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in-tua-deep · 4 years

Note

I would like to see Hargreaves family time please :3

HMMMM have a bonding scene ;3c

it is unedited though bc i never got around to it lmao

...

The thing they don’t tell you about recovering after escaping from terrible experiences, is that there are some things that you miss about them. You can be glad that you escaped while still mourning what you left behind, even if as far as you are concerned there shouldn’t be anything to mourn in the first place.

Five hated the apocalypse with something heavy and terrible that settled deep in his gut and that tended to be vomited out at the most inopportune times. Or perhaps it wasn’t hate at all, but fear that he experienced. Not that he would ever admit it, mind you.

But there were just some things that just - well. Five had spent over forty years in the apocalypse, sifting through rubble and ruin and scratching out equations on walls that were too broken to offer even the memory of the comfort and safety they’d once upheld. He’d spent forty years clinging to life by his fingernails and re-reading a book that was the only thing he had of his siblings outside of the grave sites he refused to visit,

He didn’t want to go back there. His entire life’s work was getting out of that hellscape and making it so that it never existed in the first place. Five hated and feared the apocalypse, but oh there were some days that he missed it with such a terrible fierceness it rather took his breath away.

He missed it on the days when nothing seemed to go right, when every word that came out of his mouth was wrong. When people looked at him with tightness around their eyes and pinched lips, and his siblings looked at him with pity in their eyes. Poor little Number Five, who couldn’t even accomplish the simplest of social interactions without inevitably fucking it up. Poor little Number Five, who forgot that people weren’t supposed to write on walls or hoard food in their rooms or freak out when someone burned food in a kitchen.

Adapting to a normal life was a challenge that Five hadn’t ever thought about - because what about his life had ever been normal? He was a child soldier, and then an apocalypse survivor, and then a temporal assassin and then - he wasn’t quite certain what he was now. Was he a child, or an adult? What was he supposed to do with himself now?

He missed that sense of purpose in the apocalypse. He missed Dolores. His one companion for so many years. He’d actually known her for longer than he’d known his own family, and wasn’t that an odd thought?

He missed the spot he’d holed up in before an earthquake had ruined it almost ten years before the Commission had found him. It wasn’t much, but he’d found a handful of records that had miraculously survived and an old record player that had even more miraculously done so.

He’d admitted to Dolores that he didn’t really know how to dance, not beyond the general flailing and swaying his siblings had used to drag him into when Luther played something from his budding collection.

(Five hadn’t had the heart to go rooting through the remains of the Umbrella Academy for things that could be salvaged, but he wondered about it often. He wondered if he’d find a whole entire collection of records, of if Luther would have lost interest and gotten rid of them all. He wondered if Allison still read through all the trashy magazines she could get her hands on as an adult, if she still tried to balance books on her head and walk regally through the house just because she’d read it once in a princess book or if she’d grown out of that.

He was back now, and perfectly capable of asking, but he didn’t. He looked at his siblings and saw strangers and missed his childhood even with the shadow of Reginald looming over them all. He loved his siblings as they were now, but oh he ached with the knowledge that the siblings he had known, the ones he had tried so hard to get back to, were lost to time. As good as dead. But then again, perhaps so was he.

He wasn’t the child who left on that fateful November day. He would never be him again.)

He missed Dolores teaching him to dance under the pale moon. Or well, not perhaps dancing so much as gently swaying together with his arms around her, cheek pressed against hers, as he closed his eyes and pretended for a moment that he hadn’t met her in the apocalypse at all. That they’d just bumped into one another in the street and gone on dates where he made her laugh and where he stressed about what to wear - a million inconsequential moments that meant nothing and everything at the same time. He’d wished they’d had a life together instead of the slow drawn out death that was the only thing that existed in the apocalypse.

And perhaps, there were other things he didn’t know he would miss until they were already gone and out of reach. Things he didn’t even think about, until he looked up at night and wondered where all the stars had gone.

It was a silly thing to get upset over, to go tearing through the house like a man possessed to figure out what had happened to the stars.

(Or perhaps it wasn’t so silly after all - the almost-apocalypse he had witnessed destroyed the moon. Was it such a reach to wonder about the stars, as well?)

Light pollution was the simple answer. It wasn’t that the stars were no longer there, just that they were drowned out. Only a few pinpricks bright enough to shine through and be picked up by the human eye. There had been no human lights in the apocalypse, with no one to turn them on or off except one lonely man who had a flashlight with scavenged batteries. Not nearly enough to make any difference.

The stars had been so beautiful. On the clear crisp nights, he’d lay next to Dolores on the ground staring up at the brilliant specks of light and tried his darnest to remember the constellations that once upon a time Luther had enthusiastically outlined for his unattentive brother at the height of his space phase.

(“When we get back,” He’d whispered to Dolores ever so softly, in the way he whispered every wish that only seemed appropriate to utter out loud under the night sky, “I’m going to get Luther to tell me them again, and I’ll actually listen this time. I won’t tell him to shut up, or that stars aren’t important. I’ll listen.”

He’d never been very good at listening, even as a child. But outside of a seven day deadline - the apocalypse had taught him patience. It was something the Commission found to be a boon as well - there was nothing more deadly than a very patient predator on the hunt, after all.)

Klaus had told him that the apocalypse was an addiction, and Five had done his best to quit cold turkey.

He’d returned Dolores to her store, mourning what could never be between them. In darker moments, he wondered if she would have ever actually chosen him - in that imaginary world where they met on a crowded street by happenstance. They’d been forced together at the end of the world, and even though he loved her he wondered about things like choice and happiness and shared trauma. Them breaking up was the right thing to do, he knew that, he just hadn’t realized quite how much it would hurt.

So it shouldn’t come as a surprise that Five sought comfort where he could. That he stole a record from Luther’s collection (it had gotten bigger, a passion pursued into adulthood which was one question answered) that he must have played dozens of times on that record player in their little sanctuary at the end of the world. That he slept on the floor instead of the bed that was far too soft in so many ways.

That he crept up to the roof and lay on his back and stared at the stars that were visible, remembering a sky filled with diamonds and a cool hand in his own and whispered hopes and dreams and secrets from one terribly lonely boy to the uncaring infinity of the cosmos.

And maybe it shouldn’t come as a surprise that it wasn’t long until he was discovered up there, gazing at the sky with such careful mourning carved across his face.

(He hated and feared the apocalypse, but he mourned it as well. It had raised him, in the harsh and terrible way that was all the apocalypse knew how to do. He’d been raised by Reginald Hargreeves and forged in bruises and thoughtless brutality, and then delivered into the arms of something else that didn’t care for him either.

He grew into a boy with careless cruelty and harsh criticisms and a love for his siblings that burned hotter and longer than any fire the apocalypse could produce. He grew into a man, or perhaps just something man-shaped, in starvation and desperation and terrible all-consuming loneliness.

Reginald had been fond of telling them, “You will learn through suffering.” It was something trotted out whenever the children were forced to skip meals or run up and down stairs until their insides twisted and they retched on the floor barely held up by burning thighs and weak knees. It was being tossed behind locked doors until they promised their unrelenting obedience to a man who had done nothing to deserve it.

If suffering was a teacher, then surely Five was one of the wisest people alive.)

“What are you doing up here?” Luther asks, too loud in the stillness of the night. Five doesn’t begrudge him it though, it wasn’t every day one was confronted by their teenage shaped brother laying listlessly on the roof at hours when everybody should be tucked away in bed.

“What are you doing up here?” Five parrots back, melancholy mood sharpening the edge of his words into something more pointed than he perhaps meant them to be.

Luther shuffles, looking awkward in his own skin as he so often does. It’s enough to make Five soften, just ever so slightly. After all, Luther isn’t exactly the only member of the house who feels alien in their own body.

Perhaps it’s cruel to take comfort in his brother’s discomfort. But perhaps Five is cruel. It isn’t the worst thing he’s been called in his life.

(No one speaks about the dinner where Five and Diego had been sniping at one another and pushing each other’s buttons where Diego had brought up Five abandoning the family. That had been his exact word - abandoning. Five had frozen and Diego had pressed on, snarling about Five not getting an opinion about Reginald because he’d ditched so early and left the rest of them to Dad’s tender mercies. He’d said far more, but the rest of that dinner was a blur of sound and colors for Five.

Diego had apologized over the incident and then proceeded to not look Five in the eye for the next week. The whole family were so good at picking at one another’s weak spots and hitting them hard and fast. It was practically second nature. They knew which points to leave alone when it came down to it for each other, but not for Five. Not yet.

They didn’t know him anymore. It was a work in progress navigating their respective minefields of trauma in the meantime.)

“I asked you first.” Luther says, childish statement bringing Five out of his own thoughts. At the end of the day, they are brothers.

And perhaps it is that brotherly spirit that prompts Five’s lips to quirk as he offers the equally childish response of: “I asked you second.”

Luther scowls, but he’s fully aware of exactly how stubborn Five could be. That’s Five, built out of spite and pettiness, who never knew how to just lay down and give up. But if he’d been any less himself, they would never be there that night on the roof irritating one another. The thought fills Five up with something that could almost be called fondness.

Luther crosses his arms, and looks away. “I like looking at the stars.” He admits haltingly, and it makes Five sit up from where he was still sprawled on the ground. “I just - on the moon - I don’t know. It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid.” Five cuts in with a fierceness that surprises them both. Five doesn’t look at Luther, just the sky. “There’s not as many stars, here. Not that you can see. It’s supposed to look different, but what’s left is still comforting because the sky is a constant. Because the stars don’t really change, even when the rest of the world does.”

“Yeah.” Luther sounds surprised at Five’s insight. There’s a moment of hesitation before Luther is gently lowering himself down to sit on the roof a few feet away from where Five is. When Five dares to sneak a glance, Luther’s eyes are trained on the sky with an almost wistful look on his face.

“I know I’m not supposed to miss it,” Luther begins, and the thought sounds so much like what Five was just pondering that he can’t help but startle. Thankfully, Luther doesn’t see. “But - it was always my dream, you know? To go up there, into space. I know it was just a rejection now, that Dad didn’t want me around so he wouldn’t have to face his failure.” Luther’s face twisted as he spat out the last word. He’d taken it hard, learning that he was just as insignificant in the grand scheme of their father’s plans as the rest of them.

“But.” Luther continues, his face smoothing out, “It was still four years of my life. I had a routine. It was lonely, but god Five. The weightless feeling? The stars? The sunrises? There’s nothing quite like it.”

There’s a silence between them for a moment that Five decides to break. Because he’s trying, he really is.

“Sometimes,” Five says, so softly that Luther actually shifts closer to hear him, “Sometimes the apocalypse was beautiful. A decade or so in, when the plants just tentatively started realizing it was safe to grow again, and the weeds came back first. Just spots of green and bright yellow dotted through the cracks and crevices.”

(Five had spent many springs of his life wandering through the rubble, leaning down to pick dandelions to admire before he ate them. Even when he was terribly hungry, he’d never eaten all of them - always leaving some to mature and bring more the next year. Picking them up and blowing softly and remembering the first time he’d seen one - on a mission where Ben had quietly and excitedly informed them that they had to blow on it and make a wish. That he’d read about it in a book.

Five had made the same wish for forty some years. He wasn’t sure what he’d wish for now, now that it had come true.)

“And when the skies were clear, at night - the stars were beautiful.” Five admitted, Luther made a sound but Five ignored it to carry on because if he didn’t speak his mind now he might never. “There were so many Lu, way more than we ever saw out our bedroom windows. And on nights where the moon was just a sliver, there were even more. We’d lay out there for hours.”

Luther coughs. Five looks over and isn’t quite sure why there’s a guilty look on his brother’s face. “’We’ would uh, be you and uh, Dolores, right?”

Ah, that would explain it. Luther always got that look when Five brought up Dolores, no doubt thinking about when he’d held her out of a window as leverage to prevent Five from killing someone. Luther hadn’t known then, Five thinks, about exactly how much Dolores meant to him. He’d known she was important, but hadn’t known why. He hadn’t asked.

There’s nothing Five can do but nod though, in response to the question. “Yeah. She likes the stars, she’s always loved things that glitter.” It was why she loved sequins so much, and Five was secure enough to admit that he liked them as well.

There’s an awkward silence between them now, one that Five can’t help but try and break. “I tried to remember the constellations.” He blurts out, grasping at the connection the two of them had shared before it slips between his fingers and results in them quietly going to their rooms and forgetting this conversation ever happened.

He can’t look at Luther, not as he admits this. So he doesn’t, he turns his gaze upwards to the pinpricks of light. “Do you remember, when we were eight and Mom gave you that book of constellations? And you wouldn’t shut up about it for like, a whole month? You kept waking all of us up and dragging us to the roof and you said we had to listen to you because you were Number One?”

Luther surprises Five just a little by laughing, “Yeah! Yeah I do remember that. Diego threatened to throw me off the roof if I ever woke him up in the middle of the night again after the fourth time and I’m pretty sure Klaus learned morse code to complain about me to Ben.”

Five grins, “Nah, don’t flatter yourself. He learned morse code with Ben to gossip at dinner. Your little nighttime shows were just something else he could yell about in front of Dad without anyone the wiser.”

“Of course he did.” Luther just sounds exasperated at their most colorful sibling’s antics, which is a big improvement on how he would have felt about it when they were actually eight. “To be honest, I didn’t think any of you actually listened to what I was saying at the time. I’m surprised you remembered.”

Five shuffles, not exactly wanting to admit he doesn’t remember most of the content but not quite willing to lie to his brother either. “I only remembered bits and pieces. Some names, other shapes. Those three stars that make up that one dude’s belt or something.”

“You didn’t just find some astronomy book?” Luther asks, looking puzzled. He doesn’t look offended at least, that Five didn’t pay that much attention during those lectures so many years ago. To be fair, he’s had plenty of time to come to terms with the idea.

“It felt disloyal.” Five admits after a heartbeat, only half grudgingly. He isn’t exactly the king of heart to hearts, but there is something about Luther that seems to encourage them in him. Even during the stress of the days preceding the apocalypse weighing on him, it had been Luther who Five had told about finding their bodies and who Five had told not to waste his life.

Maybe it was the certain level of kinship between them, both of them trapped in bodies that they did not choose and did not want. Both of them left alone for years on end, having to relearn how to interact with the general populace. Luther was loyal where Five was rebellious, but they had enough common ground between them to be significant.

“Disloyal?” Luther’s tone isn’t quite questionioning, just offering a way for Five to continue his thought where he’d trailed off.

Five’s stomach squirms at the blatant emotion, but it would have to try a lot harder than that to stop him after he’d gotten used to the hollow aching pain of starvation. “I didn’t want to learn the constellations from a book.” He says, and it’s easier to admit to hopes and wishes in the dark with the stars above him. It’s familiar. It’s not Dolores next to him, but Luther isn’t half bad company when he’s by himself. “I wanted to learn them from you, except you weren’t around to ask anymore.”

Now that he’s out of that hellscape, he can half admit to himself that not allowing himself to pick up an astronomy book might have been him giving himself even more incentive to go back and fix things. Not that he needed it but - half of it might have also been a sort of punishment for abandoning his family to whatever fate left them buried in rubble and dead at the end of the world as well. Never let it be said that any of Five’s coping mechanisms were actually healthy.

There’s a silence where Luther mulls that over, before he opens his mouth with a soft expression, “I’m around now.”

It’s an offer and a question rolled into one. It’s not Luther immediately launching into a lecture assuming that’s what Five wants or needs at the moment, it’s him asking, which is an improvement all in itself. If Five was too raw tonight, he would accept that without a question and they could look at the sky in silence together until the dawn came.

The ball is in Five’s court.

“What - what’s the name of the dude with the belt?” Five asks, hesitant and careful and feeling as brittle as the porcelain vases that Reginald decorated the halls with.

Luther’s answering smile is bright and tender enough to hurt.

“His name’s Orion...” Luther explains, and Five closes his eyes and lets Luther’s voice wash over him. When he opens them, it seems like the stars twinkle just a tiny bit brighter than before.

Or that might just be his imagination.

#ask me #yeAH i volunteered to do a luther and five piece bc very few people wants to tag in for luther #look i'm not luther's biggest fan but he has some rights #then again i haven't seen s2 maybe he loses what few rights he has #but i can't help but draw parallels between his and five's experiences #me holding up luther: stinky but still good #tua #the umbrella academy #far tua long #long post #five hargreeves #number five #luther hargreeves #i don't THINK i posted this before but correct me if i'm wrong #should i put this on the masterlist ????? what would i even put it under idk #Anonymous #oneshots

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baguettehead · 3 years

Text

Quarry days

Stan Uris x they/them reader

warnings: some curse words, richie tozer, lil bit of angst, possibly based off of real situations, lil bit of Reddie ;)

Summary: You’ve always had a thing for the brown eyes and mop of curly hair, the voice that made you melt like a Popsicle, but what if you added in scheming friends, darkness, missing gas, and maybe a turtle.

_____________________________________________________

You had known the losers since 6th grade. That was the year your parents decided to make the move from Michigan to Derry, Main. You moved around a lot, and you weren’t even an army brat, your parents just seemed to enjoy hopping from place to place. Your parents owned their own business, all the work was mostly online so it was pretty easy to just up and leave. You were born in Washington state, lived their for a while, then you lived in California for a few years, Colorado for a singular year, Michigan, and now the shithole that is Derry, Maine.

You had no idea why your parents chose Derry, there really wasn’t much here. A few nice shops, a pretty decent arcade, old people with sticks up their butts, and what you thought to be a normal group of neighborhood bullies.

When you moved to Derry you had no one, and at this point you didn’t care enough to try and make friends, you didn’t know if you were staying long. After an tantalizingly long day of being forcefully introduced to classmates and eating lunch alone, in the library, you honestly just wanted a nap.

Leaving the school you were suddenly pushed into the wall next to you, your bag thrown off your shoulder, and coming face to face with the wonderful scent of vodka and utter shit. Must be Bowers. He held you by the shoulder of your shirt with his right hand and with his left he put his forearm on your neck, effectively trapping you to the wall

This was your first encounter with the infamous gang, but you’d heard about them from the few conversations you’d had with kids in classes and passing periods. Let’s just say, he was as disgusting as you’d heard. Has he ever tried a toothbrush before??

“Look at this” he spoke, looking back to his gang of douchbags “Fresh meat” his goons laughed a little while you just rolled your eyes, you’d dealt with your fare share of bullies and asshats that you simply couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore

“look” you said in an exasperated sigh “i don’t have cash, my mom packs my lunch”

“well then” Bowers said “you’ll just have to pay me in another way darling” a disgusting grin overtook his face and his goons began laugh and cheer like they just took a shit on the toilet for the first time

“i’m good” you spoke calmly as you attempted to leave his grasp. Bowers just stared down at you confused for a second before he snapped back into action and held you a little tighter

“it wasn’t a question” he seethed through closed teeth

“and i wasn’t giving a suggestion dipshit”

Henry’s jaw tightened and you could practically see the anger bubbling inside him while his group of misfit toys got real quite

“now listen here you little bit-”

“no you listen asshole” you cut him off “i don’t have time to deal with insecure little boys who didn’t get mommy’s attention as a child and now take it out on all those around him” you spoke quickly faking a pout and slowly worming your way out of his grip “your just some stuck up prick who relishes in the hurt of others because you are so hurt that your deranged little brain finds pleasure making other miserable so that you can fake happiness. News flash, hurting others won’t make you happy, you’ll always be an attention deprived, whiny ass child who probably won’t live past their 30′s, will definitely have a substance abuse issue, and even as a 15 year old attempts to drown his sorrows in vodka and punching kids smaller than him for fun” you finished your little rant, taking in a short breath “now” you continued, marveling at the befuddled looks on all their faces “i have a can of pepper spray in my back pocket and if one of you little rascal looking ass children comes any closer i’ll mace you in the face. Got it”

As soon as you finished you slipped from his grasp and starting running like hell towards your house. You could hear him screaming profanities, and you knew you were now on his hit list, but you really couldn’t find it in yourself to give a shit.

Once you knew you were far enough, you knew he wouldn’t follow you but didn’t want to risk it, you sat on the curb to catch your breath. Almost immediately you saw 4 bikes coming around the corner, the occupants stopping in front of you and throwing their bikes down.

“HOLY FUCKING SHIT THAT WAS INCREDIBLE” the one with coke bottle glasses screamed at you practically screamed at you, you returned a weak smile

“H-h-he’s gonna f-f-fu-fucking kill you” another rushed out

You shrugged your shoulders “ive got a at least a few days” you told them “i wounded his masculinity, gotta build that back up” you muttered

“I can’t believe you did that” the one with the fanny pack stated as he started to pace in front of you “i mean, now bowers and his whole gang are gonna be on your ass” he stopped in front of you and made direct eye contact “your gonna have to watch for him at all times” he deadpanned and you grimaced a little bit

“don’t worry” coke bottle glasses spoke up again “bowers is always on our asses so we can show you the best place to avoid him”

“a-and the hallways to a-a-avoid h-him” the dirty blonde spoke up

you smiled up at them “i’d actually quite like that”

“Then welcome to the losers club y/n” the forth boy spoke up as he held his hand out for you, the one with curly hair and amazing eyes. You had him in two of classes and he always seems to catch your eye. You took his hand and he helped you off the curb before they gave you their unofficial, official, tour of the town.

After that you were practically glued to the four boys, you did everything with them now. And if it wasn’t all of them, you were with at east one practically at all times.

You told them about your moving adventures, even opening up about your constant fear that your parents are gonna pack up and leave forcing you to leave them, and earning Richie’s nickname for you Cali. For some reason Richie couldn’t seem to let go of the fact that you lived in California, asking questions about it whenever there was downtime, and telling you about his dream of living there one day and making it big. You always told him that he could do it, because you truly believed he could.

Soon Bev, Mike, and Ben joined the group, making it 8. You gained your ‘secret’ clubhouse, and Bill, Mike, Stan, and Richie all got their licences.

Now its junior year, you’ve made it almost 5 years in Derry, and you’ve gained the closed friends you’ve ever had

_________________________________________________

“You guys wanna go to the quarry after school?” Richie asked, his mouth half full of turkey sandwich and pretty much yelling over all the noise in the cafeteria. You shuddered and watched as Eddie slapped his shoulder and scolded him for talking with his mouth open, Rich pouting like a child. You loved watching them, a knowing smile on your face.

“sounds like fun” Bev voiced “y/n and i just went swimsuit shopping and they looked killer in their suit” she smirked at you from down the table while you blushed and rolled your eyes

“i mean i’d prefer to see the suit on the floor but whatever your comfortable with” Richie commented

you threw a baby carrot at his face, which he caught in his mouth promoting cheers from the others and for you to dissolve into laughter

“i is s-s-s-supposed to be like n-n-ninety degrees today” Bill added in

“oh fuck that” you groaned as you lent your head on stand shoulder next you and continued munching on your carrots, missing how he smiled down at you

“quarry it is!” Richie exclaimed before everyone else fell back into their conversations

“sooooo” you heard Stan draw out from above you, moving your head to look up at him but leaving it resting on his shoulder “will i get to see this new suit you apparently look amazing in?” he questioned while wiggling his eyebrows in a suggestive way. You simply laughed, shoving his shoulder and telling him to shut up.

You’ve had a crush on Stan since 7th grade. You always thought he was attractive, like REALLY attractive, but after getting to know him and spending time together you knew you were fucked.

Bev has tried convincing you that he likes you back but, something in your brain just can’t accept it. She’s gone on and on about how ‘different’ he acts around you, how hes “not such a stuck up prick, he like, actually kinda nice and soft”, her words exactly. But, that was just the Stan you knew, the one you always saw. Caring, kind, funny, and enjoyable.

Bill drove you and Bev to her house, where your suits where from the last time you slept over like 4 days ago, and then took you both to the quarry. Once you got there you saw all the other cars and heard splashing and screaming.

“Those assholes went without us” Bev cried as she ripped the car door open, bolting for the cliff and immediately jumping off. You and Bill just laughed and sat there for a moment.

“r-ready m’lady?” Bill asked as he left the car and extended a hand for you

laughing, you took his hand “Of course good sir”

Bill was already in his trunks so after the short walk up the hill he plunged into the water , full cannonball, soaking almost everyone except Mike who swam out of the way. You watched from the top, laughing as they splashed each other back and forth. Sometimes it was nice to just watch their antics and relish in the moment.

“you coming sweet cheeks” Richie yelled up to effectively drawing every ones attention you

You blushed at the sudden attention “Whatever Tozier” you yelled back before you began stripping down to your swim suit.

Unbeknownst to you at the top of the cliff, you had some effect on poor Stan down in the water. He sat with his eyes glued to you as you exposed more and more skin. He’s seen you in a swimsuit before, hell he’s even seen you in your panties, but every time it still manages to make his mouth go dry and eyes widen.

“They’ll catch you drooling if you stare too long” Richie quipped with a smirk

“Shut it Tozier” he murmured lowering into the water to hide his blush right as you jumped from the cliff.

The eight of you spent hours in the water. Chicken fights, splash wars, and Richie attempting to dunk you, Bill even found a turtle which he claimed meant good luck. You only got out of the water for a bit to dry off before leaving. You and Bev lie on the rocks to dry off and maybe tan, that was, before Mike carried a bucket of water over and splashed you both with started yet another splash war. You finally got out when the sun started to set. You sat around and talked, told stories, before you had to leave. You were all still pretty wet but you didn’t care.

Stan had offered you a ride earlier and you happily agreed, knowing you’d get some alone time with him and ice cream if you begged hard enough.

You layed back on the rocks, to watch the sunset and see the stars starting to pop out.

“alright were heading out” Richie suddenly said

Mike had already left, taking Ben with him due to their stricter curfews. But Rich was taking Eddie and Bill Bev.

“What, why?” Stan said, narrowing his eyes as if he knew they were plotting something

“j-just tired is all” Bill replied casually before he began walking to his car

“bye” Eddie chimed in

“Bye Edds!” you called back

“wait why can she call you that” Rich argued walking side by side with Eddie

“cause i actually like them” He replied casually with a shrug

Richie just huffed and pouted like a child before Eddie nudged his shoulder and he was all smiley again

“See you at school” Bev called, sending a wink in your direction which you replied to with an eye roll

As they walked towards their cars and began to drive away Stan turned towards you “That was suspicious right?”

“completely” you replied climbing down from the rock you previously lied on

“Okay good, it wasn’t just me” he said with a sigh

You laughed a bit “But when are they not suspicious?”

“You got me there” he said before he leaned back on the rock behind him

You crawled over to sit next to him, laying your head on his shoulder and just admiring the sunset. You both sat like that for a while, surrounded by comfortable silence.

One thing about Derry was that no matter how hot the days were the nights seemed to always be freezing, accompanied by wind. You crossed your arms over yourself in hopes of generating more body heat.

“Are you cold” Stan asked taking notice of your shivering form

“Just a bit” you answered not wanting to ruin the comfortable bubble you’d found yourselves in

“i have a blanket in my car” he started to stand up only for you to groan and cling on to his arm. Laughing, he sat back down and you cuddled into his side.

“you’ll catch a cold babe come on” you blushed at the pet name and melted even further into his side when he started combing through your hair with his fingers. Noticing that you weren’t going to budge he huffed a bit, though, he didn’t want to move either.

“I’ll get you ice cream” he sighed

You bounced up with a goofy grin on your face, pulling his hand towards the car

“Lets not waste time” you started “i’m in critical condition, need creamed ice immediately” you feigned sick with a hand to your forehead and pouty eyes. He only laughed, getting up and heading to the car, his hand never leaving yours as you walked to the car.

“what the fuck” he muttered as you reached the car

Tucked under the windshield wiper of his car was a note that said ‘use protection’, clearly in Richies handwriting, and a roll of condoms

You blushed lightly, giggling a bit. Stan looked to with a puzzled expression on his face “i don’t know” you shrugged trying to prove your innocence.

“I don’t understand half the things he does” you comment as you climb into the passengers seat

“does anyone?” he questions with a laugh

Stan throws the note and condoms into the center console before starting up the car. Your bouncing in your seat, the anticipation of ice cream making you giddy and Stan laughs at that. Well, the car doesn’t start. Stan tried multiple times, clearly getting frustrated

“uh Stan” you try and grab his attention, it works, anytime you talk Stan always has his full attention on you. You point towards the gas meter, which displays empty.

“I literally got fucking gas on the way here what the fuck” he exclaims as he gets out of the car, you follow. You see him stop and stare at the gas tank opening

“what?” you question before reaching the other side of the car and falling silent

Right below the gas tank, on the ground, lays a rubber pipe.

“Did they fucking siphon my gas?!” He yells

You stand there for a moment longer, staring at the gas lined pipe, before you break out into hysterical laughter. The pure kind that comes from the belly and leaves you gasping for air with side cramps

“its not funny” he yells

you try to talk but it just dissolves into more hysterics and soon enough Stan is laughing with you, your laugh is just contagious and your radiant smile that could light up the entire galaxy never fail to make him follow along.

After you both calm down, clutching your bellies, you break the silence

“so, what do we do now?” you look over to Stan who’s sitting next to you on the curb

“i guess i’ll call Rich and have him come pick us up” you nod

He stands up, pulling out his phone and calling Rich. You sort of zone out, guess you were more tired than you thought, but your brought back to earth by Stan yelling into the phone. All you could catch was

“what?! No! Hey no no no” and “Fucking asshole” as he ended the call. You new what was coming but you asked anyways

“so?”

“He said hes not coming” Stan sighed in defeat as he sat next to you and lied his head on your shoulder. Your hand immediately immersed itself in his hair, gently scratching his scalp and brushing through his curls. You sighed wondering how the fuck you were gonna get out of this one.

“what about Mike and Bill?” you questioned

“in on it” he sighed out and you hummed in response. You both sat there for a moment, in comfortable silence, trying to calm Stan down.

“did he say anything els-”

“do you like me?” Stan’s head rose from your shoulder, looking you in the eyes and cutting off your sentence. You felt your mouth go dry, eyes widening, cheeks getting hot and probably bright red.

“i- uh- well” you stuttered out, really having no clue how to answer that question

“I mean” he started, sighing and nervously running a hand through his head of wild curls “not in a …. friends way” he finished slowly, meeting your eyes

He had a blush of his own covering his cheeks and his marvelous brown eyes danced all over your face as if looking for the answer there. You sat there staring at him for what felt like forever, running over your choices. Just as the though of running away and joining the circus came into your mind you felt a surge of confidence and smashed your lips into his.

He tasted like mint, salt, and something you could only describe as Stan.

Your lips moved together perfectly, dancing around each other in the best dance you’d ever preformed. Teeth hitting teeth as the years of desperation and pining were finally put to a rest. His arms snaked around your waist, pulling you into his lap to straddle him, as yours wound around his neck and wove into his hair.

You both pulled away panting. His lips barely leaving yours, still ghosting over them like a precursor for whats to come. You stared into his eyes, you could get lost in those brown orbs so easily, drowning hopelessly in their beauty and dying happily. Stan was the first to break the silence

“yes?” he questioned

you threw your head back and laughed heartily. The sight alone made him melt in your hands and the sound dug his grave. The brilliant smile you flashed him afterwards felt like the afterlife and when you leaned down to capture his lips one again he knew he was in heaven.

“yes” you breathed as you pulled away from him, as difficult as it was

Stan smiled so brightly and let out a little cheer before falling right back into your lips and kissing you more passionately than anyone ever has and you doubt anyone ever will. There you sat, Straddling Stanley Uris in an empty parking and kissing him until you were gasping for breath.

You pulled away from Stan, leaning your forehead on his, pressed into his chest, barely inches away. He leaned up and peppered your face in small kissing causing you to break into giggles.

“I love you y/n y/l/n” he spoke softly into the night air

You stared into his chocolate eyes, in complete euphoria

“I love you too Stanley Uris” you told him with the most confidence you have ever had in a statement.

#it #it cast #stanley uris #it book #it movie #stanley uris x reader #x reader #reader x stanley uris #stan the man #it fic

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hockeyisit · 3 years

Text

You Ate The Baby?!?

Summary: Auston and Amelia tell the twins about the new baby.

Word Count: 2,343

Masterlist

It’s been five weeks since we found out that Amelia is pregnant for the third time. We actually hadn’t told anyone yet that we were pregnant again. It had been our secret but I knew that we were going to have to tell the twins. Amelia’s morning sickness was so bad, worse than it ever was with the twins and we could tell that they were concerned.

Amelia threw the blankets off her as she rushed out of bed to the bathroom. I sleepily sat up before pushing myself off the bed so I could follow her. When I made it to where she was crouched over the toilet I grabbed her hair and pulled it back as best as I could while she threw up. She let out a soft sob as her whole body shook. I rubbed her back trying to provide some type of comfort. She pulled away from the toilet leaning back against the wall.

“Are you okay?” I asked softly.

“Fine. I think I want to go back to bed,” she went to stand up but she appeared to be really dizzy. I stood up quickly and wrapped my arm around her waist to make sure she wouldn't fall.

“Why don’t we brush your teeth first,” I said, helping her over to the sink. She brushed her teeth and then I helped her back into bed.

“Do you need anything?” I asked her as I tucked her in.

“No just go take care of the boys,” she mumbled pushing her face into her pillow.

“Alright but babe we need to tell them you're pregnant,” I said kneeling down so that we could be face to face.

“Right. Make breakfast with them and then come up here we can all talk,” she suggested. I pressed a quick kiss to her cheek before pulling back.

“Alright. Get some rest,” I told her before making my way out of the room and to the twins room. I walked over to Kai’s racecar bed first and kneeled down next to it. When the twins were old enough Amelia and I had let them decide if they wanted to share a room or not. They hadn’t wanted to separate and begged for racecar beds. Kai’s bed always had the baseball sheets while Noah’s had the hockey sheets.

“Kai wake up bud,” I whispered as I rubbed his back. He was laying on his stomach with his hands tucked under his pillow. He shifted slightly but then relaxed.

“C’mon buddy.”

“I’m up Papi,” he mumbled. He reached his arms under his blanket as he rolled onto his back and two seconds later he was pulling Sunshine out from under the blanket. I let out a laugh as I shook my head. Sunshine had slept with Kai every night since we got her.

“I’m going to go make breakfast. Can you wake Noah up in thirty minutes and then come down?,” I asked him. He nodded cuddling Sunshine to his chest.

“Okay Papi.”

I made my way downstairs and started making chocolate chip pancakes and turkey bacon for the boys. Kai liked being woken up at least thirty minutes before breakfast or else he wouldn’t eat anything. Amelia and I had learned that one pretty quickly when he was around three years old. So we always tried to wake him up before we would start cooking. Noah enjoyed his sleep though, he’s always really cranky if he gets woken up before he needs to be awake. Just as I was putting the food onto plates the boys walked down and took a seat at the island counter.

“Morning boys,” I call out to them as I set a plate in front of them.

“Morning Papi,” Kai said.

“Where’s Mama?” Noah asked as he picked up his fork.

“She’s sleeping. Were going to go up and talk to her when we’re done eating arlight?” I asked them before taking a bite out of my own pancake.

The boys had been really concerned about how Amelia hadn’t been feeling good. We had to reassure them many times that she wasn't actually sick but we had yet to tell them exactly what was making their Mama sick.

“Can we go eat with Mama?” Noah asked quietly, causing me to glance up from where I was cutting some strawberries up for Amelia.

“Yeah sure bud. I just gotta finish making her breakfast first,” I told them as I moved the strawberries in the bowl on top of yogurt. She hadn’t been able to keep many things down lately but she was always constantly craving strawberries.

Once I was finished getting Amelia’s meal I turned back to the boys at the counter and clapped my hands together lightly.

“Alright you guys want to go up?” I asked. They both looked up and nodded eagerly. I helped them both down from their chairs and then handed them their plates. I then grabbed Amelia’s and mine before ussering them to the stairs.

“Be careful,” I warned them as I followed after them up the stairs.

“Papi we are always careful,” Kai reminded me as he led us up the stairs. Noah let out a snort as he nodded his head.

“Yeah Papi,” he said agreeing with his brother, causing me to shake my head with a smile. When we walked into the master bedroom we found Amelia curled up on the bed with Felix laying next to her. His head popped up when we walked into the room and he let out a little yip at the sight of us.

Amelia rolled onto her side so that she was facing the door when she heard us come in. She sent us a soft smile as she slowly pushed herself up. For a moment it looked like she was about to throw up again but she took a deep breath and then relaxed.

“Hi boys,” she smiled waving us over. Kai and Noah immediately took off towards the bed and settled themselves into her side while they made sure not to spill their food.

“Mama, Papi said we could eat in here with you,” Kai said as he reached for his plate to grab a piece of bacon.

“Oh did he?” she asked as she reached out to tickle Kai’s stomach. He giggled as he tried to squirm away. I smiled at the sight as I walked closer to the bed.

“I have your food right here,” I told her as I set her plate down on her lap. She sent me a grateful smile as she turned to face Noah.

“Your quiet baby,” she said, reaching out to run her hand through his hair.

“Are you sick like Rebecca’s mom?” Noah asked after a moment of silence. I felt my heart break at his scared face and the sadness in his voice.

“Oh no baby. I’m not sick,” Amelia shushed him as she wrapped him up in a hug. I took a seat at the end of the bed so that I was facing the three of them. Amelia and I shared a look as she pulled away from Noah.

“But you throw up like her,” Noah mumbled as he played with his bacon on his plate. I reached out taking his plate off his lap so he would stop.

“Bud, Rebecca’s mom has cancer. Remember when we talked about that the other day. How she got sick and she has to take medicine to get better but the medicine makes her more sick,” I paused as I waited for him to nod.

“Well Mama is only throwing up for a little bit because,” I paused not knowing how to word it. Amelia seemed to notice that I was struggling to find the words and she jumped in.

“What Papi is trying to say is that I am going to have another baby,” she wrapped her arm around Kai pulling him closer so that she was talking to both of them.

“Which means that you two are going to be big brothers,” she continued. A confused look crossed both of their faces as they took in her words.

“Another baby? Why?” Noah asked. I glanced over to see how Kai was reacting but he was just eating his bacon causing a small grin to take over my face.

“Well your Papi and I love each other and we love you guys and we wanted to make our family bigger so we are going to do that,” she answered. She glanced up at me with wide eyes. We probably should have planned what we were going to say.

“Oh. Well when do we go get the baby?” he asked, causing the two of us to laugh lightly.

“The baby is in here,” Amelia said as she pointed to her stomach. This caused Kai to glance up from his food with a slightly shocked expression.

“Oh my god did you eat the baby?” he asked, reaching out to place his hand on her stomach causing the both of us to laugh loudly.

“No! It’s growing in here just like you guys did,” she answered.

“Alright why don’t we let Mama eat. We can ask questions later,” I told them as I handed Noah his plate back. The twins both nodded as they started shoving food back into their mouth. Amelia sent me a soft smile as she reached for her spoon and started eating.

I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket and I pulled it out to see that I was getting a phone call from my mom.

“Hey my mom is calling,” I pushed myself up from the bed. I walked out of the room and answered the phone as I made my way down the stairs.

“Hey mom,” I smiled as I answered the phone. I tried to talk to my mom everyday but I hadn’t been able to call her in the last two days because of how busy I had been taking care of the boys and Amelia.

“Papi! Long time no talk,” she answered through the phone. I ran a hand through my hair as I made my way into the messy kitchen.

“Yeah sorry. I’ve been pretty busy taking care of the twin’s,” I said as I started loading dishes into the dishwasher.

“Oh how are my grandbabies?” she questioned, happy to be talking about them.

“Pretty good. They’ve been pretty worried about Amelia but we finally told them so I think they'll be fine,” I told her absent mindedly as I rinsed the bowl I had used to mix the pancake mix.

“Told them what?” she asked.

“Shit,” I mumbled under my breath forgetting that we hadn't told her the news.

“Uh sorry, I don’t think I’m supposed to say anything yet so you can’t say anything to anyone. Not dad or the girls,” I warned her.

“I won’t now spill,” she answered quickly.

“Amelia is pregnant.”

“Oh my gosh! How far is she?” she asked excitedly. I smiled as I thought about when we found out.

“Well we found out five weeks ago and went to the doctor and they think seven weeks,” I told her as I turned the water off. I leaned against the counter as I listened to her talk.

“How’s she been feeling?” she questioned.

“Honestly her morning sickness has been really rough.”

I had honestly been starting to get a bit worried about how aggressive her morning sickness had been. It had been going on since we found out and wasn’t getting any lighter. When she was pregnant with the twins it had never been this bad and that was twins. I had no idea why it was so aggressive. I wanted her to talk to Dr. Montgomery about it but she was convinced it was fine.

“Have you talked to the doctor about it?”

“No. Amelia doesn't want to but I told her that if it didnt get better by the next appointment I would bring it up. She wasn’t happy about it but she agreed,” I answered.

“Smart Papi.”

We talked for a little while longer before ending the call. I finished cleaning the kitchen up and then made my way back upstairs.

“Where are they?” I asked Amelia as I made my way into the room and over to our bed. She looked up from her phone as she sent me a lazy smile.

“They went to get dressed. I told them they could have a playdate with Charlie. I hope you don’t mind taking them,” she asked, locking her phone and cuddling into my side once I had laid down on the bed. I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her closer.

“I don’t mind but um I may have accidentally told my mom you were pregnant so expect some text from her,” I warned. She glanced up at me with a shocked look before her face relaxed.

“Honestly I expected you to tell her two days after you found out I’m surprised you held out for so long,” she told me, reaching up to pat my cheek. I let out an offended noise as I reached up to grab her hand.

“Aus your literally the textbook definition of the person who says your secret is safe with me and my mom,” she giggled.

“It’s okay though because I love your mom,” she mumbled before leaning up and pressing a kiss to my lips. I smiled against her lips as I tried to deepen the kiss. She laughed as she pulled back.

“No you need to take the twins to Steph’s and Mitchys,” she said as she pushed my face away, causing me to let out a groan.

“You sure you don’t want to come with?” I asked gently. She glanced at me, biting her lip.

“I’m just really tired.”

“Alright then will be back later,” I leaned forward and pressed a kiss on her forehead before climbing out of bed to get dressed and then go help the twins get ready for the day.

A.N: Hey guys here's a piece I’ve been working on for the last few days. I wanted to get this uploaded because I’m going out of town with my family so I’m not sure when I’ll have the chance to sit down and write again. I have a few pieces that are almost finished so I might get a chance but I’m not sure. Also I don’t know if everyone got a chance to watch the game but I did and the hit on JT was so scary and it truly reminded me of how dangerous hockey can be. My thoughts and prayers go to JT and his family. I can’t imagine how hard it had to have been to see him get injured like that through a tv. Playoff hockey has started though and I am super excited to see what’s to come! Also if you want to send in questions for Auston and Amelia I will still be answering those whenever I have a free moment!

#auston matthews #auston matthews imagine #auston matthews fanfic #auston matthews fic #auston matthews x reader #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl writing #nhl x reader #toronto maple leafs imagine #toronto maple leafs fic #toronto maple leafs fanfic

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whydoyouwantmyname · 4 years

Text

Imagine being Sirius’s daughter {Part 3}

Part one

Part two

-Remus never told you that he still believed your father was guilty, his heart was in a state of heartbreak whenever he would look at you, your eyes filled with hope that you could somehow set him free. Remus wanted so desperately to have your blind, bias belief, I mean what little girl wants to believe her dad was a spy for the enemy and was responsible for the death of most of your family, which was the only reason he couldn’t forgive Sirius for his crimes.

-You and the boys wrote each other daily during the winter break.

-On Christmas Remus surprised you with a book by Lockheart, “Everyone says he is very popular amongst the female readers.”

“He also is a fiction writer, I mean there is no way that someone with a face like his could be the smartest ravenclaw there ever was.”

-Remus chuckled at your response, and then surprised you with a trip to Hogwarts, his backpack filled with presents from you both. When you arrived in Dumbledore’s office you immediately wanted to go find Hagrid, to which the two men stated was okay, “We will meet you at his hut shortly.” Dumbledore answered as you raced from the office towards the spiral stairs.

“I know that look Remus, what is on your mind?”

“You promised me he would never get in contact with her while she was here.” His voice was low

“I did, and I have...”

“He has been writing her since she arrived Albus, and now I just had to tell my daughter that he has been writing to her constantly! I had to look my daughter in the eyes and lie to her that I believed her father was innocent. How can I believe a man who betrayed his friends, who murdered them all, almost got his own godson killed, and not once thought about his incredibly smart, talented, humble, compassionate little girl? I wanted to avoid this Albus, but it seemed I can not trust anyone but my daughter.”

“Your daughter?” Albus asked, Remus hadn’t even realized he kept calling you his daughter, normally he would just call you his niece, or by name. His eyes softened towards the headmaster as he hissed, “Well she might as well be.”

-Dumbledore reassured him that Sirius posed no real threat to you or him, “He is locked away in a cell, never to be freed again.”

-When they went to the Hut with McGonnagall, and some of the other professors, when they opened the door, they saw you sitting on the couch opposite the armchair, your coat discarded, revealing your maroon and gold stripped sweater. A mug was in between your hands, whip cream towering over the top of it as you looked at Hagrid, who was telling you a story about Bowtruckles. Your giggles filled the small space as they all filed into the room. That’s when Hagrid turned around and stood, ready to prepare hot chocolate for everyone, as Remus pushed by and sat beside you on the couch.

-The day after Christmas you went to Diagon Alley to try to find a good gift for Fred. You searched high and low, but nothing stood out to you. That was until you saw the window display of the Quality Quidditch Supplies.

“Uncle Mooney, how realistic would it be to hex my bag with the Undetectable Extension Charm?”

-Quite, why?”

“Because I think I found the gift I want to get Fred.” You answered with a smile before opening the shop door.

-One night while Remus was sipping his tea, he looked up at you, curled up at the end of the sofa, reading a book in one of your oversized sweaters, the glow of the fire illuminated your face, as your tea sat beside you, “You know who you look like right now?”

“Your niece?”

“No, you look just like your Aunt Lily. I mean she was a bookworm, intelligent witch, who was somehow involved with the pranksters of Gryffindor.”

“I’m glad.” You smiled, before Remus smiled, a ping of sadness overcoming him as he missed his friends... the only real family he ever had. You could tell he was off suddenly, and looking at him as he sipped his tea again you asked, “Uncle Mooney, tell me about your time at Hogwarts?”

-You both stayed up most of the night, chuckling at the stories he told. By the time you went to bed, the fire was down to just glowing embers, both of your teas cold, but you were happy, and that night you both slept in until noon.

-When the full moon occurred you went to Hagrid’s hut, and spent the day with him walking in the forbidden forest in the snow.

-When you left to go back to Hogwarts, you looked at your uncle on the station, “Uncle Mooney?”

“Yes Love?”

“No more secrets okay, I mean I would hope you trust me enough to tell me anything, cause I certainly trust you.”

-Of course Love.” He smiled before pulling you in for a hug, and handing you a chocolate bar, “For the journey.”

-When you found the booth that the twins and Lee were hiding in your whole face lit up, and you were quick to slip in next to Fred as they all were laughing at the story of how Fred and George turned Percy’s hair pink by adding some of their mom’s herbs to his shampoo, and how it backfired when everyone’s had turned pink.

-Once the train started to move however you smiled, “Okay, so shall we exchange?”

-In a circle you each gave your gifts one by one, Fred got Lee, Lee got George, George had gotten you, and you had gotten Fred. You decided to go in the same order you drew names, meaning Fred went first.

-Fred reached in his bag and pulled out a rectangular box, and handed it over to you, “Here, I hope you like it.”

When you opened it, you noticed the dull blue of the tissue paper, and slowly pulled it back to reveal the knitted yarn, the collar was a pastel purple color, while the rest of the sweater was a minty green, your first initial in the same pastel purple. As you held it up, you couldn’t suppress a smile, “I love it.”

-George got Lee the same present, except his was Gryffindor colors.

-Both boys were estact that you liked their gifts.

-Lee handed George a box, and when he opened it, it was filled to the brim with all different sorts of candy. However when he reached inside he withdrew a gameboy.

“The muggles use it to play video games, I figured it might be an interesting gift, and something your dad would love to learn about.”

-Once it was your turn you smiled towards Fred, “You can’t be mad.”

“How could I ever be mad at you?” He chuckled as you smiled wide, before opening your charmed bag and reaching all the way into it, the boys eyes widening as you exclaimed, “Got it.”

-The package was as neatly wrapped as it could be, the paper was a matte blue, with a green ribbon on top. Using both hands you extended it towards Fred, “I figured if you and Georgie were going to someday be real quidditch players, you might as well have a good broom.”

-When he unwrapped it, he was blown away to see the Comet 260, his hands slightly going over the wood as he admired it. However he stopped for a moment at the handle, “Why did you engrave a G in it?”

“Oh bloody hell, that one was meant for George, give me a second.” You exclaimed reaching back in to pull out another one, this time wrapped in orange paper with a yellow bow, “This one is yours Freddie, I mean I couldn’t get one brother a broom and not the other.”

“You got a present in there for me too?” Lee joked as you reached in and withdrew a box wrapped in green paper, which held a box microphone. “Of course.” However they didn’t see the second small box you withdrew, and as George and Lee admired the Gameboy, you gently tapped Fred on the leg, “Here’s one more gift, and I promise, it isn’t another broom.”

- As he opened it, he noticed it was also charmed with the Undetectable expansion charm. Reaching inside he withdrew a Jersey, which was maroon and gold, and had the snitch embroidered onto it.

“Figured you could be the most official looking player when you match up with your siblings.” You whispered

“You really didn’t have to.” He replied, tears in his eyes as you rested your chin on his shoulder, “No, but what are friends for, we are supposed to support each other’s dreams.”

-After that, you and Fred were always close, Lee used to joke that he liked hanging out with you far more than his own twin brother.

-About a month after arriving, at the feast table Albus leaned over to McGonagall, “10 Galleons says that Fred and [Y/N] are dating by their seventh year?”

“I say it will be by their fifth year.” She replied, before reaching her hand out to shake on it

-You never told the boys you knew who created the map, nor did you tell your father that George and Fred were using it to prank students and staff during the school year.

-Sirius wrote you once a week.

- You were in all the same classes as the boys, and it made it so much easier for you to help them with homework. The boys were pretty bright, however they would sometimes get carried away thinking about who to prank and how. Occasionally you would chime in, but most times you would just chuckle and shake your head.

-Percy always looked at you and asked how you could be friends with people like his younger brothers, to which you always gave a witty response. The responses would always cause Fred and George to laugh.

-One night Lee looked at you, both of the twins were running late to dinner, meaning it was just you and Lee for a while. Knowing that the food would disappear probably before the boys made it to the Great Hall, you made a plate for both boys, and made sure to grab an extra pudding for Fred.

“You never get me an extra pudding?” Lee faked whined as you raised an eyebrow, “Lee, I literally gave you my pudding yesterday.”

-When the boys arrived Fred sat across from you, and smiled, “No way, you snagged me an extra pudding.”

“What are friends for?” You smiled as George looked at his plate, which you had put extra turkey on for him, a smile on his face as he looked at his friends.

“You know something, we should all get together this summer.” George suggested, as you raised an eyebrow, “George it’s only March.”

“Yeah, and school ends soon. Then we have to go 3 months without seeing each other. We could ask our mum, I am sure you all could stay in our room.”

“My parents would probably be okay with that, what about you [Y/N]?”

“I’m sure it would be okay, I can ask him.” You let it slip, as they all looked towards you.

“Don’t you mean them?” George asked

“Um..... no. I ummmm live with my uncle.” You answered, you had never told them you didn’t have a mom, or that your father was in Azkaban on a false charge, or that your uncle who you lived with was a werewolf.”

-The boys went silent, and after several seconds, they began their regular banter.

-The next day you wrote Remus, and asked what he would think about you spending some time with the Weasleys at the burrow. He replied within the week and said it would be fine with him, as long as you never returned on a full moon, or the day after.

-When George and Fred asked their parents, Arthur expressed some concern to Molly in private, “I mean how do we know we can trust her, what if she is just like her father?”

“She is just a little girl Art, besides she has basically lived with Remus her whole life. He would never let her grow up to be a monster. Let’s just give her a chance, besides the boys will be heartbroken if we say Lee can come and not [Y/N].”

- The first time you went to the Burrow, you used Floo powder to get there, your eyes widened as you took in the scenery. Everything about the burrow looked homey, and you were fascinated by the use of magic throughout the home. The needle moving to create a sweater, the sponge moving itself in a circular motion on the dishes, the stove turning itself off as the kettle whistled, the broom sweeping into the dust pan, as the mop followed behind. The dry dishes putting themselves away, as you exited the mantle.

-Molly rounded the corner as you stepped out, her round face dressed with a smile as she extended her arms, “You must be [Y/N], it is so nice to finally meet you my dear.” She quickly advanced towards you as she wrapped you in a hug, “I hope you got here alright.”

“Of course Mrs. Weasley, thank you so much for allowing me to stay for a while in your lovely home.”

“Of course my dear, and no need for formality here, Molly is fine.” She smiled, before calling, “Boys! [Y/N] is here!”

-You couldn’t help but smile as 3 pairs of feet came raising down the stairs, and tackled you onto the couch. The room erupting into a fit of laughter as the boys all dog piled you, and as they stood up (After Molly telling them to), Fred reached out to help you up.

-You slept in the twins room, the boys had made up two cots for you and Lee. Your cot was closer to Fred’s bed. Most nights after the rest of the house had fallen asleep, you and the boys would stay up quietly giggling at future pranks.

-Ron and Ginny loved having you around, whenever they would try to hang out with their two older brothers they would say that they were busy with their friends, yet you would say, “If you want we can do something, who needs these losers anyway to have fun.”

-You always offered to help Molly with the chores, and some nights you even convinced the boys to help.

-One night while you were doing chores with Molly, she leaned over, “I never thanked you by the way.”

“For what?”

“Fred and George were so excited when they got home, they wanted to show us the new brooms they had written us so much about. I know it is just a material object, but most people don’t know that the boys are skilled quidditch players. They just see the jokes, and the pranks, which leads them to get labeled as the general prankster. I can’t tell you how many times the boys have gotten rubber chickens, and whoopie cushions, or little fireworks. You actually showed that you listen to them, and that is all a mother can ask of her children’s friends.”

“No problem Molly, they are wonderful boys.” You smiled, as Ginny raced into the kitchen, “Hey [Y/N], do you think we can have a girls night?”

“Of course.” You smiled.

-You always helped with the twin’s chores, which Molly thought was wonderful.

-You hated weeding the garden though, so you would just lay in the grass and read while the boys labored in the dirt.

-You were only supposed to stay for two weeks, however you ended up staying for a whole month. Lee left after the two weeks though.

-Whenever they would play quidditch in the garden George was insistent on having you on their team, you were an okay player. Whenever you all had some free time between chores, Fred and George would teach you how to play, helping you learn strategies.

-When you went home each of the Weasleys gave you a hug, Molly of course looked at you and smiled, “Now don’t be a stranger, you are welcome anytime.”

“Really, if you don’t mind me asking, may I come stay August 6th?”

“That’s next week?” George replied, his tone questioning as you smiled, it wouldn’t be for too long, just a day or two, my Uncle is going to be out of town for those days. I didn’t want to spend the day alone.”

“Of course Love, whatever you need.” Arthur smiled, his whole attitude towards you altered after your first visit to the burrow.

-After that visit, you spent all the full moons at the Burrow. None of them ever asked why you always stayed on full moons, nor did the professors ask why you stopped coming to Hogwarts.

-Remus hated when you were away, the cabin was so quiet, but he couldn’t stop you. He knew your father was the same way during summer breaks so he could only imagine it was the Black genes in you. You however always came back with a smile plastered on your face, and spent the week telling him all about what you did.

-When you went shopping for your supplies for your second year, Molly and Arthur invited you and Remus to join them, which you eagerly agreed to.

-The plan was to meet at the Burrow, as soon as the twins heard the sound of an Apparition spell, they were out the door. Immediately they had you wrapped in a hug, your arms hanging around both of their necks as they gripped you tightly. Pulling away they then looked at Remus.

“You must be Mister Lupin, pleasure to see you again sir.” They both said at the same time, hands rocketing out for a handshake. He just looked at the pair and replied, “And you must be George,” he pointed to George, “And Fred.” He pointed to Fred before reaching out and shaking both of their hands.

“Blimey, not even our own mum can tell us apart like that.” George joked as you immediately piped up, “Your mum can tell you apart just fine, it is just the two of you that like to switch identities to see if anyone will notice.”

-Next out the door was Ron, his kind of grown out red mop blowing in the wind as he raced over and into your arms, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too kid.”

-Fred and George rolled their eyes at the interaction, both of them had figured out during your first stay that Ron had developed some little crush on you, Remus of course saw the eye rolls and whispered, “Now don’t tell me you never had a crush on one of your brother’s friends when you were his age?”

-while all the kids raced around the yard before going, Remus talked with Arthur and Molly. Of course the awkward subject came up, “So does she know...”

“Yes, she knows exactly what her father did, and as much as I hate it, she believes he was framed. However we don’t discuss the topic of her father unless absolutely necessary. I would hope the same is being done here.”

“Of course Remus.” Molly replied, shooting Arthur a disapproving look, “Our kids don’t know anything about him, and I doubt she has told any of them.”

“I mean Fred and George might know, seeing how close they are.” Athur piped up, but Remus just looked at him, “No they don’t, she would never risk losing your boys. I dare say she would protect them with her life if she had too.”

“Just as her father was supposed to?” The response was automatic, Arthur hadn’t even thought of it when it slipped out, and he immediately regretted it, whispering an apology as Remus shot him a disapproving look, as Molly gave him the look of death. However all Remus replied with was, “She is nothing like her father.”

- The twins and you wanted ventured out on your own as soon as you arrived to Diagon Alley, Remus chuckling as you looked at him quickly, “You can join us if you like.”

“Are you sure darling, I would hate to spoil your fun?” He replied as George laughed

“Nonsense Mr. Lupin, [Y/N] tells us you were quite the prankster when you were our age, we would love to hear more about it. Maybe get some ideas.” Fred smiled, as Remus looked towards the ground, a ping of sadness entering his heart as he chuckled, “Now Fred, I was not the prankster of the group, that title was held by [Y/N]’s father, and her Uncle James.”

-After going to a few shops looking for supplies, the four of you all went to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, and got some ice cream. As you sat at the table Fred and George asked Remus what it was like when he was at Hogwarts. As you licked your cone you couldn’t help but chuckle as Remus’s face lit up, telling Jame’s and Sirius’s prank stories to the twins.

-Their personal favorite was when Sirius and James had discovered a new muggle song, and somehow disguised a boom box in the Great Hall, and turned it to Maximum volume. The entire day the Hall was filled with Don’t Go Breaking my Heart by Thin Lizzy, on a loop. They earned two days of detention with Flich, in which he had them polish all of the trophies in case.

-At one point while you were shopping, Fred picked up a flower on the side of the road, and paid 15 Sickles for it, he then walked up beside you and leaned over, “Figured you might like this.”

“You bought me a Garden Rose, is it bewitched?”

“Course not, can’t a boy just buy his best friend a pretty flower?” He smiled as you cautiously took it from him, and thanked him.

-Remus was watching you both from a distance, and smiled as he thought of his niece falling in love, and was hopeful that it was at least with one of the Weasley boys.

-When it was time to part ways Fred asked Remus, “Sir, do you mind if one day, George and I come over, and stay for a week? We would love to see what your home looks like, and to hear more stories?”

“Unfortunately boys, I don’t think that is possible, however I would be more than happy to come to the burrow whenever you want to tell you more.”

-Remus didn’t know how to explain the scratches that were randomly scattered along the interior and exterior of the cottage.

-When you got home, Remus looked at you with a smile, “I like those two.”

“I knew you would.” You smiled, as you put your bags down, and dropped your garden rose into a vase.

-You sent your father letters all about the Weasley twins, and told him how they looked up to him and Uncle Prongs after Remus shared their stories. You had no idea how much it meant to him that Remus was still talking about him.

-When it was time for you all to go back, Remus stood on the platform with you, “Now don’t let those boys rope you into any pranks that will get you expelled.”

“Course Uncle Mooney.” You replied, before wrapping him into a hug. As you pulled away you saw two tuffs of red hair race over, “Come on [Y/N], Lee’s already on the train saving us a booth.” George whined as they both grabbed your hands and led you away, while shouting, “Good to see you Mr. Lupin.”

-When you started your second year you noticed you were in all the opposite classes as the boys. Your smile dropping as you tried to envision classes without your best friends.

-That first night in the common room the four of you all sat around in the corner, the moonlight pouring into the window as you watched Lee and Fred compet in a game of Wizards Chess, George scribbling down prank ideas. Finally he looked at you, “How do you think we can pull off your father’s prank?”

“What?”

“You know the one where they blasted muggle music throughout the Great Hall?”

“Don’t you think that will be too odvious, I mean the only people who would know about that would be [Y/N], we would be had for sure.” Lee replied, before saying, “Pawn to E6.”

“Besides, I think we can pull off far better pranks then my dad and his friends, I mean you two are the Weasley Twins, greatest pranksters to ever attend Hogwarts.” You smiled as Fred slightly blushed.

-Lee and George both noticed how Fred blushed, and when you went to bed that night both of them looked at him, “Okay, spit it out.”

“Spit out what Lee?” He asked confused.

“Do you have a crush on our very own Miss Black?” George asked, as Fred began to stutter, causing both boys to smile.

“Blimey Fred, why don’t you just tell her then.”

“It’s not that simple Georgie, I mean... what if she doesn’t feel the same, how will that affect the group. We can’t lose her, she is the brains behind a quarter of these pranks.”

-The rest of the term you helped the boys with all of their schoolwork, as normal.

-You were the top of your class, all the professors were proud of your work, even Snape.

-Most nights you and the boys would end up sitting at the table in the corner, or on the love seats that were against one of the farthest walls. Whenever you were on the loveseats, Lee and George would make sure you and Fred were on the same sofa, and whenever you’ll would sit at the table they would arrange the seats so that you were also next to Fred. You didn’t think anything of it, but Fred knew what they were trying to do, and he would always just stare at them with dirty looks when you weren’t looking.

-When they tried out for the Quidditch team, you were sitting in the stands, your scarf and hat on as you watched them prove their skills, your applause Louder than everyone else’s as you cheered them on.

-When George and Fred made the Quidditch team, you were the first person to congratulate them, a huge smile on your face as you leapt into Fred’s arms, as he twirled you around. Then you went to hug George, and looked at them both, “I am so bloody proud of you.”

-Hagrid sat with you at every game, and afterwards you would go to the hut with him and share a cup of tea.

-Remus wrote you often, and told you about the woods, and the lilies. However he wasn’t a fan of how quiet it was, and often found himself playing music throughout the cabin. The records that he had were classics that he had collected over the years, but he always found himself gravitating towards the small collection of records that Lily had given him. They were some of her favorites, and he had given him a few copies of them once they were out of school. The genre of them varied.

-Every once and a while however his fingers would find the section of records that were not his... they belonged to Sirius. He had taken them when he went to the house to collect your things, he wasn’t sure why he had the urge to take them from the house with your stuff, but he didn’t feel right leaving the house without them. He would take the vinyl disk out of the sleeve and spin it between his fingers a few times before placing it on the player, his body slumping into the armchair after putting the needle on. His eyes would shut as he put his fingers to his temple, the familiar melodies filling the space as he remembered the days he would go to Sirius’s flat and he would be blasting the record player. Most times you were resting on his hip, a huge smile on your face as he twirled you around and danced to the beat. Your giggles almost drowned out by the guitars, and drums. As Remus listened to them, tears would normally slid down his cheeks, as he thought to himself, “Why Pads, why did you do it?”

-Before leaving for Christmas break, you did the secret Santa again, this time you drew Lee’s name.

-That Christmas break you went to the cabin, and stayed with Remus the whole time, both of you just enjoying the comfort of being together. He would sometimes find himself chuckling as you sat at the dining room table and wrote letters to the boys, and your father.

-You were laughing when on Christmas Day you found a present under the tree addressed to you from the Weasleys. You opened it to find that you once again had received a Christmas sweater, this time it was purple and blue, there was a note attached that read, “You might as well be part of the family.”

-On the last night you and Remus were sitting in the living room, the fire roaring as you looked toward Remus, “Uncle Mooney?”

“Yes love.”

“Do you ever wonder how Harry is?” This wasn’t the first time you had asked about Harry, but this was the first time in a while. Your head was resting on your knees as he spoke, “I am sure Harry is just fine, I am sure he is sitting at his Aunt Petunia’s right now surrounded by all his presents, and is filled with fmdread that school is going to start back up.”

“I hope so.” You answered with a smile. You had no idea though that Remus was slightly filled with doubt. Every time he would think about Harry, he would remember what James used to tell him about Petunia Evans, and how she was a arrogant, closed minded bitch when it came to anything in her sister’s life.

-When you got on the train you were excited to see the three boys, all of them wearing their Weasley sweaters. George laughing as he looked towards you, “I love that we are all matching, it’s almost like we planned this.”

“Too bad we didn’t.” Fred barked, as you plopped down next to Lee, your back leaning against the wall of the booth as you put your legs over his lap. His arms laying over your legs as you spoke to the twins across from you both.

-Finally after swapping stories of the break Lee smiled, “Time for secret Santa?”

“Course it is, I’ll go first.” George replied, as he reached into his bag and withdrew a small box, thrusting it towards Fred, “Here you go Fred.”

“You got me?” He asked, taking the box in hand, “You told me that you had gotten Lee.”

“What was I supposed to do, tell you that I drew your name out of the hat and that I bought you your present right in front of you. That would ruin the whole tradition.” George replied as you smiled, “He has a point Freddie.”

-When Fred opened the box he was greeted by a whole box full of dungbombs. He chuckled as he carefully removed one and whispered, “Wicked.”

-Next was Lee, who handed a gift towards George, “I can’t top the gift [Y/N] got you last year, but I sure as hell can try.”

-In the box was a Gryffindor colored Hackey Sack which George twirled between his fingers, “What is it?”

“You kick it, when we get to Hogwarts I can show you how to play with it.” Lee smiled as you reached into your bag and withdrew a box, the boys all chuckling at the fact that your bag was still charmed from last Christmas. “Here Lee, just promise me you won’t use it to blow us up.”

“I promise, however are you trying to tell me you bought me a bomb?”

“You’re just gonna have to open it to find out.” You smiled as he tore the paper slightly and revealed that logo of Dr Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks. “No way.” Lee gasped as you smiled.

“Figured we could light it off down by the lake.” You replied as Fred pulled a rectangular, brightly wrapped present out of his bag, the ribbon on top of it still in tact as he placed it on his lap. Your eyes still on Lee, he was taking in the smallest details of your face, and watching how the fluorescent lighting in the booth made your eyes twinkle slightly. After a few minutes though he noticed you had looked towards him, a smile plastered on your face as you asked, “So guess that just leaves you Freddie.”

“Ummm yeah.” He answered, looking down quickly, before sticking his hand out towards you, the present grasped tightly between his fingers as he said, “Looks like I got you again.”

-You carefully unwrapped the paper, and smiled as you revealed the limited edition cover of Fantastic Beast and Where to Find Them. You smiled wide as you looked up, “Fred, I love it.” You smiled as you slowly opened it and looked at the updated drawings.

-You spent the rest of the train ride reading, while the boys groaned about going back to class.

-When you went to get off you were walking beside Fred, and bumped your shoulder into his, “Thank you again, I really do love it.”

“I’m glad.” He smiled

- After a month back at Hogwarts you found yourself sitting in the common room, and heard the portrait open, the room filled with the giggles of the three boys you valued, your eyes raising from your parchmentad you looked at them. “What did you do?”

“We may have just set off a bunch of dungbombs in Snape’s classroom.” George gasped while trying to maintain his composure.

“Oh bloody hell.” You sighed, “he is going to assign your class extra homework now you know?”

“Worth it.” Lee replied as Fred flopped down on the couch next to you, and added, “Besides he will have no clue who did it.”

“You really think he won’t put it together?” You asked, your eyes meeting his as he answered, “Nope.”

-The next day they came in with a groan, and looked at you, “Want to help us with our Potions homework?”

“He figured it out, didn’t he?” You smiled, your eyes never leaving your book as George groaned, “Yup.”

“Told you.” You responded, as the three boys flopped around you.

-You used to sit in your dormitory with the Marauders Map, and study it for hours, watching as the little footsteps moved across the parchment. It made you feel closer to the Marauders.

-You alternated which spare jersey you wore to the games, since George and Fred had both given you their spares to wear.

-Towards the end of the year you found yourself helping the boys more with the pranks, which they loved because you were always telling them how not to get caught.

-At the end of the year you went straight to the Burrow, since it was a full moon. You smiled walking into the Burrow, a sense of home washing over you as Ron raced into the kitchen, and looked at you, “Bloody hell, I am starting Hogwarts this year, where did the year go?”

-And that’s when it hit you... Harry Potter was starting at Hogwarts next term.

-When you went back to the cabin you closed the door and slowly slid down it, the sounds of your father’s records filling the space as Remus sat in the armchair. Your trunk abandoned next to you as you leaned your head back, your thoughts filled with the idea of Harry coming to Hogwarts. You wondered if he knew who you and Remus were, or if you were long forgotten. You wondered if he knew about your father, you were sure he would have, even if he lived with muggles. Would he judge you? Would he be angry at you for your father’s false crimes?

-Remus turned in the chair, and watched you sit there, knowing that the wheels were turning in your head. Finally after five minutes he rose slowly as turned the music down, before making his way towards you and kneeling in front of you, “Would you like to go out tonight?”

“Where?”

“Anywhere you want my love.”

-You chose Hogwarts, and you ended up sitting in Dumbledore’s office with Remus, Hagrid, Dumbledore, and McGonagall. You were all smiles and laughing as you listened to them share stories.

-That summer you spent another month at the Burrow, most days you would lay in the sun with the Twins, and discuss possibly opening a joke shop in the future, which was the twin’s dream.

-Molly always told you that you didn’t have to help with chores, however you would always smile and reply, “You really think Freddie and Georgie will do chores if I don’t help.”

-Sometimes at night you and the boys would lay out in the grass and look at the stars, the cool summer air breezing over your forms as you all laid with your heads pointed towards each other. A few times you had fallen asleep while you all were out there, which resulted in Fred carrying you upstairs to your cot. George would always trail behind, slightly chuckling as he wondered when you and his older brother would get together finally.

-Ginny and you would sometimes sit in the couch and just talk, or you would braid her long, ginger hair. Ron would occasionally join as well but Ginny always looked at him and snapped, “Piss off, she doesn’t like you like that.”

-One day while you brushed her hair she asked you if you could ever see yourself dating one of her brothers. You smiled and replied, “Who knows, maybe one day I will, however that is probably going to be the day that I lose all my sanity.”

-On your last night there, you and the twins snuck out to the roof, and sat out there for hours. However at one point George went inside to pee, leaving you and Fred alone.

“Hey.” His voice was quiet as you looked towards him, the wind picking up a strand of your hair as you smeirked, “Hey.”

“I want to ask you something, but I don’t want it to make things awkward between us.”

Your heart rate escalated, and your palms became sweaty, you were hoping he would finally ask you out, “Nothing you ask me would make stuff awkward Freddie.”

He scooted closer to you, maintaining eye contact as he did, soon you were shoulder to shoulder as he took a deep breath.

“You gonna ask me, or should I wait for tomorrow?” You teased as he let out a chuckle.

“No.” He looked at his hands, which were entangling in each other, and then back at you, his eyes glassy as he whispered, “Why do you live with Mr. Lupin?”

“What?”

“Like what happened to your parents?”

“Well... my mom didn’t tell my dad at first that she was pregnant. He didn’t find out I even existed until I was 6 months old, when she dropped me off at his flat and disappeared. I was starting to display accidental magic, and she freaked out because she was a muggle. I lived with my dad until November of 1981, that’s when I moved in with Uncle Lupin. My dad, ummm, got arrested on false charges.”

“What were they?”

“Murder, and everyone also pinned him as a death eater. He didn’t do anything though.”

“So your father is in...”

“Azkaban.....” you were silent for a second, before looking up towards the stars, “Yeah, he is.”

-There was silence between you and Fred, neither one sure what to say, until his hand slowly glided towards your leg, and he gently placed it down on your thigh, “We don’t have to talk about it again, I just wanted to know.”

“It’s fine Freddie, really.” You replied, before leaning over and resting your head in his shoulder, your eyes closing as you took a deep breath of the summer air, wishing that life could have been slightly different.

Part Four

Part Five

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sweeethinny · 3 years

Text

Skin

Harry wanted to be able to show Ginny, through his eyes, how beautiful she is, and how all this insecurity with her body after giving birth to James is not necessary.

Since he cannot do this, he tries in other ways.

this fic is part of The Harry and Ginuary Extravanganza :) I'm sorry for any mistake

* all of this was written while I was listening to Mac Miller album The Divine Feminine, if anyone wants to get in the mood :)

read bellow the cut or in AO3 :)

Harry had been away from home for almost a month, which seemed more like a painful and torturous eternity than anything else. He missed Ginny and little James, it was much worse than the whole situation that he, Ron, and Theo got into, camping close to a pack of werewolves, and chasing a killer who seemed almost as good at hiding which even made them doubt their abilities as Aurors.

Harry was tired, with some bruises, hungry, missing his son who had not even turned a year yet and probably had grown a lot, and his wife. Harry wanted more than ever to hug Ginny and feel her against him.

He also really wanted to take a decent shower and lie on a bed that wasn’t a camp mattress, because Harry was no longer so young to be able to sleep in a bed like that.

It was worth it, he told himself when he could finally apparate to his home, in peace that he could be with his family again, Robards is looking to retire, he will end up choosing me . Harry didn't quite believe it, but Ginny repeated it a lot every time he complained about the boss; 'One day you will be the boss and you will not need to work like that.'

It was what he expected.

Since he had been a father, Harry was always trying to escape these suicide missions, but he was not always able, and he just hoped that when he was promoted, he would be able to spend more time at home. He never wanted so much to work with the Auror bureaucracy and leave the field.

He still enjoyed the excitement, the chase, the adrenaline, but he was no longer willing to risk his life so much.

In addition to Ginny, there was now someone else who encouraged him, even more, to return home alive.

When Harry opened the door, the smell of home entered his nostrils, a smell he never really stopped to notice, but after a month away, he managed to recognize it.

The hallway light on the second floor was on, probably for James to wake up. Harry took off his boots, cloak, and most of his clothes, and walked around the house, smiling for the first time in a month, seeing James's toys on the living room floor, and some scattered around the dining room, and a divine smell from the room that looked like a turkey, came from the kitchen. Hoping that Ginny was already asleep, as well as James since it was past one in the morning, Harry stopped for a snack.

He didn't even bother to heat the food, eating as if he hadn't seen food for more than days, devouring the deliciously seasoned turkey leg, and alternating with the remaining farofa and baked potatoes. It was a little rude and disgusting, he knew, but Harry felt his stomach echo with hunger, forcing him to forget the etiquette.

After less than ten minutes, he was fed, tiptoeing up to the second floor, James's bedroom door was open, as usual, and Harry couldn't help wanting to see his son and entered the room, taking be careful not to wake him up, seeing him resting deeply in bed, wearing adorable dinosaur pajamas, which put him on completely and prevented him from being cold at night. He looked bigger, Harry noticed, and with more hair, he wanted to hold his son in his arms, hug him but was content to just kiss his slightly sweaty forehead. Harry checked that the window was locked, closed the curtains tightly, covered his son, and left the room.

A part of him was satisfied, James was safe, well, and tomorrow would probably jump on Harry as soon as he realized his father was back. James always went to their bed in the morning, just asked to sleep with them and slept for a few more hours, but whenever Harry spent a few days outside, the next morning when the little one realized that his father was back, it was as if sleep disappeared.

After a month away from James' warm hugs during the mornings when they slept together, Harry was not complaining.

But he was not yet complete, not when he had not yet seen Ginny.

She was probably asleep, he thought, it was late and the days must have been tiring now that she was back to training, and without him at home to help with James, things should have been going smoothly. But the light in their room was on, which Harry found strange.

Still trying not to make any noise, because maybe she just fell asleep without even realizing it, Harry approached, opening the door a little more and sticking his head into their room, looking around.

Harry had already seen Ginny in many ways, they had a son together, however, he was not prepared for that.

She was standing in front of her dressing table, evaluating herself in front of the mirror on the wall, taking small turns to try to see her back, and then turning and facing the mirror. Ginny did not seem to feel the cold that Harry was feeling, since she wore one of the smallest lingerie he had ever seen, still seeming to assess whether the piece was beautiful or not.

The light blue lace made her look even more beautiful, contrasting with the freckles that spread over her skin and the light tan she was getting now that she was back in training. The bra barely hid her nipples, temptingly drawing her breasts, and not having the same common cut as the others she wore, and instead, this one had a few more buttons and went down to the beginning of her ribs, already in translucent fabric. The lace itself was only on the straps and the front of the breasts, descending in a V to the middle of the other fabric, something that made it look even more beautiful.

Ginny kept her hands in front of her belly, the same way she did a month ago when they were going to have sex, or she ended up undressing next to him, and automatically hid her belly. Harry would always comment that she didn't need to hide from him, but Ginny insisted that she still didn't feel safe with her body.

‘Pregnancy changed me,’ She always said. 'You don't know what it's like to see your body change dramatically in a matter of months... Now I have stretch marks where I never thought I would.'

Harry thought it was silly, Ginny was beautiful anyway, and he was still a fool in love, with or without stretch marks.

The panties also had that translucent fabric with a light blue background, it was one of those that had a high waistband and that he knew Ginny preferred to wear recently, but this one he could still see her belly, and the lace only appeared again from the front, covering only what was necessary, while at the back, it was just a small piece of the other fabric, not making much of a point of hiding anything from it, which made Harry salivate.

His imagination would never live up to the perfection that she was, how beautiful her ass made him a little too obsessed, or how her breasts had also changed after pregnancy, and all of James's breastfeeding.

'Hmmm… maybe?' He heard her murmur to the reflection, again turning around in a way that she could still look at her back, running her hands behind her thighs as if she wanted to lift her ass a little further. What Harry thought was unnecessary.

'I thought it was more than perfect.' He finally manifested himself, leaning on the doorframe and feeling his erection grow and cause that pressure against his pants.

Ginny jumped up and pulled her robe in front of her, startled and looking at him with wide eyes, pink cheeks and looking like she had managed to hold back the scream in time. ‘Harry!’

'Yea, it's me.’ He smiled.

'Harry .' Ginny finally seemed to realize it was him there, after a month, and dropped the robe back, running towards him and throwing herself at him in much the same way as the sunny days of 1996, but this time, he picked her up and kissed her with much more hunger and passion than he did at the age of 16, carefully closing the door behind them and taking her to bed, numb with longing and lust.

It was so good to kiss her again, to get lost in the warmth and softness of her lips, her small, slightly callused hands touching him as if to make sure it was him there, going from hair to shoulders, to cheeks, chest. It was as if she also checked that he was okay, whole, without any damage.

'I missed you so much,' he murmured between her kiss, falling on the bed with Ginny on top of him, his hands roaming everywhere he reached, feeling entirely at peace.

'I thought it would take you longer.' She cried, holding his face in her hands and parting their lips so they could look at each other. The brown eyes that Harry thought about daily were staring at him as if they hadn't seen him in years, shining on the sides as if Ginny tried to hold on to her emotions, struggling to hold herself in front of him.

Harry recognized the effort, but he didn't think it was necessary. It was just the two of them there, Ginny didn't have to hide.

He ran his thumb over her cheek, wiping away the one tear that ran. 'I was so scared,' she whispered, like a secret she had been keeping for days.

'Me too,' Harry admitted, failing to divert his attention from her caramel eyes. 'I just wanted to go back to home and be with you.'

'James missed you, he wasn't so happy and today was the first day he agreed to sleep in his bed.' Ginny smiled and lifted her shoulders, her cheeks turning slightly pink. 'Maybe he knew that Daddy would be back.'

'I'm glad he predicted that I would come back,' Harry let his eyes roam over her body, and now more closely he was able to see how the bra fabric barely made an effort to cover her skin. It was too much of a temptation to bear, and Harry barely contained himself before touching them, feeling heaviness in his hands and the heat radiating through the lace, making his stomach drop and his mouth water. Harry had missed it so much.

'You liked it? I went out with the girls after a workout, and Genevieve made me buy it, but I still don't know if it looked good.' Ginny said, her voice a little shaky as if she were that 11-year-old girl who couldn't look at him without blushing, which made him look up from those breasts he was in love with, and look at her. Ginny was really blushing, the red that covered her cheeks was also running down her neck and bust. ‘The bra doesn’t have much support and I don’t know if it looked so beautiful, I mean, it’s a beautiful piece, but I don’t think it looked beautiful on me .’

'Ginny,' Harry interrupted, holding her chin, forcing her to look at him, the other hand coming down her side and holding her in place, already sensing that she was trying to extricate herself from him. ‘You look hot,’ he said. ‘I’m feeling like a teenager, about to come in my pants.’

She laughed, that laugh he loved to hear. 'I would be really upset if even after all this time it was still happening.'

'I have learned to hold on,' He smiled, still caressing her cheek, smiling lovingly at Ginny. 'You and beautiful. In all moments.'

'Even when I was all sweaty, giving birth to James?' Ginny asked, laughing sheepishly as she laced her fingers through his, her auburn hair falling like lava on either side of her face.

'Of course.' Harry didn't take his eyes off hers, wanting her to understand that he was being more than real there. He wanted her to be seen through his eyes, and then she would understand how beautiful she is. 'I think I came to love you even more, if that is possible, that day.'

'Awn Harry, don't be so dramatic, you spend only a month away and when you come back you are declaring yourself as a passionate poet.' She laughed, but he did not fail to notice how Ginny's cheeks got even more flushed and she turned her attention to the wall behind the headboard, as if she tried not to let him realize that it affected her.

'I really missed you, that's why.' Harry shrugged, caressing her cheek and bringing her amber eyes back down to his, laying her head against his hand. 'I hate to be away from you for a long time... my romantic mind comes up and I have a lot of time to think about how to declare myself to you.'

'I hate it too when you stay away,' Ginny smiled, allowing him to see her without all those walls she put up for protection.

'Did something happen while I was gone?' He stared at her, noticing how her shoulders tensed and then relaxed when Ginny sighed and lay on his chest, hugging him as she could, as she usually liked to do during the cold nights.

'Nothing too urgent...'

'Ginny…' Harry whispered, running his hands down her back, feeling the skin prickle.

'Rita made a very pertinent comment about me.' Harry felt her tense under his arms again, and kept silent waiting for Ginny to continue talking. Somehow they got a picture of me training only in a crop top, and apparently I should wear t-shirts like the other girls... something to do with my belly and stretch marks.. ' She sighed.

Harry wanted to go to the Prophet and shout some truths that had been stuck for years, in Rita's face. But he just preferred to tighten his grip around Ginny, and kiss the top of her head.

'You look beautiful in any outfit.' He said, trying to be as clear as possible. 'Rita and everyone else are just assholes who are too self-centered to look at their navel for a minute... You are the hottest woman, Ginny, and I don't say that just because we are married.'

'My body has changed a lot in the last year.' She lifted her face, resting her chin on his chest and looking at him, her brown eyes flashed. 'I don't think I'll ever have that body again and-'

'-And you are still beautiful.' The two faced each other. 'You gave birth to a child, Gin, this is incredible. Your body being able to do that is incredible. I will never get tired of saying that. ’Harry smiled. 'I wanted you to see yourself through my eyes, and see how beautiful you are, even with all those things that you insist on saying are defects and that you hate them.'

'Don't make me cry,' She sat on his lap again, fanning her eyes and looking up at the ceiling, her cheeks flushed and a lovely smile on her face, Harry couldn't help but laugh too, feeling incredibly lighter than hours ago, as if now all that tension had been reduced to dust and there was only peace left in his chest.

'About this lingerie... do you have any plans, or are you just experimenting...?' He went back to browsing Ginny's sculptural body, almost drooling over how her breasts looked in that piece, and the transparency of her panties, which ended up exactly where it started getting more interesting. Harry groaned when she moved and stood on top of his cock, closing his eyes with the sensation of the gods it caused.

'I would surprise you when you came back, I thought it would take another week, then I would buy some candles, and cut my hair... But you ruined my plans.' Ginny smiled, biting her bottom lip as if she knew it was driving him crazy. ‘I believe you want to take a shower?’

'I might want some company,' Harry said, holding Ginny firmly in his lap, getting up from the bed and listening to her scream in fright as he walked to the bathroom in their suite, no longer feeling the fatigue from before. 'You know how needy I am after returning from missions.’

'It's a valid request.' Ginny hugged his neck, hands clinging to his hair, as if he were the life jacket that prevented her from sinking. He felt that way about her too. 'I missed having someone in the bath with me… Someone who doesn't want to mess up the bathroom with water and foam.' Harry laughed, placing her sitting on the white marble countertop, watching her body shiver as she made contact with the cold stone, waving with the wand for the hot water to start filling the bathtub.

'I might want to make a bit of a mess,' he said, approaching and feeling her warm breath against his face, before Harry narrowed the distance and kissed her, hungry but still keeping control, leaving his hands on her thighs, keeping them far enough away for him to stay in the middle.

'I like this mess,' Ginny whispered, her eyes closed and her forehead against his, breathing hard, the sound of water being the only one to fill the room. 'I am happy that you came back. I missed you a lot.’

Harry nodded, closing his eyes to make sure it wasn't just a dream, opening them again then just to see Ginny there. 'I felt it too. I am miserable without you.’

[...]

Harry woke up much later with small hands pulling the blanket off them, and the unfortunate murmurs of a child who tried his best to climb up on the bed. He sighed, feeling happy to get back to that routine, but he didn't move, wanting James to find out for himself that Harry had come back. It was a good time.

One more sigh from a boy who seemed very irritated by his young age, and then he finally succeeded, almost removing all the cover from Ginny, crawling up a little sleepily, still holding that light yellow cloth he always carried, and scratching his eyes.

The sun hadn't even risen, leaving the room in that gloom of the few hours before finally dawn, but Harry could see when James opened his brown eyes and threw himself on top of him.

‘Daddy!’ James shouted, hugging his father as he managed, cold hands making the man shiver.

'Hi my love,' Harry murmured, happy, tired, and a little too sentimental, feeling his eyes prickle. 'Speak low, it is still very early and mummy is sleeping.' He put James under the covers, stroking his son's slightly sweaty head, kissing the boy's forehead. 'We are going to sleep some more, okay? The sun hasn't even appeared yet.’

'Daddy…' James murmured, and Harry waited to see what meaningless phrase his son would try to murmur now, but the boy just kept his icy hands touching his father's face, as if to make sure he was really there.

He could not wait to be able to do fewer and fewer missions that required him to stay away from home for a long time.

'Sleep honey, daddy is here,' Harry assured him, snuggling the boy into his embrace, feeling finally complete, watching Ginny turn towards them, sleeping soundly, and then James, who was preparing for it, little hands clutched the shirt that Harry was wearing, as if it were his cloth.

Harry felt like the happiest man in the world.

#hinny #harry x ginny #Harry and Ginuary #fluff moment #Harry Potter #Ginny Weasley #James Sirius Potter

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moonyblackwerewolf · 4 years

Text

Back to School Ch. 2 - Sirius Black

Betrothed Ch. 2

Sirius Black x fem!Reader

Word count: 2.5k

Summary: Sirius and Y/N meet at a family dinner and have some fun, later she finds out she is betrothed to some pureblood boy so Sirius comes up with a mental idea to save them both.

Warnings: Kissing, hints of sex, 'aggressive' parents, underage drinking, idk my writing and English? lol

a/n: so this is the second part!! i hope you like it!! :)

Xxxx

Ch.1 Ch. 2 Ch. 2.5 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch. 5

When September first finally came Y/N was thrilled, she couldn't handle a single more day at that Hell she calls home, but that didn’t matter anymore ‘cause she was going her to her real home. She was excited to see her friends again, and Sirius too? No she couldn’t miss him, it was a one night thing, and most importantly Sirius Black wasn’t one of falling for someone. He had slept with half of Hogwarts by now, but there was something about him that made Y/N feel butterflies on her stomach when she saw him.

Now, on the train, looking for a place to sit, after she talked with her friends that were in other full cabinets, she saw a familiar face, Sirius’, so she went talk to him, she was nervous because his friends on there too, but she had to go, it wasn’t like her sister would be happy to share her cabinet.

“Hey” she said making the boys’ attention drift to her “Hm, could i maybe sit here with you guys? everywhere else is full, sorry” she said timidly.

“Sure Y/N, sit” Remus answered sweetly patting the sit next to his. He was the only marauder that Elena had talked with before, besides Sirius, given the events from summer break, she liked him, he was sweet, helped her in class when she needed and unlike his friends, was quiet and seemed to avoid trouble. Remus being as observant as he was didn’t miss Sirius’ and Y/N’s glances at one another during the ride and the tension between them, even though Sirius looked more relaxed then her, something had definitely happened.

The ride was fine, Y/N met the other marauders, they talked and laughed. They asked about her friends and about her house, at first they were taken aback about her being a Slytherin but soon brushed it off, Sirius found out her brother was friends with his brother, which he thought was really weird.

“But how did they meet?” Sirius looked confused and quite amused “Isn’t your brother like 5 years older than us?”

“Apparently at an internship in the ministry, your brother worked for mine and they seemed to like each other” she laughed a bit “weird isn’t it?” Sirius chuckled a ‘isn’t it’ as he started making fun of his little brother

“Young ambitious Regulus, trying to impress the big guys, and he’s only in fourth year”

As the mountains outside started showing and the clouds covered the sky, they knew they were soon arriving at the castle.

“And then my brother looked at me and… BOOM he lift me, hung me up in his shoulders and starts heading to the my father” Everyone laughs “A-And” she couldn’t stop laughing “-so i grabbed his arse and he accidentally threw me in the pool. That was the first time I saw my brother laughing in years, for a change” James was the most amused one with the story.

“Wait, wait” he couldn’t hold his laughter “You’re telling me you grabbed the old Slytherin cocky head boy, your brother’s, ass? And that he threw you in the pool, that’s on my new to-do list, but the pool will have to be replaced by the Black Lake, you Watson, are a genius” Y/N didn’t remember the last time she had that much fun with her friends, it was a good feeling being there with the boys, she wasn’t her usual shy self and she liked that.

Sirius felt something weird in the pit of his stomach when he heard her laugh, he didn’t know exactly what is was. They had a lot of fun, the boys liked Y/N, at first they thought she was a bit snobby but then realised she was pretty nice when she played along with James’ jokes and teasing.

When they could already see Hogwarts in the horizon, Y/N’s friends Elizabeth Greengrass and Katherine Abbott two tall blonde girls showed up, already on their Slytherin robes. “Come on Elena stop fooling around and let's go, we cleaned up our cabinet, now there is a free space for you” Elena looked at them a bit confused.

“What do you mean you cleaned?” She asked.

“Oh” her friends laughed “we sent that mudblood friend of yours Carla is it? to a Hufflepuff cabinet” The boys and Y/N looked at them in shock as she got flustered by her friends’ words.

“Oh my god?! Look, guys i’m sorry” she said apologetically, turning to the marauders “I have to go, but thank you, i enjoyed spending time with you” She said as she stood up to leave, when she left they could hear her scolding the two girls, before their voices faded away.

After she left, Remus took his opportunity and asked “What was that Padfoot?” Sirius frowned at him, so he continued “Y/N, you two kept glancing at each other when the other wasn’t looking. Please don’t do that to her she’s my partner in DADA and a nice person” he looked concerned.

“Oh, that was nothing” this time remus was the one who frowned, as James and Peter, as observant as rocks listened to the conversation with curiosity, “Relax Moony, we met over summer break at a party at her house, nothing much, you know me” Remus frowned again and Sirius sighted “We ran away from the party and explored the house, that’s it” making Remus run his hands over his face.

“You’re hopeless”

James laughed hard, clearly thinking his friend’s explanations hilarious “Padfoot we know you don't explore houses without ulterior motives, what’s up with you? Usually you don’t try to hide your one night stands from us” He knew Sirius better than anyone else. “But by the way Pads, she’s hot, nice and all, but isn’t she like, a blood purist like your parents?”

“No” he gasped “She’s not” he lowered his voice “she’s not like them and well you know, she couldn’t resist my looks”

“Ok, ok, sorry Pads I didn’t mean to insult your girlfriend, I like her, since she’s not a snobby purist” Sirius hit his shoulder and the boys laughed and continued talking until they arrived at Hogwarts. Remus’s suspicions growing at friend’s weird behaviour toward the girl, when he saw Sirius staring at her talking with her friends while getting on the carriage heading to Hogwarts and later on the great hall he stared continuously at the Y/H/C girl’s Y/E/C eyes sitting on the Slytherin table he despised so much, but something about her made him despise it a bit less.

“Quit the staring mate, it’s creepy” James pointed out as his friends brushed him off, continuing to eat his turkey.

Looking up from his plate Remus continues “He just can’t help it Prongs, he thinks he’s brother is quite good looking”

“Oh yeah his Y/H/C feminine brother, you’re it’s just brotherly affection” Peter entered the teasing now.

“Oh shove it” Sirius mumbled hitting James.

In all the teasing the boys didn’t realise Y/N reattributing Sirius’ glances despite her friends’ scowls.

——————————

That week on her way to potions class, the Marauders approached Y/N, Sirius slipping an arm around her shoulders smugly.

“Hello beautiful, Potions too?” Sirius greeted her with a smirk on his face while James slipped his arm on her other shoulder, Remus and Peter stayed a bit back shyly waving.

“Yeah Y/N/N, how are you?” James asked teasingly, surprising Y/N.

She chuckled at the boys “What do you guys want?” James and Sirius put their hands in their chests dramatically.

“Rude. We were just asking” Sirius laughed.

“Ignore them Y/N, you’re free to go” Remus intervened sweetly taking his friends’ arms off the girl.

During the next few months they’d have talks in the corridor, eventually, during classes they shared together and Y/N helped them study, or tried to at least. She was surprised that the marauders started paying so much attention to her, since they never had before, she thought her night with Sirius wouldn’t change anything, but clearly that was wrong. They grew closer, she started helping them in their pranks and the boys loved her, she could handle with all of them, Sirius’ flirting, James’ jokes, Peter’s weirdness and Remus, well he was easy to deal with, the others weren’t but she liked them anyway.

They later started to sneak her into the Gryffindor common room, they’d have talks about future pranks or just about their days and ideas. She even became friends with a few Gryffindor girls including a certain red head James had a huge crush on, Lily and Y/N bonded immediately, the girls shared a lot of interests, they understood each other perfectly, it was a friendship for life. James obviously always tried to persuade Y/N into getting a date, but she always gave him the same answer as Lily, no.

As Y/N’s Slytherin friends started to realise she was distancing herself from them and growing closer to the Marauders and Lily, they tried to talk her out, which made Y/N furious. However she couldn't just argue with them, it would be a matter of time until her sister realised, Diana usually kept her nose so high she didn’t even see who her sister walked with, she didn’t actually care, unless it involved her, but she wasn’t blind and would definitely tell to their mother. It’s not that she didn’t like her friends, she did, they were nice to her, but you couldn’t say the same for others, they still hated muggleborns, it was wrong to judge someone for their status, Y/N knew that, but even though she was conflicted between what was right and what her family wanted, she was scared of them and what they could do.

“You barely spend your time with us anymore!” Katherine stormed at Y/N “Only at night in our dorm room or when, and that’s rare now, you’re in the common room” she was angry and didn’t understand her friend’s liking for those pricks.

“Or in the classes we don’t share with Gryffindor” Elizabeth added “We miss you Y/N/N, Elijah does too” her face softened.

“I miss you guys too Betty” the words escaped Y/N’s mouth even not knowing if they were true. Nevertheless Y/N wasn’t planning on getting any closer to the girls, her solution to her doubts: just ignoring them.

In fact, after that conversation Y/N started spending more time with the Gryffindors, even sleeping there with them on the red couches by the fireplace after a long day or just talking for so long they would fall asleep accidentally, she and Sirius sometimes would end up cuddling subconsciously in their sleep, Remus would always notice when they woke up a little shocked but then just act like it didn’t happen after Sirius making a flirty comment, since the both friends had agreed to ignore the night they shared at her house, but secretly wishing it’d happen again, but they didn’t, it was just friendship right? but Remus and James saw right through their agreement, James teasing them endlessly.

“Padfoot do you take Y/N/N as your beloved wife” James sang grabbing both his friends’ arms.

“I do Prongs” Sirius joked.

“Brothers and Sisters, does anyone here has anything to say? It’s now or never” James continued.

“You’re such an arse James, why don’t you go look for Lily, so i can marry you with her too” Y/N hissed, laughing at the end.

“I’d love to” James accepted

“Good try” she leaves his grip, strong nails never fail.

She’d never admit but she loved their jokes, teasing and dumb comments, that are actually very smart, they are so funny and make her feel so happy. They were becoming her best friends and gaining her trust, which isn’t easy, as she was gaining their’s. It was a feeling she never had before, like a family she never had, the random talks at night, the real trust, and care, made her feel loved in a way she wasn’t at home.

They were becoming real friends while Y/N’s friends kept drifting away from her, they thought that the Marauders were irresponsible gits who just wanted attention, and would only talk to Y/N when she was alone on classes they didn’t share with Gryffindor or on the Slytherin common room. But honestly Y/N couldn’t care less, the Marauders and Lily had become her true family.

One day at a Gryffindor party, some Slytherins crashed and Lucius Malfoy cornered Y/N and Sirius saw what looked like a heated conversation, Malfoy seemed to be raging with anger and Y/N was almost crying, Sirius’ blood was boiling, what the hell was Malfoy doing with his girl, He had enough of seeing his friend suffer and shoved Malfoy away.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Sirius asked concerned, as he held her arms, that was it for her, she started crying and he wrapped her in his arms whispering sweet nothings in her ear “Hey, hey everything’s fine love, what’s wrong, what did Malfoy do?” He asked rubbing her back lightly.

“He.. He… He was trying to bring me back to the Slytherin dorm, saying that i needed to stop my ‘rebellious phase’ and go back to being a ‘good girl’ and to stop hanging out with you guys” she said sobbing against his shoulders.

“Hey Y/N, Malfoy’s an arse, you don’t need to listen to him, he won’t take you anywhere, not under my watch” he paused and smirked at her “You know, I pretty much prefer when you’re biting my shoulder rather than to see you crying on it because of that bloke” He smiled as an attempt to lighten up the mood and even made her chuckle a little.

“But that’s not it” she started sobbing again “H-he said that i’ll have to oblige sooner or later, b-because” she stopped, crying harder and Sirius tightened his grip around her “He said my parents are going to send me a letter explaining everything, Sirius and-and i-i’m scared”.

Lily, who had seen Sirius shoving Malfoy away, ran in her best friend’s direction and wrapped Y/N in another bear hug.

Sirius had never seen her like this, and he hated it, but it made him like and trust her even more. From this day on, he knew, he promised himself that he would always protect her if she ever needed him to, he wouldn’t let anyone hurt one of his best friends.

That night the Marauders spent the night in the common room talking until they all fell asleep, that night she felt loved by the group she now called family, it was a nice feeling.

a/n: i don't know if i like it? idk. What do you guys think? let me know if you want to

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orange-waterfalls · 4 years

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Cat!Reader? Cat!Reader.

ty anon for the request!

A/N: Listen. Listen. Just... They would all love you! That’s it! That’s the whole post. You can leave. no don’t i worked hard on this uhhhhhh i only did 5! bc... it was not specific... and i couldn’t really do much here... but i like this. You are A Cat. That is literally it. i think it’s cute. Dark, Wilford, Yancy, Illinois, Magnum are the egos. so basically the egos in AHWM. uhhhh rated G! Because the worst word i say is piss. I think that’s everything. This one’s pretty boring but also very soft so I think it makes up for it. Enjoy!

Asks/Requests are open!

Cat!reader w/ some egos

Darkiplier is worried. What the hell happened to you? Why were you a cat? Did you piss off a wizard or what? Since you can’t really answer any of his questions, he decides to just… vibe, really. He pets you, he plays with you, gives you scritches, normal things people do with cats. He doesn’t even really mind that you’re his friend and he might regret this when you turn back to normal. You’re cute, that’s all there is to it. He doesn’t know what to feed you so he just gives you a whole can of tuna. He later looks it up and realizes maybe that wasn’t the best idea. He keeps a close eye on you to make sure you won’t like… keel over and die or something. He does the “pspsps” thing at you and is happily surprised when you actually respond by running over to him. He is ELATED you are so CUTE. He decides to cuddle you when he goes to sleep, and he sleeps much better than he had in awhile. When he wakes up in the morning, you are no longer a cat. Subsequently, he is now cuddling human-you. In his bed. And you may or may not be naked. He gently squirms out of bed, as to not make you uncomfortable. He leaves a hoodie and some sweatpants by the bed for when you wake up. When you do wake up, he asks you if you remember everything from the day before. You do, but you save him the embarrassment by saying you don’t. You do tease him sometimes by going “pspsps” when he walks by.

Wilford loves you. You are small, you are adorable, you are soft. You are also a cat at this point, but whatever. He’d like to know how you got to be this lil baby that you are, but soon gets distracted from that because HOLY LORD YOU’RE ADORABLE. He immediately goes out and buys a lil collar with bells for you, to keep track of you in your small form. He spends most of the day just watching you, seeing what you do. You did normal cat things, and he began to wonder if you really were… well… you. Once you took a nap, and he woke you so you could eat. You trilled at him and he jumped off the ground a little in pure joy. He fed you only the BEST food. Meaning he fed you turkey slices and salami. He bought you a tiny sweater and made you wear it. You just… let it happen, really. At night, you snuggled up on his chest. He was so happy for someone who couldn’t breathe. He woke up before you and saw that you were a person again. He was a little sad, he wouldn’t lie. The tiny sweater was just sitting at the foot of the bed. He sat next to you and waited for you to wake up. When you did wake, he shoved some clothes in your face and told you “we’re getting a cat!”. You sighed, not really in a position to argue.

Yancy is confused. Why were you a cat? How did you turn into a cat? Do people just turn into cats nowadays? In any case, he stays away from you, mostly. Doesn’t want to hurt you. You look very fragile, he doesn’t want anything to happen to you. However, you are a cat, and are very curious. You know how the saying goes. He has to keep a close eye on you to make sure you don’t do anything you’re not supposed to. Such as: eat plastic, climb a tree, eat plastic, eat grasshoppers, eat plastic-WHY DO YOU KEEP EATING PLASTIC? Eventually he just decides to swaddle you in a blanket so you can’t move. That ends with you screaming in your little cat voice and him nearly crying before letting you go. He also gives you turkey as a treat because he feels bad. He tried to stay awake to keep an eye on you, but fell asleep in his chair. He woke up startled by the fact that he’d fallen asleep. He was also pretty sore. More importantly: oh god where did you go? He panicked, yelling your name while looking around. He found you asleep in your bed and sighed. He sat in a chair nearby and waited for you to wake up. When you did wake up he saw that you were… not wearing clothes… and coughed while looking away. He stuttered an excuse and left the room, blushing profusely. You smiled and got dressed.

Illinois is unfazed. Not the most normal of things to happen to people he knows, definitely not the weirdest. He’s more surprised that it didn’t happen on an adventure with him. Were you cursed? He knew a thing or two about curses. While attempting to figure it out, he realized that you were a cat. Like, just a cat. Like a “I will knock down every item above 2 feet from the ground” cat. You started knocking down objects he’d kept from adventures. Most were very sturdy, but a select few were very fragile. He caught most of them, but you were just too small and agile. He glared at you as he angrily swept up the pieces of broken artifacts from the floor. He sulked about it for a while, before you hopped in his lap and got comfy. He gave you a little smile before petting you as you napped. He fed you actual cat food he’d bought from the store, because he is a responsible pet owner. He also bought a feather toy for you to play with. He knew this wasn’t a very smart investment, but screw you, he was a grown man who could spend his money how he wanted. He laid down to sleep that night and you curled up onto a pillow right next to his ear. The purring was very soothing for him and he fell asleep quickly. In the morning, he was greeted with your face right in front of him. He smirked, seeing an opportunity in hand. He cleared his throat, and woke you up. Your eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to tease you. You stopped him by whacking him in the face with a pillow. You walked away to find some clothes while he laughed.

Magnum is entertained. Now, what the hell’d you do to get yourself turned into a feline? Piss off a sorcerer? Piss off a god? Piss of Davy Jones himself? He didn’t know, but he had a good time thinking about it. However, the sea is not the best place for a cat such as yourself. He restricted you to his cabin so you wouldn’t hurt yourself. He checked on you every 10 minutes to make sure you hadn’t slipped away somehow. Once you got past him and onto the deck. The crew panicked and jumped away, as to not accidentally step on you. Magnum caught up to you and you meowed(screamed) at him repeatedly. He picked you up and held you to his face and asked “What do ye WANT, child?!” He then realized that you might be hungry, and caught some fish for you to eat. He then sat in the room for a few minutes(half an hour) just watching you dancing around, thinking you were the cutest thing he’d ever seen. At night, he doesn’t usually sleep. However, considering you had already cuddled up at his feet, he couldn’t exactly move. So he just went to sleep in his chair. You woke before him in the morning(he hadn’t slept in a while) and changed into some clothes a crew member lent you. He panicked in the cabin, not knowing where you went. He slammed the door open and saw you chatting with the crew. He sighed, relieved, and went back into his cabin to sleep.

#markiplier egos x reader #darkiplier #wilford warfstache #darkiplier x you #darkiplier x reader #wilford warfstache x you #wilford warfstache x reader #captain magnum #captain magnum x reader #captain magnum x you #yancyiplier #yancy x reader #yancy x you #illinois jones #illinois x reader #illinois x you #x reader #x you

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erin-bo-berin · 4 years

Text

Baby Shoes

MASTERLIST

Finally, this fic is here! This takes place over the course of a year and is told from Spencer’s perspective and how he handles his grief. Also, just a note. I’m aware I jumped from two months to four months. At first, I was going to do like every couple of months, but then I had ideas for the upcoming months and just left it like that. So just a heads up, it’s not a typo.

TRIGGER WARNING for anyone who’s ever went through a miscarriage. I don’t know if anyone who has might stumble upon this, but if you aren’t in the right headspace to read something like this then please don’t. Even though this is a work of fiction, I know it’s a very real, hard and triggering subject for some. So if you’re in a bad headspace and find yourself not being able to read this, I understand completely.

Sit back, relax (maybe with some tissues cause this hurt to write) and enjoy all 11k words. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: G (angst)

Word Count: 11,051

Spencer woke to sounds of laughter.

He opened his eyes to see early morning rays of sunlight streaming through the cracked blinds. He figured it had to be around 7:00, maybe 7:30.

He tossed the sheets off his body, getting out of bed.

He could hear Y/N’s voice as he walked down the hall from the bedroom, heading towards the kitchen. He recognized another sound as the television playing, as well.

The scent of freshly cooked bacon wafted from the direction of the kitchen. He thought he smelled pancakes too.

Rounding the corner into the kitchen, he saw Y/N at the stove fixing breakfast, their little girl sitting at her feet on the floor, chewing on a toy of hers.

Sensing his entrance, her tiny head turned, grinning big when she spotted him.

She was quite literally the perfect mixture of him and Y/N. She had his curls, but Y/N’s hair color. Her eye shape and color was all Spencer, but her lips and mouth came from Y/N. She had Spencer’s nose, yet Y/N’s face shape. Her smile was as bright as her father’s and her skin the shade of her mother’s.

It seemed, in theory, to be the weirdest combination of small features from both of them, but it worked. She was the most perfect little girl.

But then again, he was a tad bit biased.

The toy fell from her fist to the floor with a clang, forgotten for the moment as she crawled in his direction.

“Da da da da,” she babbled.

Y/N turned, finally noticing Spencer’s entrance.

“Morning,” she grinned at him, “You must’ve slept well, your bed head is insane.”

He chuckled, picking his little girl up in his arms, running the fingers of his free hand through his hair.

“Well I guess I know where her crazy bed head comes from,” he grinned, motioning to his daughter.

“I’ll say,” Y/N shook her head, exasperated, “By the way, breakfast is almost ready.”

He snatched a piece of bacon and took a bite, keeping it out of reach of the grabby baby hands.

“Do you mind feeding her while I finish this up? She’s getting hungry.”

“Sure,” he smiled, carrying her to her high chair, sitting her in it.

She immediately started fussing. She hated being constricted. Whether it was her high chair or her carrier, she wasn’t much of a happy camper not being able to be on the move.

“I know, baby,” he cooed, “But daddy’s got breakfast for you.”

He grabbed the plate of cut up scrambled eggs and put some on the tray of her high chair. She stopped fussing, reaching a hand for the fluffy egg. Apparently, if food was involved, she’d tolerate being in the chair.

She held out a piece of egg to Spencer and he ate it out of her hand, making her smile big. His heart was so full of love for his daughter that he didn’t think it could expand any more than it already had. But every day, his heart grew just a little bit more, his love for her ever growing for as she herself grew.

He ran a hand over her mess of curls, kissing her head.

“I love you, baby girl.”

That was when his alarm rang.

Spencer laid awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. This time, he was awake for real.

This time, he was waking to reality.

His heart twisted painfully as he remembered the dream he’d had. One that was always recurring, one way or another.

What hurt the most was the fact that the dream represented exactly what his life was supposed to look like.

But life, as many knew, could be unfairly cruel.

•

It had been January 3rd.

The holiday season had officially wrapped up; everyone was still in a holiday hangover mode and probably going back to work and school.

But for Spencer, it was the best day ever.

Y/N had taken at least half a dozen pregnancy tests, unbeknownst to him, before she finally told him.

He’d about fell off the couch in alarm when he’d heard her shriek from the bathroom. In a flash, he’d rushed to the bathroom, fearing something was wrong. He paused at the doorway, where she had been about to exit, to find him.

“What’s wrong?!” he asked, clearly panicked.

His eyes quickly scanned her for any injuries, blood, anything wrong. But she was crying. And smiling. The two displays of emotion couldn’t seem to connect in his brain, his worry clouding his thinking. He was so preoccupied with making sure she was okay, that he didn’t even notice the spread of pregnancy tests that laid on their bathroom counter.

“Y/N, what’s the matter? Are you okay?”

He was reaching out to her, when she spoke.

“I’m pregnant,” she said, her smile growing even more impossibly wide.

Spencer was so stunned for a moment, he didn’t know what to say. It was as if it took a minute for the words to leave her mouth and reach his brain.

Her forehead creased, now concerned that he wasn’t as happy about the news as she was.

Then, it finally clicked.

“You’re pregnant?!” he exclaimed, his entire face lighting up.

He was smiling so big; his dazzling smile was showing off his perfect teeth. His eyes that sparkled with joy were also crinkling at the corners. It was one of Y/N’s favorite looks on him. It was hard not to be happy when he smiled so big.

She nodded, still a bit apprehensive at his hesitation. She showed him the test.

“I’ve taken six. All came back positive.”

Then he did something that really surprised her. Spencer quite literally hooted from joy. His arms wrapped around her, hugging her tightly as he spun her around a time or two.

Her squeals of laughter warmed his heart as she clung to him, her face buried in his neck. He could feel her smile against his skin.

They had talked in depth about having children many, many times before. They both adored kids with all of their hearts and wanted to have their own some day. In fact, it most likely wasn’t a typical day unless one or the other made some sort of mention about their future kids.

They hadn’t been actively trying though. It was more of a case for them of letting it happen when it was supposed to happen. Apparently, it was in the cards for them that it happened sooner than they even expected it to.

“So you’re not upset, are you?” she asked when he finally set her down.

She chewed at her bottom lip. Something she tended to do when she was nervous.

She was still the tiniest bit concerned after seeing his blank face for the first couple of seconds.

“No! No,” Spencer reassured her, “You just caught me so off guard that it took me a minute to realize what you’d actually said.”

She chuckled.

“I know. I actually did a double take when I took the first test. I didn’t believe it, so I obviously had to check...five more times. Guess that explains why I almost puked at the smell of the turkey at Christmas.”

Spencer smiled, his hand resting on her stomach. It would still be a while before the signs of pregnancy would start to appear, but the thought of this tiny child that they’d both created was currently growing inside of her still amazed him.

His eyes met hers, their excitement and joy mirroring one another’s.

It was going to be the start of an amazing new year.

•

A doctor’s appointment was scheduled to confirm the pregnancy.

After blood work and the other necessities, it was confirmed that Y/N was around six weeks pregnant. Spencer was overjoyed.

A due date of August 9th was set. Then it was time for the ultrasound.

A tiny nugget appeared on the screen. It literally looked like the size of a peanut.

“It’s our little peanut,” Spencer smiled, squeezing her hand.

Thus, the nickname Peanut was born. They’d use it at least until they found out the sex of the baby. Until then, Peanut it would be.

They both gazed in awe at the ultrasound screen as the tech checked to make sure everything was on track with the pregnancy, the baby was growing well, etc. It was surreal to Spencer to see this tiny life on the screen. One that ultimately belonged to both Y/N and him.

He didn’t expect to feel such an overwhelming amount of emotions as he was currently experiencing.

He was happy, of course. He was nervous; becoming a parent was a big deal. That along with fear melded together as one, he was going to be partially responsible for this child.

He felt awe, he felt surprise, still not able to believe this was real.

But most importantly, he felt love. His heart was so filled with it. For the baby that he would meet at the end of this summer, for Y/N, the love of his life and all she was going to experience in the coming months to give this child shelter and then eventually, life.

After the appointment and with a copy of the ultrasound in hand, they headed home. He couldn’t wait to show the team the picture.

This baby wasn’t even a full two months old yet, but he was already so proud of his child.

“He or she will definitely have your nose. I will riot if they don’t,” Y/N chuckled, looking at the picture.

“What? Why?”

His light laugh filled the car, amused by her statement.

“Because you have the cutest nose ever and our baby better have it,” Y/N pointed out.

It was then a thought occurred to him.

“I need to make a quick stop.”

Twenty minutes later, Spencer had returned to the car, a bag in hand. He’d made Y/N wait in the car while he chose his item. It was going to be a surprise.

“What’d you get?” she asked, trying to reach for the bag.

“Nuh uh,” he tutted, “It’s just something for the baby.”

He set the bag in the backseat, on the floor behind the driver’s seat where she couldn’t reach.

“Well then why can’t I see?”

“I want it to be a surprise,” he smiled.

He thought back to earlier in the store when he finally found what he had been looking for. He held one in the palm of his hand, amazed at how small they were.

They were perfect.

He paid for them and walked out with his new purchase, anxious to surprise Y/N at a later date with them.

They were a pair of baby converse shoes, in black, just like Spencer’s.

•

The entirety of the BAU were thrilled with the news. From the team to even other members who Spencer very rarely, if ever, worked with.

The ultrasound picture was passed around, Spencer beaming the entire time as they gave their congratulations, hugs, kisses and high fives.

“What do you know? The day has finally come that Dr. Spencer Reid has created offspring,” Luke Alvez joked.

“Hush,” Penelope Garcia scolded her boyfriend, “We’re all so excited for you, Spencer.”

“I knew it would happen,” Jennifer Jareau smiled, gazing at the picture, “Finally I get to be an aunt.”

David Rossi even threw a small celebration for them at his house for them with amazing, authentic Italian food and good wine—well, sparkling juice for Y/N.

There were many jokes, many smiles, many laughs and a lot of love.

Spencer was on cloud nine.

It was the best month ever.

•

January flew by.

Spencer was constantly busy with both his work and home life.

He and Y/N spent hours online looking at pictures for nursery inspiration. They looked at cribs, toys, clothes, both for little boys and little girls, dreaming of how cute Peanut would look in said outfit.

They researched names, already tossing names back and forth to get a feel of what one another liked and didn’t like.

He was relieved to know that so far, the first trimester had been pretty good to Y/N. Other than exhaustion and mild nausea, no other symptoms seemed to plague her at the moment.

Spencer could hardly wait for the weeks to pass. He was excited to watch their baby grow both inside the womb and outside.

It was another typical night getting ready for bed after a long day. Work had been long hours of paperwork on the latest case they’d just wrapped up.

As he had been doing, Spencer rubbed Y/N’s belly, talking to Peanut before settling in for the night.

“Good night Peanut,” he kissed her belly, “Get a good night’s sleep so you can grow big and strong and finally show everyone you’re in there.”

She chuckled, knowing good and well that Spencer was anxious for the pregnancy bump to finally appear.

He kissed her, told her goodnight and wished her sweet dreams before falling asleep at just about the same time his head hit the pillow.

February 3rd had been just another normal day.

Spencer was shook awake and his eyes shot open, his first thought being that he’d overslept and was going to be late for work.

He sat up, noticing that instead of the morning light filling the room, there was only a small glow from the bedside lamp lighting the room. It was still dark outside.

“Spencer.”

Something in Y/N’s tone made his stomach clench in dread. Her voice was choked and slightly shaky.

He turned her way, as she pushed the covers back, his eyes landing on the alarming pool of red staining the bedsheet.

“I won’t stop bleeding,” her voice cracked.

The next hour was filled with a flurry of activity. Him rushing her to the hospital, the nerve wracking time spent waiting on the doctor, the tests, the blood. All the blood.

It was like crimson laughter in their faces.

The doctor’s words were the nail in the coffin.

“You’ve miscarried, I’m so sorry.”

They were separated for a short while during the necessary procedure, due to her heavy, incessant bleeding. She had only been ten weeks.

It was February 4th. The day they lost their baby.

•

One Day

The ride home was awkward and silent. No words could be said. They didn’t even know what to say.

She was traumatized, he could tell by the haunted look in her tearful eyes.

She’d had to have a D&C, known as a Dilation & Curettage, for medical reasons. The doctor was too concerned about the amount of blood she was losing to let her go home and miscarry naturally.

He obviously hadn’t been through the procedure himself, but he knew it had to be traumatizing to think of a foreign object having to scrape out the remnants of the failed pregnancy.

As he drove home, he couldn’t help but cruelly compare this ride home to the one just a month prior. He felt hollow, like he was stripped of all his emotions. He couldn’t even cry.

He’d never known such a deep pain.

Where does one go from that?

•

One Month

He tried his best to comfort Y/N, but nothing ever seemed to work.

He’d tried to hold her while she cried, but she didn’t want to be touched.

He’d tried talking to her, but she didn’t want to talk.

He’d tried finding a therapist for her to see, but she didn’t want to go.

The subject of the miscarriage was taboo. They never spoke of it. It felt as if it had been erased from their lives all together, like the remnants of chalk on a chalkboard.

His teammates were as devastated as he was, as if it was their own child they’d lost.

When he told them, there was no need for words. There were a lot of hugs, a lot of apologies, a lot of if you need anything, let me know.

No one said it would be okay. He hadn’t even said it to Y/N because it wasn’t okay. They’d lost their child. A baby that never had a chance to grow, never had a chance to meet the outside world, one they would never get to meet.

It had been a month and he hadn’t cried.

He figured Y/N had done enough crying for the both of them.

He felt like he didn’t deserve to cry. She was the one that had to go through the traumatic procedure, the one that had to discover the puddle of blood in the middle of the night. She was the one who blamed herself and her body for not being able to keep the baby alive.

He had no right to cry.

Sometimes, he heard her crying into her pillow at night when she thought he was asleep. He desperately wanted to hold her. He wanted to make everything okay. But he didn’t know if that was even possible.

It was one morning while he was getting ready for work when he found them.

He had just picked out his suit for the day from the closet when a bag tumbled and fell at his feet. He bent to pick it up, not realizing just yet what it was.

He peered inside, curiously, to see what it was before putting it back where it had fallen from.

His heart dropped when he spotted the pair of spotless, brand new baby Converse. He’d forgotten he’d hid it in the closet where Y/N wouldn’t find them, to surprise her later.

They had been forgotten amidst the chaos of the last several weeks.

He balled up the bag, stuffing it at the back of the closet where he didn’t have to see them again before shutting the door to both the closet and his heart.

•

Two Months

Spencer was thoroughly grateful for the recent heavy workload. Not that people being murdered was a good thing.

At least serial killers kept his mind busy.

“Spence, if you need some time off…” Emily Prentiss, friend, teammate and BAU Unit Chief offered hesitantly.

“Emily, I’m fine okay? Have I been doing a bad job lately?” Spencer asked.

“Well, no. You’ve been doing excellent work,” Emily answered, truthfully.

“Then there’s no problem, is there?”

She flinched just the tiniest bit at his sharper than normal tone. Most people would’ve missed it, but his trained, profiler eyes caught it.

“I’m just worried about you. You’ve been working a lot lately, staying late.”

He shrugged.

“Just staying on top of my work.”

“Is everything okay? Are you okay? You know, ever since…” she trailed off, hesitant to even mention the miscarriage.

That was something that was similar to how things at home were. No one mentioned the miscarriage and not out of respect, but more out of fear or the fact they just didn’t know what to say. He could see it in all their eyes though, always wondering.

He just wished they weren’t so worried about him. They could talk about it. He wouldn’t spontaneously lose it.

But at the same time, he was grateful they didn’t bring it up. Sometimes he was afraid that if the topic was broached that he would either break down or do the opposite and throw something.

Either way, work was ideal for keeping his mind focused.

“I’m okay.”

She seemed to believe him because she just nodded and left to head to her office without another word.

Work was about the only stable thing in his life right now.

He had gotten to where he dreaded going home because he couldn’t stand hearing Y/N cry. He never knew what to say.

Even when he’d tried, he always seemed to say the wrong thing.

How could he help her when she didn’t want to be helped?

Working late made it a bit easier to go home. He didn’t have to face her heartbreak.

She was usually asleep by the time he crawled into bed, something he silently was thankful for, even if it did make him feel like a shitty person.

She had just recently gotten her first period since losing the baby. That was as close as they had gotten to actually talking about it.

Apparently, this period was the worst she’d had. She’d curled up in bed with bad cramps and had hardly left it for the last few days.

He hoped it was only because of her period.

•

Four Months

People said some of the most disheartening things.

It was apparent that sometimes, people just didn’t know what to say in a situation. In fact, sometimes it was appropriate to say nothing at all.

A variety of Y/N’s family members told her things like:

Well at least you can try for another one.

You’re young, you’ll have plenty of kids.

What’s to stop you from trying again?

Well at least it wasn’t a planned pregnancy.

Even strangers, when informed of the situation, had said things along the lines of you’ll have another baby.

That was the worst thing to say to anyone who had been in this same scenario. There was no way of knowing if any of that was true.

No one would say that to people who had lost a baby after it was born, so why say it to anyone who had lost an unborn baby?

The insensitive words were like a hammer to glass to Y/N’s mental health. Spencer could see her shrinking more into herself as the days passed.

She never said it, but he knew she blamed herself.

He also knew she had to talk about it, to heal.

“Y/N. We really need to talk about it,” Spencer told her, one day.

He couldn’t bring himself to actually say the word to her. He was almost afraid of what it would do to her.

“I told you Spencer, I don’t want to.”

“I understand that. But you need to talk about it. You need to get it out of your head.”

She shrugged, not seeming to care. He sighed, frustrated. He couldn’t help if she resisted, but he was willing to push a bit too.

“What if we went to a sort of group therapy? You don’t have to talk, just listen to other people’s stories.”

“No.”

“Please,” he almost begged.

He hated seeing her like this. All he wanted to do was to help her.

It was also a distraction from the turmoil that seemed to roll in him like a rebellious ocean wave, getting stronger by the day. But he had to remain strong, he needed to be her support.

Maybe it was because this wasn’t the first time he’d asked her to talk to someone, but she actually agreed.

With a quick online search, he found a support group that met every Saturday at 10 a.m. They were going to join the next one.

“I was eight weeks,” a woman with auburn hair, named Lily said.

“I found out I was pregnant when I was only a month along, so pretty early on,” she laughed half heartedly.

Spencer sat next to Y/N, holding her hand.

It had been surprisingly easy to get her here this morning. Maybe because all the fight had left her, maybe she was ready to heal. Whatever it was, he was glad they were here.

The support group was rather casual. Just a dozen or so metal folding chairs placed in a circle. Anyone was welcome to share their story. You could just sit and listen. So far, all they’d done was listen. This was the second story they’d heard.

“I started cramping about ten hours before everything started. I didn’t think of much of it since I knew some cramping is normal in pregnancy. I had to be up early for work, so I went to bed early, hoping a good night’s sleep would help.”

Spencer could feel the tight squeeze of Y/N’s grip. He knew this was hard for her. It was for him, too.

“I woke up two hours before I had to be at work. I was bleeding a lot,” Lily’s voice cracked as she tried not to cry.

“I went to use the bathroom before going back to sleep and that’s when I noticed a gray clump.”

A few of the others reached over squeezing Lily’s arms or rubbing her back, giving her encouragement to continue.

“I was shaking and crying when I went to wake my husband. We went to the ER and they later confirmed that I had miscarried.”

Lily dabbed at her eyes with the tissue she’d been holding in her hands.

“That was last year. Sometimes it still hurts as much as it did in that moment. I wouldn’t wish that pain on anyone. Me and my husband have been trying to conceive again, but haven’t had any luck. Sometimes, I wonder if it’s because I feel so guilty for wanting to be pregnant again even though I lost a child.”

A chair scraped back against the linoleum floor. It took a moment for Spencer to realize it was Y/N’s.

She stood, running out of the room before he could call after her.

The rest of the group eyed him sympathetically and he mumbled an apology and excused himself.

He found her outside by the car, sobbing her heart out.

“Y/N,” he tried to touch her arm.

She jerked away from his grip.

“Don’t touch me,” she snapped.

He stepped back, shocked at her outburst.

“How could you drag me to something like this?!”

“What do you mean? I thought it would help.”

“You really think it helps to hear women talk about something that was one of the worst days of my life?” she cried, “It didn’t help! It just made me want to forget about it more!”

“Y/N, please,” he said, trying once again to pull her towards him.

“No. I hate you! I hate you for making me come here!”

With that, she spun on her heel, jerking the car door open and getting in, slamming it behind her.

He stood, staring at the place she had just been standing. He wanted to jerk the car door open himself. He wanted to yell too.

He wanted to yell that he’d lost a baby too.

But he didn’t. He simply got in the car quietly and drove home.

•

Five Months

The dreams started in the summer.

Usually it would be some sort of dream where Spencer would wake up to Y/N and their child. It usually differed if it was a boy or a girl.

One dream he’d had recently, he’d taken his little boy to the playground. He watched the toddler play in the sandbox, go down the slide, proud of doing it by himself for the first time. Then he swung on one of the bright yellow swings. He even teeter-tottered in Spencer’s lap. Spencer was too afraid to let the little boy be on it by himself just yet.

It had felt so real, being there on that cool fall day watching his child play, oblivious to everything in the world but his gleeful joy of having the entire playground to himself.

The dreams bothered Spencer more than he cared to admit. Yet, he told no one about them. Not even Y/N.

Things were tense with them, more so than ever. After her outburst because of the support group, they never went back. They also spoke less.

They hadn’t even been intimate since the ordeal.

Not that he had expected to, but this was different than just the normal grieving. He could feel cracks starting to appear in their relationship. It felt like cracks were starting to appear in the concrete protective layer around his heart, that shielded off his emotions.

It was like living with a stranger, sharing a bed with a stranger.

Sometimes he wondered who was worse off, Y/N or himself.

•

Six Months

August was the hardest month yet.

If Y/N had still been pregnant, she would’ve been having the baby soon, if she hadn’t already.

He often wondered what the baby would have looked like. If he or she would’ve looked more like Y/N or more like him. Would it have been stubborn like Y/N? Smart like him? Outgoing like her? Shy like him? What would have been the baby’s favorite toy? Would it have crawled early? Maybe start walking before they were a year old?

The thoughts of a future that they weren’t able to have with this baby were the most toxic thing to his mentality. It was like the “what ifs”; once you started thinking about them, you couldn’t stop.

JJ was the only one to mention it at work that day.

They’d only gotten back the night before from a case in California.

Lately, time away from each other was the best thing for him and Y/N. Gone was the playful, loving relationship they’d had.

In its place was a cold, frigid, fragile relationship.

Spencer was at a loss of what to do anymore. All they did was bicker. That was something they’d never done much of before.

Sure, they’d had arguments, a few bad ones here and there, but these were much worse.

There was a mountain of unsaid words between them that had been steadily built over the last half year. He knew it was as much as his fault as it was hers, but at one point he actually thought it would soon resolve itself.

He never expected it to get to this point.

“How are you?” JJ asked, leaning against the edge of his desk.

By this point he was torn between being tired of being asked how he was and actually wanting to be asked how he was. Besides his best friends and teammates, no one had asked how he was. Not even Y/N.

He gave a little shrug, which of course she saw right through.

“Today was her due date, wasn’t it?”

He had to give JJ the benefit of the doubt. She had had a miscarriage herself. In fact, hers was in a horrible way as well. She lost her baby after being injured in an explosion. If anyone, JJ would understand that sort of pain.

“Yeah,” he sighed.

“How are you, really?” she asked.

“Not great,” he answered truthfully.

“Is Y/N not any better?”

JJ had been the only one he’d confided in about his current relationship problems. Even though she didn’t know what to say, she listened.

“No. Things are awful.”

He’d been resorting to sleeping in an interview room every now and then. JJ caught him once and only then did she realize just how badly things had gotten.

“She still doesn’t want to talk about it?” she frowned.

Spencer shook his head.

“Maybe she’s only following your lead, Spence,” she pointed out gently.

His brows furrowed.

“What do you mean?”

“You haven’t grieved properly yourself, have you?”

He pressed his lips together, refusing to answer. But JJ had known him for over 15 years. She didn’t have to hear the answer to know what it was.

“I know you hold your emotions close to you, so tightly in fact that you don’t show them at all. You busy yourself with helping others, burying yourself in work, doing anything but processing your emotions. You know as well as I do that that isn’t healthy.”

He remained quiet, staring at his desk. He really didn’t feel like being lectured right now.

“She’s just doing the exact same thing in her own way. Instead of not showing her emotions, she refuses to talk about it, which she thinks would help her heal and move on. Just like facing your grief would help you heal.”

He still wasn’t looking at her, but he listened.

“Spencer. Look at me.”

Her tone was firm. The tone of a concerned friend.

He looked up at her. He was almost positive the pain shone in his eyes.

“A miscarriage is a strange thing. You’re grieving the loss of a person who you never even met. You’re grieving for the person that baby never got to become, for the moments and memories you’d never get. It’s a hard thing to process and it’s hard on both the mother and the father. You may not have gone through the physical aspects that Y/N did, but you were still there. It was your baby that you lost too.”

This much he knew. It was the thought that was constantly in the back of his head, desperately trying to trigger all the emotions he’d been repressing.

“You both need to heal, Spence,” she said softly, “Because it’s much harder to fix a broken relationship when both people are just as broken.”

With that, she left him with his thoughts.

If he thought the day would get any better, it didn’t.

Y/N wasn’t home when he came home that night. It was after 10 p.m. when she finally stumbled in, drunk.

“Where were you?”

Spencer had been worried. If it weren’t for the fact that all her clothes and belongings were still in the house, he would’ve thought that she’d left him. Even after that irrational thought, he was worried for her well being.

“Like you care,” she mumbled, stumbling as she kicked her heels off.

“If you checked your phone, you would see I called and text you dozens of times asking where you were!” he said, exasperated.

“I went out for a drink,” was all the explanation she gave.

“Clearly you had more than one,” he mumbled.

“I’m an adult, I can,” she huffed, “Besides it’s not like I’m pregnant or anything.”

He couldn’t help it. He winced at her remark. It cut deeper than he cared to admit.

“You’re drunk.”

“Wow, aren’t you a smart one?”

The sarcasm dropped from her tongue like honey.

“Go get changed. I’m gonna make you some coffee so you can sober up.”

He rubbed his forehead, already tired of this argument. It wasn’t even a bad one at that. It just showed how drained he’d become lately, mentally and emotionally.

“I don’t need your help,” she mumbled, heading down the hallway to the bedroom, “I’m going to bed.”

She may not have needed his help, but he was there with her all night as she vomited in the toilet almost every hour. He held her hair back and rubbed her back.

Her drunken tears, he knew, were a true reflection of her sober emotional state.

When it seemed like she would be able to keep something down, he fetched her a bottle of water and two ibuprofen to fend off the hangover she was sure to have in the morning.

The day had finally ended, finally becoming a day in the past.

As he finally laid down to sleep that night, he felt like another piece of him had crumbled away. He wasn’t sure how much more of himself there was to break.

He slept on the couch that night. It was the first of many nights there.

•

Seven Months

Spencer found himself paying more and more attention to children around him.

He couldn’t deny it anymore. He so desperately wanted to be a father.

He wanted to hear the sweet baby gurgles and baby talk. He wanted to hear them say dada for the first time. He wanted to see them begin to crawl, learn to walk, turn from baby to toddler, from toddler to child.

He wanted to hear the patter of feet and the peals of happy laughter as they played. He wanted to be greeted by his kids running for him when he walked in the door from work. He wanted to read them bedtime stories and take them for ice cream.

He wanted to play with them and cuddle them and hear them say I love you daddy.

Most of all, he wanted that with Y/N.

As hard as things had become, he still couldn’t picture himself loving anyone like he loved her.

Cases with children were getting tougher for him to shut out after they had solved it. It was hard to see parents with their children.

He was angry at the world. He wanted to know why he hadn’t been good enough to be a father already.

What if it was because he wasn’t home enough? Or because his job was too dangerous?

The baby would’ve been roughly a month old now. It would’ve lost some of its birth weight to gain it back again, its features would be steadily changing every day, looking a little bit different than it had the day before.

It would probably start smiling a little bit by now, even be aware of the sights and sounds around it.

If only things had been different.

•

Eight Months

Life had slowly begun to fall apart around him.

If Spencer thought he’d felt numb before, then this was what that had been, but ten times worse.

He went through the motions of life on autopilot.

Work.

Home.

Sleep.

Repeat.

He shut out his friends, not bothering to return calls. Lying about how he was, how things were, just to appease them.

After an almost fatal mistake on his part on a current case, Emily told him to take some time off.

It wasn’t a suggestion either.

It had been months since things were amicable with Y/N. Sometimes it felt like the way their relationship previously was had been in another lifetime.

He couldn’t remember the last time they’d said I love you to each other.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d kissed her or held her.

He couldn’t remember the last time he felt normal.

Alone at home for an unknown amount of time, Spencer was forced to acknowledge something.

He was broken.

•

Nine Months

Things seemed to have made a bit of improvement. The time away from work surprisingly seemed to help a bit.

Y/N seemed to be in a better headspace than she had been. Maybe not completely great, but they were speaking again.

It was tentative at first. It was something as simple as asking if he needed anything at the grocery store.

“I don’t think so,” he answered honestly.

“Well I was thinking of making chicken cacciatore for dinner tonight,” she said softly.

That caught his attention. It was one of his favorite dishes of hers.

Whether it was a peace offering or an olive branch of sorts, he decided he wasn’t going to press his luck and accept it.

“That sounds good.”

He offered a small smile, one which she returned.

That night, they ate dinner in the same room together, actually at the kitchen table. They weren’t hiding away in different rooms, passing one another like ghosts, but were actually enjoying each other’s company again.

No serious stuff was discussed.

They talked about how his work was going and how her part time job as a secretary was going—she’d gotten a part time job shortly before the incident, not because of money, but something to do. He hadn’t been the only one diving into work a lot more in the past months. Most of the time when she hadn’t been home, she had been at work, volunteering to take on extra hours.

It was kind of sad when Spencer thought about it. How they both volunteered to do extra work just so they could avoid each other and the elephant in the room.

They talked about the new season of a show they’d begun watching ages ago, how they needed to watch it. Whether they actually would or not was yet to be seen.

At the end of the day, it was a step in the right direction for them. Maybe things would get better after all.

•

Ten Months

Spencer should’ve known better than anyone as a profiler that when you ignore trauma, you ignore pain, it will only manifest itself. Sometimes the smallest thing can trigger it and when, not if, it’s triggered, it’s like a dam breaking.

That was what happened approximately ten months post incident.

He was a pro at focusing his attention on anything other than things that desperately needed to be dealt with.

That was how he found himself searching for the wrapping paper, offering to wrap some presents for her family.

It was now December, the year almost ready to end. In a way, he was relieved to leave this year in the soon to be past.

He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but it had been the worst year of his life.

Rustling through the junk of clothes and other things in the bedroom closet, he had no luck finding any wrapping paper.

What he did find was enough to make his breath catch in his throat.

He stared at it for a few beats before deciding to pick it up and look at it. With unsteady hands, he reached for the crinkled and slightly dusty shopping bag.

Reaching in, he pulled out the baby shoes, resting them both in the palm of his hand.

They still looked as brand new as the day he bought them. Pristine, black and tiny as ever.

That was when the dam broke as did the wall around his heart.

In the ten months following, he hadn’t shed a single tear, first believing he had no right to. Then later on ignoring his pain before his anger set in to turn into complete numbness.

But now, the tears came.

He sank down on the bed, clutching the shoes in his hands, holding them tight against his chest. Sobs wracked his body, the pain unraveling in him layer by layer.

He had never felt such deep pain. He now understood why people said the loss of a child was one of the hardest things, if not hardest thing they ever dealt with.

He cried for the little boy or girl he wished every day that he’d been able to meet.

He’d cried for the baby that would never wear the shoes that he bought and held now.

He cried for the unfairness of the situation.

He cried for the shambles of his relationship, fearful that he might not be able to fix it.

He cried because he’d held on to his pain for far too long.

He cried because he was afraid he’d never feel whole again.

•

Eleven Months

His breakdown before Christmas hadn’t fixed everything, but it had made him feel a bit better.

He no longer held onto the initial searing pain that should’ve been released long ago and it was like a weight off his shoulders.

He still hurt, he still grieved, he still needed to talk about it, but at least he was headed on the right path toward healing.

Spencer had decided what he had to do before Christmas, but decided to wait until after the holidays to act on it.

Christmas had been low key, just the two of them staying at home and exchanging gifts.

He got her some perfume, a novel she’d been wanting to read and a gift card to her favorite store.

She’d given him a Doctor Who figurine he’d been searching for forever, a beautiful edition of War and Peace he’d lusted over ages ago and a new watch.

It was amazing how even though they’d spent most of the year so far apart, they still knew each other well, as if nothing had happened.

It was still a bittersweet day though. He could imagine how different life would have looked if they’d had their little four month old child here with them to celebrate.

He saw the pain in her face, but said nothing.

He knew how she felt.

It was New Years Eve when Y/N found Spencer sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee before the sun was even up.

“We need to talk,” Spencer said.

“Okay,” she sounded uncertain.

He motioned for her to sit down and she obeyed.

“We need to stop doing this,” he said.

“Doing what?”

“This,” he motioned between the two of them, “Ignoring everything. Acting like it didn’t happen. We need to talk about the miscarriage.”

He didn’t miss her flinch.

“I can’t. You know that,” she said.

“You need to,” he stressed, “I need to, Y/N.”

“No,” she shook her head vehemently, “I can’t and I won’t.”

“Dammit, Y/N!”

His palm slapped the table hard enough to rattle his coffee cup and make her jump.

It wasn’t often that he lost his temper, usually when he did, it was for a good reason. But when he was angry, he was angry.

“You’re not the only one who lost a baby!” he hollered, “Do you honestly think this hasn’t been hard for me too?! This last year has been shit for me as well! I almost lost my job because I made such an obvious mistake that I could’ve died as a result of my mind being in such a bad place! You’ve hardly spoken to me other than to fight with me for a majority of this year! How do you think that makes me feel?! I tried my best to help but you didn’t want it. I tried everything I could to fix you, but it just made things worse! I’ve been through hell too, Y/N, I hurt too! I wish every single day that we didn’t lose our baby. So I’m fucking sorry if I finally am tired of hurting and want to get better by simply talking about it!”

He was breathing hard by the time he’d finished his rant, his chest rising and falling quickly with his rapid breaths.

Y/N was frozen and staring at him. He wasn’t sure if she was upset, mad, stunned or what.

“I’m sorry for losing my temper,” he apologized, in a more normal tone, “But I really think we need to talk about it. This has changed us, Y/N. Surely, you can see that.”

She was still silent.

“Y/N?” he prompted.

“I...I didn’t realize. I mean I knew you were upset but I didn’t even know it was so bad, I…” she trailed off, looking like a lost puppy, before looking back at him, “I want to fix this. I do. But I don’t think I can talk about it.”

He sighed, all the fight completely drained from him. He was so, so tired.

“Then I think I have to leave,” he stated matter of factly.

“Leave?!” she startled, “What do you mean? Not for good, right? Spencer, please, don’t.”

“I don’t know if it’s for good,” he said warily, “All I know is I just have to leave for a while.”

It was the hardest thing he had to do, but he knew he needed to. It was for the best in the long run. He needed time to mend and so did she.

He stood from the table, setting his empty mug in the sink.

“I’m going to be staying with Luke and Penelope for a while if you need me,” Spencer said.

He walked toward the door where his already packed bag sat. He noticed her eyes fall on it, taking in just how serious he was about this.

He took a deep breath and opened the door, leaving a tearful Y/N still at their kitchen table.

It was time to heal.

After all, you can’t fix a broken relationship when you’re as broken as it.

•

Eleven Months

“Hi Spencer, it’s me. Y/N…”

There was a pause in the voicemail message.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I know voicemail isn’t exactly the place to be apologizing, but I had to say it first before I say everything else and I won’t stop apologizing anyway. But, um, I just wanted to call you and tell you that I wanted to talk to you. Well more like I need to talk to you. If you have time that is. I miss you.”

There was another, shorter pause.

“I love you.”

Spencer’s lips curled just the slightest, hearing the three words he hadn’t heard in so long.

“Bye.”

The voicemail ended, but he held the phone to his ear for a little longer before he pulled it away and pocketed it.

It had been three weeks since he’d left.

He tried not to be disheartened when several days had gone by without any contact from her, then a week, then two.

Penelope had assured him that she needed time to fix herself too, just like he had been working on.

He still had a long way to go, but he was making improvements.

He had profusely apologized to his friends for shutting them out for so long. He dove into his work with new determination, not just to distract him, but because it’s what he enjoyed doing.

He even talked briefly to Luke and Penelope about the whole ordeal, even including the part of his breakdown before Christmas and the shoes.

Suddenly, the world started to look less bleak.

Then today he was surprised to see a missed call and voicemail from Y/N. He had missed her too, so much.

He missed how they used to be, too.

He tried hard not to, but he found himself hoping against hope that maybe, possibly, things could eventually be okay.

Spencer paused before opening the door of their house. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. He had no idea what to expect.

He walked in, almost anticipating Y/N to be sitting there, waiting for him. It was odd how much of a stranger he felt in his own home. In fact, he had to stop himself from knocking just a moment ago.

Y/N was nowhere in sight. He walked into the living room, not sure if he should go looking for her, or what. He’d never felt at such a loss.

“Spence, hi.”

He turned at her voice, noticing her just approaching the doorway to the living room from the hallway.

She looked good. The best she’d looked in months. She was dressed in fresh clothes, her hair down and brushed, a small smile on her lips.

“Hey.”

His heart had fluttered at the sight of her. He loved her so much; that he couldn’t deny.

“You, uh, wanted to talk?” he asked, nervously.

She nodded, indicating for him to sit on the couch.

It was only then that he saw the tiny converse sitting on the coffee table. He couldn’t explain his reaction to seeing them, other than a sense of grief.

“Where did you find those?” he asked.

“Under the bed. I stumbled upon them when I was changing the sheets.”

He faintly remembered the last time he’d seen them, stashing them under the bed after his sobs had subsided. He wasn’t necessarily hiding them, he felt more like keeping them close by. He had forgotten about that.

Spencer didn’t say anything, he just stared at the shoes before looking up at Y/N, tears glistening in his eyes.

“That was your surprise for me and the baby, wasn’t it?” she asked softly.

“You remember that?”

He didn’t know if the choke of emotion he felt in his chest came from the fact she remembered that or that she’d actually mentioned the baby.

“I couldn’t forget it.”

They were silent for a moment.

“Spencer? I’m ready to talk about it.”

He looked up from his lap where his gaze had fallen moments earlier, trying to conceal his emotions.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded.

“You were right. I needed to do this a long time ago, but I’m ready now. I just don’t know where to start.”

She smiled sadly, fidgeting with the couch pillow that she’d rested in her lap, as if it were her life vest to survive this conversation.

“It’s okay,” he assured her, reaching out tentatively to touch her hand, “I’ll be right here the entire time. Just start at the beginning.”

She looked up at him, her hand shifting into his, interlocking their fingers together before she began.

“I started cramping that day,” she said hesitantly, “Probably around the time you got up to get ready for work.”

“You never told me that,” he said.

“I know,” she nodded, “At first it was because I didn’t think it was serious, I mean some cramping is normal in a healthy pregnancy. I thought that’s what it was. Then after everything happened...well you know, everything got so complicated.”

Spencer nodded, staying quiet. He squeezed her hand gently to let her know that he was listening.

“Anyway, I laid down after you left. I didn’t have work that day, so I thought maybe resting would help it. When I woke, they’d eased off enough to be just a mild nuisance. I mean, I’ve had period cramps that were worse.”

His heart broke listening to her recount what was the worst day of her life. He knew it had to be so tough for her to finally do this and he was so proud that she was finally getting it all out.

“The day passed like that. The cramps got worse by bedtime, so I thought I’d just use the heating pad for a little bit before going to sleep. I had started spotting then. Again, I wasn’t alarmed. That’s another symptom of early pregnancy, sometimes you spot a little. I went to sleep.”

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself to talk about the next part.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’m here,” Spencer whispered, his thumb running along her hand in an attempt to comfort her.

“I can’t remember what woke me up exactly,” Y/N continued, her voice beginning to wobble, “I’m not sure if it was the cramps or the sense of dread because somehow, I felt both. I noticed my legs and the bed sheets felt a bit wet and I turned on the light. I caught a glance at the clock around that time. It was 1:27 a.m. That’s when I saw the blood.”

Tears formed in his eyes. Tears already were falling from her eyes.

“I was so scared, Spencer,” she said in a scratchy whisper, “I think deep down I knew it was happening, but I didn’t want to admit it. It was only when the doctor at the hospital confirmed it that it finally sank in.”

His tears were falling now as well. He remembered that fateful trip to the hospital all too well. His world felt like it had turned upside down.

It was then he realized that his unhealthy grieving process had begun, right there in that hospital room.

“Then I had to have the D&C. I know I was anesthetized, but still just knowing that I had to have this foreign object being shoved up me to scrape out any remnants of this baby that I failed to keep alive.”

She was bawling now. Her shoulders shook as her body racked with her sobs. Spencer pulled her towards him out of habit, regardless that they hadn’t embraced like this for so long. It was just so normal of him to do it, that he didn’t even give it a second thought.

He held her close as she cried into his chest. Her hands clutched his shirt, her tears completely soaking it. He didn’t even care that it was one of his nicer work shirts, he just hugged her tighter, as if he couldn’t get close enough to her.

“It’s not your fault, Y/N,” he murmured, gently rocking her back and forth in his arms, kissing her head, “It was never your fault.”

She sat back, disconnecting their embrace and wiped at her eyes, sniffling.

“I know that now. But it’s my fault for pushing you away. I isolated you, didn’t consider your feelings, wasn’t there for you. I’m the one who ruined our relationship.”

Even though she’d attempted to wipe her eyes, it had been a useless gesture. More tears fell again as she blamed herself.

“I’m so sorry Spencer. I’m so sorry.”

“It was my fault too,” he said, putting his hands on her face, thumbs wiping away her tears.

“I didn’t know what to say to you. I didn’t try hard enough. I tried to fix you when I couldn’t even fix myself. I’m just as much to blame for our problems and I’m sorry,” Spencer said.

She leaned her face into one of his hands.

“I talked to you. Please talk to me. I wanna know how you’re feeling. I care about how you’re feeling too, even though my actions haven’t conveyed that lately.”

He smiled a bit, dropping his hands from her face and beginning to fidget. It’d been a long time since he’d felt this vulnerable in front of someone, especially Y/N.

“Spence?”

He looked up at her. He could see the understanding in her eyes. She understood the turmoil roiling in him. She was silently telling him that he could lay his heart out for her.

So that’s what he did.

“It felt like the entire world collapsed around me,” he mumbled.

“I was so excited to be a dad. Obviously,” he gave a humorless chuckle, “I had the idea of buying the matching shoes for the baby. I thought I’d surprise you.”

“I love them,” she smiled at him, “I love that you did that.”

“I thought for the first couple of months that I had no right to grieve. You were the one who actually experienced it, so I tried to be strong,” he sighed, resignedly.

“Spencer you-”

He shook his head, cutting her off.

“Please, just let me finish or I won’t be able to get this out.”

She nodded, understandingly.

“That’s when I started blocking it out. I tried helping you, I buried myself in work just trying to forget. To avoid what I was feeling. I started having dreams during the summer.”

He saw the quizzical look on her face, not sure if she should ask aloud what he meant in fear that if she interrupted, he wouldn’t finish.

“I had these dreams where usually it was me and you with our baby. Sometimes it was a boy, sometimes it was a girl. It was always different scenarios, but like average activities, just with a child. You making breakfast while I fed our daughter, me taking our son to the park. It differed from dream to dream how old the child was, but it was all the same kinds of dreams.”

“Around that time anger sat in. After the failed support group visit I was more and more tempted to yell at you that I lost a baby too.”

Involuntarily, his lower lip began to tremble. He felt horrible admitting to that.

“I wish you had. I deserved to be yelled at. I deserved you being angry at me,” she winced.

“No, you didn’t. I feel bad for even admitting that I constantly wanted to yell at you. You were hurting too, Y/N. But it wasn’t just you that I was mad at. I was mad at the world. I was mad at the people who were lucky enough to be parents. It got harder and harder to deal with cases that involved kids or talk to people during cases that had kids. Some people I saw shouldn’t have had kids, they weren’t fit to be parents. I found myself wondering why they were given the gift of new little lives, yet we weren’t.”

He took a deep breath, feeling winded after his sudden ramble.

“I pushed away people too. I pushed you away because I stopped trying to help. I figured I wasn’t going to help anyway. I pushed away JJ, Luke, Garcia, the entire team. All they wanted to do was to help me and I didn’t want to be helped.”

She gave a small half grin, the corner of her mouth quirky slightly, not really a happy smile, more of a melancholy one.

“I guess we had that in common.”

Spencer realized just how much grief they could’ve saved each other if they’d both had been willing to help themselves first. But the past was the past and he wanted things to be different from here on out.

“I found the shoes before Christmas. I had hidden them after stumbling upon them not long after the miscarriage. I didn’t want to see them, I didn’t want to think about them. It was too painful. But I found them again and it’s like the grief just finally broke free of the wall I had built around it, in hopes it would go away. I think I cried for more than thirty minutes, just clutching them. After that, things felt a bit easier. Obviously everything wasn’t perfect, but I needed to finally grieve. I hadn’t cried once in all those months up until that day.”

It was her turn to hug him tightly. Spencer held on to her like she was his lifeline, which in a way, she was.

“Spencer, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry you had to deal with that all alone. I will never be able to apologize enough,” she mumbled into his shoulder.

“I don’t understand why it happened, but it happened for a reason,” she said in a gentle tone, “But I don’t want to be broken anymore. I don’t want us to be broken. I’ve done an awful job of showing it, but I love you more than words can describe, Spencer Reid. I don’t want to live life without you by my side.”

It was probably the hundredth time they’d both cried during this conversation, but Spencer supposed it was expected.

He pulled away, looking down at her. The sincerity rang true in her eyes.

He leaned down, his lips like a wisp of a feather as they brushed against hers. He kissed her again, more firmly this time, but still relatively gentle. It was hard to tell whose tears were whose as they seemed to run together.

When they parted, he gave a small laugh amazed at how much lighter he finally felt, at how long it’d been since they’d actually kissed, since they’d actually talked. Suddenly, for the first time in a long time, things finally felt like they would be okay.

They were both a sniffling mess with tear stained faces along with red rimmed eyes, but they were actually smiling.

“I wouldn’t want to experience life without you by my side either, Y/N,” Spencer finally said when he’d regained the composure to do so, “I love you so damn much.”

They talked for hours, well into the night. They had so much to talk about, so much to share with one another.

But the most comforting thought was the knowledge they both could finally begin to heal; as individuals and as one.

•

Twelve Months

It’s ironic how the one year anniversary of the miscarriage was probably the best day yet of their recovery.

The initial conversation Spencer and Y/N had wasn’t the last one. Many more followed. Hardly a day went by when they didn’t have a conversation about it or mention it in some sort of way.

The atmosphere was lighter, their moods brighter, their mental health and relationship in a much better place than it had been.

They often had extended conversations about what they thought their angel baby would’ve been like, who they would’ve looked like. This time it was with less heartache and more wonder.

Spencer had finally admitted something that had been weighing on his mind though he wasn’t sure if he should share it with her. He told her that even though it didn’t go the way they had expected it to, he was thankful and grateful for the time they had had with Peanut.

The miscarriage had tested them and their relationship in ways they couldn’t have ever expected. Somehow, they had made it out of that dark tunnel through to the other side. They’d gotten through it and it had made their relationship stronger.

Even though it had only been a short time they’d had with this baby, it was more than none at all. Y/N had agreed. They had grown as individuals and grown as a couple over the last twelve months.

Other conversations regarding their loss were talked about too. They still wanted kids, they still intended on having them, but they’d decided they weren’t going to actively try.

If it was meant to happen anytime soon, it would happen. If not, that was okay too.

It had been a mutual decision that they wanted to wait while they worked to better themselves and their relationship. They would be parents one day, just not today.

Spencer couldn’t help compare how different things were now than they were a year ago. It seemed finally, they were at peace.

Grief was a strange thing. Sometimes it brought people closer together, other times it pushed them apart. In some cases, it could do both.

Y/N had refused to put the converse away in a closet or a drawer until they were needed.

She once didn’t want to remember, but now she didn’t want to forget. Spencer couldn’t have agreed more.

Now, the baby shoes sat on the dresser in their bedroom on display. It was a reminder of what they lost, but of what was to come. It was a reminder of what they’d been through, but to also remind them not to dwell anymore.

There was no reason to hold on to the pain like they had done for so long. They would always remember, but they’d no longer let it consume them entirely.

There, the baby shoes now sat, in hopes to one day be filled with tiny baby feet.

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destiniesfic · 4 years

Photo

132 Hours, Chapter 5:

If I die out here alone, for nothing, I will feel so incredibly stupid.

Note: There is a content warning this chapter for a brief mention of past attempted sexual assault. The mention comes near the end of the chapter.

Read chapter 5 on AO3, or read below:

Despite the damp cool of the basement, I am warm when I finally blink my eyes open to the dim morning light. Cardan has curled up at my back.

Alpha blood tends to run hot, they say. It plays into the general myth that we are opposites in every way: alphas hot, omegas cold; alphas strong, omegas weak; alphas dominant, omegas submissive, and so on. Scientifically the hot-cold theory has a little backing, though we’re talking an average temperature difference of 0.2 to 0.5 degrees max. But with Cardan so close to me, practically radiating heat, I am almost inclined to believe it.

We’re not touching too much. He has sort of nestled his face into the juncture of my neck and shoulder, and if I hadn’t slept in my sweatshirt I could probably feel his eyelashes tickle my skin. His hand found the curve of my waist in the night. But that’s it. The rest of him is a few inches away, like even in sleep he finds it difficult to overcome his revulsion to me.

It’s almost comfortable, if I forget who I am and who he is. Not even what I am and what he is, because Madoc’s position means that if any handsome, eligible alpha bachelors deigned to outright marry an omega, as he had once married our mother, Taryn and I would be the best of the bunch—best-connected, best-educated, best-groomed. No, it’s that he is Cardan and I am Jude, and I have hated him ever since my body put itself at war with my brain, and he has hated me too, just because I was afforded some small amount of privilege without being born into it.

And still, I stay there for a minute, soaking up his warmth. Because I didn’t think I’d have this anytime soon. I didn’t think I’d get to wake up next to a boy cuddling me, not after what happened with Valerian and definitely not after what happened with Locke. And even though these are the worst circumstances, and this is the worst boy, there’s something perversely nice about it.

Or maybe I just like things that are bad for me.

I was thinking of seeing if girls were better when I got to college, but they don’t really explain how alpha-omega girl sex works in school and I am not about to ask Vivi. And now I don’t know if I’ll even make it to college, so maybe it’s not so bad if I steal a moment of peace.

But then the stink of mildew cuts through Cardan’s rich sweet-musky-boy scent and I am forcibly reminded of where we are and why, especially now of all times, I can’t afford to be soft. So I jam my elbow back into his side, and if I do it with maybe a little less force than I normally would, well, it’s not like he knows that.

Cardan awakens with a start. “Ow!” he says, rolling over onto his back and pressing a hand to his side. “What the hell!”

“You’re fine.” I sit up, take down my now grody ponytail, run my fingers through it and begin to put it up again, watching him out of the corner of my eye. “Today’s the day.”

Cardan scowls at me, rubbing his side.

“Do or die day,” I clarify, looping my elastic around another time. “In case you forgot.”

“I remember,” he huffs. “That mattress is terrible.”

“Well, maybe tonight you’ll get to sleep in your own bed. Or maybe we’ll be dead. Or we’ll be locked in this room again and you can sleep on the floor.”

“Such tempting options. However will I choose?”

I roll my shoulders, trying to work the kinks out of my muscles. “My guess is we’re going to be held up with the police for questioning for a long time. You might not have to. Maybe the choice will be made for you.”

“As always, Duarte, I do so admire your rosy outlook.” Cardan finger-combs his hair and sits up all the way, blinking at me. “I’m still worried about the third guy.”

I don’t tell him that I’d been thinking the same thing. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” I say quietly. “We have two other bridges to cross first.”

Only a minute or so after I say it, there’s that knock on the door. I glance at Cardan, who needs to play the role of alpha today, and wait for him to speak, even though it sucks to defer to him. He takes his time about it, too, stretching his long legs, running his fingers through his hair once more, like he has all the time in the world, like the person on the other end of the door should be so lucky as to strangle him.

Just as I’m about to strangle him, he calls, “Yes?”

The door opens. The scarred man and his gun are there, along with, absurdly, a little paper Starbucks bag in his other hand. An upgrade. He looks at me and Cardan—we’re now both sitting on the mattress, even though we are a few feet apart—but if he has any comments he keeps them to himself. He shakes the bag like he’s trying to call in a wayward dog. “Breakfast.”

“Thanks,” I say, because it is my place to be deferential.

“No coffee?” Cardan asks.

I whip my head around to glare at him. The man grunts, “Didn’t know how you took it.” Disconcertingly, I can’t tell if he has a sense of humor or if he’s serious.

Airily, Cardan says, “Fine. Put it down wherever.”

The scarred man raises both his eyebrows, but he half-sets, half-drops the bag on the floor and backtracks through the door, closing it and leaving us alone. Cardan goes over to retrieve it and peers inside. “Okay, looks like sausage, egg, and cheddar and… turkey bacon?”

I hold out my hand. “Give me the turkey bacon.”

“Oh, thank god,” Cardan says, and this time he doesn’t take a bite out of it before he hands it to me.

“Not a fan of turkey bacon?”

He scowls. “It’s all healthy. Plus, it’s not like turkeys actually have a belly to cut bacon from. You have to grind it up and make it yourself.”

I snort, but am happy for his judgment if it means my breakfast escapes unscathed. It doesn’t surprise me that Cardan couldn’t care less about eating healthily. From what I know, he has a mostly liquid diet, and the liquid is mainly alcohol. Not that it matters much. He probably won’t be able to keep getting away with it after a few more years, but right now his body takes pretty much everything he consumes and uses it to build him more muscle.

I think of how hard I have to strength train for a fraction of what Cardan gains just by existing, and how some of the training shows, especially in my arms and back, but the rest is buried under a cozy layer of body fat, and I kind of want to strangle him again. Just one of the many downsides of being an omega.

Since I don’t have any fun facts about turkey bacon to contribute, we eat breakfast without speaking. We had agreed that it was important to get our strength up for whatever lies ahead, but I find it hard to chew and swallow, even though the sandwich is lukewarm. I end up offering the last half to Cardan, who takes it despite his complaints.

Then, once enough time has passed, he gives me a look, and I nod and stand, shaking my legs out. Instead of staying in my usual corner, I stand next to the door, tense, waiting. With one last glance at me, Cardan strides over and knocks.

We have a system with our captors now. They know that the knocking means we want out for one reason or another. They either call through the door to find out why or just open it right away. This time, the door simply opens. Cardan stays where he is and does not move to the back of the room.

“Hey,” he says. “It’s that time again.”

It’s the woman’s voice I hear, and I am privately thankful. “Okay, back up.”

“But I was hoping I could go first.”

“Back up.”

Cardan takes one step back. It’s now that she realizes that I’m not in my corner. Just a little further, I think. And she gives me the half-step I need.

“What’d you do with your friend?” she asks.

To answer that question, I grab her by her shirt and drag her into the cell.

Surprise is a legitimate advantage, but a fleeting one. Since she’s armed and I’m not, I need to move fast. I don’t have to think much about it. I jam my knee into her stomach; all of the air leaves her lungs in a startled gasp, and her grip loosens on the gun. I pry it from her hand with one of mine and use the other, still fisted into her shirt, to pull her further into the room—and let go.

It only takes a few seconds. I dart out. Cardan has already gone ahead, as I told him to, and I pull the door to behind me, quickly twisting the lock on the knob. That was phase one.

“Um, Jude,” says Cardan.

I turn, raising my stolen pistol in front of me before I do anything else, finger resting dangerously near the trigger. The scarred man stands on the other side of the table, his gun also raised. But instead of aiming it at Cardan, as we thought he would, he is pointing that barrel at me.

“This is a surprise,” he says.

Behind me, the doorknob rattles as the woman realizes I’ve locked her in.

“Let her out,” the man tells us, voice steady and slow.

“Or what?” I ask. Somehow, my voice doesn’t shake. “We’re both armed. Let us go and I won’t shoot you.”

“Do you even know how to use that thing?” he asks.

“What do you think?”

He cocks his head to look me over, evaluate my posture, my steady grip. “Huh,” he says, and then he moves to point his gun at Cardan instead. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Cardan’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. “I’ll only ask nicely one more time.”

I snort. “Sure. Do me the favor.”

The scarred man raises an eyebrow. Cardan whispers, “Jude?” like he isn’t sure whether or not I am playing a game. I am not sure either. I am intoxicated by the adrenaline pulsing through me.

“We’re not friends,” I clarify. “Shoot him if you want.”

Cardan gives me a panicked look.

“Of course, if you’ve promised to give him back alive, that’s going to cause some trouble.” My palm is sweaty. I shift my grip on the gun. The knob rattles again at my back, and I hear a soft curse, a hand slamming on the door. “It’s your call.”

The man’s lip curls into a kind of terrible smile. “All right, girl,” he says. “You go free. He stays. Leave the gun on the top step.”

I blink. “Really?”

“Final offer.”

I should go right away. Instead, I glance at Cardan, who has gone pale. But he looks at me again, and then, defying all my understanding of him, he whispers, “Go, Jude.”

So I do. Slowly, my entire body quivering with tension, I walk backwards up the stairs, keeping my pistol trained on the scarred man until the last possible moment. I try the knob at the top, and find it unlocked. It seems too easy, but with one last, stomach-churning glimpse of Cardan’s white face, I flee. But I don’t do everything. I do not give up the gun.

The house I step into has obviously long been abandoned—it was probably never even finished. Some of the walls have gaping holes in the plaster, the support beams visible; some were never plastered at all. There is no furniture to speak of. I don’t linger to take it in. I start running, through a hallway, in the direction of what might be the front door. When I find it, I tumble out into bright morning sunlight, and I keep going.

Immediately I know I am well and truly in the middle of nowhere. All around me is a field of overgrown grass. If there is a road, I cannot see or hear it. Still, I have to assume there was once a driveway that led somewhere, so I take off as fast as I can toward a distant line of trees. I do not wonder about Cardan. I do not wonder about anything.

For a minute it is just me, my feet flattening the dew-damp grass, my lungs straining with every breath. I am alone in a way that I haven’t been in days. Then there is a crack from behind me, and then I feel something rush past my face, just missing me. Startled, I drop the stolen pistol, which lands harmlessly in the grass and thankfully does not fire. I don’t stop running for it. Stopping is the last thing I should do, not when I am so close.

Still, my stomach drops. Without slowing too much, I glance over my shoulder back at the house. The second floor is half-intact, and I can kind of see through the wall—there might be a dark shape perched there. A man. The third man.

He’s a sniper.

I swear under my breath, and my panicked heart skips a beat. They chose this place on purpose. There’s no cover out here, giving them a clear view of whoever might be coming or going. Giving them time to move us in case the cavalry arrived. My only choices are to keep running until I am out of range, or stop, and go back. And I am not doing that.

If I die out here alone, for nothing, I will feel so incredibly stupid.

There’s another crack, now unmistakably the sound of a rifle being fired, and this time I feel when it hits—really more of a graze, but it still skims through my flesh about midway up my calf, leaving a tear in its wake. The strange thing is that, at first, being shot doesn’t hurt at all. It doesn’t feel like much of anything. It shouldn’t be enough to make me miss my step. I falter anyway, and when I bring my foot down I land on it wrong and roll my ankle. I drop with a cry into the grass, tears stinging the corner of my eyes.

But even then I keep going, crawling on my hands and knees through the long summer grass, blinking back my tears because I refuse to let myself cry. I don’t look at my ankle or my wound. It is only when I hear the grass crunching underfoot behind me, and a shadow falls over me, that I finally, finally stop moving forward.

I don’t stop fighting, though. The man—Cardan had described him as tall, and he was right—picks me up with some effort and, without a word, throws me over his shoulder like a sack of garbage. After adjusting me a little so my weight is more evenly distributed, he turns to carry me back to the house. All the time I am squirming, trying to kick, pounding at his back with my fists, screaming with the faint hope that someone might hear me. It isn’t enough to get the sniper to loosen his grip on my waist, but I do feel him wince in pain a couple of times, giving me some small, bitter satisfaction.

All I think is, I shouldn’t have dropped the gun.

Despair begins to set in as we reenter the unfinished house, as the sniper shoulders his way through the door to the basement and carries me down the stairs. Cardan is seated in a chair, rumpled but seemingly unharmed, his hands behind his back. Apparently, someone has bothered to tie him up or handcuff him this time. He sits forward when he sees me carried in. “Jude?”

“Are you sure he’s the alpha?” the sniper asks his companions. “He seems to have gone easy on you.” He deposits me into another chair, and the woman is there immediately to cuff my hands, threading the handcuff chain through the chair back so I am well and truly stuck. I see that some of my blood has soaked into the sniper’s black shirt and think, Good. My leg is starting to hurt now, in throbs, like a bad burn.

“You shot her?” Cardan asks, straining against his bonds.

“I’m fine,” I say, avoiding his gaze. I cannot believe he would do something as stupid as give himself up so I could go free. I look at my wounded calf, streaked red. There is an angry-looking tear there, but it could have been much worse. He didn’t hit bone. “It’s a graze.”

“Because he’s good at his job,” says the scarred man.

The sniper shakes his head and disappears into the room beyond the bathroom. He returns with a first aid kit and begins to stoop down next to me so he can clean my calf, but I raise my foot, threatening to kick him again.

“That’s enough,” the scarred man says. “Believe it or not, we don’t want to hurt you kids.”

“Not,” I mutter under my breath.

“Hurting you wasn’t part of the remit unless you misbehaved,” says the sniper. “Is that more believable?”

I scowl and hold out my leg so that he can clean the wound. Cardan’s eyes narrow. “We can’t just trust you,” he says, as a stinging antiseptic pad is applied to the torn skin and I flinch. “We don’t even know who you are. Give us something. Names. Something to call you.”

The scarred man and the woman look at each other. The woman says, “You can call me the Bomb. This is the Roach. That—” She points to the sniper. “Is the Ghost. You can figure out why for yourself.”

“You call yourself the Roach?” Cardan asks. “Wow. I mean, love yourself a little.”

To my surprise, the man grins. “Not my choice, but we don’t get to choose. How’s her leg?”

“The twisted ankle is going to give her the most trouble,” the Ghost replies. He presses a clean cotton pad to the wound and binds it in gauze. Then he starts on wrapping my ankle. He’s efficient; he’s done this before. “Although I’m guessing we don’t want her mobile anyway.”

“I wouldn’t mind if she taught me a couple of moves,” the Bomb says, rubbing her stomach. I wonder if I bruised her. “What was that, karate?”

“Krav maga,” I admit, glaring at the Ghost as he props my foot up on the nearest empty chair. Ignoring me, he stands and leaves to wash his hands. “I’ve been training since I was nine.”

The Roach lets out a low whistle. “Someone didn’t want you getting jumped.”

I turn my glare on him. “For all the good it did me.”

For reasons I don’t understand, the Roach grins and holds up his hands. “This? This is just a paperwork dispute. Once everything’s signed and sealed, we’ll turn you loose.”

“Lot of hassle for some paperwork,” Cardan remarks. “You could have just let Jude go if it isn’t that big of a deal.”

“I’m starting to see it,” the Bomb says to the Ghost. “Although, yeah, I could have sworn the girl was the alpha too for a second there.”

And if that isn’t absurd enough, Cardan leans toward me across the table and asks, “Did they teach you how to slip handcuffs in krav maga school?”

“Do you want to dislocate your thumbs?” the Ghost asks abruptly, reemerging from the bathroom.

I give Cardan a shrug and a nod—that is how to do it—and he shudders.

“Look, we know just about everything there is to know about this guy,” says the Roach, pulling out the last empty chair and sitting across from me. “But now I’m curious about you.”

I blink. “There’s not much to say.”

“He has quite a file on him,” says the Bomb, jerking her head to indicate Cardan, who pulls an innocent face. “But you were nowhere in it. We thought you were a bystander, a fling, or maybe his new girlfriend—”

“His what?” I squawk.

“But you’re way more interesting than that,” the Roach concludes. “Cardan told us this whole little escape plan was yours.”

The Ghost, for his part, leans against the wall, folds his arms over his chest, and says nothing. I decide I would like him best except for the part where he shot me.

“Why don’t you just let Cardan tell my life story, then?” I snap, angry at everything and everyone.

“Gladly,” Cardan says, looking a little too gleeful. “Jude Duarte was born with a chip on her shoulder. She’s glaring about ninety percent of the time and never lets her guard down, ever. As far as I know, she’s only gotten drunk once. She and her sister were the first omegas to graduate from our school, and Jude staged a coup by being named valedictorian, too, as if being first at just one thing wasn’t good enough. Our last semester, she gave a kid a black eye and got him expelled.”

“Why?” The Bomb asks. “What did he do?”

Cardan lapses into an embarrassed silence that I don’t really understand. Valerian had been his friend, once. Maybe still is. I say casually, “He tried to do what alphas always do,” like I don’t still feel the awful weight on top of me, the cheekbone cracking under my knuckles. “So I did what I had to.”

“They expel kids for that now?” asks the Roach. “Huh. Good on them.”

“Jude’s dad made a persuasive case,” Cardan says.

They exchange bemused glances. The Ghost asks, “Who’s her dad?”

Cardan and I look at each other across the table. They really don’t know.

“My adoptive father,” I clarify, because it matters. “He’s a lawyer. Uh, his last name’s Madoc?”

“Oh,” says the Roach. “Shit.”

#jurdan #judecardan #jude x cardan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #tfota #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #the folk of the air #jurdan fanfic #mine: fic #fic: 132 hours

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miss-kittys-magical-library · 4 years

Text

Into The Mystic

(Leon x Honey one shot)

Warnings: smut and fluff

A/N: Honey and Leon get what some people don't, another chance at their first time. It's my birthday, and I'll continue getting my faves laid if I want to!!

Leon felt uneasy about their move to Manhattan. Honey had spent several years on the run from the FBI. But she slipped her old neighborhood on like the coat he bought her their first Christmas. It was warm and familiar to her.

Leon, on the other hand, was anxious. He still looked over his shoulder the last few weeks. He was unable to let go of the idea that they were squared up with both organizations. Honey and Kidman got them to out bet one another based on all the documents Leon had hidden in his belongings when they left London after.. Not only were they clear, they got to keep the money. But not without an ominous warning that the couple might owe them a favor in the future.

In The Village, Honey and Leon's flat was spacious. They had a massive kitchen and living area. A clawfoot bathtub and shower and both of them could spend time together without banging elbows. There were two bedrooms and a walk-in closet. A room too large for an only child like Selina, but there was hope more kids may one day follow. There was a fire escape for plants and smoking weed late after the little one went down. Most importantly, they had a king sized bed and a master room they never had to split with anyone.

Leon sat on the edge of their giant bed and waited for Honey. Whatever it was she was doing in the closet. He waited for her with patience for the last year, the last few weeks, these last hours until Selina went for her nap.

Despite being together again, he hadn’t actually been WITH Honey. He forgot how much he loved sex with her. He was always too high since she and her pregnancy left London for India. He stayed faithful and wanked to the photos she left behind. Or the erotic letters she wrote. So much had happened, he settled for her kisses and held her while she slept.

“Fuck yeah! I found them! Ok just a few more minutes, alright. Sugar did a number on my body, not sure if they’ll fit.” Honey shouted out at Leon from the depths of the closet.

“Your body is quite lovely,” Leon claimed. “All soft curves ‘n’ such. You haven't given me a go at seeing you proper naked since everything. I miss it. Bring it out here, lemme get a toss in?”

“That's what I'm trying to do, you knob!” Honey waved a hand from inside the closet. Her arm covered in leopard print. “I'm just nervous is all.”

Leon's eyebrows raised, “You taking the piss? Honey Comb, nervous about sex. With me? I reckon you're the sexy one between the two of us, yeah? Those hips and tits, like a sculpture. Bloody hell I'm built like a baby deer. You made me shave, and I look like a mental teenager.”

“Fuck’s sake, Leon! You look exactly like you did the day we met. That's what is doing me in. Of course I've got nerves, we haven't had sex in over a year. It's like, our second first time or something.”

He never thought of it like that, but she was right. They were getting reacquainted. Having to adjust to new roles as parents and partners. Leon had to adjust, Honey had six months on him with the baby. It was gobsmacking how quickly she settled in as his number one thought. How his brain now switched automatically from having sex with missus to his daughter.

Selina with her big, dark eyes like Mummy, but Leon's wild curls. The way she hardly fussed and loved being bound up to his chest as they walked the city. She would stare at him and tilt her head around to make sure Honey was still there too. Then she would smile around her pacifier, and that was Leon's too. A much better picture to fill his head at night than the agent with an axe protruding from his back and dead bodies he stepped over as they hurried away.

Leon clenched his eyes shut from the memory. He inhaled deep and exhaled slow, but his hand trembled with a craving for opium or or anything. Except he went cold turkey the moment they got in the back seat of that Mustang Kidman stole. He was clean, except the odd joint. Honey said that wasn't the same, it calmed his nerves. Healthier than a head shrinker.

“Close your eyes, alright?! I had to set up the record player. God I hope watching my godmother paid off.”

Leon obliged, “Done!”

He could sense Honey in front of the bed as the music started. A giant, dopey grin spread across Leon's face when he opened his eyes, “Alright, doll.” He leaned back to watch.

Honey started to twist her body to the ground with her back to him. She held the leopard coat tight around herself as her hips started to sway to and fro hidden by the giant jacket. She opened one side to reveal a bare shoulder that she rolled to the music. Then repeated again with her other shoulder before she dropped the coat enough to show her bare back right above where a bra strap would be. Leon bit down hard on his lip.

Honey covered herself and spun to face her partner. She opened the jacket to reveal a strapless bra, high waisted black panties and thigh highs held up by a garter belt. Leon squirmed in his spot when she placed a foot beside him on the edge of their bed.

Her hips never stopped their movement as she unsnapped one stocking and started to roll it over her leg and over her knee. She stepped out of it and hung it over Leon's shoulder. She switched to the other side and placed that foot beside Leon now. He grabbed her ankle, but she slapped at him playfully and shook her head. Her finger wagged back and forth.

Now Honey leaned her body forward like she was going to sit in Leon's lap. It was so quick, he almost lost balance. She did this rhythmically a few times before presenting her garter belt to him and gestured he undo this one. He was all too happy.

Leon started to pull the nylon forward once it was freed. He palmed the soft skin of Honey's inner thigh and the back of her calf as she let him take this side off. He couldn't help bending to kiss the same spot on her body where his hand had been. She didn't stop him as his lips trailed her knee and calf. In fact she forgot herself when he looked up at her with his bright, verdant eyes.

“Stop!” Honey’s cheeks were pink and hot with embarrassment. “You're making me forget what I'm doing! I'm trying to make this special for you.”

Leon’s hands traveled up Honey’s hips and waist and splayed out along her back under the fur coat. He buried his face between her breasts and showered them with kisses that moved down. His fingers alternated between massaging her back and backside all while his tongue traced the line in the center of her stomach and dipped teasingly into her navel.

“We have a daughter together. I'm your husband, and you’re my wife. Blimey, you chose me for some reason. That's the biggest mystery of this bloody universe.”

Honey’s fingers tangled and untangled and tangled again throughout Leon's hair. She melted her body into his as he spoke. She held his head to her chest. “What's a mystery?”

Leon unhooked her bra with little effort. It fell to the floor so he could lose himself one more time in her cleavage. This time his hot mouthsucked on her hardened nipple. He switched to the other and teased it with his tongue. Honey's grip tighter on the back of his head as she urged him back towards her stomach.

“That you love me,” Leon’s response muffled. He bit at the waistband of her panties and tugged it down and off with her help.

Honey was naked under the big coat and stood exposed to her husband. A body she wouldn't show him the last few weeks. Leon drew her foot back up to the bed. His eyes gawked at her breasts and her stomach and her pubic hair. She couldn't tell what he was thinking, but all of her own thoughts rushed out of her head when he suddenly slid two fingers inside her.

“Fuck!” Honey cried out and dug her nails into Leon's shoulder.

He dove them in and out of her body. Hooked them just a bit and kept pumping at the wetness and her slit. His eyes on her sex as he did it almost fascinated by how deep they went. His middle finger found her clit which he fondled momentarily before he replaced his fingers with his mouth and tongue.

Leon flicked his tongue back and forth like a snake. He held Honey's backside and pulled her onto his face. His mouth and tongue worked together to elicit cries of pleasure from the woman in his arms. It goaded him into going faster until he knew she couldn't take anymore. He withdrew his tongue and sat back to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. A satisfactory grin dimpled his cheek.

Honey got her hands on Leon's boxers and yanked them down and off. She went to take the coat off but he shook his head. His eyes begged her to leave it on. So she did as she straddled his willowy body and took his cock in her hand. She positioned it just outside her entrance and teased the head with it. She ran it just outside and Leon agonized in her grip.

“Honey,” that familiar drawn out whine like music to her ears before she sank down onto him.

Leon's hands splayed out across Honey's back once more as she started to ride him. Her hips undulated back in time with the rhythm of the record that had started over in the background. Arms draped in a lackadaisical fashion over his shoulders.

Leon raised his hips to just immerse himself inside her walls as she bucked on his lap. His hands on Honey's waist to aid in the powerful back and forth motion.

Neither was sure if it was the build up or how long it had been since their last time, but Leon didn't last. That was ok Honey kept reassuring him as he let go of everything and came. A tremble coursed through Leon as she hugged him tightly, both their hearts beat wildly and out of control. Honey didn’t cum, and that was alright too.

Then Selina began crying from the other room, and Honey's breasts started to leak milk on instinct. Leon's chest was wet, and he held his wife back to stare at them as they did the other function boobs were meant to perform.

“Right on,” he said simply with a nod of his head.

Honey stopped being mortified right then of the way it looked, or the things her body was doing because of the baby. Their baby.

This sweet, intelligent, passive, lithe, sexy man beneath her with the eyes like moss and angled jaw and fuzzy eyebrows and messy hair wanted her. Leon would always want Honey. At 23. At 25. At 36 and 43 and 57. For now they were just getting re-started.

Tag list: @robertsheehanownsmyass @elliethesuperfruitlover @frogs--are--bitches @super-unpredictable98 @slutforrobbiebro @badsext @nightmonsters @bisexualnathanyoung @rob-private

#robert sheehan #robert sheehan character fics #leon #leon x honey

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jobrookekarev · 4 years

Text

He's Wrapped Around Her Finger

Chapter: 1/1

Words: 3500

Summary: While Jo’s sleeping Alex gets to know his newborn daughter and settles into the role of Dad.

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy.

Relationship: Alex Karev/Jo Wilson.

Characters: Alex Karev, Jo Wilson Karev, Helena Karev, and Meredith Grey.

Rating: General Audiences.

Additional Tags: Babies, Baby Care, Fluff, It’s so fluffy I'm going to die, Alex being a Dad, Alex and Jo being smitten with their daughter, Blood Mentioned.

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

AN: 3 fanfics in a week who is she! Also I had to Google what color the indicator line on diapers were because I remembered it was yellow at the start, but I didn't remember what color it would turn when it was wet so that how long it’s been since I changed a diaper.

……………………………………………………………………

“Helena Meredith Karev born on November 26th at 5:36 am at 21 inches long and weighing at 8 lb 15 oz., just 1 oz short of 9 lb,” Alex announced as he spoke to Meredith on the phone.

“1 oz. short of 9 lb wow,” Meredith said in astonishment. “How's Jo recovering?”

“She's doing good. She and the baby are asleep right now.”

Alex looks over at the bassinet that was parked next to Jo's bed. Jo slept on her side with one hand in the bassinet on their daughter's chest. Jo’s abandonment issues had come up earlier and Alex noticed she was having a hard time letting Helena out of her sight. Her hand on Helena's chest in the bassinet was how Jo maintained contact with her daughter while getting some much needed rest.

“Good, now promise me you'll never tell Jo that her daughter almost weighed 9 lb. at birth,” Meredith insisted with a little laugh.

“What? Why not?” Alex said confused as he looked over the little note card posted on Helena's bassinet that listed her weight and other details. “Jo knows how much she weighs.”

“Yeah, Jo knows Helena weighs 8 lb. and 15 oz., but when you say she almost weighs 9 lb it isn’t the same thing. Thinking of your baby as 8 lb vs 9 lb is different. No woman likes to be remembered how big their baby was and how hard it was to push them out unless you want Helena to be an only child.”

“Okay, I promise to say she weighs 8 lb. and 14oz. whenever Jo asks,” Alex said rolling his eyes at Meredith as he watched Jo shift in her sleep so her legs were more apart.

Watching Jo be in excruciating amounts of pain as she labored was hard for him, but he pushed it aside to be there to support his wife. Jo’s pain was to the point of which she was completely out of it, just going through the motions as she pushed their daughter into the world. Alex had watched quite a few women give birth, but it was different because it was Jo. He loved her and he hated seeing her in pain knowing that he had partially caused it.

When they had discussed having kids, Alex knew it would include a painful labor and that it would be hard on Jo and her body. Despite her training as an OB and numerous birth classes they had gone to, Jo didn't realize she was in labor until she was in active labor and they had to rush to the hospital. Alex knew that because of this experience Jo may not want to get pregnant again. If that was her decision, he would abide by it. Alex was happy because he was so absolutely content with the little girl in front of him.

“Congratulations, Alex,” Meredith said, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“You said that already,” Alex said although he didn't mind hearing it again.

“Yeah well, I'm going to say it again. Have you texted Cristina yet?”

“No, not yet and we haven't talked to too many people, apart from the video call earlier, I’ve just talked to you and my mom. It's hard to find the time. I just keep staring at her, and thank you Meredith for everything.”

“You mean for waking you up so you didn't miss your wife's labor, you're welcome.”

“Yeah that especially,” Alex said as he couldn't help but chuckle as he remembered the chaotic events of that morning. “I'll talk to you later, bye”

“Bye.”

Alex put away his phone and settled into the uncomfortable chair next to Jo’s bed. He thought that they'd make these chairs more comfortable considering that most second parents and family members usually ended up spending the night there, but apparently not. He would have to check the budget and see if they could upgrade the chairs. Despite how he was no longer the chief of surgery, Alex learned a lot, and he still occasionally found himself reverting to taking care of the business side of the hospital. Alex shuffled around trying to get comfortable but clearly, he was not sleeping in this chair that afternoon.

Alex watched over his girl. He smiled at the thought, his girls, he had a daughter. He had a child of his own and oh how he was in love with her. Helena squealed in the bassinet throwing her arms around and Alex was up in an instant. Her tiny face squished even further as she let out a single cry. Jo stirred next to her and he felt like he was in the middle of a complicated surgery.

Alex was quick to slip his hand under Helena as he took Jo's hand and put it next to her. He was cautious so as not to wake his sleeping wife and let her get the rest she deserved while also soothing their newborn. As soon as he put down Jo's hand and moved to cradle Helena, he stopped for a moment. Jo sighed but didn't move or wake up and he looked down at Helena who cried out again. Helena spread out her arms and continued to fuss. After a certain number of years, soothing babies became instinctual and Alex started to sway and shush.

“Shh, Shh, it's okay, Daddy's got you.” Alex smiled down at her as she stopped fussing and opened her eyes to look up at him.

Helena studied him for a moment, staring into his soul in the way only a baby could before she decided this wasn't what she wanted, and cried out again in that little uh fussy cry.

“Okay, okay,” Alex said, he looked back to the chair before he sat down and laid Helena on his knees. He undid the blanket intending to redo it into a proper swaddle. “Oh, I see what it is.”

Alex saw the full diaper and the blue line that indicated she had her first wet diaper. He was weirdly proud about it especially as it meant that her kidneys were functioning well and she was hydrated. “Okay, give me a second.”

Alex cradled her close to his chest as he got up and walked over to the drawers where they kept wipes and diapers. He got the supplies and went over to the changing table in the bathroom. He propped the door open in case Jo woke up as he didn't want her to panic when they were gone and got the changing table open.

“You know, I promised your mom I’d do all of these diaper changes since she carried you for nine months, basically built you from scratch, and just now endured quite a few hours of labor with you. She wanted an epidural you know, but she didn’t realize she was in labor. You gotta remind me to tease her about that later, but not until after her stitches heal, and you were eager to get here too huh?” Alex said to Helena as she continued to fuss a little bit more as he quickly changed her and got her settled in a fresh diaper.

Alex staring down at her as he pulled down the onesie Jo had put on her. He knew Jo like the ‘little turkey’ onesie, but it had buttons and buttons were always a struggle, even for a seasoned Ped’s doctor like he was. Alex resisted the urge to grab the other baby gown or even the one with the zippers as he finally did the last button.

“There we go, are we happy now?” Alex asked, Helena looked around and was content and wiggled around. He wrapped her up into a proper swaddle before he picked her up again, but she looked up at him and then cried out again, still not happy. “I know, I am not-mom right now aren't I.”

Alex quietly talked to her as he settled her in his arms and walked back into the room. He sat down in the recliner and started to rock back and forth. “I'm not-Mom. I'm not what you want, I know, we don't know each other yet, although you might recognize my voice. I've read you lots of stories while you were still in your mommy's belly. I even did a little bit of singing too, but don't tell anyone around here that.”

Alex settled into the movement of the chair as he looked down at Helena. She had stopped fussing and stared up at him again, seeming to take him in as she listened to his voice and he took that as a cue to continue.

“I guess now would be the proper time for an introduction. I'm your dad, most people call me Alex or Dr. Karev around here at the hospital. Your mom calls me Alex too, but she drags it out a little in a way that's pretty adorable. Your Aunt Cristina is going to call me Evil Spawn and your Auntie Mare might do it too. You've met her already, although you probably didn't notice. She was on the video called when you were born, but I remember how you and your mom only had eyes for each other. Your mom and I, we don't have a big bio family, but we do have lots of friends and they're our family. They all love you so much already, especially your cousin Ellis.”

Alex rambled off to her as Helena just watched him, and he took in his daughter. He never really saw familiar features in newborns. They always just looked similar, like babies and not much else. The features really didn’t come in until they were a little older and then you could say they look like one parent or the other. Yet, as Alex looked down at Helena he saw his chin and his crooked lips in the way that she frowned as she cried. She looked like Jo too, she had Jo’s cute little cheeks and her eyes. Although she looked like an even mix of them now, he could tell that she was going to be a little tiny Jo running around their house. They joked about how they'd never be able to say no to their kid, and Alex knew that with just one look from Helena and he would melt like snow in the sun. His daughter would always be the bright spot in his day.

Helena's eyes started to droop, but she would occasionally blink them open. As if she was fighting sleep as much as Jo did. “You are already so much like your mother. She does that same thing too, you know. When we watch movies on the couch with Reese's, you haven't met him yet and he just knows you as the thing that keeps him from sitting on Mommy's lap. It might be a while before you two become friends, but you’ll like him too.”

Alex rocked her as she fell asleep in his arms and it made him feel some weird sense of accomplishment because his kid fell asleep in his arms. He knew from experience that getting a baby back to sleep was no easy feat. He continued to hold her, not ready to put her back down again. He wasn't sure if he'd ever be ready to put her down and he knew why Jo was hesitant to do so as well. He just sat there and rocked his daughter and held her and patted her back.

“Anyway, Saturday nights are movie nights and your Mommy always curls up in my lap and puts her head on my chest. She always says she'll stay up and watch the whole movie,” Alex said as he leaned closer to whisper to Helena. “But she never does.”

“That's not true,” Jo whispered and Alex looked up to see her smile from where she was curled up in bed.

She must have been watching them for a little while and he smiled back at her. A sense of relief filled his mind as she had woken up without panicking for the first time and he tried to remain calm as he smiled back at her.

“It is true, you always fall asleep just, like clockwork before the end credits.”

“I didn't fall asleep when we watched that one really bad horror movie.”

“Yeah because it scared the crap out of you. I had to turn it off because you started crying.”

“No, we had to turn it off because Reeses wouldn't stop barking at it.”

“Okay Princess,” Alex said, smiling as she raised her eyebrows at him and he chuckled as he got up and walked over to sit on her bed. The second he sat down Jo reached out, and he thought she was going to take Helena, but instead, she smacked the side of his arm. “Hey, I've got precious cargo here.”

“She’s fine and you can't use our daughter as a shield to protect you against my wrath,” Jo teased with a smirk of her own. She carefully sat up and Alex's smile faded as she grimaced when she moved.

“Is your ice pack still cold? Do you want me to get you a new one or something?”

“No, I think I bled through the pad again.”

Jo pulled back the blankets and he was relieved to see that there were no bloodstains on the sheets. Jo carefully got up out of bed and Alex put Helena down in the bassinet.

“No, just hold her, I’ll be fine,” Jo said, waving him off.

“Jo, let me take care of you,” Alex insisted as he watched Helena for a second to see if she’d fuss before he went over to help his wife.

Alex put his arm around her and grabbed the IV pole as they took small and wide steps over to the bathroom. Jo let go of his waist as she stepped into the bathroom and grabbed the peri bottle and her other supplies. Alex got out a new ice pad and activated it, shaking it up before he felt it cool in his hand. He handed it to her before she waved him off again.

“Just let me help you, Jo. I know it hurts you to whip and…”

“Alex,” Jo said, slightly annoyed as she cut him off. “You can change our daughter's diapers, not mine. I got this.”

“Are you sure, because honestly, I don't mind,” Alex argued, he wasn't sure how much she would let him take care of her, but he wanted to do this for her. If she let them.

“Alex, today multiple people, several of whom are my coworkers, have seen me naked on a bed pushing out a baby. I need a moment of privacy,” Jo said, holding her hand out to block him from coming close.

Alex nodded and took a step back. He made a big thing about covering his eyes and turned around to go back out into the room, bumping into the doorway as Jo laughed behind him. He smiled as it didn't hurt that much and hearing her laugh after her tears earlier felt good. Alex rubbed his forehead as he went back into the room and picked up Helena again, knowing Jo would want to hold her the second she was back in bed.

Alex looked down at her and smiled, completely smitten. From the moment Jo told him she was pregnant, he was over the moon. He had seen how parents had fallen in love with their child and he felt that love the moment Jo was pregnant. The moment Carina had placed their daughter on Jo’s chest. It was like his heart burst with love and happiness. It was so overwhelming and utterly consuming. He loved his daughter more than he could describe.

He had taken care of babies his entire life. His mom had started to slip just after Amber turned one so the majority of her care fell to him. He practically raised Amber and Aaron until they were all put in foster care. After Amber got sick and had to go to the hospital and the state finally stepped in. After that, he took care of his mom throughout high school and college up until the day he got the job and flew out to the then Seattle Grace Hospital. Even then he sent money and hired someone to check on her. When it came to his career, he wanted to go into plastics, but somehow he ended up in Peds and he was good there.

He took care of thousands of babies over the years and in caring for them he loved them. Alex watched their parents love them more than anything in the world, and he got a bit of that love when it came to Meredith’s kids. They were his nieces and nephew and he loved them like they were his own because they were family, but he still didn't experience the kind of love a parent had for their child, until the moment his child was there. It was all he could think about. She was all-consuming in a way that he could just stare at her for hours.

It wasn't until he really succeeded at being a Peds doctor that he knew he could be a dad. Even though it still terrified him. Every injured kid that walked through the door he could see being his kid. He went home to Jo and put his hands on her belly and he worried. Alex worried about all the possible complications, diseases, and injuries that their kids could get. Even now staring down at her, he knew she was perfect. Her APGAR score was a 10, she had good reflexes, and she was eating and wetting her diapers, and she was perfect, but he still worried. He was so lost in thought that he even noticed Jo had come up behind him until she pressed up against him and they stared down at their daughter.

“She's perfect, Alex,” Jo whispered to him, kissing his cheek. She had always been able to since his worries.

“Yeah, she is,” Alex said as he put his arm around her as they both stared at Helena completely in awe of their daughter.

Jo moved to get back in bed and Alex helped her up, despite how she protested. After she was settled, Alex placed Helena in her arms before Jo could even ask.

“Thank you,” Jo whispered, cradling her close.

They both continued to stare down at her and Alex sat back down in the chair and scooted closer to their bedside. Helena’s little eyes fluttered open, but she didn't cry as she stared up at Jo who smiled down at her. Completely smitten as well.

“Yeah, that’s Mommy isn’t it,” Alex said reaching out and putting his hand on Jo’s knee. Jo didn't even glance up at him, she just smiled down at Helena.

In the past nine months, he had watched Jo go through so many emotions, as he watched her become a mother. Everything she did was to care for their daughter. He knew that Jo was terrified about becoming a mom when they first started talking about kids years ago. She knew the heartache of a bad childhood because she lived it. She was terrified of her genes and she wanted a career first so he waited patiently for her to be ready.

Watching her with their daughter in just the past few hours Alex thought she was the best mom in the world, although he might be a little biased. Jo was so good with her, the second Helena fussed or cried, Jo would pick her up. She was so attentive to their daughter and so loving, Alex couldn't help but just watch them together.

“Daddy is staring at us,” Jo giggled as she looked up and caught him.

Alex smiled completely unashamed. “What can I say, I'm awestruck by the two beautiful girls in front of me, my girls.”

“Your girls,” Jo smiled before she realized something and giggled. “Alex Karev has a daughter.”

“Oh God,” Alex said, putting a hand over his face as he realized the karmic payback that was coming to him.

“With your luck, she’ll probably be crazy for whatever gender she ends up liking,” Jo laughed putting her hand on his arm as the color drained from his face.

“No, no, she is a baby. We're not talking about this,” Alex said, shaking his head.

“She's not going to be a baby forever,” Jo said as she tilted her head and smiled at him, clearly enjoying torturing him.

“No, but she is a baby right now, a newborn and she's going to stay that way,” Alex said looking down at Helena and rubbing her little cheek.

Jo giggled again as she leaned forward and reached her hand out to wrap around his neck and pull in for a kiss. Alex let himself linger on Jo's lips as she smiled against his lips. Helena squealed and they parted with a laugh as they looked down at their daughter who stared up at Jo. Jo traced her finger down Helena’s cheek as she rocked her and Alex smiled at his girls. Yeah, this was perfect.

……………………………………………………………………

AN: On a scale of 1 to 10 how much did this turn you into a pile of mush?

#jo wilson #alex karev #jolex #grey's anatomy #meredith grey #grey's anatomy fanfic #otp: home and heart #my writing #my work #my fanfiction

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lindsaywesker · 3 years

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Good morning! I hope you slept well and feel rested? Currently sitting at a desk, in the Mi-Soul office, attired in standard DJ garb, enjoying my first cuppa of the day. Welcome to the working week! Although, for those of you in the NHS, welcome to just another day!

Happy New Year! I sincerely hope your 2022 gives you everything you pray for, everything you want and everything you need. As you know, my new year’s resolutions are pretty traditional: eat less, walk more. My other resolution is to spend more time with my friends. This is a logistical issue; knowing so many beautiful people is a blessing and curse.

I saw a photo of a disease-spreader protest and someone was holding a sign saying “The virus is a hoax”. Let’s work through the logic. Who runs the country? I mean, who actually runs the country? Not the MPs, as you know, but their donors; without that money, political parties can’t win elections. Who are their donors? The richest people in the UK; the billionaires and multi-billionaires; those that have inherited billions or those that own the biggest companies in the UK. Why would such wealthy and powerful people create a fake virus? Surely a vibrant economy continues the money flowing into their bank accounts? Hard-to-sell homes are being snapped up by the hundred; homes that look like the last turkey in the Christmas shop window are flying off the shelves! The pandemic has driven down house prices; you think wealthy people want that? The pandemic has closed down shops; landlords are sitting on empty properties; you think wealthy people want that? Maybe the disease-spreaders think that wealthy people created the hoax to make billions from the ‘cure’? But what caused 150,000 to die? Flu? I’ve stopped talking to disease-spreaders. It’s a waste of time talking to those without a need to be logical. A friend of mine went to a party, tested positive the next day and is now recovering in isolation at home. She has lost her sense of taste and this is a girl who loves her food! She now eats food to maintain her strength but everything tastes of nothing! Flu does not cause that reaction in the human body. Sadly, those that study at The YouTube School Of Medicine will never understand that.

I am now getting texts telling me to come and get my ‘booster shot’ but I can’t get a suitable AZ appointment day and time. I now learn on the news that lots of people are booking booster appointments and not showing up! Thanks a bunch!

About to sit-in on Mi-Breakfast between 7.00 a.m. and 10.00 a.m. Hope you can join me? Send me messages (and photos!)

Have a marvellous and momentous Monday. I love you all.

#mixcloud #mi soul #lockdown #new blog #dj #music #coronavirus #books #weekend

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foolscapper · 4 years

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Someplace Warmer, Someplace Safer - (How the Wild Things Start Universe)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is not edited/beta'd, so please forgive any rough spots! I'll be cleaning it up and posting it on ao3 at a later time! This also takes place after How the Wild Things Start, and is based on a request sent in by @saintedjack -- thank you!

WARNINGS: PTSD responses, MENTION OF CHILD ABUSE (SEXUAL), please tread carefully if that's hard for you!

In the year of our Lord 2020, Sam Winchester didn't think that Christmas would feel so much less... sore of a spot. Maybe that's because he's practiced a handful of Christmases with Leia and Lilly now and has realized with some clarity that holidays can sometimes be about as good as the number of kids who get excited over it. When it was just him and Dean, it was a coupla beers and memories of little kids who sat in hotel rooms waiting for their parent — singular. Now Lilly is coloring pictures of reindeer and eagerly reminding Dean of what she wants for the hundredth time. ("Yeah, yeah, I got it," Dean grumbles, without even the smallest bit of heat to it, "How could I forget when you drew it on my bedroom wall?") Meanwhile, Leia's fourteen, so the appeal of a 'Santa Claus' isn't really there for her; she and Sam are too alike on that front, having lost whatever magic Christmas would've had when they were very little. But she loves that Lilly loves it. She helps her hang up tinsel and all those basic holiday ornaments around the bunker. When Sam and Dean are out to get the kitsune her dietary needs, she prays to Castiel, makes him trek all the way to Lebanon — just so she can ask him to drive her to the rental box in front of the liquor store for holiday films. Anyway, uh. Sam feels... good. He feels good about it. About Christmas.

First time in forever, he knows, but things evolve over time, right?

Whatever makes them happy makes him happy, and it doesn't help that Dean's starting to get into a bit of a frantic holiday mood himself when he realizes Cas and Leia rented National Lampoon's Holiday Vacation. With one girl on either side of him, his brother chatters on and on about classics, movies like A Christmas Story and the Grinch, and Sam can only roll his eyes in good humor and sound fondness. It's a good day. He hasn't had a nightmare in days — hasn't slept-walked in almost as long (not that it stops Dean from keeping the front door locked, so Sam can't wander out again and scare the shit out of them). It's the day before Christmas, though, and there's plenty of cereal, boxed mac 'n cheese and canned Chef Boyardee, but absolutely nothing that rightfully belongs on a dinner table for the holidays. "I'll be back; just gonna pick up some stuff," he says, while the three are in the middle of Mr. Grinch, you're a bad banana, Mr. Grinch, with the greasy black peel-. Dean snaps out of the trance that had made him 10-years-old for a moment and looks critically at Sam; Lilly doesn't look away from the television, but Leia's sharp gaze shoots to Sam at the same time as Dean's. Dean says, "You sure you don't want us to go, too?" And Sam waves it off. Waves both of them off, since Leia's trying so hard to judge him under her bangs "I'll be fine. Just hitting the grocery for something that works for tomorrow. Please try not to feed them straight sugar while I'm gone?" "Yes, honey," Dean huffs, but there's some hesitance in the way he turns to look back at the TV. He couldn't really blame him, considering what shitty lucky they had apart. Or, well... considering the guilt that still festers in Dean like old, greenish wounds. Sam knows it's there every time his brother glances at pale scars intersecting on his arms, or when he manages to rouse him from a bad dream, or when Sam spaces out at the dinner table until something startles him to attention. Sam's screwed up, and Dean's still gnawing at his own leg for letting it happen. ... Shit happens. Sam tries not to think about it anymore than he has to, because it's not like the muscle memory ever goes away, nor those phantom smells or those reels of the monster rings. No, no, he's not going to think about it. Because today's a good day. It's a good week. He takes the keys to the truck he's kept to himself, makes a mental note to call Castiel and see if he'll stop by for visiting. The air outside is cold and bitterly unfair to the lungs, but he tugs his jacket tighter around himself and wills the old truck AC to start heating him back up. The drive isn't far, and the people at the place he's driving to know him well enough. He's not sure if that's a good or bad thing, especially now that they see him changed so drastically; he's pretty sure Dean just tells them all he'd gotten deployed somewhere and ended up hurt, or something. Sam doesn't bother figuring out the cover story, because he's not ever going to be in the mood to talk about it with Joey Behind the Counter or Leticia Stocking the Shelves, no matter how much he likes them. The bell to the store rings, they wave him in, ask him about his plans for the holidays, tell him all about their kids — he surprises himself by talking about his own, albeit vaguely, because you never know who is truly safe. And even though he has little to no skill in hearty, holiday feasts, he knows the basics from television: cranberry sauce, turkey, stuffing, eggnog, so on and so on. Despite his complaint to Dean not to overfeed the kids on sweets, he ends up grabbing two boxes of themed cookies, too. It's not until he walks out the front door that he feels something's off. He'd never claim to still have the powers he did at age 22, but — the hairs on his neck stand up, goosebumps running along his arms beneath his thick coat. It's hard to say what even caused it; there's nobody around. He glances uneasily left and right, and then makes a slow, cautious walk toward the parking around the corner. His heart thumps in his chest and his mind plays cruel games with him: what if it's a hunter coming for him? Looking for him and his family, after what happened at their old cabin? It hasn't been that long. "Hello," a little, polite voice chirps from seemingly out of nowhere. Sam nearly leaps out of his skin, teeth snapping together as he turns in a fraction of a second — ready to fight, dropping his grocery bags as his hand reaches around the back of him. (Bright lights, feral howls of pain, blood on dirt and black eyed spectators-) His breath catches at the startled teenager with sandy-blonde hair standing in front of him. He's dressed in clothes he's clearly worn for a long time, the knitting on his gloves and cap frayed. The smell of an alleyway greets Sam belatedly, and shame creeps into his face when he realizes just what he's actually looking at here: some homeless kid whose smile has faded into a look of uncertainty. Wanted a buck, but ended up with some over-sized freak having an episode at him. "S—sorry," Sam chokes out. He's trying not to let himself get pulled under, but the lights have... always been so bright. The kid seems appeased by the way Sam steps back, though, and moves to rather calmly start collecting the fallen goods from the ground; for a moment, Sam wonders if he's just gonna take them for the trouble, but the boy starts putting them back into the brown paper bags they'd come in. "It's fine. I must be scarier than I thought." It's said in such an easy way, and he looks up with a kind, gap-toothed smile. "I was going to ask if you could spare some money, but I can see now that I should have made my presence more obvious." ... That's a way for a teenaged boy to put it. It reminds Sam of a particular angel of Thursday and his straightforward, over-complicated way of talk. With a somewhat forced smile, he bends down to quickly collect what the kid hasn't. "No, no, I'm — I'm good at being on edge. It wasn't you. Sorry for... that." He's not sure how to put it. He has a hard time remembering how to talk to people, sometimes. There's something particularly distracting about this one, though. Maybe it's the fact that he's so youthful, covered in dirt and red in the nose. Looks at him like how Leia had — with the hope that Sam can help him. Or is he just projecting? He pinches the bridge of his nose, smiling tiredly. "What's your name, kid?" The boy says, almost proudly, "Jack." "... Um, well. Jack. I'm Sam. It's good to meet you. I think you deserve something nice for not thinking I'm a total weirdo, so... if you wanna carry a bag to the truck for me, I've got some cookies and dollars to offer you?" It feels kind of demeaning in a way, like he's giving the poor kid some basic task to 'earn' what Sam'll give him. But Jack just nods and walks along side him. "Thanks, Sam," Jack says. He says Sam's name like he's testing out the weight of it, forming it carefully in his mouth. Despite Jack's appearance, he radiates something... well, something. It's warmer than the weather. "Where are you from, Jack?" Sam asks, tilting his chin forward to look down. His voice is softer, more careful. "From everywhere," Jack says, and looks over at Sam. "I honestly don't know. I've just always been... like this." "... Homeless?" Sam offers. Jack cocks his head to the side, gazing ahead of them. "Homeless. Yes." It's not a long walk, so it's not like there's much more to talk about before they reach the old truck. They load up the groceries, and Sam provides one box of cookies (in this case, the box that is less crushed from falling on the asphalt). It feels like a meager kind of offering, all things considered. "Here — I mean, if you like sweets. I bought way too many, so... Um. And — " "I like cookies," Jack says as a matter-of-factly. "Thank you, Sam." Doesn't feel good enough, though. Sam gnaws his lip and feels... some sort of way about all this. Like he's doing something the wrong way, here. Leia and Lilly have ruined him for life. "Where are you heading, anyway? Do you live in town? I've never seen you here before." Jack's already got the box of cookies wrenched open, and he's eating them too fast, a lot like how Sam used to eat his rations when he lived in a cage, in the dark. Sam's already predicting that he's gonna get sick, and he can't really hide the wince as the crumbs start to collect on Jack's old jacket. Jack looks like he's unsure how to answer, not for the first time. "I'm just moving around. I have nowhere to be, as long as it's — " He struggles for the right word. "Safe." "Safe," Sam says. Jack nods with a mouthful. "Shafe," he says. Sams hands twitch nervously at the thought of sending the boy away with his 'rewards'. Whatever the hell cookies constitute as, anyway. It's not safe out there, that's for sure. It's gonna be below freezing for a while in Lebanon, and — He sighs softly. No... No, it's not smart. Not smart to being a stray into a house full of supernatural lore books, weapons, monster children. He would freak out. He'd panic and he'd know where they live, and he could tell anyone with an ear open about where a guy named Sam lives with his odd little family. But... "You want me to drive you somewhere? I mean, there should be a homeless shelter around here somewhere, if you need somewhere a little less... this." He gestures to the world around them, swathed in a fine layer of snow. Jack seems mildly uncertain, a crooked line of uncertainty to his lips. Sam recognizes maybe he looks like he's one-half a serial killer in his plaid, with his weird flinching and nervousness. "You don't have to, but... I don't want you to freeze out here." After a moment, Jack does seem to relent; nobody likes to be cold, and Sam could tell even if he was handling it well, it was not a pleasant experience he wants to endure any longer than he has to. So he nods at last, and Sam nods to the passenger seat. "Climb aboard, then. I think I remember the street and everything; you'll be warm in no time. And, uh. We can get you something better than cookies, actually." "I don't know what can be better than cookies," Jack replies, sliding into the passenger seat, "But I'm willing to consider it." The truck stutters to life, and Sam makes a beeline for the nearest Taco Bell there is. Cheap, but you get a hell of a lot with a little; he and Dean were no stranger to that particular drive-thru back in the day, when Dean was too tired to eat expired food and Sam was too tired to go buy himself a decent salad and sandwich. The Helping Hands Homeless Shelter is a good distance, so Sam learns a few things in-between Jack scarfing down burritos and soft tacos: he's fourteen or fifteen (he thinks?; Sam's mortified by the thought of him being on his own all this time), his mother died when he was born, he's not sure where his father is, and he's always been moving. No grandparents, no uncles or aunts, nobody that he's familiar with. Once the last wrapper is thrown on the floorboard as designated, though, Jack looks uneasy. "... Is this 'a trade'?" Sam glances over, brow furrowed. "A what?" "A trade," Jack reaffirms, and his eyes — glance down, towards Sam's crotch. Sam feels like he's going to puke, his stomach twisting and heart lurching. He almost slams on the brakes then and there, in the middle of the street, but he manages to avoid doing anything so fucking stupid as to scare the kid. Sam and Dean have both had their fair share of close calls growing up — Sam's had to scream at peeping toms through hotel windows, or weird men at gas stations who keep sizing them up while they read magazines, or — But. But they both had rules, and Dean always had an extra eye out on him. The thought of — the implication of it, it makes his blood boil, rushing in his ears. He thinks of Lilly and Leia and — Sam's been quiet too long. So Jack speaks up again. "It's alright. I don't do anything if they don't ask first. If they don't have something to give me," Jack says, confidently, and Sam wants to scream. "No," Sam manages, voice tight. "No, that's not okay. Anyone who asks something like that, they're monsters, do you understand me? They're evil, and you shouldn't trust them. Not for a second." Jack leans back more comfortably in his seat, confused — but glad. Sam's hands are itching for a blade and someone to hunt. A monster in a ring to rip into. He breathes out instead and looks at the road. It doesn't take long before Jack finds himself tired of the quiet, though, and his gaze moves to Sam's wrists, instead. His hands. The sliver of arm that peaks out under his sleeve. "What happened to your hands?" he asks, innocently. Concerned. Sam's shoulders sag, like the kid has gone and popped that balloon full of rage. "... Monsters hurt me, too," he says weakly, because he figures the kid deserves the truth. "A different kind of monster, but monsters all the same." Jack reaches over, and Sam startles at the hand cupping over his damaged knuckles. "I'm sorry," Jack says. "About the monsters." Sam kind of wants to cry, honestly. "Me, too." He was supposed to get a Christmas dinner, in and out of the store, nothing more to it. He was supposed to just give the kid some money and maybe a snack. He's supposed to just drop him off somewhere a little warmer and safer. (Leia looked at him like a hero, once, like he was going to swoop in and save her; Jack isn't looking at him like that, though; he's just a guy giving him a ride and cookies). Sam's phone rings. He doesn't need to look to know it'll say DEAN in white letters on the screen. Just a minute 'til they get to the shelter. (You're not a hero, you barely managed to protect your girls, he reminds himself.) "Sam?" Jack asks. Ring, ring. Ring, ring. (But Leia looks at him like he’s a superhero. A shaking, high, rabid superhero, hopped up on demon blood, with hands so tense and locked, they look like claws in the darkness. And beside her — a crying boy, a few years younger than her. There’s a burn on his leg, a shake of his shoulders. Worst of all, there’s skin sloughed off around him, and it’s only then that Sam realizes the boy looks different than he had an hour before. A shifter? A small, scared shifter. Like Glenda had been.) He pulls over on the side of the road. Reaches into his jacket pocket, retrieves the phone with a shaking hand. When he answers Dean and hears his brother asking nervously what's taking him so long, he can't help but look at Jack. Jack, who is looking at him with an uneasy amount of trust. How he has it, Sam's not fucking sure, but he feels like he has to do this. (He thinks of two little girls, holding hands as they watch Christmas cartoons.) "I — I'm bringing someone back with me," he manages. "His name is Jack, and he — needs a place to stay, for a little while." He does a u-turn, driving toward the bunker as snow begins to fall once again, soft, delicate. Jack looked awed, still looks awed. He looks at Sam like this was destiny. Fate. Something. "I thought so." "... You thought what?" Jack smiles slowly with that warm, gap-toothed smile. "That something about you, it felt like an angel."

#spn #supernatural #spn fanfiction #sam winchester #jack kline #dean winchester #cw child abuse mention #cw csa mention #cw ptsd descriptions #how the wild things start #myspnfanfic

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kaiparker-avengerssmut · 4 years

Text

CURSED: CHAPTER TEN

"the angels never arrived"

Kai Parker x OC!Mack Grace

Series synopsis: "We're both cursed, in a way."

We all know the story of Kai Parker, but he once lived in a very different life. Do you ever wonder what that life looked like?

Chapter summary: Christmas get a little...deadly

Warnings: violence, death

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

VIOLENTLY bright and tacky lights were strung through the halls, spare corners and classrooms decorated with paper snowflakes and plastic Christmas trees and the general spirits of student was lifted at least thirty percent by the approaching break. Mack sighed and closed her locker, turning to face Jo as she filled her in on everything that happened when she was away.

"So who's this mystery guy that keeps coming up then?" Jo urged with a raised brown, poking Mack in the side playfully with her elbow.

"Just that. A mystery." Mack retorted, scoffing and rolling her eyes at the overly invested girl.

"A mystery, huh? Well I do love a good problem to solve." Jo teased. "If I can't know who he is, at least tell me what happened." No suggested. After a long pause to mill it over, Mack finally caved.

"Okay, so - don't freak out, but I may have slept with him." Mack all but whispered. Jo cupped her ear with her hand and said:

"What was that? I couldn't hear you." Mack chewed her bottom lips before repeating.

"I slept with him. Twice." Jo's eyes went wide.

"Twice?!" Mack but her lips and nodded. Suddenly an arm was thrown over her shoulder and Mack turned to see a grinning Kai.

"So what's this?" He asked, mock shock on his face.

"Mack finally found a way to forget Ben." Jo stated.

"Ooooo, so Kenz's finally getting some?" Mack rolled her eyes. "It's about time really, I was getting fed up with her cranking attitude and-" he cut off when Mack hit him in the shoulder and he retracted his arm, shooting her a knowing look.

"It's not like that. It was a spur of the moment kind of thing, I doubt it will happen again." She dismissed, giving Kai a warning look.

"If you say so. Hey, this is me. Catch you guys later!" Jo said as they reached her class.

"Won't happen again, huh?" Kai husked lowly in Mack's ear once Jo was gone.

"Yes. So don't try anything." Kai's mischievous grin worried Mack and before she knew it he had grabbed her hand and pulled her into Janitor's closet and pressed her against the closed door.

"Like this?" He whispered, nibbling softly at her earlobe. She put her hands on his chest and pushed Kai back slightly.

"Yes, like this."

"We have a free period, may as well use it." He shot back with arched brows. He stepped closer to her again. "I know you want to." His minty breath fanned over her face, intoxicating her further. Mack looked away, and before he could get another word in she smashed her lips to his, her arms wrapping around his neck.

Kai was taken back at first but he quickly melted into the kiss, bracing a hand on the door beside Mack and his other settled on her hip after running over her curves.

"This is the last time this happens." Mack mumbled against his lips, gasping as Kai picked her up and wrapped her legs around his waist before crashing her back to the door again.

"Okay." He murmured back, knowing full-well it wouldn't be.

...

"So what are you guys doing for Christmas?" Mack wondered aloud as Kai drove her and Jo home.

"Yeah, our family is going to San Francisco to see our cousins." Jo explained. "Well Kai isn't, as usual." she added almost accusingly.

"So you're gonna be on your own for Christmas?" Mack's question was directed at Kai now. he scoffed.

"So?" he seemed completely disinterested. Mack's eyes were wide.

"So?! What are you on about? It's Christmas!" Mack exclaimed, shocked. After a moment of thinking she came up with a solution. "Why don't you join my family for Christmas? It's only my dad, my sister and me but it's normally quite funny and we could always use some extra company." she quickly added, "and you can probably cook better than any of us."

After a moment of no answer Mack spoke again.

"You don't have to, I just didn't think you'd want to be alone. Think about it." She said as Kai pulled up to he house. "Thank you for the lift, bye!" and with that she climbed out Kai's car, slinging her bag over her shoulder and opening her front door.

"Hey dad." she said, dumping her bag on the table and grabbing an apple from the fruit bowel.

"Hey sweetheart." he chimed back, focus still on his notepad in front of him. "have a good day at school? How's Kai?" Mack took a bite of her apple.

"School's..." she trailed off, thinking about the Janator's closet, "fine, I guess. And Kai's good too. Speaking of Kai, can he spend Christmas with us? His family is going away and he'll be alone." Mack put her pleading face on.

"Of course he can, that boy has been a great help to you these past few months and I'd love to finally meet him. Do you want to give him a call?" he suggested, finally looking up from his work.

"I'll call him later. I've got homework to do, so I'll just be up in my room if you need me." Mack said, walking towards the stairs.

"Oh honey," her dad started. she turned back to face him.

"Yeah, dad?"

"Kim's boyfriend is also joining us this year."

"Boyfriend?"

"Yeah, they started going out recently. I think he's younger than her - maybe your age. I am yet to meet him, so she thought Christmas would be the perfect opportunity."

"Okay." Mack walked up the stairs, the cogs of her mind churning, trying to figure out who her sister was dating.

...

"Kai! Finally, I thought you'd never come." Mack greeted cheerfully, smiling widely at Kai would held a few stacked trays covered with tea-towels in his hands.

"And miss seeing you in this little get-up?" He gestured to her red dress and Santa hat, "not a chance in the world, sweetheart." Kai grinned back, placing a quick kiss on her cheek as he walked into the house.

"You must be Kai!" Her Dad said as he saw Kai, Kim taking the plates from him as he mouthed a thank you before returning to her dad.

"Correct. You must be Mr Grace." Kai mentioned, shaking his hand firmly.

"Oh, please call me Ian." Ian waved off, releasing Kai's hand.

"Well, it's good to meet you, Ian. Thank you so much for having me." Kai thanked.

"Oh, it's no big deal. It's nice to have some more company for a change." Ian smiled. Kai turned to Kim.

"Ah, the sister." He said with a tight smile.

"Ah, the boyfriend." She mimicked. Kai had an amused smile at that.

"Not quite, just the best friend for now. I don't think she's quite over-" he was cut off when he heard Mack's horror filled voice whisper.

"Ben." She stood completely frozen, the door wide open and a smirking Ben stood on the other side, a small box tucked under his arm.

"Hey doll, how are you?" He said with a sickeningly cheery smile that made Kai clench his fists. After the moment of awkward silence, Kim walked over, pecking Ben on the lips and taking his hand, leading him into the house.

"So, everyone. Ben is my boyfriend, we started talking a few months ago. And we're really happy." Kim announced, standing hand-in-hand with a grinning Ben. Kai put his hands on Mack's shoulders, looking into her eyes with concern.

"You gonna be okay?" He whispered, thumbs stroking her shoulder soothingly. She swallowed thickly before nodding, still looking straight ahead with a look of emptiness in her eyes. She closed the door, sticky heading towards the sofa and pulling Kai down to sit next to her.

They zoned out the interaction currently happening, Mack's body slumping against Kai until she laid down, her head in his lap. He played with her hair, trying to quell the building anger inside him.

"So, Ben - long time no see?" Ian said with a bright smile and mockingly-sad tone. Ben smiled at the man from where he sat beside Kim, his arm slung over her shoulder.

"Yeah, well, after me and Mack decided to end things, it got lonely for me. Then I bumped into Kim at the diner down the road and we just got to...talking." Ben mused, but Mack could tell by the mischievous glint in his eye they did something, but talking was not it. "And ever since then, we've been practically inseparable." He finished, entwining his hand with Kim's and smiling down at her with warmth, but a dark undertone still lingered in his gaze.

"Well, I hope it isn't awkward between you kids." Ian joked, gesturing from Ben to Mack with his hand, which had a bottle of beer comfortably settled in it. Ben chuckled and Mack forced a smile, but Kai was practically seething, it glare emitting nothing but anger as he shot an icy stare at Ben. Mack noticed this and gently tugged him away.

"We'll go get dinner ready." She said with a small smile as she pulled Kai into the kitchen, slamming the door behind him and looking into his eyes - which remained fixed on the door as his nostrils flared and his face burned crimson. "Hey, hey. Look at me." Mack soothed as she placed her hands on the sides of Kai's face, stroking his cheekbones softly with her thumbs. His gaze broke and he looked down at her, his expression softening at the sight of Mack.

"I'm sorry, Kenz. I just- I can't stand him." Kai seethed and Mack shushed him gently.

"I know, but I need you to stay calm for me." She whispered and he nodded slowly. "Now, how 'bout we get this food ready?" Mack suggested and Kai's anger seemed to melt away at the mention of food, his shoulders relaxing and a wide smile replacing his frown. He leant down, kissing Mack languidly before pulling away and walking over to the oven.

"You do the veg and I'll handle the Turkey?" Kai grinned and Mack smiled warmly.

...

"This is delicious, Kai. Thank you so much for bringing it." Ian commented, mouthful of food as he eagerly wolfed down the plate of Christmas dinner Mack had served him.

"Yeah, I guess you can cook much better than you can throw a punch, huh?" Ben jeered with an amused grin. Mack and Kim grimaced and Kai had to stop himself from dropping his fork. Or stabbing it into Ben's hand, for that matter. Kai looked up at Ben with a fake smile.

"I guess so." He chuckled and Ben followed, the tension melting as they all continued to eat. "But, you know, just for the record." Kai started and Mack put her knife and fork down, burying her face in her hands as Ben raised a brow and Ian looked between the two boys. "I think you're a much better conversationalist than boyfriend." Kai mused.

"And what makes you say that?" Ben prompted.

"Well, from what I can tell you can make it through a whole conversation with out hitting someone, unlike your relationships." Kai snapped and Ian's eyes widened, Ben's jaw ticked and he gripped his fork tightly. "Notting to say to that, sick bastard?" Kai taunted and Ben's jaw clenched and he abruptly stood.

Kai followed soon after. Mack reached out for him, placing a hand on Kai's arm but he shrugged her off. Kim seemed to be frozen and their dad looked completely lost. Ben made the first move, stepping around the table. Kai was soon to copy him but as Ben threw his fist Kai caught it with ease. He smirked at Ben.

"Still wanna tell me I can't throw a punch?" Kai asked with raised brows and Ben's angered face melted into one of fear and he coward away from Kai. "Didn't think so." Kai muttered before twisting Ben's arm round and holding it against his back as Ben cried out in pain. "Now, why don't you leave and stay the fuck away from Kenz, huh? I know how much you like to lay your hands on her.." Kai trailed off and let Ben go, who stumble forward and practically bolted from the house, the door slamming with a bang behind him the reverberated from the walls like thunder.

"Get. Your. Fuck-buddy. Under. Control." Kim spat at Mack before storming off, the sound of the legs of her chair scraping bitterly against the floor was punctuated awkwardly but the slam of the door behind her. A thick tension rose, thick enough that a knife could slice straight through it like it was cutting cheesecake.

"Well.." Ian began but Mack was gone, the last thud of the door causing both Kai and Ian to flinch as the wood smashed against the battered frame.

"I'm sorry-" Kai tried to apologise, turning to face the man but Ian held up a hand, halting Kai's words.

"No. You did the right thing, boy. I can't believe I let that boy in my home - near my daughters!" Ian gritted out and Kai's jaw clenched. "I should have been a better father..." he murmured.

"No." Kai said harshly, making Ian's head snap up to look at him. "You are not at fault. Ben is a vile creature who deserves to rot in hell." Kai spat and Ian nodded. "And if you think you're a bad father, you are strongly mistaken. If you knew how much Kenz appreciates you, you'd-" Kai's little sprang was cut off when a violent buzzing echoed from his pocket. Kai pulled out his pager to see Mack's number and instantly rushed to the phone.

"Kenz? Oh my god, Kenz! You had us worried sick! Where are you? I'll come pick you up-"

"I killed him, Kai. He's - he's dead."

#smut #elena gilbert #image #images #stefan salvatore #the vampire diaries #chris wood #damon salvatore #kol mikaelson #tvd #kai parker fanfic #kai parker image #kai parker x reader #kai parker smut #tvd fanfic

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