi familia esté en peligro, la tuya también. Mantener a mi familia seguro, o te enviaré su cabeza en una caja.”

Enraged, Javi grabbed the whiskey glass in front of him and threw it at the TV, shattering the glass and screen completely. Martinez and Trujillo stood back, fearing they would be the next targets. Steve came in and grabbed Javi before he destroyed anything else. “I’m going to kill those motherfuckers,” he said, “every last one of them.”

“I know,” Steve said, “starting with Blackie. Let’s catch this asshole.”

***

They walked out of Blackie’s Girlfriend’s apartment complex, defeated. They were dead. Everyone inside. Javi was almost sure that Blackie fled. He wouldn’t be coming back here, and their lead was a dead end. He punched the side of his Jeep out of frustration. He was growing restless and angry. It’d been three days since she’d been taken, and he hadn’t slept at all. How could he? She was out there, somewhere being tortured. He couldn’t afford to sleep. Steve approached him. “It looks like the work of Los Pepes.”

Javi cursed. Of course. He hadn’t given them that information, which means someone else was. “We have to find Blackie. Get him to talk.” He closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“When was the last time you slept?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll drive,” Steve said, taking the keys from him. “Sleep, at least while I drive us back.”

“I can’t sleep. Not until she’s safe.”

Your POV

“Patrón, Los Pepes se están expandiendo. Los Galones están trabajando con ellos ahora. No podemos enfrentarnos a un enemigo tan grande,” you heard La Quica say into the phone. “Sí, sí. Ella está viva. ¿Dónde? Medellín. Sí, Patrón. Gracias. Hasta luego.”

Based on the one-sided conversation you heard, you put together that you were being moved to Medellín. You felt your heart drop. You wanted to scream and cry for Javi, but you knew that would result in Quica beating you. You had no idea how long you’d been trapped here, but you were grateful they hadn’t done anything to you to hurt your child. The worst La Quica did was slap you.

You were no longer worried about yourself, but instead your baby and Javi. You knew this had to be killing Javi. He sent you away for this reason. Tears ran down your cheeks as you silently cried. You should have just called him, but instead you were selfish and wanted to celebrate with him in person. Now, he was out there somewhere looking for you, risking his life to bring you home. 

His POV

They pulled into the Embassy lot as were instantly met by Messina. “We overheard some chatter,” she said.

Javi felt his heart race. “Who?”

“Quica and Escobar. They’re moving ‘precious cargo’ to Medellín tonight. We are stationing teams at the airfields. And setting up blockades at various intersections,” she added, “she won’t leave the city.”

“Messina, a word?” Steve asked.

She nodded and walked away with Steve so they were out of Javi’s earshot. “She’s pregnant.”

Messina crossed her arms. “I’ll communicate that with team leaders to make sure she walks away unharmed and stays out of the crossfire.”

Javi had already walked inside, only to be approached by Stechner, who hopped on the elevator with him. “You’re the last person I want to talk to right now,” he said, “can’t you take the stairs?”

“Remember my warning, Peña? You’re starting to make our new friends nervous. Why didn’t you tell them about Blackie?”

He turned to look at him, annoyed. “They found his family, didn’t they?”

“No thanks to you.”

Javi could feel his muscles tense up. He was already on edge and in desperate need to take his frustrations out on something. Instead, he tried to calm himself. “They go in after her, guns blazing, she could get hurt. Or worse.”

“This is bigger than your girlfriend problems.”

He grabbed him by the shirt collar and slammed him into the elevator wall. “Not for me. I will burn this fucking place to the ground to find her, and if you try to stop me, I’ll take you down with me.”

The elevator door opened and he released him. He walked to his desk. He held the picture of her he kept there, running his fingers over the glass. “Javi,” Steve said behind him, out of breath, “we got him. We fucking got him.”

He set the picture down and turned to him. “Who? Where is he?”

“Blackie.”

***

Javi and Steve were granted access to the interrogation room where they had Blackie. He was sitting there, scared. His hands were tied around his back as he sat in a metal chair looking between the two of them with wide eyes. “Ustedes no me pueden hacer una mierda,” Blackie said, ”De Greiff nos ofreció amnistía.”

“Cierto,” Javi said, leaning back on the table, “Pero tienes que hablar para conseguirlo.”

Blackie smiled. “¿Quieres negociar, gringo? Te voy a dar algo. Algo pequeño.”

Javi leaned forward, bringing his face closer to Blackie’s. “Encontraron residuos explosivos en tus manos. En tu chaqueta, en todas partes. Te culparán por esa bomba.”

His eyes grew wider, realizing he had no bargaining chips left. “No tuve nada que ver con eso.”

Javi rested his gun on his leg. “Lo sabemos. Sabemos que no fue idea tuya. Sabemos que no eres el jefe. No dejes que te culpen por esto. No dejes que te vean como el que mató a todos esos niños inocentes.” 

Steve folded his arms and said, “Ayúdanos y te ayudaremos. Danos a Pablo.”

Blackie shook his head. “No puedo darte Pablo.”

Javi fired a round into Blackie’s leg, and he screamed out in pain. “¡El siguiente es para tu cabeza! ¿Dónde la están reteniendo? ¡Habla, cabrone!”

Crying through the pain, he exclaimed, “¡Yo hablaré! ¡Yo hablaré!” He pushed his gun onto Blackie’s forehead, hard, leaving an imprint in his skin. “La Quica la tiene en una casa segura en Medellín. Sabían que estabas escuchando sus conversaciones, así que la trasladaron anoche.”

Javi grabbed him by the shirt collar and shook him. “¿Dónde in Medellín?”

“Pablo está declarando la guerra a Judy Moncada. Quiere que La Quica junte tanto dinero como pueda. Probablemente esté en movimiento con él.”

Javi looked at Steve. “We need to get to Medellín. Now.” He turned back to Blackie and cocked his gun. 

“Eso es todo lo que sé. Lo prometo.”

Javi put his gun back on safety and returned it to his back, tucking it safely into his belt. He looked down at the floor and saw blood pooling around Blackie’s leg. He felt nothing for the man. “¿La llevaste?”

Blackie breathed through the pain and looked up at Javier. “No tuve elección.”

He used his elbow to send a blow to Blackie’s head, knocking him out cold. Javi stormed out of the room. “Peña,” Steve said, running after him.

Javi didn’t stop.

“Dammit, Javi, wait!”

“I don’t have time to wait. Catch up,” he said over his shoulder.

Steve jogged through the corridor and caught up to him. “We gotta tell Messina. They’re sending their resources to the wrong area.”

“Fine. Go tell her. I’m heading to Medellín now.” 

He let out a loud sigh and followed his partner. “I’ll call her from the road.”

***

Javi and Steve walked into the Medellín office and headed straight for Martinez. “I just got off the phone with Messina,” he said, “I’m letting you take the lead on this, Agent Peña. What do you need?”

He looked around the room at the  map of Medellín on the table. “We are setting up blockades. That fucker isn’t getting out of this city. I want reinforcements here,” he pointed at 10th street, “and here,” he pointed at 32nd street. “Intel suggests these are where his largest stashes are held. If La Quica is gathering money, he’ll go to these.”

Martinez motioned to the map. “We will block intersections so he can only go certain routes out of there. He’ll drive right into our trap.”

His heart was beating so fast, he was sure that the whole room could hear him. “Do not shoot at the car,” he said, “she might,” Javi’s voice cracked, “she might be with him in the car.”

Martinez looked at him. “I cannot make promises, Peña. If he starts firing at my men, they’ve been instructed to take him out.”

“Well, instruct them to take the fight away from the car,” Javi growled, “she’s not going to die in the crossfire.”

Steve slapped Javi on the back. “We’ll get her out of there. She’s going home in one piece.”

Javi sighed. He tried to look at the bright side: they were closer to her than they had been over the last few days. However, he had this sinking feeling in his stomach that his fight to get her home was far from over.

Your POV

You’d been moved so many times over the last several hours that your sense of direction was completely thrown off, not to mention they’d blindfolded you again. This time, though, you’d been thrown into the trunk of the car, and you could hear muffled arguing coming from the cab. You felt the car jerk forward as you tried to wiggle your hands free of the zip ties they used to tie your hands together behind your back. You knew that if you could punch through the tail light, you’d be able to signal for help. You couldn’t even get your feet loose, as they were duct taped together. You did your best to remain calm as you struggled against your restraints, but you suddenly stopped when you heard the car go silent as their phone rang. “Aló. Meirda. ¿Quién es la mierda?” You heard Quica say, “Hijo de puta. ¿Quien es este?”

Your heart raced. Please be Javi, you thought to yourself. You wanted to scream so whoever was on the phone could hear you, but you feared for your life. You knew if you drew any attention to yourself, he’d kill you for certain. 

Quica slammed on the brakes, and you heard them get out. There was gunfire, and so you panicked. You started tugging on your restraints more, only causing your wrists to become raw. You felt the car move as he piled back into the car and hit the gas. You slid forward, narrowly missing another head injury. You heard the phone ring again, and Quica yell something. He took a sharp right turn, and you slid into the side of the trunk, hard. Suddenly everything went black.

His POV

Javi leaned against Trujillo’s Jeep with a phone in his hand. “Now?” Steve nodded. “They’re ready.” He dialed the number he had for La Quica. It rang twice before there was an answer. “Aló.”

“Quica,” Javi said, containing his rage.

 “Aló. Meirda. ¿Quién es la mierda?” He could hear his voice begin to panic.

“Hola, Quica ¿Cómo te va, amigo?” he calmly replied.

“Hijo de puta. ¿Quien es este?” Quica yelled into the receiver.

Javi took a breath before saying, “Cálmate, Quica. No te pongas nervioso. ¿Que pasa, Quica?”

“¿Quién la mierda crees que eres, perra?” Quica replied as he hung up the phone.

Javi looked over to Trujillo. “It wasn’t long enough. Call him again.” They were trying to track his cell signal to find his car from the sky.

He took a deep breath and redialed the number. “Aló,” Quica said into the phone, clearly agitated.

“Quica,” Javi said, “¿Que pasa, Quica?” Quica didn’t answer him. Javi could hear his breathing pick up. “Quica, Quica, Quica,” he added, drawing out Quica’s name to keep him on the phone longer. “¿Qué hora es, Quica? ¿Qué estás haciendo, Quica?”

There was still no answer. “Quica…”

“Bastardo,” Quica said before hanging up.

Javi glanced at Trujillo. “We got him,” he said.

Without missing a beat, Javi and Steve hopped in their Jeep. “Go right,” Javi said. Steve jerked the wheel right. “Perez, cerca de toda la 4ta calle,” he ordered over the radio. “Go straight.”

Steve obediently followed Javi’s directions. “We need to go this way to cut him off.”

A car flew by in front of them. “There! Follow him!” Steve turned right again and gassed the car. Javi could feel his heart racing. He couldn’t see anyone in the backseat of this car, but if they could get La Quica, he was one step closer to bringing her home. “Follow him!” he exclaimed again.

Trujillo came over the radio, “Todas las unidades, prepárate para la obra.”

Javi felt a few tears well in his eyes. He needed to keep a clear head, in case she wasn’t there. He was so close to finding her, and he couldn’t hold in the apprehension any more. “To the right!”

Search Bloc’s team cut off Quica, who slammed on the brakes. He took off running down the street. Javi and Steve did the same and chased after him, guns drawn. Javi fired a few times in the air, causing La Quica to hunker down and stumble a bit, but he kept running. Javi then aimed and hit him in the leg, causing him to go down and drag himself to the end of a ravine, where Search Bloc was waiting for him. Steve beat Javi to La Quica, and punched him several times. Javi pulled him off before landing a few himself. “Peña!” Trujillo exclaimed over the radio, “you better get your ass back up here.”

His heart raced to the point he thought it was going to burst out of his chest. He looked at Steve. “Don’t get your hopes up, Javi,” he said, trying to keep him level headed.

Javi knew he was right. She might not even be up there, but he ran like she was anyway. He ran as fast as he could, ready to scoop her into his arms and never let her go. He ran uphill to the cars that were blocking traffic, and immediately his heart dropped when he saw a group of Search Bloc gathered around the opened trunk. “Trujillo,” he roared.

Trujillo moved everyone out of the way as Javi ran up to the sight. His legs collapsed from under him when he saw her tied, blindfolded, and bleeding in the back of the car. She wasn’t moving, and if she was breathing, it was so faint, he couldn’t see it. He rested his head on the bumper and let out a small whimper. Steve calmly walked up behind him and rested a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at his partner before standing. Javi placed his hands under her shoulders and legs, lifting her out of the trunk, and into his lap as he sat on the curb, holding her against him. Finally, he was able to breath again.

Translations

El está loco. Primero esa bomba, ¿y ahora la novia de un agente de la DEA? - He’s crazy. First the bomb, and now a DEA agent’s girl?

Era amigo de Carrillo.  Ese hijo de puta vendrá por ella y traerá el infierno con él.  - He was friends with Carrillo. That motherfucker is going to come for her and bring hell with him.

No mierda  Acabamos de firmar nuestras propias órdenes de muerte, Blackie. - No shit. We just signed our own death warrants, Blackie.

No tengo ninguna información para ti, pero necesito tu ayuda. - I don’t have information, but I need your help.

¿Que vas a hacer por mi? - What are you going to do for me?

Te pagaré. - I’ll pay you.

Trato. - Deal.

Escuché que Blackie y La Quica se la llevaron. Ella está en algún lugar de Bogotá. - I heard that Blackie and La Quica took her. She is somewhere in Bogota.

¿Dónde? - Where?

Estoy...investigando. - I am investigating.

En el segundo en que encuentres algo, llámame. Quiero estar ahí. - The second you find something, call me. I want to be there.

¿Gabriela está aquí? - Is Gabriela here?

Sí, Javi. Ella esta arriba. - Yes, Javi. She’s upstairs.

Gracias. - Thank you.

¡Vete, cabrone! - Get out asshole!

Lo siento, Javi. Lo siento mucho. Ellos iban a matarme. - I’m sorry, Javi. I’m so sorry. They were going to kill me.

Ella tiene una herida en la cabeza desagradable. - She has a terrible head injury.

Limpiarla. Pablo quiere que enviemos un video a la embajada. - Clean her up. Pablo wants us to send a video to the embassy.

Nosotros estamos jugando con fuego. - We are playing with fire.

Estas bien, señorita. - Everything’s fine, ma’am.

Tal vez podríamos divertirnos un poco con este después del video. - Perhaps we could have a little fun with this one after the video.

Sí. Quiero ver qué te hace tan especial para la DEA. - Yes. I want to see what makes you so special to the DEA.

Estoy embarazada. - I’m pregnant.

Escobar tiene un mensaje para los responsables de mantener a su familia en peligro: Mientras mi familia esté en peligro, la tuya también. Mantener a mi familia seguro, o te enviaré su cabeza en una caja. - Escobar has a message for those responsible for keeping his family in danger: While my family is in danger, so is yours. Keep my family safe, or I will send you her head in a box.

Patrón, Los Pepes se están expandiendo. Los Galones están trabajando con ellos ahora. No podemos enfrentarnos a un enemigo tan grande. Sí, sí. Ella está viva. ¿Dónde? Medellín. Sí, Patrón. Gracias. Hasta luego. - Los Pepes are expanding. The Gallons are working with them now. We cannot take on an enemy this large. Yes, yes she is alive. Where? Medellín. Yes, boss. Thanks. See you later.

Ustedes no me pueden hacer una mierda. De Greiff nos ofreció amnistía. - You guys can't do shit to me. De Greiff offered us amnesty.

Cierto. Pero tienes que hablar para conseguirlo. - That's right. But you have to talk to get it.

¿Quieres negociar, gringo? Te voy a dar algo. Algo pequeño. - You want to negotiate, gringo? I’ll give you something. Something small.

Encontraron residuos explosivos en tus manos. En tu chaqueta, en todas partes. Te culparán por esa bomba. - They found explosive residue on your hands. On your jacket, everywhere. They're going to blame you for that bomb.

No tuve nada que ver con eso. - I had nothing to do with that.

Lo sabemos. Sabemos que no fue idea tuya. Sabemos que no eres el jefe. No dejes que te culpen por esto. No dejes que te vean como el que mató a todos esos niños inocentes. - We know that. We know it wasn't your idea. We know you're not the boss. Don't let them blame you for this. Don't let them see you as the one who killed all those innocent children.

Ayúdanos y te ayudaremos. Danos a Pablo. - Help us help you. Give us Pablo.

No puedo darte Pablo. - I can’t give you Pablo.

¡El siguiente es para tu cabeza! ¿Dónde la están reteniendo? ¡Habla, cabrone! - The next one is for your head. Where are they keeping her? Talk, Cabrone!

“¡Yo hablaré! ¡Yo hablaré! La Quica la tiene en una casa segura en Medellín. Sabían que estabas escuchando sus conversaciones, así que la trasladaron anoche. - I'll talk. I'll talk. La Quica has her in a safe house in Medellín. They knew you were listening to their conversations, so they moved her last night.

¿Dónde in Medellín? - Where in Medellín?

Pablo está declarando la guerra a Judy Moncada. Quiere que La Quica junte tanto dinero como pueda. Probablemente esté en movimiento con él. - Pablo is declaring war on Judy Moncada. He wants La Quica to gather as much money as he can. She's probably on the move with him.

Eso es todo lo que sé. Lo prometo. - That’s all I know. I swear!

¿La llevaste? - Did you take her?

No tuve elección. - I had no choice.

Aló. Meirda. ¿Quién es la mierda? - Hello? Shit. Who the fuck is this?

Hola, Quica ¿Cómo te va, amigo? - Hello, Quica. How’s it going, friend?

Hijo de puta. ¿Quien es este? - Motherfucker. Who is this?

Cálmate, Quica. No te pongas nervioso. ¿Que pasa, Quica? - Calm down, Quica. You don’t need to be nervous. What’s up, Quica?

¿Quién la mierda crees que eres, perra? - Who the fuck do you think you are, bitch?

¿Que pasa, Quica? ¿Qué hora es, Quica? ¿Qué estás haciendo, Quica? - What’s up, Quica? What time is it, Quica? What are you doing, Quica?

Bastardo. - Bastard

Tag List

@magneticbucky​ @larakasser​ @pedropascalownsmyheart​ @wander-lustbabe​ @frietiemeloen​

#Javier Pena #Javier Peña #Javier Pena x Reader #Narcos #Como Me Duele

[let-me-write-shit]

Somebody To You: 24

Friendly reminder to please Like and/or Reblog. It helps more than you think! :)

Word Count: 4,942

Warning: Angst (don’t hate me -it’ll be fine!)

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CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

She felt it in the air the second they exited the plane. Vacation was officially over and the heaviness of the ‘consequences’ from the events over the past week bore down on her shoulders like a fifty-pound boulder - not unmanageable, but annoying enough to notice. She knew she should call Harry and let him know she landed safe and sound like he asked. She knew they should have a conversation about their mindset on where their friendship stands. But none of that seemed important right now. It was late. All she wanted to do was hug her parents and go to bed. 

Zoey’s mom practically balled at the sight of her eldest daughter, elated to finally have her home after being on the other side of the country for four months, though she knew the reasoning for her visit wasn’t a pleasant one. Her dad, on the other hand, was more empathetic. He was always the voice of calm and reason, and he always did his best to put himself on her level. He didn’t need to say anything. His hug said it all. All-encompassing, warm, and tight. It made her feel safe and understood. It made her feel loved. The only time an embrace made her feel like this in the past four months was when she was with Harry. The realization would have been enough to make her cry if she had the energy.

During the whole ride home their mom blathered on about how happy she was to have them home and asked about every little detail of their trip to Rome but gave them no room to speak as she carried on talking. Zoey and Katie shared a look with their father, who glanced at them in the rearview mirror, and they could see the corner of his mouth twitch upwards in a knowing smile at their impatience as the red brake lights from the car ahead of them illuminated on his face, making them stifle a giggle. 

Their mom was still talking by the time they reached home. Their dad collected their luggage from the trunk and followed the girls inside, flicking on the landing light. She would have stayed up all night talking to her daughters if he hadn’t stopped her.

“Mary, they’ve had a long flight. We should let them get to bed,” her dad sweetly said, leaving their bags by the coat rack beside the front door.

Their mother halted her talking, turning her head to see her daughters standing slouched, eyelids fluttering in an attempt to stay open while deep, dark circles formed under their eyes. Mary’s hands fell to her side and her head drooped in defeat.

“Oh, alright. The bedroom is all made up for you two. We’ll talk more in the morning. I love you both,” she gave them each a tight hug and kiss on the cheek.

“Goodnight,” the girls yawned, hugging and kissing their dad goodnight.

Just before they began to climb the steps, Mary called out, “Oh, Zoey!” catching her attention, she turned to look at her mom with an eyebrow raised in the middle of a yawn. Her mom continued with a smile, “That friend of yours...Harry? The one that arranged all of this? He’s a sweet boy. You tell him we really appreciate him looking after our girls for us. I was worried about the crowd you’d get into over there in LA, but if they’re anything like him, I know you found yourself a good one.”

She didn’t know what to say, so she just grinned, nodded, and continued up. From the way she worded it, she wasn’t entirely convinced her mom understood who Harry was, which was shocking because you’d think that Katie would have made a bigger deal about it after having met him. Although her parents weren’t home when he first stopped by and knowing how protective her parents were, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume that Katie had failed to mention a boy in their home while they were away, especially if said-boy was a famous musician. Plus, her parents didn’t keep up to date on current pop-culture. She made a mental note to talk to them about it at some point during her stay when she was a little more aware and lucid. 

It was only 10 PM, but it could easily have been 2 AM by the weight of her legs as she climbed the steps. It felt like she had rocks in her pockets weighing her down, she almost debated falling asleep right there on the steps. Luckily, she made it to the room, unable to close the door with enough force to fully shut, it cracked open with a sliver of light from the hall running a glowing line of orange on the wall where Katie’s bed rested. She was already passed out on top of her sheets, shoes still on. Zoey managed to kick hers off before plopping on the air mattress in the center of the floor, pulling the blanket haphazardly over her face before sleep overtook her.

The clanking of pots and pans and the loud echoing of her mother’s voice as she bellowed to her husband in the morning stirred Zoey and her sister awake, both girls groaning and shoving their faces into their pillows. Neither of them got the ‘morning person’ gene that both of their parents seemed to have. Reluctantly sitting up, Zoey checked her phone briefly to see a few missed texts from her friends letting her know that they were home and wishing her good luck on her visit with Paul today, as well as a missed call and text from Harry, who simply texted her to sarcastically say ‘Hope your plane didn’t crash’. She grinned, rolling her eyes and almost texting him back before the smell of bacon and eggs wafted into the room, catching her attention. She’ll text him later, she decided, practically skipping down the stairs to the kitchen.

Throughout breakfast, she listened to her family gush over her being home and how happy they were to have her back. Her mom, and to her surprise, her dad as well went on and on about how much they wished she would move back home and how they could turn their office into a room for her if she wanted, doing their best to convince her to stay by reminding her of all the things she’d miss out if she went back to LA, like their traditional fall farm trips and week-long Christmas celebrations filled with light-looking and gingerbread building competitions. And she had to admit, she missed it here. It was no Italy, but the view of their green backyard with their old swing set and trampoline, and the taste of her mom’s cooking filled her with nostalgia.

With each bite of food, her mind became clearer and more awake, reminding her of the reason for her visit. Pops. Katie offered to join her in visiting Paul, but, honestly, she needed to do this on her own. It’d be hard enough seeing Paul, knowing of what was to come, but she’d also be forced to see Michael, whom she hasn’t been around since the day she left, and she didn’t know how he would handle seeing her again. 

The whole drive over to Pops’ house she twisted and pinched the ends of her hair, nervous. How was she supposed to act? She’s known these people for five years, but what do you say to the people you care about after not speaking for months, knowing one of them was going to die? Was there proper etiquette in situations like these? 

As she pulled into the driveway and looked at the front of the familiar brick house, her heart ached. It looked just the same as she remembered it, with beautiful hydrangeas lining the flower bed and a flag hanging from beside the door adorned with flowers inside of a watering pail that read ‘Home Sweet Home’. Before she could even turn her car off, the door opened and out stepped Michael. He looked as though he hadn’t slept in weeks, but had recently gotten a haircut which made him look more mature, despite his sleeve of tattoos and choice of clothing; a baggy white shirt and some black skinny jeans. A hesitant smile formed on his face as she got out of the car, meeting him halfway up the driveway.

“Thanks for coming,” he hugged her, squeezing her tightly.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and sunk into the embrace, the sound of his voice and the weight of all that it carried pressed down on her with him. She was doing fine up until then, and the realization began to kick in. Her palms clenched the back of his shirt a little harder while she forced back the tears that threatened to expose themselves. He knew. And he held her a little longer.

When they pulled apart Michael coughed and took a deep sniff, avoiding eye contact to try and poise himself. As soon as he felt he had his emotions under control, he looked up, and faltered, taking his first good look of her since she got here.

“Your hair is down,” he noticed.

She blushed, suddenly feeling self-conscious, “Yeah.”

He chuckled, shaking his head and looking back at her before nodding, “It looks nice. Anyway,” he cleared his throat, “Come in, he’s waiting.”

Too many thoughts were running through her head at the moment and she couldn’t hone in on one in particular. She felt guilty for being here, knowing how Michael was still struggling to come to terms with the end of their relationship. She felt like she was somehow flaunting that she had moved on and was happy, even though she knew that she’d never do that. She worried if she was giving him the wrong impression by coming, concerned that he’d think there was a chance of them rekindling their relationship. She was afraid to see Paul, wondering if he would treat her any differently now that she wasn’t dating his son anymore. And how would Michael’s mother feel having her back in the house after practically abandoning them for months?

But all of her worries seemed moot when she stepped into the living room, greeted by enormous smiles and cheers at her arrival. His mother stood from the couch, barrelling towards her and pulling her into the warmest embrace, pressing their cheeks together and praising her appearance while stroking her hair. Zoey couldn’t help but giggle. It was such a typical greeting of hers that it was almost amusing. 

Paul, on the other hand, stayed on the couch after a few failed attempts at getting up. He looked frailer than the last time she saw him and was very obviously tired. His eyes looked sunken and his skin looked dull, but he had the same bright and mischievous smile as always, shaking his head at the sight of her.

“You leave us for LA and come back a whole new person,” Paul motioned towards her changed appearance; hair down and dressed more confidently. “You look great, Zo-bear. California looks good on you.”

“Thanks, Pops,” Zoey smiled sweetly, making her way over and gently hugging him. 

His hugs weren’t as tight and encompassing as they once were, but she still felt every ounce of love he contributed and her heart only sank more. The tears she tried so hard to hold back threatened to spill again, and she hiccupped in an attempt to conceal it, but Paul noticed. And the look on his face when she noticed her glassy eyes was enough for Zoey to lose her fight as they began to fall, trailing down her cheeks. 

“Whoa, hey now,” Paul whispered, wiping her tears away with his thumbs while clasping his hands on either side of her face. He managed a playful grin and said, “No crying in my house. I’m not dead yet.”

The four of them crowded together, Zoey being sandwiched in between Michael’s parents whom each took a hold of either one of her hands as they urged her to tell them all about her trip to Rome. Mr. and Mrs. Katro had always welcomed Zoey with open arms, instantly taking to her maturity and charm from the second they met her, and they always made it clear to Michael that he couldn’t do much better than her. It was something that Zoey was proud of; her relationship with her boyfriend’s parents. She knew how lucky she was; not many people were as fortunate. 

That being said, when she and Michael broke things off, she was so worried about how his parents would react that she avoided seeing them, not even saying goodbye before she left. She was grateful that there were no hard feelings, but it now left her with a ton of guilt, no matter how kindly they treated her now, she had to live with the way she decided to leave the first time around. How could she go back to California now? She wanted to be here for Paul. He always treated her like family. How could she go home knowing that this time around it would be their final goodbyes? Knowing that she wouldn’t be here for his final moments? How could she leave knowing that she wouldn’t be here when Michael needed her support the most? Especially after all he did for her when Jess died. The more they talked, the more thought she put into her parents' offer of letting her move back home. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Pops was doing a good job at deflecting all of the more serious discussions surrounding his cancer, making light of the topic, and turning everything into a joke. It was a typical response of his. He was never too serious, and Zoey knew he’d react like this. It was his way of protecting his family and showing his strength, but she could see it in his eyes; he was scared. Still, the day was filled with mostly laughter and talk of old memories. 

She had stayed longer than expected. It was getting late, now, and Mrs. Katro invited her to stay for dinner, which she agreed to. So, while she cooked, Zoey, Michael, and Paul continued to talk about California. They wanted to know more about her life in LA and the new friends she made. She told them all about Nancy and Rory, her wonderful roommates who were so fun to be around. They were interested to know about their popularity, recognizing Rory’s name swirling around in the various pop-culture social media accounts, though they didn’t closely follow those kinds of tabloids. Pop-culture wasn’t necessarily in Michael’s radar. He tended to stray more towards the punk-rock scene, being in a small-town band as a guitarist, himself, which always amused her as he was the sweetest, most gentle guy she’d ever met. 

She continued informing them of her co-worker friend and confidant, Andy, as well as giving them a general summary of Brett, deciding it was probably best not to discuss the intimate details of her relationship with the Australian hunk with her ex-boyfriend and his father. Zoey didn’t even bother talking about Harry. They may not be into pop-culture, but they definitely know who Harry is, and she wasn’t exactly keen on talking about him when she still wasn’t sure what was going to become of them.

“So, I was thinking,” Michael eased, leaning his elbows onto his thighs. His skinny arms flexed a little as he looked over at her, “I don’t know what your plans for tomorrow are, but I thought maybe we can go over to Jess’s house and visit her parents.”

Zoey grinned, looking at Michael. As she said, he was always one of the sweetest guys she knew. His parents raised him well. She nodded, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Are you going to his show with us tonight?” Paul asked.

Zoey cranked her head to the side, confused, “Michael? I didn’t know he had a show tonight. Must be embarrassed to take me out in public,” she joked, “I don’t blame him.”

The father and son laughed and Michael put his hands up, “No, come. The guys would love to see you. We’re playing at Slyfox.”

“My old bar?” Zoey asked, earning a nod. She hadn’t been there since she quit after Jess died. But she had to admit, she missed her old co-workers. It might be nice to see them again. “Yeah, sure. Can we stop by my house so I can change, though?”

Just as Michael was about to say something, her phone began ringing in her pocket. She pulled it out to see Harry’s name displayed on the screen attempting to Facetime her. Paul noticed her hesitation and urged her to take it. 

“Go on, answer it. You’ve been talking to us all day, we’ll just be in the kitchen helping Carol.”

Zoey nodded, quickly excusing herself to the back deck before she answered the call and Harry’s face popped onto her screen. It was dark on his end, a soft, warm glow barely illuminating his face, making the picture grainy, but she could see the almost surprise in his eyes when he saw her.

“You answered. Wasn’t sure you would. I haven’t heard from you all day,” Harry said, his British accent sounding more foreign to her after going over twenty-four hours of not hearing him or Rory speak. 

She winced, “Sorry, I’ve been a little distracted. What’s up?”

Harry shrugged, “Not much. Met with Mitch and the boys for lunch. Talked about getting some time in the studio soon. What about you? How was your visit with Paul?”

“I’m still here, actually. But it’s going well.”

His eyes widened, but she couldn’t quite see the expression, “Oh, sorry. Do you want me to call you back tomorrow?”

“No, it’s fine. They’re just making dinner now.”

“Oh, okay,” Harry hesitated, “Well, how are they?”

Zoey sighed, pacing the length of the deck. She had been trying to remain positive, but seeing Paul like that was hard. And knowing that Michael would soon be left without a father was heart-wrenching. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to leave here in three days. How do I say goodbye to them?”

Harry frowned, nodding understandingly, “I know. It feels like you’re abandoning them, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah!” she huffed, slumping in one of their patio chairs, looking through the window to their kitchen, both parents and their son laughing with each other as they gathered around the stove, “My mom offered to turn their office into a bedroom for me if I wanted to move back here.”

“You’re moving back?” Harry sat up suddenly on his bed making the light shift on his face.

“I don’t know,” she groaned, “I was thinking about it.”

“But what about Nancy and Rory? And your job? You love it in LA.”

“I know. I just don’t know if it’s worth risking missing his final moments. Michael’s going to need me.”

“Yeah, but you can always fly back,” Harry countered, “He’ll have his mom and his friends, too.”

“I know, but…”

“I know you feel like you have a responsibility,” Harry cut her off, “but you also have a responsibility to yourself. California has been so good for you. Don’t jump into a decision yet. Just think about it.”

Zoey nodded. He was right. Moving across the country isn’t easy. She needed to weigh all of the factors before making such a big decision. She got a better look at him, his hair extra floppy, and his swallow tattoos peeking into view at the bottom half of the screen. He was shirtless.

Zoey glanced back through the window to make sure the three family members were still preoccupied before she started the conversation, “I miss you,” she said.

Harry nodded, a small smirk twitching at his lips, “I miss you, too. And that rose tattoo.”

In seconds, her mind flashed through all of their little moments in Italy; hidden kisses, discreet hand-holding, sneaking away to have sex. Did he think about it as often as she? They still needed to have a conversation. She didn’t know if she was supposed to act like it didn’t happen, or if there was some sort of expectation from her. She needed to know where to set her boundaries. 

“About that. Should we maybe talk about that, or….?” she trailed, “I just don’t really know what the expectations are. Like, is this something we’re going to explore, or was that just some sort of vacation booty call?”

She could see the discomfort as Harry tensed up. He stuttered, “I-I don’t know.”

Her heart dropped. How could he not be sure when she hadn’t been more sure of anything in years? How could he deny the chemistry and the ease of it all? “What does that mean?”

Harry’s eyes darted around, trying to find the right words to say. But the more he thought, the more he flustered he got, “You know how hard this is for me.”

“How hard?” she recoiled, offended by that response. Not because it could mean he wasn’t interested in her in that way, but because of the lack of an answer she got with it. It was a simple question. Why did he have to beat around the bush? Why was his response to a simple question so defensive? “You’re talking about the situation with Rory?” she verified, earning a slight nod from him but before Harry could speak, she interrupted, “Your excuse with Rory was that you were touring and relationships during a tour were complicated. You’re not touring now, so that must not be it.”

Harry shook his head, “No, it’s not that. I don’t know. You mean a lot to me. You know that. And believe me, Italy was amazing. Like...amazing. But I haven’t been able to talk to you the same way since.”

Zoey’s eyes furrowed at his condescending tone. She repeated, “You can’t talk to me the same way?”

Again, before Harry could respond, they were interrupted by the squeaking of the back door sliding on its track. Michael poked his head through elongating his mouth in an apologetic expression for his intrusion and softly informing her, “Sorry, just wanted to let you know that I told the guys you’d be coming tonight and they’re stoked, and I just got off the phone with Mrs. Lewis and she’s expecting us for lunch tomorrow.”

Zoey forced a smile, “Okay, great. Thanks.”

Michael nodded and shrank back inside, closing the door behind him. She turned her attention back to her phone to Harry who sat confused, “What’s going on tonight and tomorrow.”

Zoey rattled from the interruptions, shook her head, and answered, “Michael has a gig with his band at the bar I used to work at, so I’m stopping by to see some old co-workers. And tomorrow we’re going to visit Jess’s parents to see how they’re doing.” But when Harry scoffed, she was taken aback, “What was that?” she urged.

He shot back, his tone icy, “You’re sitting there forcing a conversation about the future of our relationship meanwhile you’re spending the entire weekend with your ex-boyfriend who’s still in love with you? That makes perfect sense. Is that why you want to move back there? It’s to be closer to him, not Paul, right?”

Zoey’s mouth fell, shocked by his insinuation. This is not how she wanted the conversation to go. She wasn’t expecting this to turn into an argument, and she felt stupid for not realizing that it could have. She knew that there would be consequences, she just didn’t know if it would be good or bad. She supposed this answered that question. Still, frustration rose from within her gut. Harry knew her better than most. She even hazard a guess that he knew her better than Michael. How could he even think those things?

She felt the urge to defend herself, and she did, her demeanor angrier now, as she tried her best to keep her voice down, “You’ve got to be kidding me. Harry, I’m here because a man that I love and respect is dying. And I tell you that while I’m visiting that man, who will be attending the show tonight, by the way, I’ll also be visiting the parents of my dead best friend. But you’re concerned that my ex will be with me when you should be more concerned with the fact that I have so much death surrounding me that I feel like I’m dying myself. You, of all people, should understand that,” she spat. 

Anger rose in her as she continued, “How often have I even mentioned Michael to you aside from when you’ve asked? You don’t think I would have stuck around here if I still wanted to be with him? I’m the one that ended our relationship in the first place. Meanwhile, you’re over there not even sure of what you want to do about us. I’m just another indecision in your little black book of could-be girlfriends. Another idiot that left it all out on the table just for you to shrug your shoulders at.” 

Zoey began to laugh. She couldn’t help it, she always had a bad habit of laughing at inappropriate times. But how could she not? She felt stupid to believe that she could be anything more to Harry. It was a miracle enough that he even knew who she was. But she didn’t deserve to be one of THOSE girls. If the past year has taught her anything, it’s how to love herself more. She deserved better. “You say I’m forcing this conversation, but you could just have easily told me that you didn’t want to date me and it would have been fine. I would have let it be and we could have carried on like things were. Instead, you make excuses like you always do. You say you can’t talk to me the same as you used to, but who’s fault is that? I haven’t hidden anything from you. I haven’t treated you any differently. You can’t blame a kiss on the lack of communication. The lack of communication is because of your own insecurities, not because we fucked.”

Harry listened. She knew he was hanging onto every word she said. She knew that she had plucked at one of his heartstrings by the tremble in his jaw and his unsteadiness of his hands, but he needed to hear it. She wasn’t saying any of this to be mean. She couldn’t fault him if he didn’t want to be with her, but he also needed to understand how his actions made people feel. His indecisiveness in relationships and the assumptions he makes based on nothing but jealousy affected more than just herself. And if anyone can get that through his head, she could. Even if it meant ruining their friendship.

Her demeanor had calmed, though her head and chest were still pounding. She sighed, looking at Harry through her phone, “I’m sorry you feel like you can’t talk to me anymore. Really, truly I am. You’re my best friend and I wish it weren’t that way. But if we can’t be honest with each other and say what we really feel…” she paused for a moment, contemplating whether or not she wanted to say the words. But she saw no way around it. She valued herself and her friendships more than that, “...that’s not the kind of friendship either of us deserves.”

There was a long silence. So long she was sure the sun would set any minute. Finally, Harry spoke, his voice quivering, “What are you saying?” 

Zoey’s head fell, not wanting to see the sadness in his eyes. She still wasn’t sure she was doing the right thing, but she needed to have faith in her decisions. There was too much on the line right now than to be selfish enough to force a seemingly one-sided friendship. Her voice was soft, so soft that it was barely audible in a desperate attempt to hide the shakiness as she spoke, “I’m sorry, H. I’ve got to go.”

Harry’s phone went back to the home screen as Zoey ended the call, and he stared at it, half expecting to see Zoey’s face reappear at any minute, laughing and telling him that she was just kidding. But, when that didn’t happen, he screamed and threw his phone across his living room, loudly clamoring as it collided with the bottom of the wall and bouncing several times along the hardwood floor, sliding the length of the room. Why the fuck was he like that? Why did he always have to immediately jump to offense as soon as anyone got too close or things got too uncomfortable? He did it to himself every time. She was right. Every word she spoke. 

In truth, he never suspected she thought anything more of her relationship with Michael than what she said in the past. She never gave him any reason to doubt her. Harry believed her, so he didn’t know why he would even accuse her of anything else. The accusation was impulsive to him, immediately jumping to it because that’s what typically happened when in situations like these; the girl he was interested in always left him for someone else. Just like Rory and Brett. He fucked up. He knew he did. But how does he fix it?

KEEP READING

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