#my brother in law and his eight best friends have never heard of her

[toriaurorawriter15]

Kidnap, My heart

Chapter 1: The mediation

"You want me to what, Levi Andrew Thomas!?!." 

The baffled six-foot-tall man asks the black man with green eyes and dark brown curls. 

The black man, Levi, pleads," Sh, Colin, or you will get us kicked out!" 

Colin Bridgertion has never heard anyone associate a rich person as the best option for kidnapping someone. That includes someone who is to be a well-known journalist at their school campus. 

The white Englishman brushes away his bangs while he tries to think of a way out of this situation. 

His mother, Violet, raised her eight children to be humble and keep in check on their morals. 

This absurd idea of Levi completely dismisses everything the lovely Lady Bridgerton has taught him. 

Not only is it something that could get him in trouble with the law, but how on earth is he supposed to bring some stranger to his family's summer reunion vacation? 

"Colin Bridgerton, I am asking as your best friend. Please!" Levi begs, "You are the only person who fits the credentials for this job." 

Colin's long fingers brush through his long curls as his emerald green eyes look around the study room before returning his attention towards Levi's direction. 

"Just because I come from a line of rich nobles does not mean I can get away with committing a felony!" Colin states through clench teeth. 

Levi brings his thumb and index finger up his nose to pinch it with annoyance, "I can't do this. Anyone would expect it to be me. As you know, I am Black. They always expect it from me due to the ridiculous stereotypes." 

Colin hates it when Levi uses the black victim card. Yet, he knows that Levi is right. 

"Hypothetically, If I were to do this for you. How on earth am I supposed to kidnap someone and take them with me to Los Angeles!" Colin states in a duh tone. 

Levi gave him a smirking smile," Come on, Col. Your brother owns a private jet. I am sure you could take it ." 

'This is an intriguing idea!' Colin thinks before shaking that idea out of his mind. 

For goodness sake, his mother would have his head if she were to find out. Meanwhile, Anthony would add this to the many disappointed lists of which Colin has done wrong in his life. Plus, last time he checked, kidnapping someone is a felony. 

"There is no fuckin way it will work! Ant would not lend me to the private jet." Colin protests while his right hand pulls a little of his brown hair, before finding both of his hands start pulling on his hoodie strings with anxiety. 

Levi replies, "Look, I can easily get her passport and everything else ready for her to go. All you need is to remove her from London." 

Colin breathes out a puff of air in frustration, "You are not listening, Levi." 

"Colin, this might be a life or death situation," Levi confesses. 

Confusion forms upon Colin's large forehead from Levi's statement. 

"What do you mean?" He asks while Levi looks down into his hands. 

"Penelope Featherington is my ex-girlfriend Phillipa's younger sister. That is all I can tell you." Levi states in fear. 

Colin whispers, "What type of situation is she in?" in a sharp tone. 

Levi admits, "I don't know. The last time I talked to Penelope, she asked me a bizarre question." 

"Levi, What was her question?" Colin asks with curiosity. 

Levi doesn't answer. 

"Dam it, Levi, tell me." Colin requests in rage while his right-hand bangs on the study room ikes table. 

Levi spurts out in a quick response, "If I knew someone that could kidnap her." 

Colin looks at his best friend with more questions. Yet, he isn't sure if his best friend knows all the answers. 

Again, Levi asks, "Can you do it?" 

Colin was about to say NO but surprised himself by replying, "Let me think about it." 

[naralumi]

chilumi as... high school au!

a childe x lumine headcanon/au based on the typical high school au trope!

part of my chilumi as... series

summary: student council president lumine is in charge of the new kid, ajax. he makes her feel like she's in some teen romcom, but she's trying to play it cool. he isn't even that handsome. besides, she's like... the popular girl. why would a handsome transfer student fluster her so much?

ayaka, 7:49am: are u guys meeting me for coffee before class? <3

lumine, 7:55am: just aether, i have to get to school early. responsible for the new kids orientation. lunch together? :D

perfect grades, a good reputation, solid extra curriculars and a sensible circle of friends. it was only expected that lumine would be voted as student council president in her senior year - the campaign (which she had been dreaming about since she was a freshman) wasn't quite as exciting as she had hoped, she ran uncontested. still, her best friend ayaka had helped her make signs and got her law student older brother to proofread her speeches. it was good practice for the future, or at least, would make her college applications stand out more. she needed all the help she could get to cinch an ivy league scholarship.

the one teeny-tiny issue was that, despite how good being student council president sounded in theory, it actually took up a lot of time. she was sort of the school's own personal errand girl. maintaining her 4.0 gpa, math tutoring and volunteering alongside these new responsibilities left her negative time for herself. not even for an iced latte with aether and ayaka that morning.

"i'm here," lumine knocked on the door of the staff room, crossing the threshold as the clock struck eight, out of breath from running down the street, heavy book bag in tow. her hair was stuck to her face; she must have been an absolute sight to behold. "sorry i'm late."

"you're not late, miss young" mr porter laughed, like the very notion that lumine could be capable of such a thing was ridiculous.

"in fact, i was early." a tall boy with a cheery voice, reddish brown hair and bright blue eyes stood up. lumine hadn't even noticed him in her hurry to meet her homeroom teacher.

"you're ajax?"

"yes. ajax morozov." he smiled, reaching out to shake lumine's hand. his pale skin felt soft and warm around her own; and she stared up at him, slightly intimidated by how this guy managed to be the most handsome boy she had ever seen, and also the most adorable (she was a sucker for freckles, and he seemed to have millions of tiny ones dotted across his cheeks, sprinkled like powdered sugar).

ugh, lumie, be cool.

"i'm lumine young."

"i heard you're the student council president. and a math tutor. and you do something with... horses?"

great. "mr porter told you all about me, huh?"

"i had to boast our star student! mr morozov doesn't know anyone here, his whole family just relocated from california."

"we move a lot," ajax shrugged. "enough about that."

"you... left california... for ohio?" lumine couldn't hide the horrified look that spread across her face. "you poor thing."

"why don't you give ajax a tour while it's still quiet?"

"yes, why don't i?"

**

ajax talked a lot. not in a bad way - he had questions, he was interested in everything lumine was saying, and really seemed to want to get to know her, too, not just interested in finding out where he was allowed eat and pee. it was a little bit embarrassing, though, having to talk about how she lived on a ranch with her parents and her twin brother and had to live up to all the amazing things mr porter had told him about her. like, sure, her qualities all looked good on paper, but her haircut was kind of lopsided (she was never going to forgive aether for being distracted while trimming it last week) and her breath was bad in the morning and she had a lot of dry skin in weird places. she was not perfect. but ajax, by god, ajax was. he had to be. he looked like he just stepped out of a fairy tale. he was a prince, high royalty, handsome and wealthy and well travelled (he told her he spoke five languages fluently, which made lumine's a+ in french look meaningless) and kind. all the boys at her school were kind of jerks, so she couldn't imagine how he'd fit in with them.

lumine had never been interested in looking twice at a guy in her class, but now she couldn't tear her eyes away from ajax. so unprofessional! this was meant to be about pointing out the fire exits and giving him tips on what foods to avoid in the cafeteria, not securing a prom date before the rest of the seniors realised that there was finally a hot guy in their midst.

"i'm still quite hung up on the fact you live on a ranch. that's so...,"

"it's exactly what you expected when you moved to ohio, right?"

"yeah," he laughed. "los angeles is a different world."

"i spent the summer mucking stables and teaching kids to ride ponies. not exactly hot girl stuff, but my parents paid me well."

"you worked at horse summer camp?! you're a weird horse girl!"

"hey!" lumine punched his arm. "it's not my fault! i was born into it!"

"yeah, i know all about that."

as a comfortable silence fell, she led him to the last stop on their little orientation, which was their homeroom. "so, we have to be here by 8:45 every morning. we can chill at lunch, too, but most people just sit out or go for a drive."

ajax nodded. "got it."

"come on, there's a seat next to mine that isn't assigned yet. i'll show you."

"it's definitely under the teacher's nose, right?"

"you think you know me?" she grinned. it was actually at the very back of the classroom, hers by the window, and the one that would now be ajax's in front of it. "i prefer a view. just love staring at the parking lot."

"you can stare at the back of my head now if you get bored of cars."

"noted. can i have a look at your schedule?"

"be my guest."

they took their seats and ajax reached into his pocket. "here. do we have any classes together?"

"yup. you're taking all ap?"

"moving around a lot doesn't leave me much time to make friends, so i study instead."

"well, stick with me, then. i'll make sure you don't get lost." lumine paused for a minute, unsure if it was appropriate to pry. "any reason for all the moving?"

"it's a long story."

"we have about ten minutes before everyone piles in if you feel comfortable telling it. you don't have to, though. just curious." "oh, i don't mind at all, it's just... ugh, it's boring. i always look super mysterious when i transfer schools," he shakes his head. "but it's nothing fun. my dad is a business man and his offices keep expanding, so we travel so he can help with the set up and transition period or whatever, and then it's usually onto the next one within six months. he promised that we wouldn't leave her til i graduated considering i'm a senior now, but if duty calls... well, no big deal. i'll get my credits from wherever and finally settle down when i get into college."

"that sounds rough," lumine said, gently. "do you have any siblings?"

"yeah. three younger, none of them have started high school yet, and two older ones i haven't seen in a while. it's pretty tough on the kids, i don't mind so much, but they haven't learned to not make friends or put down roots yet."

"hm. i get you. what's the point, right?" "exactly. dad says it'll be different every time, but it never really is."

"i have a proposition for you."

"really?" ajax raised his eyebrows.

"yeah. you and me. we'll be friends. no questions asked if you disappear tomorrow. i won't cry or make you feel guilty for being a terrible bestie, so you don't have to feel bad. but if you fancy riding a horse or studying for the sats together, then i'm your girl. you can even come for coffee with me before class. me, my twin brother aether, and my best friend ayaka usually carpool to starbucks and then to school because we can't survive without iced lattes. if you're down, you're welcome."

"that... sounds great."

lumine was chuffed with herself. what a great student council president she was. now, the only job remaining was to not develop a crush on ajax morozov. getting attached would be against the rules.

lumine, 8:59am: ayaka, help. i think i like the new kid. he is so beautiful and his voice is like butter and when i talk to him i feel like im gonna THROW UP. where the hell are u two. ugh now i know how u felt when you ran into miko at the pool

[youareunbearable]

Headcannon that Celebrimbor and Thranduil were childhood Frenemies because I don't like how the Mirkwood Elves were left out of everything that happened so pls enjoy this fliclet

---

Once the Feanorians touched down in Hithlum, Thingol sent his younger brother's brother in law Oropher to be his ambassador. Oropher, of course, brings his son Thranduil along because this is a great chance for diplomatic training

Maedhros, this is during the time Morgoth is sending his own persistent ambassadors, thinks it would also be a great time to start Celebrimbor on diplomatic training, because before this he was just in the forge with Curufin and Feanor. And it doesn't look like the rest of the Sons of Feanor are going to have kids so he'll be inheriting the crown one day.

So Celebrimbor and Thranduil are pushed together on children "play dates"

They hate it, they always fight with each other and have competitions and as soon as they see each other they will throw down and scream new insults they learned since the last time they met. Sometimes they spent entire visits only speaking to each other in their own native tounges and mock the other for not properly understanding what they are saying. This particular game didn't last long, but Tyelpe did become the first of the Noldor to speak Sindarin fluently with no accent and Thranduil enjoys the annoyed tick in Galadriel's typical serene expression when she hears him speak flawless Quenya with a Feanorian lisp

Oropher is concerned, being the youngest of 4 he never had an antagonistic relationship with any of them. But Maglor (the new depressed Noldor High King) just gives a small smile and shrugs. He grew up with 6 brothers and even more half cousins. Little Tyelpe and Thrandy are just playing like boys and future best friends do

And they keep up this frenenimes relationship even after Curufin moves them to Himland. When it gets sacked during Dagor Bragollach and Curufin, Celegorm, and Celebrimbor all flee south to their cousins home, Thranduil sends them some relief supplies. When Celebrimbor disown his father, Thranduil comes to visit and generally be annoying until Celebrimbor can stop feeling like shit

When Thranduil, his parents, and their people leave eastward after Thingol's death but before the second Kinslaying (for Oropher is older then the Sun and Moon, he is not about to be led by a boy not even in his 30th year, Maiar blood or not, and many Sindar agree with him) Celebrimbor travels with them and secures them safe passage through the Blue Mountains.

They both grieve when they hear of the Second Kinslaying, then the Third, and then when the East sinks under the waves. Not many in Lindon support Celebrimbor wearing the eight pointed star again, but Thranduil just rolls his eyes and tells him red looks dreadful with his complexion

During the Second Age when Thranduil gets married, Celebrimbor is invited to the wedding and vis versa when Celebrimbor marries Narvi

(Both marriages involve lots of teasing over their partners of choice. Thranduil laughs over the fact that of course a Noldor would marry a Dwarf, they are basically the same, what with their love of rocks and metal work. Celebrimbor rolls his eyes and snorts that he's surprised Thranduil didn't end up marrying an Ent, what with his love of trees, but he supposes that marrying a lady named "tree maid" is close enough. What next? Will he name his children "sapling" or "twig" or "leaf"? Thranduil shoves him off his chair, spilling wine all over the table and floor and growls that at least his children will have original names, and not share a name with two of his forefathers like Men)

They visit each other a lot during the second age, and Thranduil tries to help him as best he can during the fallout of Narvi's death, and when Celebrimbor is designing his rings of Power with that suspicious Maiar of his (who Celebrimbor SWEARS is helping him craft to work through the grief he has no other intentions) he had Thranduil (or Oropher) in mind when he created Vilya

When Thranduil heard about what happened to his friend and his land during the War of Elves and Sauron he grieved deeply. The only thing he had to remember his friend by was some forgotten blueprints of unfinished jewelry, an Age worth of letters (mostly written in Quenya, he of course had replied in proper Sindarin), a clumsy eight pointed star he laughingly embroidered onto the breast of Thranduil's favourite robe, a set of Sindarin long knives overly embellished with Noldorian swirls, and a box of white gems Celebrimbor hand crafted and left with a promise to come back once he finished his rings and use them to make a matching crown set for Thranduil and his wife to wear whenever he inherited the crown

("There may be even enough left over for a third crown. For your 'little leaf' to grow into whenever you two get around making one." Thranduil's wife laughed with Celebrimbor and sent her husband a leer that set his ears ablaze and Tyelpe's laughter began anew)

And enough regrets to haunt him for Ages. It seemed like bad things always came in three. Celebrimbor, his father, his new homeland. Thranduil led his people north, away from everything he had loved, and kept what remained close to his chest. After his wife was slain shortly after the birth of his son, he refused to lose anyone else. Greenwood the Great began to mirror his grief and became Mirkwood

It was almost another another Age before he decided to commission the Dwarves of Erebor to turn those precious white gems into the crowns Celebrimbor intended. Not for him and his now dead wife, but maybe for Legolas and his future partner. (His little leaf, he could hear Celebrimbor's laughter every time Legolas calls himself "Legolas Greenleaf" with that cheeky grin of his) And if Celebrimbor couldn't make them himself, he would be happy to let his Dwarven friends do the job for him

Thranduil almost burned down the mountain himself when they withheld those gems and one of the last pieces of his dear friend from him

Under the bone deep fear of watching a dragon from his nightmares sack the kingdom, he was a little pleased. Jewel thieves get their due

(He knows that Celebrimbor never swore his grandfather's Oath, but sometimes late at night he wonders if he still carried the curse of it. If that Oath and the Curse of Feanor are the reason his dearest friend died that awful way he did)

It was the beginning of a forth age when those sparking white gems were finally turned into the crowns they were destined to be. And Thranduil could almost hear Celebrimbor's delighted laughter as he watched his only son and heir, his little leaf, marry a dwarf.

When it came time to sail, Thranduil stayed with his people, he has coveted them for so long he now refused to leave unless he was forced too. Legolas, who had somehow made a small boat that could barely withhold the waves of the Western Sea, was greeted with a welcoming and joyful embrace by the Elf he only heard stories about

"Hail Celebrimbor, Lord of Eregion, Crafter of the Rings Of Power, Husband of Narvi son of Vilarvi of Durin's Folk, and most importantly, the dearest friend of my father!" Legolas greeted in flawless Quenya with a very noticeable Feanorian lisp. The gathered crowd twitched a little and Elrond (who was hoping of news of his sons) gave a sigh. "I have much to say, and so does my husband Gimli, but first I must give you my father's message!"

Legolas cleared his throat, and then with mock superior expression, one that made him look just like Thranduil, he said: "Celebrimbor you Spider Spawn of the Shadow, if you worked on my crown instead of those thrice damned Rings like you said, my son would never have married a Dwarf. Once I am reborn you better start running because I am going to burry you in my forest and chop down the tree you become with my anger alone!"

There was a startled gasp of silence on the shores of Valinor, before Celebrimbor burst into peels of joyful laughter. Legolas smiled at his honorary uncle and laughed with him

"As you can see, father missed you very much"

[maddiwrites]

The Hybrid (Prologue)

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Summary: The Pogues rekindle their friendship with their old childhood best friend and JJ’s first crush, Y/N. Old feelings resurface for JJ and Y/N, possibly leading to a summer neither one of them could ever forget. Due to past trauma, Y/N is reluctant to let anyone into her heart, but JJ never backs down from a challenge, even if he knows it will come back to haunt him in the end.

Note: So happy to be back with another series!!! I honestly really missed posting. Unlike Secrets of the Shore, updates will be slower because I don’t have them all written out yet. A couple things I wanted to let you know before you read. I based Y/N’s family off of Gilmore Girls. I thought they were the perfect fit for this story and the show in general and I just love their dynamic. (Including Luke who I renamed Steve for obvious reasons). Chapter 1 will explain more obviously but I wanted to give you guys a little snippet of the characters and relationships. So let me know what y'all think!

Word Count: 3.3k

Outer Banks. Paradise on Earth. It's the sort of place where you either have two jobs or two houses. Two tribes, one island. As you know, the Outer Banks is essentially divided into two groups. If we want to be blunt - it’s the rich and the poor. Figure Eight is home to the rich. Aka the Kooks. With houses bigger than necessary with extra rooms that go untouched, boats the size of homes on the Cut - the other side of the island. Most people who live on Figure Eight are your naturally raised assholes. People who don’t know the value of a dollar and take advantage of people who do most of their dirty work that lets them prance around the island with perfectly manicured fingernails. These hard workers are the Pogues. They live on the south side of the island where most Kooks wouldn’t be found dead. They serve fancy meals at the country club for shitty tips, mow lawns, and work their asses off at any other job for minimum wage. The drastic difference in lifestyles tend to cause many spats and arguments between the two communities. Especially between the teenagers who still don’t know how to control their raging emotions or know when to bite back their tongue. For the Kooks, every fight is a fight for dominance where as the Pogues fight for equality - to put the Kooks in their place. Many of these fights happen at summer parties where the two groups clash to find a good time with their friends filled with alcohol, drugs, and good music.

That’s where they find themselves tonight. The infamous Pogues. John B, JJ, Kie, Pope, and now Sarah Cameron. Although born a natural Kook, she’s earned her spot next to the adventurous teens and her boyfriend. Unlike her brother Rafe who basically is the leader of his notorious group. Topper and Kelce are his best friends who follow him blindly.

The Pogues watch them from their spot surrounding the keg. Kie purses her lips in distaste as the boys cat call for the ladies around them. Somehow most of them finding it flattering. Sarah sips on her beer to hide her embarrassment, often wondering how she and her brother grew up to be so different. Pope and John B stay mostly disinterested, only worried if they try to make a pass at an unwilling girl or fire a degrading comment at their short tempered friend. JJ Maybank is known around the island for his trouble making behavior. Usually if he gets in trouble for fights, no one ever asks who the other people were in the scuffle. Because if JJ Maybank is in the fight, he’s the one who started it, right? Wrong. In fact, JJ usually is never the one to start it. He’s good at keeping his head down and only speaking when spoken to when it comes to the Kooks - the only form of advice worth taking from his father. But his short temper is something the Kooks his age loved to take advantage of because they liked getting a rise out of him. It was like an adrenaline rush.

Luckily, tonight both groups were keeping their distance, either only talking to each other or random Tourons that have found their way to the party. This is usually JJ’s favorite part of a boneyard party. Finding his one fish in a sea of many that he can reel in just for the night and never have to worry about seeing them again.

He has his eyes set on a beautiful blonde making her way to the bonfire when all of a sudden Kie’s voice pulls him out of his trance.

“What’s she doing here?”

JJ follows her line of vision, spotting you walking down the wooden steps that lead to the beach, pulling your best friend behind you by his wrist. He first notices your smile and how it brightens up your entire face. Then of course his eyes scan down your slim but athletically toned body. You’re wearing a pair of jean shorts and a cropped white T shirt that says UNC across the chest. Who knew someone could look so good without even trying?

Well JJ did. He’s known it for a while.

“Careful. I think you’re drooling,” John B whispers in his best friend’s ear.

JJ pushes him away and mutters, “Shut up. No I’m not.”

But maybe he was.

Y/N Y/L/N is a unique resident of the island. Unlike majority of the island, she doesn’t fall in either Kook or Pogue category. She’s what everyone calls the Hybrid.

People who work hard for what they have but haven’t fallen to be Pogue status. Quite literally living in the middle in a place they call the Crest.

Your story is well versed among the gossipers of the island (which tends to be just about everybody).  And mainly that’s because of who your grandparents are.  Claude and Doris Y/L/N. Two of the riches people on the island, living in a three story house on the beach. Many people fear them, others envy them. Most feel both. Even Ward Cameron walks on egg shells around them, which is quite often, considering he works for Claude. They’re the kind of people who have never heard of Barefoot wine or Walmart. They keep their noses up and turn a blind eye to the suffering communities around them. Thirty four years ago, Doris gave birth to a daughter that couldn’t be more opposite than them. Lorelai Y/L/N was a wild child. A rule breaker. She snuck out at nights, dated boys her parents would never approve of, dabbled in breaking the law here and there. It didn’t matter how many times her parents disciplined her. She always managed to make her parents’ life a living hell. 

No one was surprised when word got passed around that Lorelai had gotten pregnant at eighteen. Although it was with another Kook, she brought shame upon her family name when she refused to get an abortion, even when her mom tried dragging her by her hair. 

Lorelai risked everything by running away from her parents’ home in the middle of a windy night. With only one suitcase, the baby daddy out of the picture, and less than a grand in her pocket, she managed to make a life for herself on the South side of the island. She worked two jobs, found an affordable apartment for cheap rent, and managed to save some money before her babies were born.

Yes, babies. As in more than one. Five months after running away from home, she gave birth to twin girls and they instantly became her entire life. With the help of her best friend Steve, who she met one month after being on her own, meeting him at his automotive shop when she very much literally rolled her junky car into the garage, she raised you and your sister on the Cut. The two of you are her greatest accomplishment. Every now and then, she mentally throws up a middle finger to everybody who doubted her, proud of who the two of you have become. 

Right before you turned ten, your mom took a business risk and opened her own Cafe. The Bikini Beans cafe, very popular amongst both Kooks and Pogues. The business did so well that she was able to move the three of you out of your shitty apartment into a beautiful one story home with three bedrooms in between the Cut and Figure Eight, aka the Crest, the summer going into your freshman year.

You actually used to be best friends with John B Routledge, JJ Maybank, and Pope Heyward. It was easier being friends with them than the girls, finding more joy in sports and rough housing than makeup and gossip. 

Doing the same summer that you moved, your mom pulled you out of Kildare County High and placed you in Outer Banks Private Academy. Aka Kook Academy. Around this time, your grandparents had also become more involved in your life, and you wondered if they had somehow bribed your mom into forcing you to transfer schools. You tried asking her during one of your many fights that started with you begging her to keep you at Kildare County High, but she quickly shut you down and told you to be grateful. That was ironic coming from the woman who ran away from the people giving her an expensive high school career. 

You had no choice but to do what your grandparents wanted and attend Kook Academy. Making friends was a lot harder there than it was in Kildare County High. You managed to make one friend in your freshman year. Andre Cortez. Due to an incident a couple years back, you built thick walls and Andre was the only one able to break them down. You were grateful for your friendship, but hanging out with him was nothing like hanging out with the Pogues. 

When you transferred schools, you lost touch with the Pogues slowly. Your life became busy with school and playing dress up for your grandparents and the boys were starting to work. Eventually all contact was cut and ever since, you’ve felt a void in your heart.

“Look,” You tell Andre. “I told you I would be your wing woman and I’m not backing down from what could possibly be the most important role in my life.”

You didn’t notice the Pogues or any of the stares around you. It’s true you’re not much of a party girl. I mean, you’ll go out here and there, have a drink or two, but you felt more comfortable at places where you weren’t surrounded by drunk and horny teenagers. 

“He’s probably not even here,” Andre says. He’s trying to look nonchalant but you notice the way his eyes dance from face to face of the people around him. 

“He told you he was going to be here, right?” You ask him with one brow raised. Andre nods. “Then, we’ll find him.”

Sarah and Kie never made any effort to talk to you at school, but to be fair, neither have you. You’ve heard mixed reviews, some people call them spoiled brats, ungrateful...some even go as far as calling them ‘The Cut Sluts.’ Of course you never take any of those things to heart. You can’t judge a book but it's cover. Plus, they’re friends with your old best friends. They can’t be that bad for John B and JJ and Pope to be hanging out with them, right?

“You think she'll come over here?” Kie asks. No one’s ever said it out loud, but her friends wonder if deep down, Kie was a little jealous of you. Because you were their first real girl friend. You were the first girl they ever let in and opened their heart too. That was a tough pill for Kie to swallow when she originally thought she was that girl. Of course the boys don’t like you any more than Kie and vice versa. But sometimes Kie wishes she could have grown up with the boys the same way you had. 

“Probably not. Unless she’s drinking,” Pope says and motions towards the keg they’re near. 

“I have an idea,” John B says and fills up a red solo cup. He hands it to JJ. “Why don’t you go offer her a cup.”

JJ snags the cup out of John B’s hand and glares at him. “Fuck off, dude.” 

“Do you guys ever see her around at school?” Pope asks the girls.

Sarah shrugs. “Not really. She doesn’t really get a long with my old group of friends.”

Kie rolls her eyes. “No one gets along with your old group of friends.”

Sarah playfully shoves Kie by the shoulder and they laugh. 

“I heard she turned down Raymond Easterling a couple weeks ago and he didn’t take it very well,” Pope says, remembering the words he heard from the kids in his class roaming the school hallways. 

Raymond goes to Kildcare County High with the Pogues. He’s known to be a trouble maker and a class clown. He works with JJ at the country club. The kid can make JJ laugh sometimes, but he wouldn’t necessarily say he likes him all that much. He can be an arrogant asshole with an ego bigger than it should be.

“She turns down everybody,” Sarah says. “Some people at my school call her ‘The Heart Sucker’ because she can pull people in with the snap of her fingers and break their heart just as quickly.”

Something stirred in the pit of JJ’s stomach.

“Hey! Where you going?” John B calls out to JJ who’s making his way deeper into the sea of people on the beach. 

“Taking advantage of a good boneyard party, my friend,” JJ calls back and slugs the rest of his beer. Looking left and right, he searches for the blonde he had eyes on earlier. Because right now, he needed a distraction. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

The party starts to die down a little after midnight. Some people leave to find another party, some are passed out in the back of their cars, and others had already found what they were looking for - someone to leave with. 

The boneyard party wasn’t as bad as you expected it to be. You had found a couple of kids from your school who were nice enough to make small talk with you while Andre left to find a guy named Devon, a Touron he’s been talking to who’s renting for the entire summer. 

Now you’re waiting for Andre to come back so the two of you can walk home. You find comfort under a slanted palm tree towards the back of the beach, scrolling through random apps on your phone to pass the time.

“Y/N?” You look up from you phone and smile when you see your former best friend inching closer to you, squinting in the dark to see if it’s really you. 

“Maybank? What are you still doing here?” You stand up and pat the sand off your hands on you thighs. 

Your heart skips a beat in your chest when you look at him. He’s beautiful. Lucious blonde hair, perfectly tanned skin, piercing blue eyes. You always knew JJ was going to grow up to be gorgeous. He was cute when he was younger. At least you always thought so. 

“I was just leaving, but I thought I saw you sitting here and wanted to make sure you were all right.” He knows it’s not like you to stay this late at a party, especially all by yourself. When he first saw you sitting there, he didn’t know if he should say something. Mostly due to nerves of seeing you again. But the other Pogues had already left and he didn’t trust anyone else at the party to be near you alone late at night. It didn’t matter if you were sober or not. 

“Aw. Was JJ Maybank worried about me?” You tease. Talking to him felt easy. As if you never stopped being friends. A few years ago, you and JJ had the best banter. Despite constantly bickering back and forth, John B always swore the two of you would get married one day. The two of you just always clicked like a natural connection. And even now, when only seeing each other every now and then for a few minutes at a time, it felt normal. You smirk when JJ rolls his eyes. “I’m kidding. Yeah, I’m okay. Just waiting for my friend to come back from his little rendezvous,” You say. 

JJ nods. “Did you have a good time? I feel like I never you see at these things.”

“Yeah. Parties aren’t really my thing. But Andre was nervous to meet this guy he’s been talking to for a little while so I came for moral support.”

“Looks like he didn’t need much of the support.”

You shrug. “It’s better that way, anyway. I don’t mind waiting for him. What about you?”

“What about me?” 

“Did you have a good time tonight? I hear your quite the ladies’ man at these things.”

“Come on, Sparky. You know better than to believe everything you hear.”

Your face lights up at the mention of your old nickname. You use to always be busting out the seams with energy. On days where the boys just wanted to chill and play video games, you would drag them to the park for a game of kick ball. Or when they wanted to sleep in after a long week, you showed up at 8 am to drag them out of bed to catch the morning waves. So one day JJ started calling you Sparky, and it stuck with the rest of your little gang. You always pretended to hate it, but secretly you loved it. 

“Oh I don’t believe everything I hear. I do, however, believe what I see. And your arm around that tall blonde in the little black dress looked quite convincing.”

You first saw JJ at the party when he was making his way to the pretty girl by the water. Your teeth involuntarily clenched and there was a twisted feeling in your stomach you couldn’t shake whenever you looked at them. 

In that instant, JJ felt grateful for the dark sky. He felt the rush of heat rise up his neck to his cheeks before he could stop it. He knew the motivation to see that girl was because of you. He just wished you never saw it. But he didn’t know why. 

“I walked her home. She wasn’t my type,” JJ plays it off. 

“I didn’t realize you had a type,” You giggle, but a small part felt relieved to hear this. “So what is it? Your type?”

Hybrids with a Pogue attitude, bright smile, beautiful eyes, and a mouth that could make any sailor turn around, JJ thought. 

“I don’t know. Haven’t figured it out yet.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Well, when you figure it out let me know.”

“Why? So you can transform into my ideal girl?” He teases.

Now you’re the one thankful for the dark sky. “In your dreams, Maybank. But so far, I do have the perfect wing-woman track record, so if you needed help -”

“I don’t think I need any help in that department. Thank you very much.”

You throw your hands up in fake surrender. “Ooo. Touchy subject.”

JJ rolls his eyes at the same time your phone pings with a text message. You pull it out of your shorts pocket and open the text from Andre, telling you to leave without him because he’s gonna stay out late with Devon and won’t know what time he’s going to be done.

“Everything all right?” JJ says, watching you read the message.

You lock your phone and stuff it in your back pocket again. “Like I said. Perfect wing-woman track record.”

“That was Andre?” 

“Yeah. He’s most likely not coming home tonight.”

“Lucky bastard.”

“At least one of us is,” You joke. 

JJ’s grin slightly falters but you don’t catch it. You have no idea how much he wishes the two of you could be equally as lucky. Together. 

“Well, I should probably go,” You say and bend down to grab your flip flops.

“Let me walk you home,” JJ offers. 

“Oh no. It’s okay -”

“You’re cute. It’s wasn’t up for debate. I’m not letting you walk back by yourself.”

You scoff lightly. “I’ll be fine.”

“Just humor me.”

You roll your eyes and smirk but choose not to argue. In fact, you’re excited to spend more time with JJ. It’s been so long.

“Fine.”

“And here I thought you might’ve grown out of your stubborn phase by now.”

You shove him playfully by the shoulder. “Shut up!”

And just like that, it felt like old times.

[helloalycia]

The Wrong Lifetime – Five // Wanda Maximoff

chapter four | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter six

author’s note: dying of cramps but didn’t wanna leave y’all hanging, so enjoy! x

Taking Wanda to Blackpool was something I couldn't stop thinking about for the past three days.

I kept telling myself that I had to remain calm, not make her feel uncomfortable with my obvious attraction to her, and to give her the best day out considering she'd never been before. It wasn't anything more than a girl spending time with her soon-to-be sister-in-law, and I had to keep reminding myself that whenever I'd feel a stir of desire in my chest at the thought her pretty smile or intoxicating gaze.

My family were thrilled when they heard of my plans with Wanda. My parents were glad I was actually making an effort to get on with her, whilst my brother was excited I was becoming 'best friends', as he put it, with his fiancé. That one stung a little, the guilt pricking my insides, but I convinced myself that that was exactly what I was doing. It wasn't wrong if I didn't think of Wanda in any way but what she was. Right?

The weekend came around quickly enough, and on Saturday morning, I met with Wanda at the train station where she waiting for me with an enthusiastic smile.

"I brought my watercolours and sketchbook so I can paint what's there," she explained as we boarded the train. "I also bought a lot of pencils in case some snap. I'm gonna draw everything I see so I don't forget a single thing."

We slid into our seats and I smiled with admiration as she continued to ramble about all of the things she wanted to do today. She looked so lively when she spoke, her hands moving about frantically to express her excitement, and her lips permanently etched into a smile when she wittered on. I didn't mean to stare, but God, she looked beautiful.

"Thank you again for doing this," she finished, head turning to mine.

Now, I'd read and written many clichés of someone falling for someone else, particularly the moment they knew they were too far gone. It was hard to believe if they were true depictions of liking someone, but I liked reading and writing them.

It was now that I learnt that they were no exaggeration, for when she looked my way with a beaming smile and glowing green eyes, I knew it was too late. There was no going back for my attraction to Wanda.

"No need to thank me," I spoke slowly, surprised I could speak at all since she'd knocked the breath from my lungs. "I'm glad you're excited."

The journey was a few hours long and we made conversation the whole way. It was the longest I'd spent alone with her since meeting her and I was intrigued by everything she had to say, hanging onto every word with all of my attention. If that wasn't enough, her accent only made everything she said sound so much better. She was naturally soft-spoken, but syllables rolled off her tongue in a silky, raspy way with her accent entwined in her words. I loved it.

At one point, the topic of our families came up and I felt like my brother came up in almost every conversation I'd had with anyone who discussed family, so I took this as my opportunity to get to know hers instead.

"What's it like to have a twin?" I asked, leaning on my elbow as I watched her attentively.

She mirrored my action playfully, though answered my question. "It's just like having a normal sibling, except they're way more annoying."

I smiled, imaging just how annoying Pietro could be as a sibling.

"I love Pietro, but he's very frustrating at times," she spoke with a hint of endearment. "He constantly throws it in my face that's he's older than me by twelve minutes. As if that makes a difference."

A chuckle flew from my lips as she pouted at her own words.

"But he's also my best friend," she said with a sigh, like that fact was irritating in itself. "He knows me better than anyone and he's the easiest person for me to talk to. I don't have to hide anything from him." She paused, glancing upwards in thought. "Well, almost anything."

Pursing my lips, I wondered what she meant as she mumbled the last part, but didn't question it. Everyone was entitled to their secrets.

"So, you and your family moved to England when you were kids, right?" I tried to recall what my parents had told me of them. "From Sokovia."

"Yes, we were about..." She scrunched up her nose as she tried to remember. "Eight years old, I think?"

"Wow, that's young," I realised.

She hummed in agreement, smile fading as her eyes fell to her hands. "Yeah... I don't remember much, but there was a lot of unrest at the time. A war. It was dangerous for everyone and my parents were lucky to get us out when they did."

I frowned, knowing some of this already, but it was sadder to hear when it was coming from Wanda herself.

"Our extended family didn't make it out," she continued to explain, voice quieter. "I didn't know them much, my parents' siblings, so it's not that sad for me. Pietro, too. But it's strange to think, you know? Especially when all of your family are around with this wedding and–" She sighed, shaking her head and looking to me with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I didn't mean to bring the mood down."

I straightened up, reassuring her instantly. "Wanda, you don't need to apologise. It's okay. I... I didn't know any of that. I'm glad you told me."

She nodded, though the regret was still present in her gaze.

"I'm sorry all of that happened," I expressed honestly, not looking away. "But I'm glad you're here, if it makes a difference. You– your family are good people."

A small, appreciative smile graced her lips. "Thank you."

I shrugged, trying to brush it off so she wouldn't notice the heat rising up my neck. "It's nothing... so Sokovia. You speak Russian and English. That's pretty bloody cool."

She laughed wholeheartedly and any hint of sadness disappeared from her face, reassuring me completely. I didn't like to see her sad, especially when there was nothing I could do to make her feel better that I knew of.

"I promise to teach you some Russian today," she said with amusement. "A few words, just to diversify your vocabulary."

"Gee, thanks."

Another laugh escaped her and I chewed on my lip to contain my grin. I could get used to that sound.

—

When we reached Blackpool, Wanda was radiating with excitement. We couldn't make it two steps anywhere before she whipped out her sketchbook and began to sketch. She wasn't kidding when she said she was going to capture everything she saw.

I was patient, since the reason we came was for her, and watched as she worked. It was cute, seeing her concentrate and trying to stop dancing around with excitement every time I showed her something new.

We walked along the promenade and dipped in and out of the shops, looking at the gifts and clothes they sold. We bought a few things to commemorate the trip, but then Wanda was quick to drag me back outside so she could sketch the view of the beach from where we were stood. The grin on her face was convincing enough for me to let her drag me wherever she wanted. She looked so happy and I didn't care about anything else.

Eventually, around lunchtime, we headed to a café to have a break from all the excitement. Or rather, a break from running around. For Wanda, it was a better opportunity to sit still and sketch some more.

"So, you're drinking what, Y/N?" she asked, not looking up from her sketches as she worked.

I looked at my tea and lowered the cup. "Er, tea?"

"In Russian," she instructed.

"Oh." I cleared my throat, remembering what she taught me earlier. "Chay."

"And what's in the chay?" she asked, lifting her eyes to meet mine patiently. "The milk?"

"Moloko," I remembered, and the proud smile on her face reassured me I was correct. My shoulders relaxed as I returned her smile. "Thanks."

"You're a natural," she assured me, before looking back to her sketchbook. "I only taught you the words. You remembered it yourself. And before you know it, ty budesh' govorit' polnymi predlozheniyami na russkom."

My mouth opened with confusion, not knowing what she said. She seemed to realise as she chuckled at my expression.

"Never mind, milaya (darling)," she said with humoured eyes, before resuming her sketching.

I breathed out, taking another sip of my tea before grabbing a fork to dig into my pasta. As I chewed, I watched Wanda move her pencil effortlessly, creating lines that somehow resulted in a perfect drawing of the horizon.

"Do you only draw and paint landscapes?" I asked curiously.

"I can do portraits, too," she answered with a nod, glancing at me. "But they're never as good."

I gave her a knowing look. "I doubt that."

She merely smiled in response, eyes meeting mine for a moment, before shaking her head with amusement and looking back to her sketches. I chuckled, leaving her to it as I enjoyed my lunch and read the newspaper.

It was nice to just sit and enjoy each other's company as we did our own thing. I'd occasionally glance up to see Wanda focused on her drawing and smile, allowing myself to appreciate the sight, before looking back down to the paper and enjoying my pasta.

By the time I finished my food, as had Wanda, she straightened up and tore a page from her sketchbook. The noise pulled me from my reading and I looked up to see her holding the paper towards me.

I quirked a brow, but she simply shook the paper, signalling for me to take it. With confusion, I took it and became speechless when I saw what she'd drawn. It was me reading the paper, the exact view she must have had from being sat opposite me. It looked exactly like me, probably better since I knew I didn't look that good, and I was amazed at her talent all over again.

"You did this just now?" I asked with disbelief, looking up at her.

She shrugged and distracted herself with her pencil. "Yeah, it's not much. It's not my specialty."

I scoffed. "You're kidding. Wanda, this is amazing!"

Bashful smile on her lips, she glanced up at me. "Maybe it's the best portrait I've done. But I think that's down to my subject."

Even when she was embarrassed, she was still capable of turning the tables on me, leaving me a flustered mess. It was like her superpower. A very annoyingly cute superpower.

"That's what you look like y'know," she continued, nodding to the paper in my hand. "When you're focused on reading. You chew your lip with thought. And you get this little crease–" she pointed between her brows with a laugh, "–right here, and you seem to forget that anything else exists."

A sweet smile spread on her face as she tilted her head, watching me with intimidating eyes, very much aware of the effect her words had on me.

"You're very observant," I said, trying not to stutter, her gaze making me nervous. "Perfect skill for an artist."

She hummed in agreement, though didn't look away. "Mere artistic observation, right?"

My heart was hammering in her chest the longer she stared, especially when her words dawned on me. I'd said the exact same thing after she confronted me about picking her ring. I wondered if she could hear my heart pounding in my ears.

Just like the first time I saw her, I was at a loss for words and couldn't look away. She was compelling, beautiful and remarkable all at once.

—

"Nebo," I said, hoping it was the correct word for 'sky' in Russian, as Wanda had taught me.

She grinned. "Yes! And horizon?"

I pulled a face as I thought carefully. "Er...gorizont?"

"The student is soon to become the master," she said, and I rolled my eyes, knowing that was anything but the truth. I appreciated her encouragement though.

"Okay, before we head to the beach, we have to buy some rock," I told her, leading her to the stall on the promenade. "I got it last time and it's so good."

She furrowed her brows. "What's that?"

I smiled at her expression. "It's a sweet. Kind of like boiled sugar that's formed into a stick of, well, rock."

She didn't seem convinced. "If you say it's good, I trust you, I guess..."

I laughed, grabbing her hand and tugging her to the stall. "You'll love it."

After getting two sticks of rock for Wanda and I, we began to walk to the sand. I glanced at the brunette, wanting to see her reaction. She eyed the hard candy before attempting to bite it, a small piece breaking off at the top. Crunching on it, she scrunched her nose up.

"It's hard," she noted, swallowing the piece. "Tasty, though."

"It's better if you suck on it, love," I let her know with a hidden smile. "Tastes much better."

She did as I said, beginning to suck on the top, and seemed to enjoy it more. Giving me a thumbs up as she sucked it, I couldn't help but laugh again. She looked adorable, so I left her to it and did the same as we walked along the sand and towards the benches in the distance.

Like a child experiencing something for the first time, she began to point excitedly at Blackpool Tower and the ferris wheel in the distance and I just kept nodding along, letting her get excited because it made my heart skip a beat every time she flashed me a smile.

When we reached the benches, I was glad that today wasn't a busy day. It wasn't exactly tourist season, so the beach was scarce of anyone but residents of the town. And even then, our side of the beach was pretty empty, giving us first dibs on a bench that wasn't broken or uncomfortable.

Settling on it, Wanda pulled her legs up and sat cross-legged so she could lean on them and pull out her watercolours. I sat beside her and leaned back, inhaling the salty air and exhaling peacefully. I never had much reason to visit here apart from when my parents took my brother and I on the occasional trip, but it was nice to appreciate the sound of the ocean washing over the sand and the seagulls squawking in the sky. A big difference compared to back home.

Another silence formed between us as she painted the water ahead, and I couldn't help but glance her way, watching her pucker her lips with concentration. All she'd wanted was this and I was glad I could finally give it to her.

So she wouldn't notice, I looked away and stared out at the blue expanse of ocean before me. I should have been appreciating its beauty, but all I could think about was how it was no contest to the girl sat beside me.

"I'm really glad you brought me here today," she said out of the blue after a while, "but I wouldn't have said yes if I'd known you would be bored."

I looked to her and saw she was still preoccupied by her painting. "I'm not bored. We came here so you could see the water and find some new subjects to paint. And that's exactly what we're doing."

She sighed, looking up at me with a questioning glance.

Smiling reassuringly, I said, "I like the quiet. And I like watching you work. You look happy. It's good to see."

She tensed her jaw, stifling a smile, but her eyes said it all. She was grateful. Of course, her eyes were also very easy to get lost in, even if she didn't mean for me to. And right now, under the sun, I found myself drowning in pools of blue.

"What are you thinking?" she asked quietly, a hint of a smile on her face.

Stupidly, I felt compelled to tell her the truth. "I'm thinking about how you have really pretty eyes."

Attempting to make me flustered yet again, her favourite hobby by now I was guessing, she raised a brow teasingly. "Oh, really?"

It didn't bother me this time though, as I maintained eye contact and felt my heart swelling with adoration. "Yes. It's like you hold all the elements in a single gaze."

Her smile faded and that's when I realised what I'd said, my heart dropping to my stomach in an instant. Swallowing hard, I looked away and shook my head. An apology was waiting on the tip of my tongue when she spoke with realisation.

"It was you."

I glanced her way nervously. "What was?"

She was staring like her mind was working something out and I was the missing piece. "The letter that Y/B/N gave me last week. He wrote the exact same thing. What you just said."

My brows knitted together with confusion, then it hit me. The love letter Y/B/N wrote. The one he assured me was for his own eyes. He'd given it to her. And I'd just gone and said the exact thing he'd written on it, no doubt passing it off as is his own words.

"Th–that wasn't me," I got out, shaking my head slowly. "I didn't even know he gave you a letter, Wanda."

She continued to watch me, eyes squinting with scepticism. I swallowed hard under her gaze, trying to think of how I could come back from this. But apparently I didn't have to, because she suddenly leaned forward and pressed her lips to mine.

My mind was foggy when her fingers rested behind my neck, tugging me closer. I closed my eyes, melting at her touch, and began to kiss her back, moving my lips against hers. She was slow and gentle with me, her lips as soft as they looked and sending the butterflies in my stomach into a frenzy. I could have kissed her forever and been content, but my brain finally caught up to my actions and I reluctantly pulled away, stunned.

Glancing around to make sure nobody saw us – there was literally nobody here – I caught my breath and looked back to Wanda. Her eyes were drawn to my lips before they flickered to meet mine, darkened with desire.

"Why did you do that?" was all I could think to ask, and I was acutely aware of her fingers still grasping my neck, the skin burning where her tips grazed.

She licked her swollen lips, expression softening. "I think I've been falling for the wrong Y/L/N."

My lips pressed together, missing the feeling of hers against them. Never in a million years did I expect her to say something like that. I thought she'd been teasing me this whole time, but now, maybe there was truth to her actions.

"Did you really mean what you said?" she asked apprehensively.

"What?"

She swallowed. "What you said about my eyes. Did you mean it?"

Well, she'd kissed me, so there was no going back now.

I nodded, noticing the hesitance in her eyes. "Yes... you're beautiful, Wanda."

She didn't say anything and the silence was deafening. I almost wanted to run back home and pretend this never happened, but that was the cowardly side of me. The other side, the disbelieving side, wanted to stay here with her and keep living in this little bubble we'd created.

"Can I kiss you again?" she finally spoke, eyes flickering between mine for confirmation.

Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded slowly, and she didn't waste another second as she leaned in once again. This time, I wasn't so surprised, so I kissed her back quickly, trying not to think about how wrong this was. How I'd been taught that this was wrong. Because I refused to believe this was wrong, that it was a sin, when it felt so damn right.

Wanda felt right.

—

When I got home later that afternoon, I couldn't stop myself from smiling.

Wanda was all that was on my mind. Everything about her was floating around up there – the contagiousness of her smile, the brightness of her eyes, the taste of her lips. When I left this morning, I wasn't expecting to return with– well, I wasn't sure what we were, but we'd decided to give whatever this was a go.

Of course, she was still engaged to my brother, but I tried not to think about that. She made me happy and maybe in a different lifetime we could have been together, but this was the wrong lifetime which meant I'd have to make some wrong decisions, this possibly being one of them.

The guilt was still present, but the adoration I had for Wanda overpowered it. The fact that she actually liked me back was too thrilling for me to even concern myself with the lack of future this relationship would have. I just wanted to enjoy what we had whilst we had it, even if it meant being together in secret.

"So, how did your trip go?" my mum asked me when I returned, looking up from her knitting.

I stifled my grin the best I could. "It was fun. Wanda loved the seaside."

My mother seemed pleased as she smiled my way. "Y/N, that's great. You know, I'm really proud of you for making an effort with her. It means a lot to everyone."

"Mhm."

"She's going to be your sister-in-law after all," she continued knowingly, "so it's good you're spending time with her. Maybe you could do it more."

I hummed in agreement, my heart fluttering at the possibility of spending more time with Wanda. "Yeah, that could be good."

"Go on upstairs, you must be tired from the travelling," she said after a moment, noticing my distant headspace. "I'm glad you had fun today."

Wanda's smile appeared in my mind again, her lips ghosting my own. I sighed contently.

"Me, too."

[theladyofdeath]

Life As We Know It {Chapter Two}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays and Thursdays. Chapters will be posted on both my and Shelby's blogs! >> @snelbz​

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby's Masterlist

Tara's Masterlist

Trigger warning: death

The vibrations beneath her pillow had nearly stopped by the time Nesta dug it out and held it up to her ear.

“Hell-hello?” she asked, barely able to keep her eyes open, barely able to get the words out.

Her eyes adjusted as she sat up and looked at the alarm clock on Feyre and Rhysand’s bedside table.

1:26 a.m.

“Is this Nesta Archeron?” a quiet, female voice asked.

It was the tone that got Nesta. 

It was the tone that had her sitting up straight, her heart slowing in her chest. “Yes, this is Nesta.”

“Nesta, this is Claire from Velaris Hospital,” she began. “There’s been an accident-.”

It was all she heard.

After that, everything became blurred and the words that Claire spoke made absolutely no sense at all.

Rhys and Feyre were supposed to be home the following evening, the last she’d heard from her sister, she and Rhys were going to dinner and then out dancing before heading back up to the cabin.

That had been a little before eight, almost six hours ago. She could hear the rain coming down, much harder than it had been when she’d gone to bed, even a few hours before. Nyx had been asleep by seven, only waking up to cry once or twice a night the whole time she’d been watching him. All in all, the weekend had been uneventful, but she was ready for Rhys and Feyre to be home, so she could go home to her townhouse, to peace and quiet and blessed, blessed silence.

But as she quickly tucked Nyx into his car seat, doing her best not to wake the sleeping baby up, she tried not to think about the phone call. She tried not to think about the firm, but steady tone of voice as she drove across town, to the hospital. 

She had been to the hospital before.

Twice in the last fifteen years.

Once when her mother passed, once her sickness finally took her.

And once again when their father passed over complications from his heart surgery.

Nesta hated that drive, hated pulling into the hospital’s parking lot. She didn’t trust it, not one bit. She hated it. Hated the ground on which it stood.

As she parked her car in front of the building, she looked in the rearview mirror. Nyx was still fast asleep, completely unaware of what was happening, completely unaware of the phone call that had just occurred only half an hour before.

There’s been an accident.

Nesta got out of the car. She shut the driver’s side and went to the back. She carefully unbuckled Nyx from his carseat and picked him up, holding him tightly against her chest as she covered him with his oldest, softest, favorite blanket. 

The parking lot was nearly empty.

Nesta carried Nyx inside.

You need to come quickly.

She found Azriel by the doors leading deeper into the hospital, calling out his name as soon as she saw him. He turned, and she nearly froze at the look on his face, the paleness and hollow look in his eyes. But she couldn’t and she hurried to where he stood, with a stone-faced doctor.

We did everything we could.

The next few minutes were a blur of explanations and condolences, but Nesta could do nothing but hold onto Nyx, still sleeping soundly in her arms. She hadn’t even realized she was crying until Azriel slid an arm around her shoulders, offering her what little comfort he could.

They’re gone.

*

They had been driving back to the cabin when the storm had hit. Both of them had been drinking, but not enough to even break the blood alcohol level. The winding roads leading up into the mountains quickly grew slick and when they hydroplaned, Rhys had lost control of the car.

With how hard it was coming down, he hadn’t even seen the ledge coming up, or how far the drop was to the bottom of the ravine.

Nesta prayed that wherever they had gone after their final breath that they were together.

And that Rhysand wouldn’t be blaming himself.

It wasn’t his fault.

She repeated that prayer one after the other until she had begun to doze in and out of sleep.

When she woke, it was nearly five in the morning.

Nyx had slept through it all, hadn’t even realized what had happened. When they got home, Nesta had laid him in his crib, where he had remained, sleeping soundly, ever since.

4:56 a.m.

Nesta had managed to sleep for nearly forty-five minutes.

That in itself was a blessing.

Yet, as she threw her legs over the side of the bed, Nesta felt guilty. How could she sleep after the news she had just received?

None of it seemed real.

Her little sister, her youngest sister.

Dead.

All that was left of their family was her and Elain. 

Her, and Elain, and Nyx, and Seph.

Dad. Mom. Feyre.

Gone.

Nesta stumbled into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. She didn’t feel a thing. After turning the faucet on, letting the cold water run for a minute, she splashed some on her face.

It didn’t bring her back to reality like she was hoping for.

She was hoping it was all a dream.

But it wasn’t.

Her legs carried her into Nyx’s nursery, where she sat for the next couple of hours, watching him sleep, peacefully. Not knowing, not realizing, not understanding his parents were never coming home.

She heard the front door open around seven-thirty, rushing down the stairs, praying that she had, in fact, dreamed it all and Rhys and Feyre would be coming inside, home a few hours early.

But it wasn’t Rhys, or Feyre. Instead, it was another familiar head of golden-brown hair, her eyes trained in the hardwood just inside the walkway. The door had barely closed before Nesta made it down the stairs and wrapped her arms around Elain.

They both collapsed, falling to their knees on the worn rug, as Elain sobbed into her sister’s shoulder.

*

The following days were a blur. A constant stream of people calling, texting, reaching out to see what could be done. Nesta and Elain handled the arrangements, with Azriel’s help, but none of them realized how prepared Feyre and Rhys had been for their own deaths.

Maybe it was because they’d both lost their parents young. Maybe it was because they didn’t want Nyx to ever have to deal with it on his own. All Nesta had to do was sign some paperwork and present their death certificates.

The funeral home had taken it from there.

She sat in the corner of the room, wearing a simple black dress that Feyre had always told her looked matronly on anyone else, but made her look like a badass CEO. It was one of her favorites. She figured Feyre would have wanted her to wear it today.

She hadn’t been able to bring herself to look into the caskets yet, to see what her sister and brother-in-law looked like, if they even looked like themselves.

She’d never be able to wipe the memory of their pale, lifeless bodies from her mind, as she and Azriel had to confirm that it was them in the hospital. Until that moment, she’d held out hope that maybe they had been wrong. That maybe someone had stolen their car and they were waiting at the bar for the rain to die down.

But even in death she couldn’t mistake their faces.

She couldn’t imagine that they looked anything like they once did, knowing that she’d never see Feyre’s bright smile or amusement sparking in Rhysand’s eyes.

The funeral dragged on, a preacher they had grown up with leading the crowd that had gathered. Nesta was asked if she wanted to say something, but she didn’t. What was there to say? There was too much to say. 

Nesta couldn’t.

So, she didn’t.

They carried the caskets out and loaded them up in the hearses. 

Nesta didn’t remember getting behind the wheel, didn’t remember loading Nyx into his carseat, didn’t remember driving to the cemetery.

And yet, she ended up standing in front of a set of holes in the ground with Nyx on her hip. Only a few words were said before the caskets were lowered into the ground.

Nesta wondered what was going through Nyx’s head. The one-year-old didn’t make a sound, not a peep as the day went on. He simply remained perfectly calm, his head resting on Nesta’s shoulder as she swayed back and forth.

“I can take him, if you want to say goodbye.”

Nesta spun around, meeting the eyes of Cassian Nazari.

He’d been crying, she could tell. If it wasn’t for the redness in his puffy eyes, Nesta surely would have snapped.

“There’s no need,” Nesta said, with an empty calmness. “I’ve already said my goodbyes.”

It was a lie, of course.

Could you ever really say goodbye to someone you loved?

He didn’t push her, just silently stepped up next to her and stared at the mounds of dirt. Nearly everyone was gone, Azriel taking a silent, distant Elain home. Mor, Emerie, Gwyn, Amren, and Varian had left just a few minutes after them. The only ones still present were those who had filled the graves, the preacher, saying a few final prayers for peace, and the three of them.

“I don’t…” His voice was rough, in a way she’d never heard it. “I keep waiting for him to call me and tell me it’s all dumbass prank,” he breathed. “That this was all some elaborate joke to get back at me for something.”

Nesta nodded, understanding. She blinked, but was unable to stop the few silent tears from sliding down her cheeks. She didn’t know what to say, but for once she agreed with Cassian.

“If you, uh, need anything…” Cassian began, before shaking his head and taking a deep breath. “If you need anything just give me a call.”

Nesta nodded once. She knew he was just saying it out of kindness due to the situation, but she supposed it was still a kind offer.

“I’ll be fine,” she said, after a moment had passed. Without giving Cassian another glance, she was turning toward her car, walking away.

Her legs became heavier with each step she took, but she continued onward until she was sitting behind the wheel of her little black car, Nyx buckled into his carseat.

He began to fuss.

Nesta understood.

Maybe he was beginning to realize that his mom and dad were never coming back.

As Nesta drove back toward the house, her vision blurred as the tears came.

*

The next few days passed by slowly. She and Nyx made it just fine, but the time seemed to drag on and on and on.

She had just put Nyx down for his afternoon nap when her phone began to ring, a number she didn’t recognize showing up on her screen.

She hesitated for a moment, not sure if she could handle another one of Rhys or Feyre’s friends offering their condolences. Their pity.

Ultimately, she grabbed her phone, swiping across the screen to answer the call.

“Nesta Archeron speaking.”

A smooth voice came from the other end of the line. “Ms. Archeron, my name is Tarquin Hadrian.”

She paused. The name didn’t seem familiar, so she cleared her throat. “How can I help you, Mr. Hadrian?”

“I’m terribly sorry for your loss, Ms. Archeron,” he began. Nesta sighed quietly, waiting for the words to continue, but he said something she wasn’t expecting. “I’m the Lunasa’s attorney. I was hoping to speak with you about their will.”

Shit. Nesta hadn’t even thought about a will, hadn’t thought about any of the plans Rhys and Feyre had made. If they’d planned everything, down to their burials and graves, surely they had prepared a last will and testament. “Of- Of course.”

“Are you free this afternoon?” He asked. “I know it’s short notice, but I’d wanted to give your family as much time as possible to grieve, however, there are some matters that need to be handled sooner rather than later.”

“Yes, I can be there any time,” she said, looking at the clock. Nyx wouldn’t be up from his nap for another hour or so, but she could figure something out. “When would you prefer?”

“Is three o’clock okay?”

After Nesta’s agreement, he was giving her the address to his office and the call was over and Nesta was calling Elain, asking to drop Nyx off on her way over. She didn’t want to wake him, nor did she think a meeting with a lawyer was a good place for a one-year-old.

An hour later, she was pulling into the parking lot of the small law office, and she froze in her car when she spied a familiar truck across the lot.

What in the hell was he doing here?

Nesta made her way inside, letting the pretty receptionist know who she was here to see and she was escorted back to a plush office.

Cassian already waited inside, sitting across the desk from a handsome, dark-skinned man.

“Ms. Archeron,” he said, standing, extending a hand. Nesta shook it with her own. She didn’t miss that Cassian merely sat there as she entered. “Thank you for meeting with me.”

“Of course,” she nodded, taking the seat next to Cassian. Neither of them acknowledged the other, which was for the best.

There was a large stack of papers on Tarquin’s desk and as he sat, he began to lead through them one by one. Sighing, he laid his hands atop the papers.

“I’m going to cut right to the chase here,” he said. “Did Feyre or Rhys talk with either of you about what should happen to Nyx in the event that both of them should die?”

A glance at each other, but they both shook their heads. Cassian said, “No.”

Another deep breath. “They...named the two of you.”

His blue eyes looked between them, and it took Nesta a moment to realize he wasn’t just speaking to her. Just as long as it took Cassian to realize the same.

As one, they both leaned forward, Nesta resting her hands on the desk, Cassian letting his elbows fall in his knees. Nesta said, “They picked us together?” at the same time Cassian asked, “I’m sorry, what?”

Tarquin cleared his throat. “I tried to advise them against it. An unmarried couple, with your own personal history…”

“I don’t understand,” Nesta said, shaking her head. “I…don’t understand.”

“Yeah, me either,” Cassian added.

“Here,” Tarquin said, handing the two of them a letter.

Neither of them reached for it, but Tarquin didn’t back down. He held out the piece of paper until Nesta snatched it and opened it up.

Cassian hovered over her as she read.

Cassian and Nesta,

We are writing this letter in case of a tragedy. Of course, we don’t expect a tragedy to happen, but you never know.

In case something does happen, you’re to take custody of Nyx. Both of you. We know you two don’t get along, but if something were to happen to us, we need you. You see, we want Nyx to have a mom and a dad. We want him to have two people who love and support him no matter what.

There’s a reason we chose you both to be godparents.

Nesta, you have a heart bigger than anyone we’ve ever met, even though you don’t often show it. When you care about someone, you care about them wholeheartedly. You devote your life to them. You make them feel loved, make them feel wanted, make them feel protected. And we know you care about Nyx.

Cass, you love more fiercely than anyone we have ever known. You were dealt a poor hand as a child, and instead of making you bitter, it made you stronger. It made you realize how you want others to be treated, instead of the opposite. You would make an incredible father. Therefore, we made you godfather.

The two of you are opposite halves of the same coin. One of you cannot succeed without the other, even though you’d both probably argue against that statement.

Look.

If you’re reading this, it means that something awful has happened. If you’re reading this, it means that we are gone. And, if we are gone, Nyx needs someone. He needs his godparents.

We know you’re scared. We know you’re heartbroken. But, if you love us, the two of you will work together to create a family-like environment for Nyx.

We love you both.

We believe in you both.

Tell Nyx we love him, too. So damn much.

Rhysand and Feyre

Nesta’s hands shook as she lowered the letter. “We… The two of us can’t… We can barely be in the same room as each other, much less take care of a child.”

“As I said, I advised them against this, especially once they explained your personal history to me,” Tarquin said, leaning back in his chair. He laid a hand atop the paper on his desk again. “As I mentioned before, they were very thorough in their planning, even going so far as to put a sum of a portion of their life insurance to pay off the mortgage of their home. They’ve left it to the two of you as well, to ensure Nyx has the easiest time possible. No on and off weekends, no moving back and forth.”

Nesta was still processing his words, when Cassian asked, “Wait, so we’re supposed to live together? Not only take care of him, which I’ll do anyways, but live in the same house?”

With a blink, Nesta looked at him. “You’ll take care of him? I’ve been taking care of him for over a week now.”

“Well, he’s my responsibility, too,” he replied, practically snarling at her. “I’m not going to disrespect Rhys’s wishes by shirking it off on someone else.”

Nesta was about to say something else, was ready to snap, but Tarquin cut her off. “It was my duty to give you the letter, per their will. What you do with it is up to you.”

Nesta left twenty minutes later, ready to set the entire city on fire. She burst out the front doors but didn’t leave alone. Cassian was just behind her, right on her heels, calling her name.

“I’m his godfather and I’m not letting Rhys down,” he said. 

She wasn’t backing down, either. “You realize this isn’t a part time job, right? This is a lifetime commitment, Cassian-.”

“You think I don’t know that?” He asked, stopping in front of her. He paused and blinked, as if he’d just realized she didn’t have him with her. “Where is he?”

She scoffed. “With Elain and Seph. I didn’t want to bring him because I wasn’t sure what this meeting would entail. He’d just gone down for a nap and I didn’t want to mess his schedule up.”

She watched as the words registered, watched as he processed them. He probably didn’t even know Nyx had a nap schedule, and he sure as hell didn’t know what it was.

Nevermind the fact that she hadn’t known it the week before, when Feyre had explained it to her before they’d left. Before they’d-.

Tears stung her eyes, trying to spill over as they always did when she thought about her sister, about Rhys. The fire inside her, the will to fight with Cassian, disappeared almost immediately.

“I need to go get him,” she said, adjusting the purse strap on her shoulder, stepping off the curb towards her car.

Cassian didn’t follow her, and when she pulled out of the parking lot, he was still standing in front of the law offices, looking as lost as she felt.

[rowyn-writes]

Mending A Broken Heart (Jared x Reader)

Warnings: SMUT, breeding kink, unprotected sex, (wrap it before you tap it, kids,) oral sex, female receiving, slight praise kink, angst, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of non-con, mentions of cheating, reader has PCOS, fluff, strong language.

Pairings: Jared x Reader

Characters: Jared, Jensen, Danneel, JJ Ackles, Misha (mentioned only)

Word count: 3.7k

Summary: You get a call from you older sister, Danneel, saying that she is in labor. When you arrive, your first niece is being born. You call your soon to be husband to inform him of JJ's birth, only to have a woman answer his phone.

You were on a mission.

You walked with purpose through the hallways of the hospital, not even stopping when a nurse asked if you needed help. You were Y/N Graul. You didn't need help to find your sisters freaking room.

"Ackles." You said, approaching two men. "Padalecki. How's my sister?" Just as the words left your mouth, you heard an ear piercing scream. "That answers that question." You pushed past them and into Danneel's delivery room.

"Ma'am, you can't be in here!" The doctor ordered.

"She's my sister." Danneel waved her off. "She can be here." The mother to be let out another groan of pain. You grabbed her hand, letting Danneel use it to relieve some of her pain. You winced slightly. Your sister had a strong grip.

You didn't understand how women could all over the world could go through this pain. Especially those without epidurals. 

"I want Jensen!" She cried.

You nodded, quickly making your way out into the hall. "Ackles! Get your ass in here!" Jensen gave Jared a scared look before following you inside.

"I'm here, sweetheart." He assured her as he took your place. You hid your smile at brother-in-law's kindness. You and Jensen never got along, mostly because you were so alike. You were both hard headed, but you had a big heart. You'd never say, but you secretly liked him.

"C'mon, Dannie," You encouraged, coming on the other side of her. "You've got this. Push!"

Danneel yelled once more, gripping both of your hands and she tried to push. "No! No, no, no. I can't do this!" She whined.

"You can and you will!" You demanded. "You are Danneel Ackles, you are a badass, powerful woman and you will be a great mother! All you have to do is push!"

"Easier said that done!" Danneel barked, her  auburn hair sticking to her forehead with sweat.

"We're almost there, Mrs. Ackles! One more push!" And with one last scream, and one last push, Danneel fell back on the bed, panting heavily. There was a small cry that pierced through the room, which caused the three adults to look over at the doctor.

"Congratulations," She smiled softly. "You just gave birth to a healthy baby girl."

Danneel and Jensen shared wide smiles as their newborn baby girl was set into their arms. "She's beautiful." Jensen whispered. "She has your eyes."

"She has your nose." Danneel looked over at you, her eyes filled with joy. "Y/N, can you give us a minute?"

"Of course, Dannie." You kissed her forehead. "I'm so happy for you."

You exited the room, only to find Jared pacing back and forth. "How are they? Danneel stopped screaming. Is she okay?" He asked, worry written across his face.

"They're okay. Better than okay, actually. Danneel just became a mother to a beautiful baby girl." You beamed proudly.

Jared let out a relieved laugh as he surged forward to hug you. You stood stiffly in his hold, unsure of what to do. You weren't used to physical affection, as your boyfriend rarely held you anymore. The last time you had been this close to Jared was at Jensen and Danneel's wedding when you both walked down the aisle together.

You slowly wrapped your arms around him, patting his back awkwardly. "Sorry," He apologized sheepishly. "I'm a hugger."

"So I've noticed." You said, stepping away. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some exciting news to share with my family."

You found an empty hallway and began to call every family member you could think of. Gino was first, obviously. You knew how excited he was when he found out Danneel was pregnant. Your parents were next, and then your cousins, aunts, uncles, etc.

You cringed as you looked at the last name on your contacts. Will.

You hadn't been on very good terms as of late. The two of you had been fighting constantly, especially after you found out Danneel was pregnant. You were beyond happy for her and Jensen; they were finally starting the family they had always dreamed about.

Fuck it. You might as well get it over with. It rang three times before it was finally answered. "Hello?" An unfamiliar female voice said.

"Uh, who is this?" You questioned, starting to get defensive. It was four o'clock in the morning in Vermont.

"Lacy," She answered simply.

"And what are you doing with my fiance's phone, Lacy?"

"Who is it, babe?" You heard Will in the background.

"It's your fiance, William. The one that I didn't know you had!" Lacy screamed. "You asshole! I can't believe you cheated! And I can't believe you dragged me into it! We're done!" You felt your throat close up, your eyes began to well up with tears.

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry. You kept repeating to yourself. This was the happiest day of Jensen and Danneel's life, you couldn't bring them down.

"Y/N, baby, this really isn't what it sounds like." Will claimed after Lacy threw his phone at him. 

"No, Will, I think it's exactly what it sounds like." You whispered harshly. "You cheated. After three years, you cheated on me."

"Well you didn't give me much of a choice, did you?" He growled.

"Excuse me?"

"You haven't let me touch you in almost eight months. What else was I supposed to do? I have needs, Y/N."

"You know why we haven't done anything!" You hissed, tears running down your face. "You know exactly why!"

"Can't you just get over it! God, Y/N, we could always try again!" He yelled.

"Get over it? Get over it?! I lost my baby and you just want me to get over it! I can't just forget about it, Will. I should be having  my baby - our baby - in five weeks. July ninth."

"You know what I mean, Y/N. Of course I don't want you to forget about the baby, but we could always try again! It wasn't the end of the world!"

"Yes, it was, Will! You know how hard it is for me to get pregnant ever since I was diagnosed with PCOS-"

"It always comes back to that! 'Sorry, I can't have sex with you today because I feel bloated,' or 'Sorry I'm acting so down, my depression is bad today.' You use PCOS as an excuse to everything!"

You stayed silent for a moment, trying to calm yourself. "It was never going to work, was it?" You said quietly. "We both want kids, but I can't give you that. I can't give you a lot of things, apparently. When I come back, I want you out of my house. I'm going to be staying with Danneel and Jensen for a while. They're going to need some help with the new baby. It's a girl, just in case you were wondering." You hung up the phone, taking in a shaky breath.

"Son of a bitch!" You wailed as you threw your phone against the wall. You slowly slid to the floor, putting your head in your hands. You tried to quiet your sobs by biting your lip, which only caused your mouth to be filled with a metallic liquid.

Get it together, Y/N. You wiped the tears off your face, trying to calm yourself down. You couldn't believe this was happening. Your sister, your best friend, just gave birth to a healthy daughter. You should be celebrating, not crying over your crappy fiance. Ex fiance. 

You picked yourself off the floor, grabbing your phone as you did so. Of course it was shattered. You quickly went to the bathroom, your puffy face startling you. You splashed cold water on your face, which got rid of it for the most part.

You made your way back to Danneel's room, where the atmosphere was happy and joyful. Something that made your mood lighten just a fraction. "Hey Mama! How are you?"

"Doped up on pain meds," She grinned. "Having a baby really hurts. I knew it would hurt, I mean, I've seen the videos, but damn, that was awful." You laughed as you brushed her hair back.

"What's her name?"

"Justice Jay Ackles." Jensen answered, bringing your niece forward. "JJ for short. Do you want to hold her?"

You nodded eagerly as JJ was set into your arms. She began to fuss a little, reaching out for her father. "Shh, shh." You cooed. "It's okay, sweet JJ. I'm your Auntie Y/N/N. You'll get to meet the others soon enough. They're going to love you, just like your mommy and daddy love you. You are going to have a whole village looking after you, did you know that? Yeah, you have me, your uncle Gino, that's mommy's brother. Then you have your uncle Josh and Aunt Mack, that's your daddy's siblings. Then of course you have Uncle Jared and Misha. Those are daddy's best friends."

Jared and Jensen smiled at you. You were already so in love with JJ. "Danneel's knocked out." Jensen whispered. "The nurse wants to take JJ up to the nursery while she sleeps." You nodded as you handed over the baby. "Alright, I'm gonna go get us some food. You guys want anything?"

"No, I'm good." You shook your head.

"Same." Jared agreed.

And with that, Jensen left you and Jared alone with a sleeping Danneel. You grabbed your phone out of your back pocket and tried to turn it on. Just your luck, the screen stayed black. That's what you get for throwing your phone at the wall.

"What in the hell happened to your phone, Y/N?" Jared questioned.

"It fell out of my pocket." You lied. "I guess I'll have to buy and new one."

"Damn, that sucks." He frowned. You gave a small shrug, not saying much of anything. "Are you okay, Y/N? You don't seem like yourself."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, normally you like to take jabs at me and Jensen. Hell, the only one you really like is Misha. Plus, ever since you came back in the room, you've been frowning and your eyes are still puffy from where I know you've been crying." You felt your heart sink to your stomach. "I know you don't like me very much, or Jensen, for that matter, but we do care. What's wrong?"

You stayed silent for a moment, trying to sort out your words. "I can't say it here. Follow me."

You grabbed Jared by the hand and led him to where the nursery is. You needed something happy to cheer you up.

"Let me start this by saying that I don't hate you or Jensen." You didn't take your eyes off the adorable babies, but your hand was still brushing up against his. "I have known you both for a while now, and I care about you guys. Making jabs and snarky comments is how I show that I care." You could see Jared smiling out of the corner of your eye.

"I called Will this morning to tell him that Danneel had the baby." You saw Jared's smile fade slightly. "A woman answered his phone, and usually I wouldn't think anything of it. I would make an excuse that it's his secretary or assistant, but it was four a.m in Vermont when I called. Her name was Lacy." Your voice cracked.  "And it's my fault!"

"Y/N, it's not your fault-"

"But it is, Jare," You whispered. "It is. I pushed him away for months. Do you know how long it's been? Eight months. It's been eight months, Jared. And Will 'has needs.'"

"That's the dumbest excuse ever." He mumbled.

"This next part. . . I haven't told anyone but Will. Not Danneel, not Gino, not my parents, anyone. So you have to promise not to tell anyone. I'll tell my family once I'm ready, but for now, they don't need to know."

Jared's frown deepened. "I won't say anything, Y/N, I promise. Are you okay?"

"No," You shook your head. "I haven't been okay for a while now." You took a deep breath before continuing. "Last year I was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovary Syndrome – PCOS for short."

"Yeah, I've heard of it." Jared said softly, his eyes filled with pity.

"Will and I had been trying so hard for a baby. And when we found out I had PCOS, we stopped. And I was heartbroken. I've wanted to start a family for so long, and to get that news hurt me. And it hurt Will." You felt your hands start to shake.

"One night after I had one too many drinks, I passed out on the couch, and I woke up the next morning in my bed with all my clothes off and Will lying in my bed beside me. I don't know what happened that night, but I know I didn't want it. And four weeks later I found out I was pregnant." Jared's jaw clenched and his eyes held something malicious.

"I didn't care how it happened. I know I should have, but I was just so excited to have a baby. To be a mother. And then when I went to my OBGYN, she told me I had. . . I had a miscarriage."

"Oh, Y/N," Jared said sadly, resting his hand on your shoulder.

"I lost my baby. And I don't know what to do with myself, Jare." You cried. "W-what am I supposed to do?"

You were shaking uncontrollably now, unable to calm down. "That m-might have been my only chance!" Jared swallowed hard as he brought you in for a hug. "I want my baby!" You wailed.

"I know," He whispered as he gripped you tight. "I know, honey. I am so sorry. This is so unfair to you. You deserve so much better than this."

"What if it was my last chance?" You sniffed.

"It wasn't," He assured you as he rocked you back and forth. "There are fertilization treatments, surrogacy, adoption. . . You'll be a mother one day, Y/N, and you'll be the best mother a child could ever ask for."

"Really?" You asked in a small voice, looking up at the tall man. He smiled as he brushed back a piece of your hair and wiped away your tears.

"Really."

You felt your heart beating out of your chest and your breaths quickening. "Jared,"

"Yeah?"

"Kiss me."

He didn't have to be told twice as he leaned down to kiss your lips. He cupped your face with both of his hands, bringing you closer to him. "Mm," He moaned, pulling away. "Not in front of the babies. They're too young to be scarred this way." You laughed as he dragged you away to a bathroom, making sure no one was in there before locking the door.

Jared grabbed you by the waist and gently pushed you against the wall. He wasted no time as he pressed his lips against yours once more. His tongue slid across your lower lip, asking for permission to enter, which you happily granted.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to pull him closer. Jared put his hand on the back of your thigh, encouraging you to jump. You got the memo as you lifted yourself up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He moved and set you down on the counter.

"Do you want to keep going?" Jared asked, breathless.

"Yes," You nodded, your face flushed. "Please, Jare." He groaned at the nickname.

"I love it when you call me that." He said as he ran kisses down your jaw and to your neck.

SMUT UNDER THE CUT

"And I. . . Love it when. . . You kiss my neck like that." You panted as you began to unbutton Jared's shirt. You ran your hands across his abs and looped your fingers around his belt buckle.

"You are far too overdressed." Jared complained as he tugged at the hem of your shirt.

"Why don't you fix that for me?" You smirked. There was a mischievous sparkle in his eyes as he pulled your shirt off your body.

You covered your stomach as you suddenly felt shy when Jared's eyes raked over your body. He frowned as he pulled your arms away. "Why are you hiding from me?"

"I- I dunno. It's just. . . All the girls you've been with in the past like Gen and Sandra are so beautiful and I look nothing like them -"

"Let me stop you right there," Jared said sternly. "You are gorgeous and incredibly sexy. Don't you dare compare yourself to them, because they could never be as beautiful as you. Don't let any asshole tell you otherwise. Do you understand?" You nodded slowly, fighting off the smile that crept onto your face. "Good, now let's pick up where we left off, shall we?"

Jared pulled down your jeans and tossed them aside, along with your panties. He looked at you like he hadn't eaten in days and you were a four course meal.

He began to trail kisses up your thighs, getting so close to where you wanted him to be only for him to pull away. "Quite being such a tease!" You growled.

Jared have you a smirk. "Yes ma'am." And with that he pulled you forward slightly so you were sitting on the edge of the counter. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion before a wave of euphoria hit as you felt Jared's tongue on your clit.

"Oh-" You moaned, only for Jared to cover your mouth with his hand.

"Shh, you wouldn't want anyone to hear, would you?" He questioned. You shook your head, desperate for him to return to where he was. "Be a good girl for me and stay quiet." His kissed you on the mouth before going back to eating you out. You bit your lip in attempts to silence your moans.

"Fuck," You whispered as you leaned your head back. Jared began to tease your hole with his tongue, making you gasp and grab onto his long locks.

You felt warmth spread through your stomach and a familiar coil began to tighten. "Oh, god, Jare, please keep going!" You encouraged him. "I'm so close."

At those words, Jared pulled away abruptly, making you want to cry out. "Sorry babygirl, you can only come when I say you can."

You frowned at his words. "Don't worry, I'll make sure you enjoy it." He winked. Jared began to unbuckle his belt; you could see his growing erection through his jeans. "I don't have a condom." He said defeated. "Are you clean?"

You nodded. "What about you?"

"Yeah, I'm all good." He assured you.

"Then we should be fine, it's not like I can get pregnant anyways."

"You never know." Jared said as he nipped at your neck. As he left love bites on your neck, you began to pull down his jeans, revealing his hardon. You pushed yourself off the counter and got on your knees, only for Jared to pull you back up.

"Not this time, kitten. This is about you, not me."

"But I want to make you feel good." You protested.

"Next time, baby." You smiled at the thought of a next time. He quickly turned you around so you were bent over the counter. "You're so wet." He growled as he grinded against you. "All this for me?"

"Yes, Jare. Only for you." You panted, desperate for his cock.

"Good," He murmured against your neck. "I've been waiting a while for this to happen, there is no way I'm letting it go to waste. Do you still want this?" He questioned, wanting to make sure you were still comfortable with it.

"If you stopped now I might have to kill you." Jared slowly pushed into you, as he didn't want to hurt you. You gasped in surprise; you had never been with someone as big as him. He gave you time to adjust to his size. "Move." You pleaded.

Jared chuckled as he slowly began to thrust into you. He grunted at the feeling of your warmth. "Fuck, Y/N." He moaned. "You're so fucking tight."

He began to pick up speed, which earned a moan from you. Jared put his hand over your mouth to silence your sounds, but you could still hear you skin slapping together.

"Oh, fuck." He growled. "I'm gonna cum. Gonna fill you with my seed, make you all round. God, you'd look so fucking sexy carrying my baby." Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at his words, causing your walls to clench around his dick. "Would you like that, huh? Being so full of my cum that it runs down you legs."

"Oh, fuck yes." You nodded. "Please, Jared, fill me with your cum. Make me carry your child." You begged.

Jared gripped your hips tightly, (definitely leaving bruises) as he rammed into you. You struggled to keep quiet, as all you wanted to do was scream from pleasure. "You're going to look so good filled with my cum." He purred.

"Let me cum with you." You whined, the coil in your stomach was ready to snap.

"I'm so close." He grunted, sweat dotting his brow. "Cum with me, babygirl. Cum." He demanded.

You shuttered as your coil finally snapped and you rode out your orgasm on Jared's dick. He followed soon after you, blowing his load into your womb.

"Holy shit," You muttered. "That was so fucking hot."

"You're telling me." Jared said as he slowly pulled out, making you feel empty. You began to clean yourself up and put your clothes back on.

You both looked a mess; swollen lips, messy hair and to top it all of, hickeys scattered your neck. You reached up on your tip toes to flatten Jared's hair. "At least our hair covers the bruises." You grinned.

"So, what happens next?" Jared questioned.

"I guess that's up to you." You shrugged. "We can either go on a date and see how this plays out, or we can forget this ever happened."

"I don't want to forget." He shook his head. "I don't think I could forget."

"Good," You smiled. "I was hoping you would say that." Jared grinned as he leaned down to kiss you once more.

"I have a really good feeling about this."

[calif0rnia-lovers]

Lover of Mine #5.5 | Angel Reyes.

Series Masterlist | join my gc for updates since tags are acting weird

title: For Better, or For Worse.

rating: 💙 💔

As long as you're feeling the same, I'll follow you into the flames

sum: angel fears once it's out, his secret will be the final push you need to leave. instead of confessing, he sticks out the couple's retreat to give himself a few more days with you. he makes himself a promise: he'll tell you once you two return to santo padre. but a ghost from his past pushes angel's agenda forward a few days.

words: the standard for this series....long af (that's why I break it into sections so you know where to come back to when you take a break...but seriously, please take breaks on these long ass chapters)

Ez Reyes is a smart man. There is no denying it. However, Ez never thought he would struggle to tie a tie.

He is currently outside of his father’s truck. Kneeling before his nephew, Ez concentrates as he works through the instructions he Youtube’d earlier. A usually chatty Jeyson has been silent. He slept the entire hour's drive to school. When his Uncle woke him, Jeyson shot Ez a glare that reminded him of you.

Jeyson was fine the entire weekend that you were gone, but the moment he woke up this Monday to find you had not returned his entire mood changed. He has fought Ez tooth and nail the entire morning.

Ez glances up from the tie to Jeyson. “Hey, you sure you wanna go to school today?”

“I have to go to school” Jeyson mumbles.

“Yeah, but sometimes it doesn’t hurt to take a break.” Ez offers Jeyson a smile. “If you’re not having a good day, it’s okay to stay home.”

“I don’t want to stay home with you.”

“That’s okay,” Ez chuckles. “What about Izzy?”

“I don’t want to stay home with her either.” Jeyson releases a huff before glancing down at his now fixed tie. He bends down to pick up his backpack. Slipping it onto his shoulder, Jeyson steps around his Uncle. “I want my mom to come home.”

Tommy’s gaze remains on the sleeve of his blue Stockton uniform. His fingers tug at the loose string resting against his wrist. He ignores the smirk on his older brother’s face. The passing of time has muddled the bruises on Tommy’s skin. The mixture of black and yellow stood out on the parts of him he's allowed to remain visible. No matter how he sits, the pain in his ribs is inescapable. Sleep has fallen to the way-side, the inability to get comfortable meaning he only gets it once he’s passed out from exhaustion.

“You didn’t tell me she was hot. Now I know why you were sticking up for her the other day--”

“I didn’t notice. I’m more worried about her getting me out of here.”

“Uh-huh.” Leo’s eyes roll as he watches his brother’s eyes pass over the crowded visiting center. “I’m just saying—”

“What’d you find?” Tommy’s fingers massage his temple, the irritation in his voice amplified by his brother’s antics. Lack of sleep and around-the-clock oversight and antics from Rogers has cut his fuse short. “If you didn’t find anything, you could've saved yourself a trip up here—and I could be asleep.”

“She’s not married—unless she has a habit of leaving her rings at home.”

“What? On the table?”

Leo shakes his head. “No. A jewelry box in the bedroom.”

“What about the kid?” “He has to be about eight, or nine? Name’s Jeyson. You were right, he’s definitely Angel’s. Wish I could show you the picture. He couldn’t deny that kid if he tried.”

“Yeah.” Tommy nods impatiently, motioning for him to continue. “What else?”

“Kid goes to some boujee ass prep school up north. Gilman something? Embroidered blazers, ties, the whole nine. His mom’s paying a pretty penny too, apparently, it's the best in the state. He’s into the typical shit kids are into. Star Wars, Spider-Man. Plays the piano, apparently, he’s actually really fucking good. Awards and all. His mom’s got him pretty busy. A lot of after-school activities. Looks like she and Angel rotate transportation...She must not be around right now tho.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Apart from the fact you’re still not transported to a new unit?” Leo scoffs. “The kid was with someone else when I was scouting. A girl and a kid with a prospect patch.”

“Mayans?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe his little brother...last I heard he was hemmed up here. Haven’t seen him around tho.”

“Maybe he got out?”

Tommy dismisses Leo’s suggestion. “Most cop killers don’t walk free. What else?”

“He’s not doing a good job of keeping his nephew safe. I talked to the kid.”

Tommy’s eyes open. “You did what?”

“He walked right off with me.” Leo quietly explains. He mistakes his brother’s silence as a cue to move forward with his story. “His uncle was so into his date he didn’t even notice the kid walk off with me--”

The sight of Tommy’s hand running down his face tapers the rest of Leo’s statement.

His voice comes out low, through his clenched teeth. “I didn’t tell you to touch the kid.”

“I didn’t touch the kid,” Leo’s eyes rolled. “I got him a funnel cake—” “I don’t give a fuck—” the slamming of Tommy’s fist against the table brings the room to a brief silence. The eyes that he has attracted linger on Tommy as his glare nearly burns a hole through his brother. Rogers shrugs off the wall nearby. He takes a step of warning in Tommy’s direction. “—what you did, Leo—it was stupid.”

“How else was I supposed to get him to talk to me?”

Tommy’s response comes out slowly. Each passing word increases his irritation.

“You didn’t need him to talk to you because I didn’t ask you to talk to him. Buying him a funnel cake, or whatever the fuck your grand plan was allowed the kid to see your face. He can open up his mouth and ID you—”

“ID me,” Leo snorts, dismissing Tommy’s claim. “Relax, Tommy. He’s not a state witness, he’s a kid—“

“Yeah, and according to you and his 'boujee ass prep school,' he’s a smart ass fucking kid, Leo.” Tommy lets out a long sigh. “The last thing I need is the kid opening his mouth to his mom about some random guy approaching him.”

“Don’t worry, I played it cool. Told him I was a friend of his dad. Maybe, if you had told me exactly why I went there I wouldn’t—”

It was something Tommy had explained to his brother during their last visit. The less you know, the better.

“I already told you,” Tommy rubs at his temple, the sudden throbbing causing his jaw to clench. “I needed to double-check something.”

“And that’s what I did.” Leo sighs. “What I want to know is, why the fuck you called me all the way down here to check pictures in some house.”

Tommy studies his brother for a moment. He shifts forward, his elbows settling against the table.

“You wanna know why I didn’t tell you? You don’t think, Leo. I ask you to do one thing—one fucking thing—and you almost fuck it up. If I wanted you to think I wouldn’t have told you exactly what to do.” Leo’s jaw tightens as his brother continues. “You trying to think leads to you doing dumb shit like kidnapping her fucking son—”

“I didn’t kidnap him,” Leo mumbles.

Tommy’s fingers massage his clenched fist. “You’re lucky I can’t reach across this fucking table right now.”

Leo’s gaze drops from his brothers. The look that lies in Tommy’s eyes is one he’s seen before—at least not directed at him. It’s the look that accompanied the acts that earned Tommy his nickname. Leo’s gaze nervously shifts towards Rogers who is still watching Tommy from his post.

“What do you want with her? Thinking she’s gonna give you a shot? Criminal is her type, and she’s definitely yours.”

“It’s not her I need. It’s Angel.” Tommy starts, his jaw tightening as his gaze remains on Leo. “And if you want Angel, you need her.”

“If she’s as good as you say, what do you need Angel for? You’ve been talking about her like she might actually get you off.”

Leo steals a brave glance at his brother. He watches as Tommy looks up from his tattooed knuckles.

“No matter how hard you pray, people like me and you don't come out on the right side of the law. No matter how fucking good she is, she can't get me out of this. This shit is stacked too high against me." Tommy’s gaze shifts to the clock overhead. “Did you find the necklace?”

Leo nods as Tommy stands.

“Good, go ahead and do what I asked.” Tommy pauses, his voice lowering as his gaze meets his brothers. “Nothing else, Leonardo. The time I'm looking at right now, I’ll fucking kill you right here if you pull some shit like that again.”

At some point Monday night, Angel abandoned his spot on the sofa to crawl into bed with you. His intention may have been to take one side of the bed, but to no surprise, he has failed.

You came to this revelation at two o’clock in the morning when you tried to roll over but found it to be impossible. You have been stuck on your back ever since. You attempted to fall back asleep but have not been able to.

Cheek pressed against your chest, arm wrapped around your waist, Angel hasn’t moved. He doesn’t move when your alarm goes off at 7:30 or when the knock comes on the door at 8:00.

The sleep Angel lost, the past two days over Tommy seems to have piled onto him. He only wakes when your fingers brush through his hair, the warmth of your touch lingering against his cheek.

“You have to get up and eat something.”

“I’m not hungry.” Angel mumbles. The sunlight peeking through the curtains prompts him to burrow his face against your neck. “I’m tired.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” you smile softly. “But, I’m hungry, and I can’t get our food with you laying on top of me.”

Your words are met with a huff before Angel rolls over. Resting on his back, he watches the fan spin as you get out of bed.

His first instinct is to check his phone. He pushes himself up, his body protesting with the sudden movement, once he realizes his cellphone is not where he left it.

“Where’s my phone?”

His palms pressed against his eyes as he pushes away the enticing thought of laying back down for a few more hours of sleep.

“It kept going off,” you look up from the plate in your hand. “Ezekiel kept texting you.”

“What did he want?”

Angel watches you shrug. “I don’t know. I put it in the drawer. I tried to wake you up, but you were literally dead.”

Angel releases a sigh of relief before reaching over to open the bedside drawer. Facedown, his phone has several notifications. He ignores the rest, focusing on those from his younger brother.

2:30 a.m. 📲 : You still up?

2:35 a.m. 📲 : Talked to Bishop. Found out what the shipment was

3:00 a.m. 📲 : Pretty sure I found something else

3:02 a.m. 📲 : Don’t know if this is the guy. If it is we might have a problem

3:03 a.m. 📲: Found this in the paper

3:04 a.m. 📲 : Check it out and call me back.

The last incoming message was a photo, the front page of the Daily Imperial Gazette. Angel scans the article as you climb back into bed. A few phrases stick as he reads, “Man charged in Santo Padre murder…” “Thomas Flores, 30, has been charged…” “...obtained representation from Lorente & Rothman…” “...Friday, Flores was denied bond…”

“I have to tell you something.”

Angel instinctively hits the power button on his phone. Glancing up, he realizes you haven’t even bothered to look up at him. Your focus is on the half-eaten croissant in your hand.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you explain as you take another bite of your croissant. “The case Samuel gave me—the one Aiden is helping me with—it’s for this guy. His name’s Tommy Flores. He has some pretty...intense charges, so you’re probably going to hear people talking about it soon. We had court Friday, and the judge...he’s pretty tough. He denied any form of a bond, he didn’t even bother trying to set a ridiculously high one.”

You glance up to find Angel’s eyes on you. His unreadable expression causes your brow to furrow. You mistake the look in his eyes as uncertainty.

“I honestly don’t think it’s anything you have to worry about.” Offering him a smile, you lightly roll your eyes. “But I’m going to have to start working late when we get back, so I need to know that what happened Friday won’t happen again.”

You wait for Angel’s response, but it doesn’t come.

“If I take over morning drop-offs, can I count on you to pick Jeyson up after school?” You continue. “Or, do I have to ask Isabela to do it...Angel?”

Angel blinks as your fingers snap.

“Are you listening to me?” The irritation he finds as his focus shifts to you causes him to nod.

Angel nods a second time as he takes in the look of skepticism on your face.

“Yeah, I’m listening.”

“So, you’re good with picking Jeyson up from school?” You clarify. “Every day of the week?”

Angel unlocks his phone, nodding for the third time. “Yeah. I’ll pick him up.”

“And if you can’t,” you reach forward. You catch Angel's chin forcing him to look at you. “You call and let me know the moment you find out?”

Nodding, Angel drops his eyes the second your gaze meets his. “I gotta call Ez.”

Despite his admission, your hand doesn’t drop preventing him from getting up. For a moment, Angel thinks you’ll let it go. For once, you will ignore the feeling you get each time you notice a change in him. It is something no one else in his life can seem to do. It is something you’ve been able to do your entire life. It is something Angel wishes you couldn’t do.

“What’s wrong?”

Angel shakes his head as you release him. He keeps his eyes trained on the plate in your lap avoiding your gaze as your touch brushes through his hair. It's a habit. Angel knows the moment he meets your gaze he’ll tell you whatever is on his mind. It’s impossible not to do when he knows you can read him best that way. He picks up what’s left of your croissant and takes a bite.

You sit your plate aside before closing the distance between the two of you. Angel’s eyes lift to meet yours as you settle on his lap. The warmth of your palms finds his cheeks as you take his face in your hands.

“I’ve known you nearly my entire life, Angel. I know you don’t believe it, but I can tell when you’re lying to me. Just like I can tell when you’re upset and anxious. And when you’re going to annoy me.” The soft smile on your lips brings a weak one to his. “There’s no point in trying to act like I don’t. What’s wrong?”

“You were right about Friday night. I wasn’t with Samuel. I wasn’t even in Santo Padre.” Angel lets out a deep breath. His voice low as your fingers toys with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Ez and I were in Mexico. I left when you were in court. I knew we weren’t going to make it back in time, but I didn’t want to have to tell you because I knew you’d be pissed.”

“What happened to your hand?”

He watches you lift it. Your finger traces the bandage.

“Cut it on a shovel.”

Your gaze lifts to find his focus on the path your finger traces.

“...okay.”

Angel shook his head. “It’s not okay—I fucked up. Forreal this time—“

"What? On Friday?” You let out a deep breath. “Angel, I know I freaked out. Missing the recital—yeah, it was fucked up—but it is not the worse thing you’ve done.”

“I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve that.” Your eyes watch him release a tired laugh, his gaze down. "You defend me, even when you shouldn’t.”

It is true. Defending Angel has been second nature your entire life. Often you do it in response to others. But also in response to him. When you were teenagers, you learned a valuable lesson about him. Angel is his worst critic. He’ll talk himself down harsher than anyone, even those who hate him.

“It’s because I love you.” Your arms wrap around his neck pulling him into a hug. “Just because we fight and say stupid things to each other doesn’t mean that I don’t love you, Angel. If I haven’t been able to stop doing that our entire time together, I don’t know why you think a fight in a therapy session is going to be the final straw. Me not talking to you is just the easiest way for me not to say something I’ll regret later.”

Angel’s grip tightens around you as your lips press against his skin.

“At this point, there isn’t anything you can do or say that’s going to make me stop loving you.” The reassurance in your voice lifts his gaze to yours. “Okay?”

Your lips press against his in a soft kiss. You leave a second against his forehead before getting up.

“I have to take a shower,” you announce as Angel’s arm wraps around your waist guiding your body back towards his. Your fingers drift into his hair as his head rests against you. “There’s more food you should eat before we go out.”

The two of you stay that way for nearly a minute. Angel releases you as the sound of your ringing phone fills the air.

Silence from Angel Reyes is a bad sign. Such a rarity, it wrings your stomach into knots. It has been hours since you woke to find him sleeping against you. Angel has said just as little as he did in the morning. When you stepped out of the shower, you found him fully dressed and brushing his teeth.

You glance over your shoulder to find he’s standing where you last left him. Arms crossed over his chest Angel rests against the wall as far from the line as possible. With his sunglasses on, you can’t tell where he’s looking. The corner of his lips turns up into a small smile as you come to a stop before him.

“Who knew smoothies took forever to make,” he sighs as your arms wrap around his waist.

Resting your cheek against Angel's chest, you tighten your grip. You listen to the steady rhythm of his heart as his lips press against your hair.

“I want you to come somewhere with me tonight.”

“No,” Angel chuckles. You tip your head back, pouting as his gaze drops to yours.

He shakes his head as your weight shifts to your toes.

“Please,” you ask, your lips pressing a kiss against his.

“Last time I did that, you ripped me to shreds,” he laughs. “I haven’t even had time to recover from that.”

“It’ll be fun,” you promise. The second kiss you leave morphs Angel's smile into a grin. You leave a third, this one against his cheek. “I promise.”

Angel releases a long breath as you take a step back, a grin on your face.

“It better be,” he shakes his head as you quickly press a final kiss against his lips before turning to retrieve your order.

As you reach the corner, your cell phone vibrates in your back pocket. You don’t bother checking who it is. Aiden has called you three times. You had sent him a text message in response to his first three calls. Telling him to ask Isabela for help on whatever he needed.

The moment the call goes to voicemail, the vibration picks back up.

You force yourself to take a breath as Angel leads you outside.

“Hi, Aiden--”

“I know this week is supposed to be for you and Angel,” Aiden's voice comes out in a rushed whisper. “But, I need your help.”

“Where are you?” You ask as you take a sip of your smoothie. “And, why are you whispering?”

“I’m at the courthouse,” Aiden sighs. “I’ve been here all morning, and they’re giving me the run-around.”

“About what?”

“The Warden called the office this morning. You weren’t there, so I answered your desk phone. He didn’t give me many details, just that Flores was detained last night. They couldn't get him to say anything—to no surprise—but one of the guards said he was involved in an altercation with another inmate. Apparently, Tommy messed him up pretty bad—like...transported to the local hospital bad.”

Angel glances over at you as you slip out of his grip. You take a seat at the table he stops alongside.

In the short time, you’ve worked with Aiden, you’ve learned one thing. The moment he thinks there is something to panic about, Aiden will panic. So, if you sound stressed it kicks off his panicking.

Resting your face in your hand, you speak quietly. “So, he wasn't transferred on Friday as I'd requested? If he was he couldn't have gotten in a fight.”

“I know. Apparently this isn't the first one he's been in. The Warden said he looks like he’s been roughed up in the past few days. I’ve been here since first thing this morning—”

“Let me guess.” You rest back against your seat. “They told you there’s nothing they can do, with the prison being at full capacity they don’t have a cell for him?”

A brief silence falls over the receiver. Aiden’s brow furrows.

“Yeah—how'd you know?”

“That’s because it’s bullshit,” you pinch the bridge of your nose. “Judge Miller was hoping you’d leave and not press the issue.”

“Shit,” Aiden mumbles. “Shit, should I call Samuel—”

“God no. Aiden, I’ll tell you what to do, and say, just relax.”

“I lied to you.”

Angel glances down at you as your lips press against his knuckles. “About what?”

“About wanting to wait to get married.”

Your admission leaves Angel quiet. He opens his mouth to speak, but it closes as you place a second kiss against his skin.

You tilt your head back to find his eyes focused on the water.

“I was talking to Izzy the other day—not about getting married—but about you and...I mean...we’re trying to have another kid.” You backtrack as his gaze drifts to you. “That’s not the only reason, but I don’t want to spend another seven years playing house with you, Angel. I have tried so hard to find reasons why we should just leave each other in the past, but it’s impossible. I can’t help thinking that we’ve wasted so much time trying to fight it we should just get married.”

If he is excited by your words, Angel doesn’t show it. If he’s anxious by your words Angel doesn’t show it. The only response he gives is the furrowing of his brow as his pace slows before coming to a complete stop.

“I thought you’d be...a little happier,” you admit. The butterflies in your stomach seem to double in size as Angel's gaze focuses on your interlaced fingers.

“Right now?” Angel gently squeezes your hand, the smile slowly spreading across his lips causing you to shake your head. “A fancy place like this I’m pretty sure we could find someone to do it tonight.”

“Preferably with your son there,” you giggle as his lips press against your forehead.

“Just so you know,” Angel mumbles as he leaves a kiss against your lips. “You can’t take it back.”

“It’d be pointless,” you admit, your eyes focused on the incoming tide. “Regardless of what I say, you’re impossible to escape.”

“Like you said, it must be fate,” he teases as you step back towards the security of the shore.

“I didn’t say fate. I said I was tired of trying to outrun you.”

Angel’s eyes roll. “Okay.”

Pushing against his chest, you cause him to stumble backward making it impossible for him to avoid the incoming tide.

“Fuck—”

Angel’s scream is drowned out by the sound of your laughter. He tries to escape the chilled water but realizes it’s pointless as a second wave rolls through.

“Is it cold?” You ask the grin on your face prompting him to take a step in your direction. “Because it looked like it was cold.” The look on his face causes your laughter to return.

“You’re about to find out how cold it is.” The promise in his voice causes you to take a step back.

You catch sight of Angel’s smile before you take off running.

Between the giggles that leave you breathless and the sand between your feet, you don’t get very far before Angel’s arms wrap around you.

“I’m sorry, okay. Let me go, please?” Angel’s grip loosens as you turn to face him. “I really am sorry.”

A gasp escapes your lips as your feet leave the ground. Blood rushes to your head as Angel tosses you over your shoulder. It only takes a second for you to realize he’s turned and is carrying you back towards the water.

“Angel Ignacio Reyes put me down now!”

“Be careful what you wish for, baby girl,” Angel chuckles as he carries you into the water.

It doesn’t matter that you’re both fully clothed Angel carries you out until the water is waist-deep. He comes to a stop. Shifting you in his arms, he grins as your arms instantly wrap around his neck.

“You think this is far enough?” He asks as you take in your surroundings.

“I hate you,” you giggle as you meet his playful gaze.

“I could go further out,” he takes a step forward.

“Just do it.”

Judging by the mischievous grin on his lips, you expect him to drop you in. For whatever reason, Angel spares you a dunking. Instead, he carefully lowers you to your feet.

The chill of the water causes your grip to tighten around him. He waits until you’re standing to let go of you.

You can’t suppress the smile that finds your lips as he kisses you.

“You’re lucky you buttered me up beforehand,” he chuckles as you step around him.

He follows you back to shore watching as you glance down the beach, back towards the lights of the hotel. Your pace slows as you start in the direction of the hotel.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Despite the nod of reassurance, you force yourself to take another breath. You shake your head slightly, a tiny smile finding your lips. It takes a third breath for the feeling to pass. “I just—got lightheaded for a second.”

“Uh-huh. Funny how you get ‘lightheaded’ the second I take my shirt off. I don’t know why you still try and play this game at this point.”

Your eyes open in time to allow you the moment you need to react. Catching the shirt tossed your way, you watch Angel unzip his jeans.

"Angel put your shirt back on–I’m serious.” The warning in your voice stretches the smile on Angel’s lips. Your eyes leave him, long enough to drift back to the glow of the hotel’s lanterns still visible. The laughter and music cause you to step in his direction. “You are not getting naked on the beach! Are you trying to get us kicked out of here—”

“I wasn’t planning on going in naked,” Angel laughs. It is an admission of truth, but the sight of your panicked gaze causes a mischievous grin to take over his features. “But, I’m down to if you are—“

“No—"

“You know what?” Angel nods as he tugs his foot out of his jeans. “Your plan is better.”

“Angel—“

There’s no point throwing in a protest. Angel has fully stripped down to his briefs.

You step forward as he moves to push them down.

“I am serious, Angel. Do not do it.”

He rolls his neck before letting out a loud, and exaggerated, “fine.”

“But the only way that’s coming back on,” he nods towards the shirt in your hands before taking a step back. “You gotta join me.”

“I’m not doing this.”

Angel shoots you a look of skepticism as he takes another step towards the water.

“You’re already wet,” he chuckles. “Might as well get in.”

You remain where you are as Angel turns and makes his way into the water.

He waits until he’s waist-deep to start swimming out. He disappears out of sight as you drop his shirt to the ground. Stepping out of your flip-flops, you roll your eyes as you watch him resurface under the moonlight.

“Hurry up!” Even with the distance between the two of you, you can see Angel’s grin in your mind perfectly.

Despite your initial protest, you stay in the water for nearly an hour. Angel stands alongside you. His right-hand rests against your spine, his left interlaced with yours as your float. He watches you, his eyes admiring the moonlight against your skin as you focus on the stars above.

“I can’t remember the last time I looked at these,” you admit.

He smiles as your eyes drift shut. “Mom used to freak every time she caught us sneaking onto the roof to look at them.”

“That’s because you fell off one time. Nearly gave her a heart attack.”

“Wouldn’t have been the first time.”

You bite back a smile as Angel’s lips lightly brush against yours. They drift to the bridge of your nose as you release a soft giggle.

“Speaking of mom’s, yours came by last week.” Angel watches as the smile on your face slowly fades. “You were at work. I was taking Jeyson to school. She said she’s been calling you.”

“I wouldn’t know,” you admit. “She’s blocked.”

“I was thinking...since we’re heading back a day early, we should stop by your mom’s on the way back–”

“No.”

Angel releases a deep breath. He wasn’t naive to think you would jump at the idea. But, since seeing her, Angel couldn’t get the thought out of his mind.

“I know ya’ll don’t get along, but my mom’s not here to see Jeyson grow up. I think he should be able to know the grandparents he has left.”

“I get that, but I’m not doing it.”

Your eyes remain closed as you concentrate on the waves gently pushing against your skin.

Angel doesn’t say anything else on the subject. He knows your response will stay the same. It has for the past nine years. He also doesn’t say anything else because he knows he’s the reason you won’t budge.

The hatred your mother has for Angel may be misplaced, but she is too stubborn to admit it. She has always blamed Angel for many of your actions, starting when you were kids. Anytime you didn’t go through with what she had planned for you, Angel was to blame. You missed curfew in high school Angel was to blame. You skipped school on your birthday Angel was to blame. You didn’t attend the college she spent her entire life preparing you for Angel was to blame. You got pregnant out of wedlock Angel was to blame.

It had all came to a head at your baby shower. Angel wasn’t there, but it was the first time he’d ever seen his mother truly angry. Sure, Marisol had gotten mad at Angel countless times. But seeing how mad Marisol was as she recounted the fight she had witnessed between you and your mother, Angel was shocked.

He never asked what words were exchanged, and he didn’t have to. All he knew was that from that moment forward, everyone avoided the subject of your mother.

“I get what you’re saying, Angel,” you sigh. “But, if my mom truly wanted to get to know Jeyson she would apologize. I can’t bring our son around someone that has said the things she’s said about you. If she can say them about you, she can say them about him because Jeyson is your son.”

“Shit, I really look as bad as I feel?”

The smile on Tommy’s face grows as you look up. The heat covering your skin seems to rise as you start to speak.

“No—” You wince. “I’m sorry for staring—it’s rude.”

“It’s all good,” Tommy chuckles as he watches your eyes leave his.

He watches as you bite your lip. Whatever is on your mind, you don’t share it. Instead, your eyes linger on the bruise beneath his right eye. You’ve seen enough damage on Angel to know how bad it must have looked a few days prior.

“Hey, relax.” Tommy shifts forward in his seat, the sound of his shackles dragging across the table causing your attention to refocus. He meets your gaze. “The Doc cleared me—gave me my two Advil and sent me back to my cell. I think it’s safe to say I’m not gonna die.”

Despite the smile on his face, your head still shakes.

“Yeah, but I still feel bad that it happened. I was supposed to double-check the clearance of your paperwork.”

“Trust me, it’s not your fault,” Tommy chuckles. He watches your eyes drop to his freshly bruised knuckles. “It’s mine. The funny thing about this place is, you always run into people from your past. My mom used to said I never knew when to stop talking. I might have said the wrong thing at the wrong time.”

You watch as Tommy’s eyes briefly drift over your shoulder to where Rogers sits in the corner. His smile returns as his gaze drifts back to you.

“So, I take it you had fun.” He notes your raised brow before backtracking. “The Warden said he called your office and your boyfriend answered, said you were out of town.”

Your eyes roll. “Hey, go easy on my boyfriend. He’s the one who went to the courthouse. From what I hear, he slammed Judge Miller hard because your paperwork has been approved.”

You take in Tommy’s skepticism. You slide the signed form across the table, allowing him a better view.

“Signed by the Warden as well,” you point out. “Thanks to Aiden as soon as we’re done here, you’re being moved out of the unit.”

“No shit?” Tommy chuckles. He nods in approval as he scans the form. “I’ll be sure to thank Aiden when I see him. Guess you were right. He’s got some balls after all...Look, I know I’m not the easiest client….so um….Thanks for pushing for this. Making sure everything was straight. Most people would’ve just left me where I was.”

“Yeah, well I can’t have you die before I get fully paid.”

The laugh Tommy releases brings a smile to your lips. He settles back against his chair as you pick up your pen.

"I need you to understand that this new assignment may not be your favorite," you explain. "You're being moved to a new unit, but I can't get you moved again. That means, you can't do anything else, Tommy. Do you understand me?"

Tommy nods. He looks up as your hand finds his.

"This," your lift his hand forcing him to take in his swollen knuckles. "The shit you pulled. You're lucky they didn't throw you in AdSeg. That's 23 hours in your cell. No phone calls, no visits. Nothing. The only reason they didn't throw you in there is because they messed up, and didn't want Aiden to draw a motion against the judge. I don't care what you have to do, but you better learn to walk away from a fight. Now."

"I know." Tommy sighs as you let him go.

“Then do it. My job is already hard enough as it is. I can't have you trying to kill someone while you're already here for murder. Plus, the judge is pissed because of the paperwork Aiden had to file. That's not good for either of us. So, that means I need your help.”

His brow raises, the corners of his lips turning up into a smirk. “I thought I was supposed to be the one asking for help.”

“True, but help is a two-way street.”

Tommy hesitates for a moment. His eyes drop to his knuckles as he lets off a light shrug.

“What do you need?”

“For you to tell me why you were meeting with Alexander Maddox the night you were arrested.”

Tommy’s smile fades quicker than it came. His jaw tightens as he shakes his head.

You sit forward resting your elbows on the table.

“Tommy, if it’s about the MC.” Tommy’s eyes lift for a brief second. Long enough for you to catch a glimpse of the shock in his eyes. You lower your voice. “I know you’re with the Horsemen—”

Tommy shakes his head. “Look—I get you got a job to do, but—there’s just shit with the MC I can’t talk about—”

“I know how this stuff works—”

“Got a lot of personal experience with an MC?” Tommy asks.

His question causes you to release a deep breath.

“If you don’t want to tell me anything, fine. But when it comes down to it, Tommy. People will cut you off to save themselves.” The irritation in your voice lifts his gaze. “That shipment you were carrying, was not a dime bag. Your brothers will let you go down for this. Hard. They will let you rot in here for the rest of your fucking life if it means avoiding a R.I.C.O. case.”

Tommy’s brow furrows. “What’s a R.I.C.O.?”

His question throws you off. The pure confusion on his face causes you to backtrack.

“You seriously don’t know what that is?”

“I mean—I’ve heard of it...how do you know what it is?”

“It’s what you pay me for,” you remind him.

“Then I guess I’m paying you to explain it to me.”

The moment you step outside of the elevator, you come face to face with a wide-eyed Isabela.

“Is your phone dead?” She asks the irritation in her voice causing your brow to arch.

“Off—I had a client meeting with Tommy. I thought I told you—”

Isabela ignores your response, her eyes focused in the direction of your office. “Yeah, whatever. I’ve been calling you for the last freaking hour—”

“Sorry—ow.” You wince as Isabela catches your arm. She pulls you to a stop. “What?”

She releases her grip, but she sidesteps. Blocking your path, Isabela places both hands on your shoulders. She ignores the look of confusion on your face, her gaze studying yours.

“How are you?”

Her question causes you to hesitate. “...Fine...why?”

Isabela takes another moment to study your eyes as if she doesn’t fully believe you before nodding.

“Just so you know,” she sighs as she takes a step back. “I did not let her in. Aiden did. He didn’t know any better—bless his heart—”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your mother.” Isabela winces at the look on your face. “She’s in your office. Promise me you won’t make a scene.”

“It’s never me you have to worry about,” you mumble.

When you enter your office, you find your mother is not where Aiden asked her to sit and wait for you.

She is standing behind your desk studying a photo that she holds in her hands.

“Put it back.”

She jumps at the sound of your voice, her body turning so that she faces you.

“Put it back, please.”

Her eyes return to the photo of Angel seated on his bike. A grinning Jeyson is seated in front of him, clinging to the handlebars.

“He looks so much like his father.”

You cross the room. Taking the photo, you place it back in its original resting place before dropping your purse onto your desk.

“What do you want?” You ask as you watch step around your desk.

“Is that a way to greet your mother?”

“According to the last time we spoke, I don’t have one.” You recollect as you take a seat. “It’s been...nearly nine years, so my memory might be a little hazy, but I’m pretty sure that’s what you told me.” Your brow furrows as she moves to take the seat across from you. “There’s no need for you to sit. This conversation won’t last long. I have a meeting in a few minutes. What do you want?”

Your mother’s jaw tightens as she remains standing. Her eyes roll as she speaks. “I take it he didn’t pass along my message.”

“He did pass along your message, actually,” you admit. “Believe it or not, Angel said I should call you and listen to what you had to say. I just chose to do what I’ve done for the past nine years—ignore it. If you’re not going to answer my question, mom, then you can leave.”

“Your father and I want to see our grandson—”

“No.”

She expects more, but your attention has already moved on to the papers you’ve dropped onto your desk.

“See, I told you the conversation wouldn’t last long.”

“Y/N,” your mother objects. “It’s been nearly nine years.”

Your fingers interlaced as you force yourself to take a deep breath. You surprise even yourself as your voice comes out quiet and calm.

“I told you before. I do not want you near my son, and I meant it. I don’t care what excuse you’ve come here to give today. I’m not changing my mind. Your only hope is to speak with his father, and hope he’s more forgiving than I am.”

Aiden stops in the doorway, his eyes widening as he reads the room. He takes a step back but pauses as you give him a warm smile.

“Hi, Aiden! Please tell me you haven’t eaten lunch yet.”

“No,” Aiden clears his throat. His eyes briefly pass to your mother whose gaze remains on you. “I haven’t.”

“Good. Can you order two of whatever you’re having? I’ll pay. We have to go ahead and look over this case.”

Aiden nods as you add, “great. Can you also escort my mother downstairs? She’s ready to leave.”

“I’m sorry for ruining your retreat.”

Aiden’s apology breaks your concentration.

Seated on the floor of your office, Aiden has his back pressed against your desk. His usually polished appearance is disheveled. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, the top buttons of his shirt undone. His tie and jacket are discarded on the back of your chair.

His apology is one he has been working himself up to share for the last three hours. Each time he thought of sharing it, he’s backed out. At this point, he’s run out of pointless conversation and has reached the bottom of your takeout container that he took over.

“What are you talking about?”

Aiden’s eyes remain on the chopsticks in his hand.

“Isabela told me not to call you about Tommy,” he clears his throat. He steals a glance in your direction. “She said it should wait until you got back—but as usual—I panicked and called you. Now you’re back early--”

“Aiden, you didn’t ruin my retreat,” you sigh. Your palms rub against your tired eyes. “It was rocky was to begin with.”

The admission silences the office. Aiden nods before opening his mouth.

“So,” you smile as you lightly bump his shoulder with yours. “Please, don’t worry about it. Angel was probably happy you called so he could leave.”

Your gaze returns to the slow-paced printer. Upon learning you were coming home early, Aiden had sent you a text message.

📲: I have some stuff to show you about Tommy.

And by “some stuff” Aiden meant a board. He had stolen one of Samuel’s whiteboards from the conference room. The entire surface is covered in your notes and information from Tommy’s files.

“I can’t believe you did all this while I was gone,” you stare at the board. “Your girlfriend might think you’re spending too much time on me.”

Aiden’s smile is sheepish. “If I had one, I wouldn’t have had time to do this.”

“Well, remind me to find you one because this is amazing.” The tease causes Aiden’s smile to grow. “I’m serious, Aiden. I can’t believe you thought you couldn’t be any help.”

“I didn’t really do anything,” he shrugs, his gaze focused on the paper in his hand. “They’re all your notes, I just organized them.”

His eyes widen, a grin finding his lips as your arms wrap around his neck.

“Call it whatever you want,” you smile. “But I still get to say thank you.”

“It’s not a big deal,” he rubs the back of his neck before glancing over at you. “We’re a team….speaking of...I found this.”

The picture he lifts is not new. It is one you’ve seen before. Your brow furrows as you take in the pregnant woman on display.

“I already know who that is,” you admit. “It’s the girlfriend of—”

“Alexander Maddox.” Aiden nods. “Right. I kept going back to your notes. You had one question. Why was Tommy meeting with Maddox in the first place?”

Your head shakes the confusion on your face prompting the rolling of Aiden’s eyes.

“How is this the answer?”

“You were asking the wrong question.” A mischievous grin slides onto his face as Aiden realizes you’re still not following his train of thought. “I can’t believe I figured something out before you—”

“Oh my goodness, Aiden—”

“When he was arrested, Tommy was carrying a shipment--”

“Yeah, something he shouldn’t have been doing by himself.”

Aiden’s brow arches. “You got a history of drug trafficking I don’t know about?”

“You’d be surprised what you pick up on this job.”

Aiden shakes his head as you motion for him to continue.

“While I was working, I kept thinking back to our conversation at the courthouse,” Aiden continues. “You said Tommy’s smart—"

“He uses people to get what he wants.”

“Exactly,” Aiden grins. He lifts the picture in his hand. “Why would Maddox meet up with someone from a rival club, in the middle of the night, with his pregnant girlfriend in tow if he was threatened by them?”

Aiden doesn’t bother answering the question. Instead, he waits for you to make the connection. The smile on his face remains as your eyes widen.

“Because he was there to make a deal.”

“Exactly!” Despite the smile on your face, Aiden’s face dampens. “...but that’s as far as I got. I don’t really know what made Tommy kill him—”

“Of course you do, Aiden.” Despite your reassurance and the confidence in your voice, Aiden’s expression hasn’t changed. “Your brain just needs a second to catch up. Maddox didn’t keep up his end of the deal. He probably tried to screw Tommy over. Not realizing that Tommy would kill him, girlfriend in tow.”

"Well, now we know why Tommy's been tight-lipped about that night. Probably doesn't want it to get out that he was skimming from the club's business."

The hug you give him brings the same response as before.

“I should help you out more often.” Aiden chuckles as you give him a squeeze.

“Careful,” you tease. “Angel’s not too fond of sharing.”

“Speaking of Angel…” Aiden’s gaze meets yours. “I know you asked me not to say anything to him about Samuel—”

“It’s okay.”

Aiden nods, but he continues. His rambling brings a soft smile to your lips.

“Yeah, but I just...I didn’t want you to think I was okay with what Samuel did.” His words come out quietly as he shakes his head. “The way he talked to you...it wasn’t right. You work harder than anyone here—including him—and for Samuel to do that was fucked up. I didn’t say anything in the meeting, and I should have. So, I just...I told Angel when he asked about it.”

“He would have found out eventually,” you laugh softly. “Besides, now Angel likes you.”

“For real?” The smile on Aiden’s face stretches into a grin as you nod.

A silence falls over the office as Aiden’s head rests against the desk. His brow furrows as your eyes fall to your hands. There is a final question on his mind. One he’s tried to find a way to raise since he started flipping through your notes on Saturday morning.

“Are you pregnant?”

The question lifts your gaze.

Aiden reaches into the pocket of his shirt. Your eyes widen as you take in the white card he produces. It is a card you spent the entire morning trying to find. The scheduled appointment one you have yet to share with Angel.

“It was in the notebook you turned over for me and Samuel to review,” Aiden explains as he passes the card over. “Don’t worry. I saw it before he did...I figured he was the last person you wanted to know.”

Your eyes focus on the date. A week and a half away. The initial scheduling may have been premature, but you couldn’t shake the feeling Angel was right.

“Uh...no—I mean, it’s too early to tell.” You turn the card over before looking up. “I should know by this date, so can you not tell anyone about this? I haven’t even told Izzy...or Angel for that matter. I don’t want to say anything until I’m a hundred percent sure.”

Aiden nods, a soft smile on his lips. “Of course.”

“Thanks.” You allow your head to rest back against the desk. “I don’t want to get Angel’s hopes up too early.”

It was the only thought you’ve had from the moment you woke up alongside Angel that moment. But as you glance back at the card in your hand, you know the truth has nothing to do with Angel. It’s not his hopes that you’re afraid of letting down.

You place the card aside, pulling your knees to your chest. Your gaze drifts to the board before you. The two of you sit in silence, eyes focused on your work. Silently willing your brains to come up with one more revelation before packing it up for the night.

"Alright," Aiden huffs. "I think we've gotten as far as we can get tonight."

HIs brow furrows, a chuckle filling the air as he fingers brush against your arm.

"Didn't take you for a tattoo person."

You glance over at him, following his gaze to the ink on your arm.

"Yeah, well, you've never been dragged to a tattoo parlor with Angel," you laugh. "Now, I try to avoid them at all cost."

"It's pretty cool," he grins, his eyes lingering on the design. "He has one too? Matching?"

"Yep," your eyes roll lightly. "Please don't tease me about teenage decisions."

"I won't," he chuckles. Aiden sits forward, lightly patting your leg before moving to collect the trash.

“Aiden?”

“Huh?” He glances up from the takeout containers in his hands.

“How long was he in Chino?”

“Tommy...uh, hold on.” Balancing the containers in his left, Aiden quickly rifles through the stacks of papers spread across the floor before him. “Says here...he was in Chino for....30 months.”

“Any way we can figure out where he was housed?”

“I don’t know,” Aiden admits as his eyes scan the wrap sheet. “His charges were nothing compared to now. Petty crime, so he wasn’t housed at maximum. Why?”

Once his question is met with silence, Aiden glances over his shoulder at you.

“What’s wrong?” The concern in his eyes slowly morphs to fear as he takes in your expression. “Did I miss something?”

“No, I did.”

“What do you mean?”

Before he can pose the question, you’re already pushing yourself to your feet.

“Go home, okay? It’s getting late—don’t worry about the mess. I’ll clean it up in the morning.”

Although you’ve managed to mask your expression, the trembling of your hands causes Aiden’s brow to furrow.

“You sure?” He objects. He quickly stands, stopping you from grabbing your keys from your desk. “I can send an email about his placement in Chino—”

“No.” Your response comes out more panicked than you want. You quickly backtrack. The reassuring smile you give Aiden not holding the weight it’s meant to. “I’ll do it in the morning. I have to go see Angel.”

“Okay.” Aiden nods. He passes over the sheet watching as you excuse yourself.

Jeyson Reyes sits at the table in the center of the clubhouse, his math homework abandoned. His attention is devoted to the bowl of skittles in front of him. He has spent that past minute carefully picking out his least favorite skittles—the yellow.

“Word on the street is you got a birthday coming up,” Angel accepts another yellow skittle before popping it in his mouth. Jeyson’s eyes widen as he briefly pauses the task at hand. Angel’s brow furrows as his eyes study his son’s face. “How old are you turning again? Five—”

“Nine!”

“Nine? Nah--that can’t be right.” Angel shakes his head as he takes in Jeyson’s broad grin. “I don’t believe you—”

“Uh-huh,” Jeyson nods, dropping another skittle into his father’s palm. “I turn nine in seventeen days.”

“Shit—”

“That’s another dollar in the swear jar,” Jeyson reminds him as he passes Angel another skittle.

“I know,” Angel chuckles. He rests back against his seat, his eyes lingering on your son as he quietly admits. “I can’t believe you’re that old.”

Jeyson’s nose scrunches. “I’m not old.”

“Yeah, you are,” Angel laughs, his hand brushing against Jeyson’s hair. “You’re almost an adult.”

“I’m still a kid,” Jeyson giggles as his eyes lift to meet his father’s. “You’re old—”

“Hey—I am not old,” Angel retorts, the feigned look of offense causing your son’s giggles to increase.

Jeyson reaches over pointing towards the beard Angel’s hand passes over. “You have gray hair—lots of it.”

His father’s gaze narrows as Jeyson’s grin stretches as far as his cheeks will allow. As if to soften the blow, Jeyson drops two more skittles into Angel’s palm before eating one of his own.

Angel’s smile remains as he watches Jeyson redirect his attention back to the bowl of skittles on the table.

“Have you thought about what you want for your birthday?"

Jeyson shrugs. “Not really.”

“Not really?” Angel’s brow raises. “You’re counting down to your birthday, but you don’t know what you want?”

Jeyson lets off a second shrug, his concentration on the skittles causing Angel’s brow to furrow.

“You know we’re gonna end up getting whatever it is you want,” Angel smiles as he ruffles Jeyson’s hair. “You’ve been doing everything you’re supposed to in school.”

Despite Angel’s words, Jeyson’s gaze remains down. He chews on the inside of his cheek. The action causes his father to slide the bowl of skittles aside.

“What’s up? You don't think you can get what you want?”

Nearly a minute passes before Jeyson answers Angel’s question. His voice comes out quietly.

“I want you to stay at home.”

Angel’s brow furrows. The response is not what he’s anticipating. “I am staying at home.”

“My home, not yours.” Jeyson clarifies. “Where mom and I live.”

“That is where I’m staying.”

“You didn’t Friday. Is it because you don’t like living with us?” He asks quietly

Angel’s eyes drift shut, the tightening of his throat causing him to shake his head.

“Your mom and I—” Angel’s voice trails off as Jeyson looks up from the table to meet his gaze.

It is a conversation neither of them has breached before. One Jeyson has found himself thinking about more and more. One Angel knew he would eventually have with his son, but he hadn’t anticipated it to be now. He had also hoped you would be around to help him.

“You having two homes has nothing to do with me not wanting to live with you—or your mom. You don’t remember it, you were too little, but your mom and I...we used to fight a lot.” Angel continues. “I wasn’t nice to her, and I made her cry a lot. So I had to leave. I didn’t want to leave you or her, but I also didn’t want to hurt you or your mom. It took me a while to learn how not to do that. Friday...I couldn’t come home because I didn’t want to fight with your mom.”

“You still made her cry.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.” Leaning over, Angel brushes his hand against Jeyson’s hair. His touch forces Jeyson’s eyes to meet his. “You know how you and your friends get mad at each other? Sometimes we get mad at the people we love because we don’t see things the same way. But your mom being mad at me has nothing to do with you. Okay? Just because your mom and I might fight, it doesn’t mean I’m leaving.”

The soft smile Angel offers him prompts Jeyson to give him one in return.

“It doesn’t matter if I’m staying with you and your mom or at my house. I love you. That’s not ever gonna change. Never has, never will. Got it?”

Jeyson nods, his smile growing as Angel places a kiss against his skin.

As Jeyson's attention returns to the bowl of skittles, Angel reaches into his kutte. He pulls out the white envelope that he found in the mailbox upon your return home.

He studies the unfamiliar handwriting. Printed in block letters are his name and your address. His gaze passes over the generic American Flag stamp and date pressed into the right corner. The lack of a return address causes him to flip the envelope over.

Angel waits until he comes to a stop outside of the clubhouse to give the envelope a second glance. Tearing the side, he reaches inside pulling out a single index card. The handwriting matches that printed on the envelope.

An anniversary gift for the Old Lady.

Angel tips the envelope. His stomach tightens as the chill of a silver chain hits his palm. The buzzing of his phone in his kutte pocket goes ignored. He doesn’t need to unravel the chain to know who the necklace belongs to. He has looked at the necklace nearly every day since he was eighteen.

The continued vibration of his phone forces an irritated “fuck” from Angel’s lip before he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

“What?”

“This is a prepaid call from Thomas Flores, an inmate at the state correctional facility. All phone calls are subject to recording and monitoring. To decline the call, please press nine. To accept the call and all charges that will be incurred, please press one.”

Angel doesn’t remember committing the act of acceptance. A moment later, Tommy’s voice echoes through his receiver. For a man locked inside the walls of Stockton, his voice is calm and lighthearted.

“Damn, it’s been a minute since I’ve heard your voice, Reyes. Can you believe I missed it?”

“The feeling isn’t mutual,” Angel growls, his grip tightening around his phone. “How’d you get this number?”

“Come on, Reyes--give me some credit. I got it the same way I got your address,” Tommy chuckles. “I had to make sure to wish you a happy anniversary. It just passed, right? What is it six—no—seven years? Hopefully, the two of you are doing better these days—”

“Why are you calling?”

“That’s the funny thing,” Tommy sighs, the smile on his face stretches into a grin. “See, I was in my cell a few weeks back, thinking to myself—got a lot of time for that nowadays—and naturally, that led to me thinking of you. And how I missed my old cellmate. Then I remembered...you owe me a favor.”

“A favor? I don’t owe you shit--”

“That’s not how this shit works. I think the person who’s owed a debt gets to decide when it’s paid in full.” Tommy pauses, the silence from Angel’s end allowing him to continue. “Funny thing, I wouldn’t have even thought to call on you for this, but you made a simple mistake all those years ago, Angel. You talked too much...If you don’t want someone to use your Achilles, you don’t share it.” Angel’s brow furrows as Tommy’s words slowly begin to sink in. “Now, you know I’m not a religious man, but I bet you can imagine how good I felt when I realized that God, himself, dropped Y/N into my lap. What are the odds that she and I got brought together? Huh? It’d be a shame to let this God-given opportunity go to waste, don’t you think?”

“What the fuck do you want, Tommy?”

“A lot of things,” Tommy admits. “A turn with your pretty wife for starters. The way you put it, she’d do just about anything for you--”

“She’s not doing anything for you--”

“That’s okay,” Tommy chuckles. “You’ve always had my back when it came down to the wire.”

Angel’s head shakes. “No—Fuck this—I’m hanging up. I told you that night. One and done—”

“I take it you got my gift,” Tommy ignores Angel’s declaration. “And...judging by the unnecessary hostility I’m sensing in your voice, you took a trip down South recently.”

“I want what you took—”

“And you can get it back—scout’s honor.” The sincerity in Tommy’s voice would fool a stranger, but not Angel. “After you help me out one last time. For old times sake.”

“I’m not helping you do shit.”

“Damn,” Tommy sighs. “I was really hoping you wouldn’t say that.”

“And you’re gonna leave her alone. Come up with an excuse, I don’t care. You’re finding a new attorney—”

“No can do, Reyes. See, I don’t benefit by losing her.” Tommy explains. “Unless you wanna consider my proposal. Last time I’m offering. I think you’ll find my way is the easiest—for everybody involved.”

A silence falls over the line. The trembling of his hands tightening Angel’s grip on his cellphone.

“Alright, well, my time is almost up,” Tommy yawns. His eyes pass to the clock overhead. “Plus, I know it was a lot to dump on you, so I'll give you the night to mull it over. Tell your lady I said thanks for visiting me today.”

Angel’s continued silence brings a grin to Tommy’s face. His chuckle fills this receiver.

“You haven’t told her yet….Tell me, what do you think she’s gonna say when your secret gets out? Do you think she’s gonna stick around this time? If that shit gets out, you’ll be facing more than some 18-month stint in Chino, Reyes. You’ll be facing some real-time. Ask your baby brother how that shit sits with you. All it’ll take is some rumors about the location of a missing state’s witness to start swirling...evidence anonymously getting dropped into the hands of the right people...then you and I just might be sharing a cell again.”

“Trust me, you don’t want that shit to happen.”

“Maybe...maybe not...only time will tell.” Tommy sighs. The calmness of his voice is the opposite of the feeling causing Angel to force out an unsteady breath. “Do me a favor, check with your old lady on how to get on my visitation list. I think you owe me a visit, make the shit quick, Reyes. Maybe she can get them to expedite the paperwork. You got a job to do, and your clock is ticking, homie.”

There is no need for additional words to be exchanged. Tommy hangs up, leaving Angel standing at the end of the driveway. No matter how hard Angel tried to resist—or tried to appear that he was—Tommy knew the hook was set the moment the call began.

When you pull into the clubhouse lot, you find Angel standing at the base of the clubhouse steps.

His eyes meet yours as you park, but he makes no move to meet you. The question is out before you can step around the front of your car.

“Do you know Tommy Flores?”

Angel’s eyes may be on you, but his mind is somewhere else.

“What?”

“Thomas Flores. He was serving time in Chino. Longer than you—thirty months—but you were there the exact same time. Did you hear about him while you were there?” Your question is met with silence. Angel blinks. His brow furrows as he watches you cross the lot. “I know it’s a random question, but Angel it’s really important. Okay?”

It’s common for people to cross paths. Chino is not a prison. It’s smaller than Stockton. Inmates flood in and out like clockwork. That's what your mind can produce in the time it takes you to come to a stop before him.

But it’s the look in Angel’s eyes that tightens your stomach.

It’s a look you’ve only seen once in your life.

Nearly two years ago. A night you hadn't revisited in quite some time.

When Angel had shown up unannounced at your house. This was nothing new.

Only this time, the pounding on your front door had woken you, Jeyson, and nearly half the neighborhood.

Your initial assumption was that he was drunk—it wouldn’t have been the first time Angel had shown up after a few beers and a shitty hookup only to find his way back to you. Begging you to let him stay the night, swearing to plead his drunken case, only to pass out against you the moment you were seated on the sofa.

Only this time—the moment you’d gotten the door open you were crushed by his weight. Angel's grip had been tight. The pressure caused you to wince as his face burrowed against your skin.

For once, you couldn't detect alcohol--just sweat and dirt. His grip had tightened as you tried to move back and take a better look at him.

You didn't get much out of him that night. The most you could get him to do was shower. Which was for the best because, by the time you'd helped him dry off, Angel's adrenaline crashed. He’d passed out in your bed a minute later.

In the morning, he didn’t produce much of an explanation.

"Sorry if I scared you last night," he'd mumbled as he headed to the door. "I know you asked me not to show up—unannounced like that but—I just wanted to see you."

“Yeah,” Angel nods. “I knew him.”

You wait for elaboration, but it doesn’t come. Instead, Angel takes a step back. He finds a seat on the steps, his left hand reaching up to rub his eyes.

“Yeah, I knew him? What the hell does that mean? You knew of him, or you kn—”

“No, I knew—I know him.” Angel releases a sigh, his fist crumpling the envelope he holds. “He was my cellmate.”

“No, he wasn't.” The response is automatic. The laugh you release echoes across the parking lot. The meaning behind Angel’s silence doesn’t fully register. Your brain is still reeling, trying to find a rational explanation to deny his statement and what it means. You shake your head. “No, he wasn’t. That is not fucking possible—“

“Cellblock D. That’s where they house all gang-affiliated inmates. They don’t give a shit if you’re an MC or not. It’s all the same.” Angel quietly explains, his eyes watching the realization begin to sink into your features. “They put you together with guys from other places, knowing you might not have a brother to watch your back if you need protection. Tommy’s cellmate had recently been discharged. So, after intake, I took the open space—“

“Angel, stop. I can’t have you telling me this,” you cut him off. The sight of your widened eyes not deferring Angel’s train of thought. “Do you know what this means for my case? Why couldn’t you just lie to me—”

“Because what I need to tell you is worse.”

series taglist: @angelreyesgirl89 @holl2712 @relaxing-najee @thedeviltohisangel @awkwardtayler @siempremamita @amorestevens @witching-hour @seize-the-droid @rosieposie0624 @sesamepancakes @est1887 @queenbeered @ticosas @blessedboo @helli4nthus @katjusja @melanicia @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @moneteguiza

mayans taglist: @lilacyennefer @pedropcl @holl2712 @rae-gar-targaryen @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @henrycavill19 @silverstarsandsuns @chellybear98 @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme​​ @tomhardydallasstarsgirl​​ @noz4a2​​ @wiccanmetallicrose​​ @crxssourbones​​ @kimljn​​ @starrynite7114​​ @richonne4life​​  @themarkblues​​ @mariaxliliana​​ @thelovelyleo23​​ @hail-horror-queen​​ @gemini0410​​ @binooo98​​ @the-jer-bear​​ @abbiesthings​​ @losolvidad0s​​ @helli4nthus​​ @babaohhhriley​​ @futureleo1678​​ @whatupitshuff​​ @trhett21​​ @trulysuccubus​​ @minnicelli​​ @sillygoose6969​​ @capnsaveahoe​​ @leahnicole1219​​ @crashbarbie​​ @cyka1312​​ @zoovent​​ @lakamaa12​​ @keithseabrook27​​ @vir-tually​​ @awkwardtayler​​ @rawrlittlepanda-95​​ @irenne-stans​​ @pearlkitten33​​ @ezs-baby-angels-whore​​ @sesamepancakes​ @toni9​ @vannabanana1995​ @queenbeered​ @shawty-fenty​ @kaystacks17​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @anactualcaseofthetruth​ @star017​ @cant-decide-at-this-moment​ @cocotheclown​ @watsonwise​ @ilovebey2018​ @oscars-wifeyyy​ @rosieposie0624​ @jennisdirtyimagines​  @ughdontbeboring​ @jjwriter23​ @briskywalker​ @peoniarose​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​ @partypoison00​ @making-starsdance​ @claytoncardenasbabymama​ @myakai13

[cocosstories]

Chris Evans One Shot

Prompt:

maybe you could write something cute/fluff mainly where the reader has been dating (either seb stan, cevans or tom holland :) ) and they get into a small fight and at the end they get engaged? (Like a fight where they are at the readers sisters wedding and the reader gets kinda mad why they haven’t been asked to get married yet after 5 years or so??) im sorry this is a long ask haha but hopefully not confusing 🥰 (its also my first ask im sorry 🤍) anything like this would be appreciative 🥰🤍

The wedding went off without a hitch, your older sister looked beautiful as she walked down the aisle to marry her love of just over a year.

You look down from your spot at the altar to your own love, Chris and give a small smile.

The two of you have been together for over five years now and many, were surprised that you have yet to tie the knot.

Anytime the subject of marriage came up, which seemed to ba a lot in the last forty eight hours given the theme of the weekend, you politely smiled.

"Were in no hurry. Just enjoying being together."

It was a generic answer but one that would satisfy and nosy relative that would ask.

The truth was, you would give anything to marry Chris. You were completely sure of what you wanted and with him dragging his feet, you were beginning to worry he didn't have the same certainty.

As your sister and her husband were pronounced man and wife, your mind comes back to focus and you celebrate with the rest of the guests.

There was a two hour break between the ceremony and the reception, giving time for guests to take a break from the festivities.

With your sister and new brother-in-law safely settled in the limo, you find Chris and head off to the hotel to change into your party dress.

"Can you help me with the zipper please?"

Chris is laying on the bed, watching T.V. when you come up to him. He sits up and pulls himself to the edge of the bed as you turn your back to him, placing yourself between his legs that are hanging over the side.

"I don't know why she insisted on all of us changing. I mean sure, the second ones will be easier to dance in but it just seems like a lot of money for only a few hours."

Your small rant catches his attention as he unzips the dress then turns you to face him.

"Why do I get the feeling this is more than about changing your dress?"

You sigh, not really wanting to start an argument.

"Its just the dress, Chris"

He takes your arm as you try to walk away.

"Y/N, talk to me. What is bothering you?"

He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear and you contemplate what to say to him.

"I'm just ready for this weekend to be over. If i have to endure one more relative asking when we are getting married, im going to scream."

Chris sighs.

"I knew that's what it was. We don't owe them anything Y/N. Our relationship is our business, not theirs. When we decide to get married, is our choice. Don't let them bother you. The weekend is almost over."

Irritation builds with his answer.

"And when are we going to make that decision?"

You pull away from him, heading back to the bathroom to finish getting ready.

"Why is this a big deal all of a sudden?"

Chris follows after you, stopping in the doorway of the bathroom and leaning against the frame of the open door.

"This isn't all of a sudden, Chris. We have been together for five years. Is it so odd that marriage is in my mind? Apparently it's just not on yours."

You pull on the new dress and struggle to reach the zipper, not really wanting to ask for help in the moment.

"Is that what you think? That i don't want to marry you?"

Your confession shocks him more than it probably should have. You had never let on just how much it bothered you before.

You had talked about marriage a few times throughout your relationship but he had always gotten the impression, you were happy with the way things were.

"What am i supposed to think? I've heard you say you want to settle down and start a family in so many interviews but i guess you just don't want that with me."

There is now hurt in your voice as the realization of your accusation hits both of you.

He walks over to you and brings you into his arms, you resisting a bit at first, not wanting to be more vulnerable than you are.

"I want to marry you. I want to raise a family with you. I love you. You are it for me. I hate that you would ever question that."

Hurt in his voice matches yours as he speaks.

"Then why haven't you asked me?"

Your voice was quiet and shaky with the question.

"Because I am a stupid man."

It was a simple answer that held a lot of truth. He pulls back from you, getting down on one knee and taking your hand.

"Y/N, it may have taken me some time and i may not have a ring but I would be even more stupid to use that as an excuse to wait any longer. I love you. You are my best friend, the love of my life. Would you do me the great honor if becoming my wife?"

It wasn't exactly the romantic proposal you had always imagined but it was perfect nonetheless.

You pull him up from the ground and kiss him deeply.

"Yes Chris, I will marry you!"

Tears stream down your face and you kiss him again.

Your phone rings a few minutes later, bringing you both back into reality.

'Y/N, where are you? Everyone will be here soon.'

You read the text from your mom with a sigh.

"Back to the craziness. Zip me up?"

You turn your back to him and he zips your dress up slowly, his fingertips lingering at the base of your neck.

"If we have to. Just promise me something, our wedding won't be like this. Just a ceremony and a party. No full weekend of events and costume changes."

You laugh, mentally agreeing with what Chris had just said. You loved your sister but her wedding did go a bit over the top for your taste.

"Deal."

With that, you head off to the reception, ready to dance the night away celebrating your sisters happy day while quietly planning your own.

Feedback is always welcomed and greatly appreciated

[rosaliepostsstuff]

A bit emotional || G.W.

pairing: George Weasley x reader; brother-in-law!Fred x reader

summary: Emotions have been getting the best of Y/N lately and while George is away on a work trip, Fred helps her discover something.

word count: 2437

warnings: mentions of urine, mentions of food, pregnancy, brief mention of sex, talk of biological parenting

tags: @izzyyy-1​ ; @amourtentiaa​ ; @hufflepuff5972​ ; @pandaxnienke​ ; @wheezyweasleys​ ; @harrysweasleys ; @ickle-ronniekins​ ; @starlightweasley​ ; @pxroxide-prinxcesss​

Feedback means the world to me!!

It was early afternoon on a Saturday, you found yourself in the bathroom of your flat above the shop. You had been ready to take action – your hair up, comfy clothes on, sleeves rolled up. Cleaning the bathroom was your duty – part of the agreement the three of you made when you moved in with George and Fred a couple of years before – when you and George had gotten married. The three of you shared the house chores according to what each of you disliked the least and it worked. Well, usually.

The whole bathroom was an absolute mess. You had cleaned it thoroughly the week before, as usual. There were splash stains all over the mirror. You swore you could smell urine in the air the whole time, which later confirmed not to be a figment of your imagination – the floor around the toilet was covered with tiny dots of dried stains, accumulating every time those two went to pee, due to their heights. You looked at the hamper, the lid wasn’t closed properly, a pair of boxers hanging on its edge.

“Fred!! George!!” you shouted out. They knew you well, and they knew better than to test your patience when you used that tone and volume. Without a word, you heard one chair move in your living room, then someone got up from the couch a second later. They stepped through the small hallway carefully and peaked their heads through the bathroom doorway.

“Whose are those?” you asked flatly, pointing at the boxers, then turned to them and placed one hand on your hip.

“Mine,” Fred answered after a glance.

“Is it that hard to put them in properly?” you questioned as soon as he finished.

Fred bit his tongue, suppressing a comeback. He walked over to the hamper and fixed it.

“And who used the toiled last?” you continued, pointing at the open toilet lid with a nod and folded your arms on your chest.

George avoided your gaze, walking over to the toiled to close the lid.

 The bathroom situation didn’t stay long on your mind, though, nor did it affect the atmosphere in your shared flat. In the two weeks that followed, however, similar, smaller situations happened. For example, when it was Fred’s turn to cook, he added too much salt for your liking, but the way he likes his food – again.

“You know well that you can add some more salt on your plate, but I can’t make it less salty, can I?!” you complained.

A week later, George had to leave for a work trip. It was his turn, while Fred stayed at home to keep an eye on the shop.

You dreaded the day he was supposed to leave and you tried not to let it show. You cursed yourself as you wiped fresh tears with your sleeve, looking at George who was checking if he took everything before saying goodbye. You were angry with yourself at getting so upset – this wasn’t the first time you’d been apart, and it was only 4 days. You were married, but not tied up together, you were still separate people. Sure, you always missed each other, but you never got this dramatic.

“Heey, baby, what’s up..?” George asked after looking up from his bag, noticing your tears. He closed the distance between the two of you in a few long steps and wiped your tears with his thumbs as you wrapped your arms around his middle automatically.

“It’s- it’s nothing…” you still tried to stop more tears from coming and pressed your face to his chest as he embraced you tightly. “I’ll just miss you, you know…” you tried to sound casual.

“I’ll miss you too, darling,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your forehead. His tone was sincere but slightly puzzled, he wasn’t expecting that big of a reaction. “It’s just 4 days and then I’ll be back,” he told you softly.

You cherished his embrace for a little bit longer before you said your goodbyes and let him apparate.

The first day and a half passed somewhat peacefully. You tried to focus on your own work and then find something to occupy yourself with once you were back at home. At least you weren’t completely alone – one could never feel alone with Fred around.

I was mid-afternoon, you had both just come back from work. You were stood in the kitchen, looking into the fridge without much interest. Fred was fixing some kind of sandwich for himself. You closed the fridge door then looked over at the mysterious mixture he poured over the sandwich and scrunched your nose up in disgust.

“Are you gonna eat that?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Smells disgusting, I’m getting nauseous…” you said, turning your back to him to put the kettle on.

“I dunno, smells good to me,” he stated simply, licking some of it off his finger and after a few seconds added “maybe you’re just pregnant.”

And then it hit you. How could you not think of it? How is it that when you’re trying not to get pregnant, the smallest things can seem like pregnancy symptoms to you, but now, you had missed all of them?

George and you had stopped using birth control about a month ago. You weren’t necessarily trying for a baby – you wanted one, sure, and figured the time was right. But both of you believed it would just happen sooner or later while you continue with your usual sex routine. You didn’t want to get too hung up on this and end up like some other couples you’ve heard of. For it to happen during your next cycle, however?

Fred turned to you, confused, after not hearing you get back at him for that joke. You turned around to look at him with a calm expression.

“You know, I might be,” you said seriously, trying not to freak out.

Fred’s eyebrows shot up immediately, his eyes open wide and he started nodding slowly, processing the information.

 You walked out of the bathroom to see Fred leaning against the wall, biting his lip. He looked at you right away expectantly. You walked next to him and slid down the wall to sit on the floor.

“5 minutes,” you told him, and he followed after you, sitting down.

“Did you… do you want to..?” he trailed off and you looked up at him. “What do you want it to say?”

“Oh,” you looked back down at your hands. “Both is fine, I guess. I mean, we were kind of trying. Pretty stupid of me to not add 2 and 2 together earlier…” you bit your bottom lip.

Fred nodded and put his arm around your shoulder, then glanced at the watch on his hand and took a deep breath.

 “Positive,” you said to Fred, who didn’t know the meaning of the two lines. “All three,” you added, placing the last stick back down.

Your eyes started watering and with a smile, you looked up at Fred, who was judging your reaction. You threw yourself at him, hugging him tightly. “I’m pregnant!”

“I’m gonna be an uncle!!” he exclaimed with a chuckle, lifting you up in a hug.

“Hang out with me tonight?” you asked after he placed you down. You had a feeling nothing would occupy you tonight, nothing else would keep your mind off of the fact that you were pregnant and were not able to tell your husband yet.

“You know you’re my favourite brother-in-law, right?” you smiled at him charmingly and chuckled, the remnants of your happy tears still making your eyes shine.

“I’ll believe you when you say that again, in front of Bill.”

 “So, what now?” Fred questioned, well into the evening, as the two of you were lounging in the living room. “Will you move out?”

“You’ve been waiting for that, weren’t you?” you laughed.

“As long as you keep sending me your baked goodies,” he quipped back.

“I mean, I guess. We’ll probably stay here a bit longer, we still have like eight months to go?” you said, placing a hand on your lower abdomen. “We’ll start looking for a house, the flat isn’t big enough to raise a baby,” you started counting. “You’d want us out of here after a few nights of the baby crying anyway and we were bound to move out someday.” You let your head fall back onto the rest, absentmindedly running your hand over your belly. “… find our own, family home,” you added.

“Mhm…” he hummed, sipping his tea.

“I’ll miss you, Fred,” you blurted out and felt tears coming up to your eyes.

No matter how many times Fred peeved you, he was a great friend, an amazing flatmate you’d never be bored with, and the best brother in law. And it was true, you’d miss sharing your daily life with him, bumping into him in the kitchen at 3 am on your way to grab some water.

Fred chuckled, shaking his head. His nature told him to tease you, but he knew you were being genuine. And he’d miss you too. He couldn’t have hoped for a better wife for his brother.

 You were restless from the moment you woke up, on the day George was supposed to come back. Your day at work seemed incredibly long and when you got back home, every sound seemed like George apparating inside.

You sat down on the couch, trying to read a book, but ended up reading the same page over and over again. You still didn’t know what you had read and your knee kept bouncing up and down.

Finally, ‘POP!’, you heard that sound and shut your book without marking the page and threw it onto the coffee table.

“Y/N, I’m home, darling,” George called out, placing his bags down in the hall. You met him at the entrance to the living room and jumped into his arms with excitement.

You breathed in his familiar smell and tightened your arms around his shoulders, burying your head in the crook of his neck.

“Good to have you back,” you mumbled into the fabric of his sweater and pulled back a bit to look at him.

“Good to be back,” he replied with a chuckle, looking at you adoringly before placing a sweet kiss onto your lips.

“Let’s sit down,” you told him after pulling away, dragging him to the couch by the hand before he could continue to pepper your face with kisses.

The moment you sat down, George was suspicious of you. You weren’t acting that weird but something was off.

You, on the other hand, suddenly felt nervous. For 48 hours you couldn’t wait to tell him, but now you didn’t know how.

“What’s up, love?” he asked you, shifting closer and squeezing your hand in his and placing his other on your thigh comfortingly.

“I have something to tell you,” you looked up at him, his eyes expectant. And you felt so lucky.

You looked into the eyes of the man you loved. The man who loved you. It felt like looking into his eyes when you were standing at the wedding arch, about to become united for eternity to come. You were reminded of all the love you shared, all the moments from your past that led you to where you were and it felt so right.

Just as you started to feel the lump in your throat again and your eyes getting wet, you were pulled out of your thoughts by the confusion and slight concern growing on George’s face.

“I’m pregnant,” you said before he could ask what was going on.

His grasp on your hand and thigh loosened momentarily as initial shock washed over him, you could almost see the information being processed in his eyes. And when it did, a huge smile broke on his face, but you didn’t get to see it for long before he pulled you into a tight hug.

“We’re having a baby,” he mumbled into your shoulder after a moment, then pulled away just enough to be able to bring your lips together. The kiss was passionate and full of emotion, there wasn’t much tenderness to it. You stopped when both of you were grinning too much to call it a kiss.

George pulled you down to lie on the couch with him, with a content sigh. You giggled, snuggling closer to him.

“You’re pregnant,” he said again, familiarizing himself with it. “I’m gonna be a dad,” he added, looking at you.

“You are,” you confirmed with a dopey smile.

“We’re gonna have a baby, that is so…” he looked up at the ceiling, starting his contemplations.

“You and I are going to have a child, that is crazy to think about. D’you know what I mean? Obviously, I’ve always wanted children with you and I knew how- parenting- worked, but- before it was a reality I didn’t think about it this way. I’m going to be the father of your baby. You’re going to have my baby. This baby is going to be equally mine as it’s going to be yours- and-“ he paused to take a deep breath, “-when you think about how it happened…”

You both chuckled at his existential thoughts and what they ultimately came down to. Though, you couldn’t help but agree with his rambles.

“So how..?” George started a question, bringing one of his hands to your lower abdomen.

“Oh, you know how I was acting weird lately. Fred then made some stupid comment and it just clicked in my head, I did a few muggle pregnancy test to make sure.”

You were quiet for a bit, enjoying each other’s embrace as George continued stroking your belly delicately.

“Y/N… do you-… do you think I’ll do alright?” he asked quietly. “As a dad..? I mean, I’m hardly responsible for myself…”

You looked up at him then brought your hand to stroke his cheek reassuringly and make him look at you, hoping to convey your message in the look of your eyes.

“You’re going to be a wonderful dad, the best one. And you are responsible, you test the boundaries often but with things that really matter – you’re one of the most responsible people I know, love. I would trust you with my life, with everything. And I couldn’t imagine a better dad for my children.” You kissed his cheek and he brought your body even closer to him, tearing up a bit himself.

“Can’t wait,” you added in a whisper into the skin of his neck.

[tracybirds]

So this is just a nice day for a picnic. Definitely no room for any angst here.

(in other words, this did not turn out like I planned and I’m rolling with it)

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

“Well, obviously, that is completely illegal,” said Gordon casually as he lay back against the picnic blanket. Her impeccable posture hardly deviated from perfect form as she sat on the ground, her legs neatly tucked to the side. She held a saucer neatly in her hand and raised an eyebrow as she lowered the teacup to rest upon it.

The deep red might have taken for a strongly steeped hibiscus tea, except Gordon knew exactly how Penelope felt about herbal teas. She’d hidden a lifetime supply in the linen cupboard in the fifth-floor bathroom before he’d finally discovered the stash.

A shame, he’d thought they were quite a nice gift.

“There’s no law against alcohol consumption here,” she said in a dignified manner, laying her hand across her wrist.

“Naw, you can’t drink wine in a teacup, that’s all.” Gordon tucked his arms under his head and grinned up at her. “Kansas law, babe.”

“It is not.”

“It is! Well, at least in Topeka.”

“Does it look like we’re in Topeka?”

His answering laugh was free as the birds above. There was no need for chemical enhancements when his very presence sunk into her skin with an intoxicating rush.

“Plenty more where that came from. Ask John some time, he’ll rattle them off for you.”

Gordon tugged her closer, smiling lazily and allowing the sound of her laugh to wash over him.

They lazed in the bright sunshine together, comfortably silent and content to simply be together.

“Do you miss it here?”

“What, Kansas?” Gordon’s eyes slid from her face up to the clouds above. “Naw. The island’s home now anyway.”

“How old were you when you left?”

Gordon shrugged and flipped himself over. His hands reached out, fingers plucking carelessly at the grass as he avoided her gaze.

“Technically we moved when I was eight. But I stuck around here for a few more years.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m surprised your father let you.”

“It was complicated, Pen. Mom had just died, and Dad…”

Gordon trailed off, not willing to criticise his father too harshly.

Penelope merely nodded and Gordon pulled himself together.

“He wanted to move us west to be closer to Grandma and so he could focus on business stuff. He packed us all up and we’d only just arrived when Scott and him had a massive fight.”

“Scott and your father did?”

“Yeah.” He grimaced. “You’ve never heard Scott mad like that before. He wanted to finish high school with his friends. I don’t know how, but he got his way. And I was sent back with him, and I still couldn’t tell you why.”

“And Scott was…”

“Seventeen. We stayed with Captain Taylor, he put us up for a bit. Then Scott finished school and I got moved to a boarding school.”

“That must have been hard to be away from your brothers.”

Gordon grinned. “Oh, it wasn’t all that bad. I made the qualifying times for my first national meet that year. Best thing Dad ever did for me, sending me to that school. I’d have never gotten my chance otherwise.”

Penelope shook her head.

“I’ve not once met someone who outright enjoyed their time at boarding school,” she said, drawing herself up primly.

Her school had been an academy with a rich history and a richer cohort. The lessons focused more on cutthroat politics and social status than literature and geometry, perfect for old money with a penchant for strife. The old girls crafted rules within rules for the new, a careful balance of control and power wielded with absolute cruelty. No harm of course, they were all ladies after all, but there Penelope had had to die before she could thrive.

“You haven’t?”

“No.”

Gordon sat up, a serious look on his face.

“Come on Pen, I know it’s not all sunshine and roses, but you can’t think of a single moment where you didn’t enjoy yourself? Surrounded 24/7 by your friends?”

Penelope swallowed carefully, pulling back from his touch.

“It wasn’t the kind of place for friends, Gordon.”

She closed her eyes, counting her breathing slowly and surely.

She tried not to think of all the times he’d introduced her to yet another group of his “greatest friends”, all the times she’d had another group of names to learn and backgrounds to check. She wondered he’d ever noticed that she never did the same in return. She doubted it had ever crossed his mind that she couldn’t.

A rough, calloused hand against her cheek stole her away from her thoughts and she opened her eyes with a start.

“I’m sorry then,” said Gordon softly.

Penelope looked down at him in surprise.

“Sorry?” she asked, eyebrows drawing together.

“Yeah.”

He reached out his other hand, rubbing her knee gently.

Penelope sat perfectly still, posture straight and expression blank, as she’d always been taught. Gordon didn’t push her but he didn’t leave her either, and suddenly Penelope knew that he never would. He wouldn’t use her feelings against her, not when he’d already entrusted her with all his joy, his rage, his heartache. She’d always been adamant that she’d left that hopelessly fearful schoolgirl behind in a cramped cupboard during a rainstorm, listening to cruel laughter and echoing footsteps fade away, but here she was, huddling inside her heart all along.

She had wanted to be found so desperately, and now here came someone who had flung open the door and perched on an upside-down bucket beside her.

She crumpled and Gordon caught her, as she’d known he would, and then she paid him no mind at all as she grieved that little girl still trapped in her school.

“I’ve got you, Pen.” He whispered it over and over, over and over. “I got you.”

[let-the-dream-begin]

A Family of Our Own: Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Read on AO3

May, 1754

Claire was in her garden with Maggie. Brianna and Kitty were supposed to be helping as well, but they were a bit preoccupied chasing chickens and making the dogs bark their heads off.

“I don’t want to hear it if either of you get bitten!” Claire called over her shoulder.

“We won’t, Mummy!” Brianna said, exasperated.

Claire turned back to face Maggie again, and the girl shook her head.

“Ye canna stop them,” she said. “No’ until it’s too late.”

“You’re too right.”

Claire was just about to demonstrate something for Maggie when the sound of a horse’s hooves caught her ear.

“Girls! Get the dogs inside!” They obeyed, turning it into another game of sorts to corral the beasts. She didn’t want the dogs spooking the horse and throwing whoever the rider was to the ground. It was midday, and they weren’t expecting any visitors. Claire squinted down the road, wiping her hands free of dirt on her apron, her throat clenching on instinct at the sight of a flash of red. Her nerves settled however, when she remembered.

Once a quarter.

Apparently it was time for Jamie’s first visit from Lord John Grey.

“Who is it, then?” Jenny appeared on the porch, flanked by the girls, including Janet this time, all having realized that getting the dogs inside could only mean a visitor on horseback.

“It’s Lord Grey,” Claire said, returning to Maggie’s side.

“Lord ha’ mercy,” Jenny breathed. “Inside, girls. Now.”

“He won’t hurt anybody,” Claire said, furrowing her brow. “There’s no need to worry. Jamie trusts him.”

“That makes one of us,” Jenny said, her jaw hard, and her eyes fierce. “Inside,” she said again, and Maggie trudged past Claire to obey her mother.

“Wait, Brianna,” Claire called, stopping her from joining the throng.

“Are ye mad, sister?”

“I want her to meet him,” Claire said lightly. “It’s about time she meets a respectable Englishman,” she reasoned, with no little disdain directed at the assortments of horrible Englishmen they’d been harassed by over the years. “Besides, he’s a friend of her father.”

“Respectable and English dinna belong in the same sentence,” Jenny grumbled, ushering the girls inside.

“Should I take offense to that?” Claire said testily, putting one hand on her hip and the other on Brianna’s shoulder.

“I’ll let ye know in a bit.” She gestured with her chin, and Claire turned around to see the horse crossing the threshold of the archway. She was surprised by his appearance; she didn’t know why. Perhaps it was because he bore little to no resemblance to the scrawny young lad from all those years ago. His face was kind and gentle; his eyes held both quiet mirth and an impenetrable sadness. He was slender but still finely muscled, the makings of a good soldier.

“Good day, Madame,” he said, slowing his horse to a stop. “Is this Broch Tuarach?”

“That it is,” Claire answered.

The man paused for a moment, blinking back something that was seemingly shock, his lips parting silently, then closing. “Well,” he said, awed. “I do believe I’m in the presence of the Englishwoman I’ve heard so very much about.”

He dismounted, keeping hold on the reins. He bowed lowly, bringing his tricorn hat to his chest, maintaining eye contact all the while. “Lord John Grey,” he said. “I am entirely at your service, Ma’am.”

“Claire Fraser,” she answered, curtsying, keeping one hand on Brianna’s shoulder. “And I do believe it is I who is at your service, my Lord. You’re the reason I’m no longer a widow, after all.”

He smiled, almost seeming uncomfortable as he put his hat back in place. “Yes, well, it was the least I could do,” he said. “And this is?”

“Brianna Fraser,” Claire said proudly, nudging the girl a bit so that she’d curtsy. “My daughter. Jamie’s daughter.”

“My God,” John breathed, his eyes wide with wonder. “No wonder she’s his spitting image. He never mentioned…”

“He never knew,” Claire said sadly. “I wasn’t showing until after Culloden. She was quite the surprise.” Claire gripped both of Brianna’s shoulders.

“Indeed,” John said. “Well, Mistress Fraser, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Brianna answered, her normally hybrid speech entirely posh, her nose stuck in the air. Claire briefly contemplated that perhaps her daughter was mocking John’s Englishness, but she quickly dismissed the thought.

“She doesn’t have the burr, then?” John said, amused.

“She has whatever she wants in the moment,” Claire said with a chuckle. “She’s quite the impressionist. Isn’t that right, darling?”

“Indeed, Mother,” she said in the same tone, staring John down, or up, rather.

Both of the adults chuckled, perhaps a bit uncomfortably.

“This is one of Da’s dearest friends, Brianna,” Claire said cheerily, squeezing her shoulders and looking down at her. “He’s the reason that he came home to us. I’d like it if we were all friends. Wouldn’t you?”

“I should indeed love to make the acquaintance of one of the King’s finest,” Brianna said rather obnoxiously, drawling the vowels like a veritable fop. “Even if he’s a bloody Redcoat,” she added, not skipping a beat, her accent remaining perfect.

“Brianna — !”

“John!”

Before Claire could scold her daughter’s behavior, Jamie came running from the side of the house, trailed closely by Rabbie, likely along to take care of John’s horse. John smiled uncomfortably at Claire before turning to greet Jamie as he quickly approached. Claire was rather shameless in how she admired her husband, glistening as he was with sweat from a long day in the fields, curls damp and wild, shirt slightly stained at the collar and clinging to him despite its loose fitting, exposing the overworked muscles beneath. She had to remind herself there was company, including that of their small daughter.

Dragging her eyes off of her husband’s beautifully made body, she immediately noticed she was not the only one aware of said beauty.

John immediately changed when Jamie came into view, in ways that Claire could not exactly put her finger on. He seemed lighter, as if being fed for the first time after months of starvation.

Christ...this isn’t attraction.

This man is in love with my husband.

“Christ, man, it’s good to see ye,” Jamie said enthusiastically, shaking John’s hand with fervor. “Ye’ve met her then? Ye met my wife? And my child?”

Any insecurity that had just seized Claire’s heart upon her realization melted away, and she strode contentedly to meet Jamie, pulling Brianna along by the hand. She smiled, standing at Jamie’s side and settling herself into him, warming to her core as Jamie draped an arm over her shoulder. She reveled in the smell of him; dirt, manure, sweat, and Jamie, his general masculinity.

“Yes, I’ve had the pleasure,” John said, smiling more genuinely at Claire. “Beautiful, both of them.”

“Thank ye, a charaid.” Jamie was warm against her, flushing with pride. “Can ye imagine? I had a bairn all those years and I hadnae a single clue.”

“I can’t imagine,” John said. “You must have been overjoyed.”

“Aye.” Jamie looked down at me, catching my eye sweetly, then winked down at Brianna. “She is...they both are my greatest joys.”

“It does my heart good to see you so happy, Jamie,” John’s voice became soft and light, his eyes glistening. “To have seen you through such pain, then to see you like this…” He stopped himself, seemingly overcome. Claire threaded her arm around Jamie, grasping at his side. “It’s overwhelming.”

“It is,” Jamie agreed. “There are still days I canna believe it’s true. I’m overwhelmed near every day at my luck. And it’s because of you, John. You are the reason I’ve got them back.”

He grasped John’s hand, tightly. Claire felt herself go flush, and she tightened her grip on Jamie’s side despite herself.

“I’d do it again and again, Jamie, no matter the risk.”

Their hands remained clasped together, and they maintained eye contact, and Claire suddenly felt like an unwelcome voyeur to something she did not fully understand.

He told me nothing happened. He told me nothing happened. He—

“Mummy,” Brianna piped, still not dropping her put-on airs. “I would quite enjoy something to eat.”

“Christ, a nighean, why’re ye speaking like yer mother?” Jamie wrinkled his nose down at Brianna, finally releasing John’s hand.

Brianna shot a look at John, her nostrils flared. “I’m hungry.”

“Alright, lovie. Go inside and ask Mary MacNab for something from the kitchen. We’ll be in.”

Claire briefly brushed a few curls away from Brianna’s face before the girl scampered inside, apparently all too eager to get away.

“I’m sorry…” Claire said once Brianna was inside. “She’s not normally so rude.”

“She was rude?” Jamie furrowed his brow.

“Before you got here, she called him a bloody Redcoat.”

Jamie snorted, then smiled crookedly at John. “Well, she isna wrong.”

Claire pinched Jamie’s side, causing him to jerk a bit.

“She also was most certainly mocking his speech,” Claire said. “She does that sometimes, impersonates the Redcoats that come by. To make her cousins laugh. I suppose she thought she’d try doing it to your face since she knows you’re a friend.”

“Yes, well,” John dipped his head a bit, clasping his hands behind his back. “I can’t say I blame her. I’ve heard brutal things.”

“Aye. My family suffered many an indignity in my absence at the hand of some Redcoat or another,” Jamie said, tightening his grip on Claire. “My brother-in-law told me Claire was beaten.”

“Oh, Jamie,” Claire said. “I wish he hadn’t…”

“No, I’m glad he did. Because if he ever returned — ”

“I know Lord John is a friend,” Claire interrupted quickly. “But perhaps it’s best either way to...refrain. From what you’re about to say. Or anything similar.”

Jamie nodded, tight-lipped. “Aye. Well, ye get the idea. The wean’s trust has been broken. Hers and the rest of my family, unfortunately. My sister is none too pleased ye’re here.”

“Brianna has had to lie to protect me, us, all her life,” Claire said softly. “She saw me bruised and bloodied after that beating. She’s...she’s only eight. Back then she was only six. It’s...difficult to conceptualize a ‘good Redcoat’. For everyone, not just her.”

“I understand,” John said. “Believe me, I do. The last thing I want is to make anybody uncomfortable. I’ll just fill out the report and be on my way.”

“Ye mean just leave?” Jamie said, incredulous. “I’ll no’ have that. Ye’ve been traveling fer days, no doubt, no’ a home-cooked meal in sight.”

“Well, yes — ”

“And beds at an inn arena so comfortable, I ken it well.”

“Stay the night?” Claire said, perhaps a little too abruptly. “Do you think that’s the best idea? You know...Jenny?” she added quickly.

Not because I’m threatened...because of Jenny.

“Jenny can hang,” Jamie said, genially. “This man sacrificed his own safety to see me home. Right this minute he’s putting himself in danger, knowing as he does I’m no Mister Malcolm. The least we can do fer him is give him some leisure, good food, and a warm bed. Fer one night.”

Claire sighed. “Alright. But you are talking to Jenny.”

John chuckled, oblivious as to just how much he should fear Janet Fraser Murray.

“Speaking of Mister Malcolm, should I mention a Mistress Malcolm in my report?” John asked.

“Well...the other officers who’ve come by know me as a Fraser cousin, and a Scot at that,” Claire said uneasily. “Elizabeth Fraser.”

“I suppose I could say Mister Malcolm was made a widower during his time in prison, and that he’s remarried to the previously unmarried Fraser cousin. Would that make it easier for you both to live your lives together?”

Jamie and Claire exchanged a look. “What d’ye think, mo ghraidh? Any interest in being Mrs. Malcolm?”

She hummed an amused laugh. “It would be an honor.”

He leaned in to kiss her sweetly, and Claire was so swept up in the moment, she nearly forgot John was standing right in front of them.

“I thank ye, John,” Jamie said warmly.

“We thank you,” Claire corrected, smiling at John while embracing Jamie, “my friend.”

“It is a privilege to be known as such by such a woman,” John said with a small bow of his head.

“Shall I show ye around the grounds, then?” Jamie said, excited. “The lads are in the fields waiting fer me to return, but they can surely wait. Fergus can lead.”

“Fergus. Your son?” John said, as if recalling.

“Aye,” Jamie said, swelling with pride. “Ye’ll meet him at supper.”

Claire nearly offered to show John around herself so that Jamie may get back to work, but she knew that he was proud of his ancestral home and that he would find great joy in showing his friend all there was to see.

But she was too curious to pass up the opportunity to be alone with John for a few minutes.

“Why don’t you tell the lads you won’t be back so they’re not waiting for you? The last thing we need is Jenny’s wrath that productivity was slowed for all this,” Claire said.

“Aye, ye’re right.”

“We’ll wait for you in the stables, I’ll show him the stock.”

Jamie made a Scottish noise of approval, squeezing Claire to him and kissing her temple before darting off to the fields.

“Shall we?”

Claire looked up to see that John was offering her his arm. She curtsied slightly before accepting, fitting her arm in the crook of his elbow before heading off around the house and toward the stables.

“You have no idea how often he spoke of you,” John said, seemingly out of nowhere. “He loves you dearly.”

“I know,” Claire said. “I can assure you it is equally returned. Believing him dead was...nothing short of horrific. For eight years.”

“I am sorry,” John said, sincerely. “If there were a way to get word to you safely…”

“Please, don’t. You’ve risked yourself enough as it is.” Claire gave his arm a squeeze, offering him a reassuring smile.

A small silence passed between them, nothing to be heard but the bleating of the goats, the clucking of the chickens, and the leaves rustling around them.

“You love him,” Claire said.

John stiffened against her, nearly stopping in his tracks. “No, I hardly know what — ”

“It wasn’t a question,” Claire said, strengthening her resolve a bit, hardening her jaw. “Jamie told me of your predilections.”

He made to pull away, panicked. “Madame, I — ”

“It’s alright, my Lord.” Claire tightened her grip, not letting him get away. “Where I come from...such things are not so taboo.”

He gawked at her. “I’d certainly like to know where that is.”

“It’s...hard to explain,” Claire said wistfully.

John cleared his throat. “How...how much did he tell you?”

“He told me of your friend that you lost. Which…I am sorry for that loss.”

“Thank you,” he said, his voice tight.

“And he told me how you...looked at him. And now that you’re here...I see it.” Claire looked away, staring ahead at the stables as they came into closer view. “You look at him the way he looks at me.”

“I…” John sighed. “I don’t know what to say.”

“I’m not sure either.” Claire kept her gaze ahead, uncomfortably aware of their closeness. “In a way, selfishly...I’m glad you love him so much. Because that’s what brought him back to me. But it’s...cruel, isn’t it?”

“How is that?”

“Because he...he’s not…” Claire almost stopped, as John nearly had before. “He isn’t. Is he?”

John chuckled softly, smiling sadly. “There were a few times where I thought perhaps he might be. But his heart belongs to only one.”

Claire could feel his eyes on her, so she turned her head, making uncomfortable eye contact. “So you really never…”

“No, Madame, I did not. We did not.” He did stop then, looking at her seriously. “I’d never met you, of course, but I’d not be able to live with myself if I was part of betraying you.” He started walking again, his more serious point made. “I confess I hardly even had the desire, knowing as I did how madly he loves you.”

“Hardly?” Claire’s brow furrowed.

“Well…” She could feel the heat from his blush radiating off of him. “I couldn’t say never. That would be a lie. And I do pride myself on my honesty.” His words were clipped and terse; Claire almost regretted bringing it up. “You could say the mind was willing, but the flesh was weak. In a way.”

Claire nodded slowly, staring ahead again. “If it...weren’t for me. Would you have?”

She felt him stiffen again. “No. It would be an abuse of my power over him. Such a thing would be despicable.”

Despite his discomfort, Claire could hear the genuineness in his voice. It was a comfort to know, but that still wasn’t what she meant.

“What if...that wasn’t an issue?” she pressed further. “Would you have?”

She heard him swallow. “Well...yes. I’d have tried.”

Claire nodded. “Would he…?”

“You know him better than I do,” John said, not a hint of malice. He meant it.

“I’m...I’m not so sure about that,” Claire said, sounding more sad than she’d meant to. “I just mean it’s...it’s been eight years. A lot of things can change in that time. People change.”

“While that may be true, Madame Fraser, one thing has not changed,” he stopped again, turning to face her, taking both of her hands in his, “and that is the love he bears you. That I can assure you.”

Claire forced a smile, gratefully squeezing his hand.

“God, you are a dreadfully forward woman,” he said, chuckling.

“I’ve always been terribly honest,” she said sheepishly.

“While frightening, I don’t find that necessarily a detriment,” he said lightly. He offered his arm again, and she took it much less hesitantly, leading the rest of the way to the stables.

“Do you know that I bear you no ill will?” John said rather suddenly. “I realize how shallow of a promise that may seem, given that you have everything I’ve ever wanted and could never have. But it’s true.” Claire felt shame burning in her core to think of her initial reaction to the depth of John’s feelings. “Do you know what I said to Jamie after he was freed?”

“Cherish that wife of yours, Fraser,” Claire quoted fondly. “He told me.”

“Did he tell you why I said it?”

“No?”

“He asked me what he could do to repay me,” John said.

Claire felt an unexpected rush of tears, suddenly overcome with something resembling pity, mixed with immense gratitude. She squeezed his arm and looked at him.

“Thank you, my Lord.”

“John,” he corrected lightly. “Please.”

“Then I’m Claire,” she echoed, “John.”

“Alright, Claire.”

They finally reached the stables, and Claire took the initiative to introduce him to all of the horses. Rabbie was in a stall with John’s horse, still brushing the beast down as he gnawed on his hay. John was absolutely tickled when Claire introduced Alastair as Brianna’s horse.

“Takes after her father, then?”

“Quite. She’d been begging me to ride since she could talk. I delayed it for years because of her condition.”

“Condition?” John’s brow furrowed, concerned.

“Oh, she’s perfectly healthy. Just...leftover complications from a difficult birth. If she fell it could kill her. I’m just...paranoid.”

“I see,” John said, though he still seemed concerned. “Does Jamie know?”

“Do I know what?” Jamie appeared in the doorway of the stables.

“Brianna’s condition,” Claire said, welcoming Jamie back into her arms.

“Oh, aye, I ken all about that,” Jamie said. “She’s a fighter, my daughter. Braw wee thing.”

“I can tell,” John said, smiling knowingly.

“Alright,” Jamie said, taking the place that John had just had, settling Claire’s arm in the crook of his elbow. “Ye’re acquainted wi’ the beasts, aye? Shall we move on to the rest of the land?”

Claire and John exchanged a fond look before both looking up at Jamie.

“We shall,” John said.

[holykillercake]

Hazy Justice - Chapter 01

02 03

Cop!Smoker x Military Doctor!Reader

word count: 2k

summary: After eight years serving your country in a war, you returned to your hometown as the new head of Trauma Surgery in one of the best hospitals in the country. You were expecting a calmer life now, but suddenly you see yourself choosing between your brain and your heart, light and dark, justice and evil.

notes: This is a new multipart fic I´m working on! Hope you guys like it!

𝕃𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕤, 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕤, 𝕠𝕣 𝕘𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕤!

It felt good to be home. After all of those years serving on hostile grounds, it felt good to be back in your beloved hometown, Lucky Bay. The name comes after the city's borderline that contoured a lucky clover shape. It wasn't a perfect drawing but it worked to give it some meaning, after all, people from all over would move there to try a better life.

Eight years have passed since you left to serve your country's ally in war as a Military Doctor, now that it was over not only you'd receive a Medal of Honor but also an incredible job offer as the new head of Trauma Surgery in one of the greatest hospitals of the country, the Hiruluk Institute of Medicine and Scientific Research.

The timing couldn't be more perfect and also the circumstances; they gave you a top floor apartment in one the best districts of the city, they borrowed you a car and they had beautiful scrubs ready for you to slip in and work. After eight years of experiencing nothing but pain and agony, you deserved to be spoiled a little.

And it wasn't like you were alone, you had an older brother and a friend who could keep you company and update you on the changes. Your brother was a businessman, owner of hotel chains, casinos, and luxury restaurants. Your friend, Tashigi-chan, was actually the sister of a late comrade, you kept in contact with her after he passed and you became friends eventually. You heard she joined the Police Task Force.

¨Tashigi-chan!¨ you smiled from ear to ear and waved your hand.

¨Y/N-san, I'm not a kid anymore you can call me just Tashigi...¨ her cheeks blushed and you pulled her to a tight bear hug.

¨You keep calling me Y/N-san! I'm not that old!¨

¨Of course! This is not what I mean, Y/N-san!¨ her eyes widened ¨Y/N. Y/N-san!¨

You were amused with her clumsy way, you knew she'd never stop calling you by ¨san¨ mostly because of the respect people had towards militaries.

¨So you'd feel better if I called you Tashigi-san?¨ her eyes almost fell out of their sockets, probably thinking she wasn't worthy of such respect.

When you came to an agreement that you would call her just ¨Tashigi¨ she led the way to one of her favorite bakeries so you could gossip.

¨How's the job?¨ you asked, mouth filled with pastries.

¨It's good, it's difficult to get them to see me as equal sometimes. Not my boss, though, he sees me as any other of his men.¨

¨Vergo's still working at the Police Task Force?¨

¨No! I mean, he is but, they added another Commander for special cases, Smoker-san.¨ you tried to remember any rookie by the name of Smoker, but failed greatly. Either you're memory from eight years ago is not as fresh as you thought or you never met him.

¨I hope I get to meet him one day, it's always good to know we have competent men on the field.¨

¨Uhm, he is! He's the best at what he does.¨ she sipped her coffee ¨But, anyway, where are you staying, Y/N-san?¨

¨Oh, it's a lovely place, once it's settled you have to come by! It's a building called Drum Tower, close to the Hiruluk hospital.¨ she seemed a little surprised.

¨Drum Tower? At Grand Avenue 1746?¨

¨Hum...yeah. How do you know?¨

¨That's where Smoker-san lives.¨

~

¨So, what do you think? How was your first night call shift?¨ the head of General Surgery, Dr. Marco, asked, placing a cup of coffee in front of you.

¨Oh, thanks!¨ you took a sip ¨Easy peasy, actually, not a lot of trauma and the residents seem pretty adequate. ¨

¨You shouldn't say things like that, Y/N-ya.¨ Dr. Law, head of Cardiothoracic Surgery, said when he entered the break room. He took off his white with dark spots surgery cap and poured himself a cup of coffee.

¨Didn't know you were superstitious, Dr. Trafalgar.¨ you played with him.

¨Not superstitious, Y/N-ya, carefulstitious.¨ he somehow managed to say this with a straight face and you chuckled, shocked to see him making jokes, not great jokes, but jokes nonetheless.

¨This is not good, you said that there's not a lot of trauma and you just made a joke. Something really bad will happen, I can feel it coming.¨ the blonde rubbed his temples.

¨Well, whatever it is I'm leaving for you guys. My shift ends in seven minutes and I am going ho-¨ you were ruthlessly interrupted by all of your pagers beeping non-stop. You looked at each other, skeptic.

You gathered with the other attendings and staff on the Emergency Department where the Chief of Surgery, Dr. Kureha, was delegating duties and recapping some protocols.

¨...mass casualty and our Trauma One Center's been asked to respond. We don't have enough information about the accident, but I'll keep you posted. Dr. Y/L/N, you'll be conducting and leading a triage team on the field and Dr. Marco will be in charge of assigning the incoming wounded, the Isshi-20 will be at your disposal. Minor injuries will be redirected to Dr. Muret at the clinic. Dr. Trafalgar, I want you for Rapid Response, you'll have Tony to assist you if needed. ¨

¨My unit can handle it, Dr. Kureha.¨ he was calm, showing no sign of concern. The old woman just gave him a nod.

¨The other attendings will help take care of the injured. We're gonna need all hands on deck. Come on, people!¨

The Emergency Department became a mess of doctors running around, opening as many beds as they could, getting new charts ready, and waiting for the first wave from the scene to arrive.

¨...trays, intubation carts, and central line kits.¨ you heard Dr. Marco tell his team. He looked nothing like he was in the break room, no lazy eyes and no jokes.

You decided to give your crew a pep talk while the ambulance was on its way to get you.

¨Do you all have your kits?¨ your team nodded ¨Hold them on your laps in the ambulance, IDs outside your jackets, and don't disturb the rescue team. I won't hold your hands once we get there, so I expect each and every one of you to have your shit together. Those people will be in pain and fear so we don't get to freak out. I don't know what kind of scene we'll find in there, but I'll make sure the person who chickens out doesn't see the inside of an OR for 3 months. Was I clear? ¨

You too became a different person and maybe tougher than you had to, but they needed to be prepared for the worst of these triage calls. Especially because you had among your residents future Military Doctors and on a battlefield, you can't expect someone to cover for you if you fail. Comrades die and you might get killed.

¨How long until we arrive?¨ you asked the driver.

¨Three minutes.¨ he let you know that the accident happened on a district across town, that was the reason of the relatively long trip. 

The city was divided into five different districts, all equally wealthy but for different reasons.

 At eight o'clock were the Light District, the district of extravagance, fine pleasure, and splendidness with all of the daintiest restaurants, opulent hotels, and luxurious casinos. That's where your brother held his businesses.

At ten o'clock lived loudly and full of nostalgia the Shadow District, home of pubs, clubs, and eclectic bars. The sanctuary for gangs and teenage rebels with their bright hair colors and flashy clothes.

Moving on to twelve o'clock you'd find the Commercial District, a place for fun and joy with the libraries, museums, martial art dojos, and paintball arenas. Anything and any service could be found in there.

At two o'clock was your current home, the Justice District, it was also a lively one with the hospital, the base unit of the Police Task Force, and courts. Besides these busy spots, you had the majority of policemen, judges, and doctors living in there.

Last but not least, the Noble District, a place where not everyone could just walk into. It was mostly residential, all houses were named mansions like the Polar Mansion, where your coworker Dr. Trafalgar lives, and the Blue Whale Mansion, where Dr. Marco's family lives.

All of these divisions were connected in the center of the city by the Lucky Lake, a romantic point where dreamful hearts would throw their coins and make wishes. The districts were connected, altogether with some other important points, by a subway line. The only exceptions were the Light and the Noble Districts where the subway line would only take people to their entrances. People who could afford the Light District wouldn't take the subway and you needed identification to enter the Noble District.

The accident occurred across the town, at the Sora, Warrior of the Sea Theme Park, between the Light District and the Shadow District. The place didn't exist when you lived there eight years ago and it was a shame that that's how you'd get to know it.

¨Alright,¨ you noticed the ambulance stopping and sirens wailing around you. ¨we're here. Remember my words. I'm not gonna have my eyes on you the entire time, so if you need help come to me or someone else, just don't stop, ok?¨

They agreed and you opened the back door, letting not only the light come in but also the sight of chaos.

Police tapes were closing different perimeters, paramedics had already started the triage process separating the life-threatening injuries from the non-life-threatening ones.

It looked like a calamity had passed by, the long and large path of wrecked asphalt ended inside of a burning store, together with what you thought was a roller coaster cart.

The fire team was occupied trying to shut down the fire and rescue people who were trapped in. You suspected you would not have as many problems as you thought, giving that the majority of rescuers carried lifeless bodies. In any way, you were ready to save lives and bring people back from the gates of heaven. You wouldn´t let them go that easily, not on your watch. 

You gave your team final instructions and rushed into the ocean of paramedics, policemen, and wounded victims.

~

When was the last time that I slept? you asked yourself while chugging an energy drink. You didn't love the taste but desperate times call for desperate measures.

You rolled your head making some bones pop and your shoulders stiffen. Your legs were swollen, your mind was foggy and you could feel a bit dehydrated, nothing you weren't used to, but it didn't mean you enjoyed it.

¨Heading home?¨ Marco tossed his white coat in his locker.

¨Yeah. You?¨ he nodded.

The break room became silent while you collected your things, both too tired to cheat chat. It was about two in the morning and you had received permission to go home since the situation was taken care of.

¨Y/N.¨ you turned to the blonde who stood at the door with his eyes lazier than usual ¨Welcome to our hospital.¨

Despite the exhaustion, you couldn't help but smile.

~

¨Hold the elevator!¨ you screamed before the door closed and jumped in ¨Thanks.¨

The man hummed ¨Floor?¨

¨Oh, it's pressed already, thanks.¨

He just hummed again, just like you he'd had a long day and didn't notice anything peculiar with your statement.

When the door opened the two of you left and walked down the hallway alongside each other, without even realizing. It was just when you put the key in the porthole that the information got processed.

He also had the same reaction, turning around surprised - although his ¨surprise¨ look was more grumpy.

¨You//You!¨ you spoke in unison.

¨Yes, me! Nice to meet you!¨ you gave him your hand to shake.

¨Yeah, you too. Uhm, thanks for the cigars, by the way. And welcome to the building.¨

As a Good Neighborhood Policy gift, you had given him a box of cigars. The doorman had told you about his addition when you asked what kind of person he was. The hope was to give it to him in person, but he seemed to be never at home, so you just left it at his door.

¨Yeah, thanks!¨ a moment of silence ¨Yeah, goodnight, then. It was a pleasure.¨

¨Goodnight.¨ he smiled shortly before entering his place, you did the same.

Crouching down by the door while you debated with your own mind whether you'd take a shower or sleep on the couch, your eyes shut and you fell unconscious.

[topsytervy]

Hello ~ Rafe Cameron

This is Part 2 to Goodbye cause I had the thought in my head and I didn't want to write it only for it to sit in my docs so you can read Goodbye (aka Part 1) here.

Blurb: A lot can change in five years.

Word Count: 3,677

Warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, smoking, cocaine, spelling/grammar mistakes, i think that's it.

Small note: I’m 19 and have never planned a wedding. I’ve been to my fair share of weddings as guests and my only experience with a wedding would have been when my sister got married, however, her in-laws are kind of assholes so her wedding was really lowkey and shit, like it took place in my sister backyard lowkey, cause her mother-in-law was like 'Im not paying for anything cause you guys wont last but I'll pay for your sisters weddings' so like I’m winging half of this shit if not most of it. I’m sorry.

~~~~~

It was 5 years later.

You were 21, along with the rest of the pogues, and able to legally drink and purchase alcohol. So no more hassle with a fake ID.

Nothing had changed except for college and jobs. You and JJ had broken up after two years of dating and, much to everyone's surprise, it was like nothing had ever happened between you two.

It was insanely easy to slip back into the friend zone with JJ, despite both of you thinking that it would be awkward. Both of you fell back into old habits fairly quickly. Sure there were the first couple of weeks where you two felt as if you had to force normality but after that, it was like nothing happened. Sure, JJ still called you princess and you still found yourself hiding into his side during scary movies, but those were habits you two had prior to dating, and old habits die hard.

The only other difference was that John B and Sarah were getting married.

They were planning on getting married at The Lodge at Bear River in fall which meant a ferry to the mainland and then an almost 8-hour road trip to the venue. 

You, Kie, and Wheezie were bridesmaids, Kie being maid of honor, and Pope, JJ, and much to John B's displeasure, Rafe were groomsmen, JJ being best man. 

You and Pope were walking together which left Rafe and his half-sister to walk together. 

Rafe looked at his sister and John B, trying to stay as unphased as possible. "Y/N's gonna be a part of the wedding party?" He asked, taking a drag from his cigarette from his spot by the pool. 

John B and Sarah were outside at the patio table with their wedding planner, going over guests and the wedding party. The three looked over at Rafe and Sarah nodded.

"Why wouldn't she?"

"No reason. If you need someone to walk with her, I'll do it." He told her as nonchalantly as possible. 

"She's walking with Pope." John B responded. Rafe made a face as he brought the cigarette back up to his lips and John B narrowed his eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry. Is there a problem?" Sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"No. No problem. It's your wedding."

John B rolled his eyes before turning back to the wedding planner. 

Rafe stood up and walked inside, flipping John B the bird as he walked by. He felt as if John B was put on this earth just to make him miserable at this point.

Rafe walked over to the bar and fixed himself a drink, Wheezie rolling her eyes from her spot on the couch in between Rose and Ward, who were currently scrolling through formal wear for the wedding. 

"Dad, Rafe's day drinking... again." The now eighteen-year-old piped up.

Rafe glared at her. "Just wait Wheezie. This will be you in a few years." He told his half-sister with a smirk.

Wheezie scrunched up her face in disgust at the sight of her brother holding his cigarette in one hand and drink in the other.

Rose, a glass of wine in her hand, rolled her eyes at her stepson as Ward, a gin and tonic in his hand, just sighed. "It's five o'clock somewhere, Wheezie." 

Rafe clinked his glass against his father’s as he made his way upstairs to his old room that he was temporarily staying in since his apartment building had taken some damage during the latest hurricane and was currently getting the necessary repairs done, and closed the door behind him. He sat down at his old desk chair and looked at the corkboard above the desk where a couple of polaroid pictures of you hung. The pictures were the first thing Rafe went looking for when he had gotten back to his apartment, letting out a sigh of relief when he saw the little lockbox he had stored the polaroids still in the closet and completely unscathed. Rafe downed his drink as he swiveled his chair back and forth. 

Of course, John B wouldn't pair you and him up. That would be helping a brother out. Rafe did everything he could to show that he changed once he heard you and JJ broke up.

 He quit cocaine and took up cigarettes instead. He went back to college and got a business degree. He was currently working and getting along with his father. He had his life together, mostly, and on track. The only thing missing from his life was you.

He had barely spent more than 5 minutes in a room with you since the breakup because you were either by JJ or you retreated as far from him as possible. He'd casually bring you up in conversation with John B and your friend would just roll his eyes. 

"We don't bring you up in conversations, Rafe." John B told him one day.

That cut the blue-eyed man deep.

Especially since this was after Rafe gave John B the money he needed to buy Sarah an engagement ring. 

Some wingman John B was.

Rafe stood up with a sigh and walked downstairs, deciding to bring the entire bottle of whiskey upstairs since he could already tell it was going to be one of those nights. He halted by the patio door though when he heard his sister and John B start talking.

“Would it be that bad to pair Rafe and Y/N up for the wedding? I highly doubt Wheezie wants to walk with him. At least Y/N won’t whine about it.” She asked as she placed a hand on his arm, the wedding planner nowhere in sight.

Rafe leaned against the wall, biting his lip as he waited for John B’s answer. If Rafe was being honest, he was kind of surprised that his sister would even consider asking John B that since she could care less about what Rafe wanted.

“Sarah, I love you but you did not see her that day or the day after or the following month and a half after that. Do you know how hard it was seeing Y/N like that? Heartbroken. Not wanting to get out of bed. Thinking she did the wrong thing and that caused him to go over the edge. Do you know how many times JJ, Pope, Kie and I caught her reading the obituaries to make sure Rafe’s name wasn’t in there?” John B looked at his fiancée. “I’m not pairing them up together without her permission. That’s that.”

“Then ask her.”

"What?" 

"Ask Y/N if she wants to walk with Rafe?" Sarah saw the 'are you kidding' look in John B's eyes. "I'm serious John B. Rafe's changed a lot and, despite what you think, you cannot keep her from talking or seeing my brother all your life."

"I can try." The curly-haired boy stated, crossing his arms.

"You know what, JB? You are acting like a damn child. It is not going to break Y/N/N if you ask her one small question that contains the name Rafe, okay? I'm sure she can hear his name and not break down or something. It's been long enough. Let him have that 5 minutes he needs to talk to her cause, yeah I do not doubt that Y/N took their breakup hard, but what about Rafe? Hmm? Believe it or not John B, but my brother has fucking feelings too, okay. He probably took that break up just as hard and Wheezie and I witnessed it. So stop acting like even whispering Rafe's name will break her and just fucking ask her if she wants to walk with Rafe or Pope."

"Fine. If it makes you and Rafe happy, I'll ask her." John B huffed.

Rafe didn't stay to hear the rest, just turned around and walked back to his room, the whiskey bottle long forgotten. 

****

Fall had come quickly and the wedding date came even faster. It was like Rafe blinked and then he was on the ferry two days before the wedding, sitting next to you, very awkwardly might I add, his leg bouncing up and down as he played with his fingers. It was like he didn't know what to do with his hands. After all these years, the most natural thing to do with one of his hands was still to place it on your thigh and the amount of willpower it took to not do that exact thing was unbelievable.

Rafe had told his dad that he was going to rent his own car because eight hours in a car with his family was a hard no for him. 

So there he was, walking over to the car he rented and opening the door before stopping and watching you get in a car with Pope, Kie, and JJ.

You glanced up just before you got in, making eye contact with him. You gave him a small smile to make it a little less awkward and Rafe returned the smile before hopping into the car. He watched you guys pull away and pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh before putting the key into the ignition and starting the car. 

This was going to be the longest three days of his life.

***

He was happy for the long-ass drive of day one considering once everyone got to the hotel, there was a silent, collective decision to all just turn in for the night. 

Day two was a little less chill. After being awoken by a panicked banging on the door of his hotel room, Rafe got out of bed as quickly as he could and opened the door, only to be greeted by Sarah who roughly pushed past him into his room.

“Yeah. Come on in. Good morning to you too.” He deadpanned before shutting the door.

“What the hell am I doing, Rafe?” She asked out of the blue, causing a look of confusion to settle on his face.

“I don’t know. You tell me.” He stated.

He watched as Sarah sat on his bed and ran her hands through her hair, letting out a breath. “Is this too soon? Am I getting married too young? Like, I’m 21, Rafe. I should be out getting blackout drunk and having hookups and having regrets but instead, I’m doing the exact opposite.” She rambled.

“Okay. I see what’s happening now.” Rafe walked over and sat down next to Sarah. “Sarah, trust me when I say that marrying John B will not hurt any of that. I guarantee that you and John B will get blackout drunk together and call someone for a ride. I guarantee you will be having hookups, it’s just that all of them will be with John B. And you will have regrets. What those regrets are, I have no fucking clue but life is full of them. Trust me, I have a lot of regrets and I’m only 24.” Rafe told her. “But, I don’t think marrying John B is going to be one of your regrets. Canceling this wedding would be. After all, the venue does say no refunds.”

Sarah snorted slightly and Rafe bumped his shoulder against hers. “Believe me, Sarah, if anyone is ready to get married at this age, it’s you. You came down with a damn binder filled to the brim when you were like seven and placed it in front of me and dad on the coffee table and told dad to start making connections with everyone in that binder, right down to the dress designer.”

Sarah smiled before turning and wrapping her arms around Rafe. “Who would’ve thought you could give a pep talk. And liked John B.” She said.

Rafe slowly wrapped his arms around his younger sister. “Apparently you because you came to me. However, this does not mean I like John B. I am not going to start canceling shit just to have some one-on-one time with that curly-haired surfer dude. Okay? I simply tolerate him because he somehow makes you happy.”

After breakfast and lunch that he spent with Wheezie, last-minute plans when he walked to your room to ask you to lunch only to knock and have you answer the door which caused him to quickly abandon that plan and say “Whoops sorry. Room 202 for Wheeze,”, the rehearsal dinner came quickly. 

In all honesty, Rafe wasn't really paying attention to the dinner at all. How could he when you were right there, quite literally within his reach, laughing and smiling?

The actual wedding day itself was stressful leading up to the ceremony but after everyone got where they needed to be, it was smooth sailing. Rafe and Wheezie walked out after Kie and JJ. 

Rafe watched you walk down with Pope and couldn't help the pang of jealousy he felt in his chest. He also couldn't help but imagine himself as the groom and you in a white dress, walking down the aisle towards him.

He quickly shook the thought from his head though, watching you take your place next to Wheezie before turning your attention towards the door to watch his dad and sister walkout. 

You glanced over at Rafe and smiled slightly when you saw him bring a hand up to his cheek, wiping away a tear. You turned your attention to John B before Rafe could look over and catch you staring.

You saw John B wipe his hands on his trousers as subtly as he could. You caught JJ's eyes and he shook his head, mouthing 'fucking whipped' to you.

You nodded and moved your eyes between Sarah and John B before settling them back on JJ. 'Obviously' you mouthed back before the pair of you stopped before someone caught you.

In all honesty, Sarah did and she saw Rafe catch the interaction as well, noticing him swallow hard.

The ceremony went smoothly with no objections -Rafe fought back the urge to object just to mess with everyone but he knew his entire family wouldn't appreciate the humor- and after pictures, everyone moved inside for the reception as the sun began to set.

Dinner and drinks were served, toasts were made -JJ had made sure to include a few of John B's stupid and most embarrassing moments, much to Rafe's pleasure-, and then the dancing began. 

Sarah and Ward had their father/daughter dance and then John B and Sarah had their first dance before everyone else was encouraged to join them on the dance floor.

Wheezie walked over to Rafe and Rafe looked at her. "I am not nearly drunk enough to get out on that floor and dance with you Wheezie."

Wheezie just rolled her eyes. "You have a shot right now to go ask Y/N to dance and no one will even notice you. Take it." Rafe ignored her. "Oh, okay. So you can sit there and stare but you don't have the balls to walk up to her and say 'wanna dance'?"

Rafe glared at his half-sister. "Watch your mouth, Wheezie."

Wheezie took one last glance at the dance floor and shrugged. "That's fine. Looks like someone else did."

Rafe had never scanned a crowd faster than he did right there and sure enough, there you were, a cousin of his with his hands on your waist and yours on his shoulders, moving slowly around the dance floor.

"I'm going out for a smoke," Rafe muttered before getting up and making his way out of the building. 

He stood outside and brought out his pack of cigarettes, along with his lighter, and opened up the little carton. He withdrew a cigarette before closing the pack and shoving it back into his pocket, placing the cigarette between his lips. He heard the song from inside end before another one started back up as he flicked the spark wheel a couple of times, his thumb landing on the fork before a flame appeared.

He cupped his hand in front of the flame and brought the flame to the cigarette that rested between his lips, making a mental note to buy a new lighter since his was running out of juice.

Rafe heard the door open and close as he shoved the lighter back into his pocket and inhaled. He blew out the smoke before looking over to see who had joined him and was a little surprised to see you.

Of course, Rafe knew at some point you'd duck out of the party for some fresh air considering in social situations where they were tons of people, you needed to get away for a bit and recharge your social battery. He just didn't expect you to do that so soon.

You both stared out in front of you, not saying anything and Rafe brought the cigarette to his lips again, taking another drag.

"It's beautiful out here." You breathed out, trying to start some conversation.

Rafe nodded as he exhaled. "Yeah, it is."

"I wouldn't mind getting married here." You added absent-mindedly.

If Rafe had a drink right now, he would've choked at your words. He nodded nonetheless. "Yeah. It's a pretty nice place to get married."

You looked over at Rafe. "You gonna be okay over there, big guy?"

Rafe turned his head to look at you, confusion written all over his face. "What are you talking about?"

"I saw you wipe a tear away, bub." Rafe's heart sped up at the nickname that you used to use on him. "When Sarah was walking down the aisle. You gonna be okay or should the same reaction be expected at Wheezie's wedding too?" You smiled as Rafe groaned, tilting his head to look at the almost pitch-black sky.

"Don't even mention Wheezie getting married. To me, she's still that annoying thirteen-year-old that was always eavesdropping and snooping through shit." 

"Awe, Rafe. You got a soft spot for your sisters now. That’s so sweet." You cooed, knowing that when he was 19, the only thing he did was complain about the two Cameron girls. "Seriously though, I think it's sweet that you walked with Wheezie and that you shed a tear today." You told him.

Rafe couldn't stop the words that tumbled out of his mouth. "I wanted to walk with you but you told John B you'd rather walk with Pope."

Way to go, dumbass, he thought to himself.

"What are you talking about?" It was your turn to look confused.

Rafe sighed, taking another drag from his cigarette and letting the smoke pour past his lips as he spoke. "I offered to walk with you and John B said no. I overheard him and Sarah talking a bit later and Sarah told him that it wouldn't hurt to ask if you wanted to walk with me or not. And I think you know the rest."

He might as well fess up about it since his mouth and brain already decided to rat him out anyway.

You shook your head. "I don't know the rest because John B never asked me who I wanted to walk with nor did he ask if I wanted to walk with you."

Rafe looked over at you, his eyes locked on yours. He knew when you were lying and this was not one of those times.

He chuckled before shaking his head. "God. He's such a dick."

You ignored his comment about one of your best friends and walked closer to him. "You seriously wanted to walk with me?"

Rafe nodded, looking down at the ground. He was in way over his head, admitting that after half a decade he was still thinking about you and wanting to be with you. Even if it was for like a 20-second walk down an aisle.

You felt a blush grow on your cheeks as you looked down at your hands, playing with your fingers.

A beat passed before you spoke, keeping your head down. "If it makes you feel better… I would've said yes."

Rafe looked at you. "Yeah?"

You nodded and he took another drag from his cigarette.

"Can we start over?" He asked.

"What?" Your Y/E/C eyes lifted from the ground to meet his blue ones.

"Can we start over?"

You bit your lip. "Yeah. Sure."

Rafe cleared his throat before placing a small smile on his face and giving a little bow. "Hello. I'm Rafe."

You breathed out a laugh before giving Rafe a slight curtsy. "Hello, Rafe. I'm Y/N. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Rafe shook his head. "Oh no. The pleasure is all mine."

Your heads both turned to the building when the song changed once again to a slower song and Rafe took Wheezie's advice on seizing an opportunity. 

"You still like this song?" You nodded once more and Rafe put out his cigarette before extending his hand to you. "Would you like to dance?"

You smiled and took his hand. "Of course."

He placed his hands on your waist and yours looped around his neck, him starting to sway you two slightly.

"You look amazing by the way." Rafe complimented, taking in the lavender color of your bridesmaid dress.

"Thank you. You look rather dashing yourself." You took your hands from his neck and straightened his tie before returning them to where they previously were.

You moved closer to Rafe, resting your head on his chest as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Rafe?" You mumbled towards the end of the song.

"Mhm?"

"I missed you." You admitted.

Rafe smiled before placing a kiss at the top of your head. "I missed you too, Y/N/N."

"Rafe?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you maybe wanna ride back to the ferry together? 8 hours is a long trip.  Especially when you're alone and I have to deal with JJ, Pope, and Kie." 

You heard Rafe’s heart speed up a bit before it calmed back down as he took a deep breath. 

"I would love that."

~~~~~~~

[milk-addicc]

I really liked that post you made about how Capcom feels about Narumitsu. And I'm wondering how do you think they feel about Narumayo? Personally to me it feels like they throw more hints at Narumitsu since with the other one if Takami wanted it to be canon he would of done it at the end of T&T. I also think the team could of made it more obvious in SoJ with Maya's big return but I never really saw the hints but I know I'm biased lol.

oh i’m glad you like my rambles haha;;

ahh... that ship, 

well first, about the whole Takumi “wanting narumitsu to be canon” thing, its not exactly making them canon but have more fanservice leaning heavy towards narumitsu (which was declined by the director(?) who claimed, i sorta agree with, that the game did well even without the narumitsu hinting since in the first game they didn’t have that intention and it was pure coincidence that their relationship was just THAT deep and meaningful which is incredible lmao, Takumi and co managed to slip his warning and still put at least some of the hints in TT tho hhh-). so even then, i doubt the crew actually want the endgame to come so soon hh.

okay, back on topic. what i think about naru//mayo? yea, i’m not keen on that ship personally at all, actually i despise it. like, they first met in the office, in front of their dead loved one, Mia. Maya was 17, Phoenix was 24. you have Maya, who’s supposedly still in HIGH SCHOOL and Phoenix, who has GRADUATED COLLEGE, has a JOB, and most likely has PAID HIS OWN BILLS. from that point alone, it should already feel weird. 

Maya’s an adolescence, a teenager, she just lost her sister and barely grew up, in a way she’s still innocent, notice how she tend to ask random questions and or say things that she thinks makes sense or amusing, she tends to be naive too. its kinda like.. a child.

and Phoenix on the other hand, is a grown man. heck even Maya says he’s an “old fart”, they’re legit aware of their own age gap in game and outright say it. if anything, they both act like self-aware best friends/brother-sister than romantically. even Maya said it herself, she wants to be a good big sister for Pearl and Nick.

now how about we ignore this obvious fact just for a little while and try to see it from only their interactions in-franchise. heres the kicker, you may not see it in game since they only lightly nudges about this ship (usually with Pearl, and was dismissed by Maya right after.), but in some of AA spin off mangas (and from what i heard, one of the stage shows), for some reason, this ship has their own hints despite being completely aware that Maya is a teenager.

but its okay now don’t hold your breaths, 

their “hints” are more of a one-off ish thing, most of the time a gag and not taken seriously, and unlike other ship per say narumitsu, where it actually affects their lives and changed it forever IN-GAME. “i care about Maya and understands her” and “i became an attorney because of you, Edgeworth and i don’t have any regrets” are both literally incomparable, especially given Phoenix and Edgeworth’s history together in-game canon.

anyway, here’s some common arguments i’ve encountered about this particular ship :

“but Phoenix cares about Maya a lot! he literally went through a trial against a hitman and run through a burning bridge for her!”

“Phoenix blushed and goes red when Pearl says he’s Maya’s special someone and he stutters!”

“Well my parents had a huge age gap!"

“well, Maya is 18 in AA2″

“considering Maya is a christmas cake now, Nick better tap that” 

“she’s an adult in AA6 tho”

now lets dissect each of these,

yes, Phoenix cares about Maya a lot he literally did cross a burning bridge for her but people seem to forget that this is the same man who turned his life around, abandon his dreams, study law for four years, and became an attorney to meet one man and willing to defend a girl who looks like his psychotic ex that nearly poisoned him in court. he literally would believe in his clients’s innocence no matter what, he’s by nature would sacrifice anything and even his life for someone. so its normal that he cares about Maya, but is it romantic? i doubt it, he cares about her safety and well being but does it have to be a romantic hint? no, of course not, he’s just very selfless for the people he cares about and Maya has no one to help her but Nick when she’s in trouble, he’s one of few adults she can trust and will help her out.

oh so blushing and stuttering due to embarrassment means having feelings now? and about the stuttering, he literally stutters around Edgeworth a lot lol. i’m starting to feel like people ships naru//mayo not because of their depth but because Pearl said so. Pearl finds them should be together and keep shoving the audience with Nick being “Mystic Maya’s special someone”, well if thats the case, they also explained why this happened, in-game. Pearl grew up very sheltered and among unhealthy marriages she just assumes a girl and a boy together means they’re dating and being “special someones”. she most likely just wants her cousin to be in a happy relationship unlike her parents where her father left both her and her mother but didn’t know any better because she was eight years old.

https://youtu.be/FGAqQkMEKNs?start=674&end=776

now about the parent thing and taking it personal, well my parents too had a huge age-gap of 7 years. but how come is it okay? its because they met when my mum was already a career woman at 26. she’s already an adult when my dad met her. what does this mean? it means my parents were both adults when they’re together, this is why i still like GumMaggey despite their age gap so wide, they first met when Maggey has already had a career, supposedly in her 20′s, she’s a young adult, she can buy alcohol by herself, already knows whats right and wrong and has live life independently, not a still hormonal teenager who depends on one adult figure. did your parents date when your mum is in highschool while your dad is like in his mid 20′s? sorry to hear that.

as for the last three arguments, i don’t even want to touch any of them with a five-foot pole. are you listening to yourself? do you not feel like you’re a creep typing that?

let me give you a benefit of the doubt. yes she’s older and legally an adult, but are you really discrediting the fact they met when Maya was still in highschool? they met and became friends when she’s 17 and he’s 24. sure they barely met during disbarment era, but should that change anything? why should it? how should it? like this?

“Oh this is Maya, i haven’t met her in years but boy she sure has grown up can’t wait to date her since she’s legal now.”

because thats what that argument sounds like, YIKES. 

you know? if they met under a different circumstance and Maya was like 19, i’d let it go. but they didn’t, they met because of a horrible loss, Maya, still in training, 17 lost her big sister and Phoenix, a rookie, at 24 lost his mentor. 

in conclusion, i don’t like naru//mayo at all

pairing them feels like pairing Edgeworth with Kay or Phoenix with Ema, just because they partnered in investigations, make playful jabs at each other, and saved each others’s lives before, people just think they like each other romantically despite their age-gap in first meetings (not to mention Kay sees Edgeworth as somewhat of a father figure, and she’s nearly 18 while Edgeworth is the same age as Phoenix). especially with how Maya, being a zoomer, calls Phoenix an “old fart” and just makes jokes about how so out-of-touch Phoenix is with the modern entertainment.

from observations, i have a huge hunch that almost all of them pair these two because :

1. Maya’s a girl protagonist so its a male protagonist x female protagonist type of deal and despise narumitsu because “yaoi”

2. AA6 she’s an adult so she’s legal which is damn creepy on its own, or last

3. because of Pearl shipping them in game despite being an eight year old and was so sheltered she thought a man and a woman being next to each other means they’re special someones.

either way, i only see them as best friends, sibling-like relationship with self awareness here and there since they tease the audience a lot with their gag “hints” in spin-off mangas and game. 

not only that, it kinda showcase how all male/female bond don’t have to be romantic, they can be just friends or familial and still hang together. another plus for the franchise right after encouraging moving on from ex partners. *glancing at Phoenix//Iris*

and as to the people who pairs this for some odd reasons, sometimes i just want to ask these questions,

“how would you feel if you’re in Phoenix’s shoes? met your mentor’s little sister at age 17 while you’re 24, would you feel romantically interested in this high schooler?” because i don’t, to me anyone 3 years younger than me is like a baby, how would Phoenix feel when Maya’s 7 years younger?

“also... why even? narumitsu and other less questionable pairings are RIGHT THERE in the open!”

but oh well people can like and pair whatever hhh, 

and there you have it, my even longer rambling hahaha sorry;;

Edit : To add the final nail to the coffin, Phoenix outright has said that Maya’s like his kid, like a niece.

Edit 2 : remember that this is simply my personal take, you can somewhat use this to make yourself feel better about your pair nor simply just to hate on the ship itself but do not use this to dictate actual people what to ship and not to ship. 

please don’t be destructive towards others.