#their six year old daughter was the only one brave enough to hold the heart (it was still spasming like it was beating)

[neverendingford]

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[americancowgirl19]

Tommy’s Little Girl

Summary: You’re the most precious thing to Thomas Shelby. So, when a guy comes into your life he isn’t the most supportive.

Warnings: fluff, angst, cursing

Reader: Female Reader

Pairings: Tommy Shelby x Daughter!Reader, Reader x Male Character (H/n = His name, he can be whoever you want)

Word Count: 5,261

A/n: This was a request by an anon - Please can I request that Tommy Shelby’s daughter becomes engaged to a man behind his back and he refuses to acknowledge the engagement while the rest of the family do. After six months, just before the wedding, Tommy finally comes around to the idea... So, I added a few things to this request, I hope you still like it! I was just going to do the scene that the anon requested but I personally love writing who stories and backgrounds and shit so you get to see an entire life at Tommy’s daughter with the request included! Oh, and John doesn’t die cause fuck that.

Masterlist

You were the ultimate daddy’s girl. From the moment you were born you and your father were inseparable. The only thing that tore you apart was the war. You were barely two years old when he went off to serve his country.

When he left he entrusted Polly to look after you. Of course she treated you as if you were her own. She protected you as fiercely as she protected your father, uncles and aunt. Especially when your Aunt Kitty, Kitty Jurossi, showed up demanding that you were to go with her.

Kitty is your mother’s sister. She never approved of Greta being with Tommy. While Tommy taking care of Greta in her final days and loving her as he did was honorable, Kitty knew what kind of man he is. She knew what kind of family he had, what kind of business he partook in. She didn’t want you around them.

Polly always thought it was amusing how Kitty waited until Tommy was out of country to try and collect you. Kitty wrongfully assumed that Polly would just hand you over. Your mother’s sister was lucky she was able to return to her home with her life, especially when she tried to forcefully take you.

You remembered that day very vaguely. You don’t remember what happened but you remembered the yelling, someone grabbing you painfully and how scared you were. Your father had just left you for the longest time in your life and now this woman was trying to take you from the person you considered your mother.

The years without your father were long and unmemorable. When he finally returned home you were five going on six. You waited on the train platform with Polly, Ada and Finn. Polly kept a tight hold on you as the soldiers came off the train and went to their families.

You tried to find him but you were far too short and all of them were wearing the same uniform and cap. You jumped in your spot just itching to run into his arms. It didn’t matter that you didn’t really remember specific details of him. You remembered the feeling you had with him. You remembered being safe and happy with him. You remembered being sad and lonely without him. You’d rather be safe and happy than the other part.

“There they are!” Ada shouts. Your head darts to where she was pointing. When you spotted him not even Polly was able to hold you back.

You remember him shoving his way through the others to get to you. When you were close he dropped to his knees and pulled you into his arms. You clung to him.

Then, just like before he left, the two of you were inseparable once again. The only time you weren’t together was when you were sleeping (although on rough nights you often found your way in his bed) or when he had dangerous Peaky business.

You were the Shelby princess. You were untouchable. You didn’t figure out how much you could get away with until you were older. You could murder his best friend - not that you ever killed anyone - and the longest he’d stay mad at you would be a few hours, a day at most.

Anything you wanted was yours. You were spoiled but you were also kind and generous. You had bratty streaks but who didn’t? You may have been the light of your father’s life but you were John’s partner in crime. Whenever his own kids got too much or he wanted to pick on his brother’s you were the one he came too.

As much as he did truly enjoy spending time with you, John also knew that with you by his side he wouldn’t get into as much trouble as he would without you. All you had to do was give your pretty little smile and bat those eyelashes and Tommy was wrapped around your finger.

Even when your siblings came into the world you were number one. You didn’t exactly like Charlie, not Grace, at first. They stole your father’s attention, something you weren’t used to sharing. Eventually you warmed up to them.

You were sad when Grace died but not nearly to the extreme as your father. His heart break broke your own heart. You felt as if nothing you did eased his pain. In reality, you were the one person keeping him from completely spiraling. He spiraled but just being with you managed to slowly bring him back.

You were a little more welcoming toward Lizzie and then Ruby. By the time Ruby came around you adored Charlie. Ruby quickly wiggled her way into your heart. You became fiercely protective of them. You helped Lizzie with them when Tommy got too busy. When you needed a break you joined your father to the office and he would continue explaining what he did.

To you, life was perfect. You had everything you needed and everything you wanted. Tommy kept you in the business just enough to satisfy you but not enough to put you directly in danger. You didn’t understand a lot of the politics and drama within the family but to you it didn’t matter. You had your family, you had your fun, and life was great.

Then, as you were creeping up on your mid-twenties, you met the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. You were in the market with Lizzie, Polly, and Ruby. You had wandered a bit from the others. There was some jewelry you were looking at when he came over. 

He was tall, muscular, and extremely handsome. He had a boyish smile and a flirtatious personality. It didn’t take you long to also figure out that he was clumsy and adorable. You were instantly hooked.

You two talked (flirted) for longer than you thought. Before you knew it Polly, Lizzie and Ruby were rejoining you. Polly was weary of him but it was obvious that he quickly won Lizzie over.

Much to your displeasure, once the three of them showed up you were quickly whisked away from him. Polly had said it was time to go and not many people were brave enough to argue with her. 

Even on the way home you thought about him. You hoped that you would see him again but you figured it was unlikely.

Word got around about you meeting Mr. Handsome at the market. Your uncles teased you and Ada interrogated you. Your father was oddly quiet on the other hand. He didn’t want to talk about it, so he didn’t. He just hoped that your paths wouldn’t cross again.

Tommy knew you were getting older but that didn’t mean he liked it. He wanted you to stay his little girl for a while longer. He wished you were still small enough to ride on his shoulders and small enough for him to engulf you in his arms. But you were growing into a beautiful young lady. Whether he liked it or not other men were bound to recognize your beauty and seek you out. He had been lucky, for the most part, about your disinterest in dating, but it wasn’t going to last.

Most of the women your age were already married with at least one child. You were content by yourself. You were gaining responsibilities with the business and being your father’s personal helper. Even though you were content you wanted more. You wanted your own family to come home to with your own kids.

Fortunately, for Tommy, you wouldn’t see the boy from the market for quite some time. It had been so long you had forgotten about him. Until suddenly he showed back up.

The Shelby’s were having a night at the fights. You were enjoying yourself. You didn’t get dolled up often but when you did you went all out. You felt beautiful thus making you feel confident. On top of that, everyone knew exactly who you were which meant heads turned in your direction everywhere you went. You felt important, untouchable. 

You sat with your aunt Ada, Aunt Polly, and step mother Lizzie. The three of you were talking amongst yourselves while the boys hollered at the match in front of them. When the fighters changed out you happened to look up and there he was.

Ada had been talking to you but you suddenly stopped listening. He was bigger, more muscular, than you remember. He didn’t seem as clumsy anymore yet he was just as handsome. 

“Y/n,” Ada shouts over the crowd.

“Oh, will you look at that,” Lizzie states looking at who you were staring at.

“Who’s he?” Ada questions. Lizzie reminds her about the guy from the market you had met over a year prior. You continued to ignore them.

Right before the match started his eyes connected with yours. He obviously recognized you. He sent you the same boyish smile he had in the market causing a light blush to come to your cheeks. He bravely sent you a wink before focusing on the fight.

Your eyes remained glued on him with Tommy’s eyes started at you. He had noticed the interaction and didn’t like it in the slightest.

When the match ended, with his unfortunate loss, you excused yourself to the loo. You weren’t fooling anybody. Everyone who paid attention knew where you were going and Tommy had half a mind to stop you when something grabbed his attention. The split second his attention was off of you gave you the time you needed to disappear into the crowd.

“H/n,” You say, standing in the doorway of the locker room. You were slightly nervous - a lot nervous - but you weren’t 100% sober so that helped. His head snapped up at the sound of your voice.

“Y/n,” He says, turning away from his locker and toward you. “Shelby,” He adds. You hadn’t told him who you were. It was obvious he hadn’t known back then and you wanted to keep it that way.

“In the flesh,” You gave him a twirl. “You fought well tonight,”

“I lost,” He deadpanned but didn’t look all that bothered by it..

“Caught me attention,” You told him.

“Guess it wasn’t a complete loss then, aye?” He smirks. “How about you make me a winner tonight and agree to a date?” You blushed.

“I can do that,” You agreed.

From there your relationship blossomed. The two of you fell for each other quickly. He started showing up around the family more. Your uncles hazed him, Ada and Polly constantly interrogated him, and your father silently judged him. No matter how hard you or H/n tried, your father never came around.

H/n didn’t care about Tommy’s disapproval of him. He loved you with all his heart and nobody was going to keep you from him. He may be funny, charismatic and handsome but he knew he was selfish with a side of possessive. In his mind, you were his and he wasn’t letting you go. He would do anything to keep you and to keep you happy.

It honestly was no surprise that less than a year later the two of you were engaged. He had taken you out on a picnic under the stars on a beach. You had dinner, went swimming and had a fire in the sand. While stargazing he proposed with a beautiful ring. You didn’t hesitate to say yes.

The next day, as you two were makin breakfast, you asked how your father handled him asking for permission when H/n told you he never asked. It shocked you that H/n didn’t talk to Tommy first. You knew when it came to your father H/n was a little rebellious but this was different. Honestly, you were a bit upset he didn’t speak with Tommy first. 

It hadn’t even been twenty four hours since your engagement and the two of you were thrown into a fight. A minor one but a fight nonetheless. He didn’t see why it mattered seeing as the two of you were getting married with or without his permission. You argued that it wasn’t his permission you were looking for but your blessing. H/n didn’t understand just how close you and Tommy are but you wished he would at least respect it.

Eventually, he apologized when he finally noticed just how important Tommy’s approval meant to you. You promised H/n that you would marry him no matter what but keeping it from your father was not an option. H/n promised to talk to him.

A few days passed and then a week. H/n still didn’t talk to Tommy. You were fed up and decided to do it yourself. When you arrived at the Arrow House all you found were Lizzie and Ruby. 

Ruby instantly spotted the ring. You desperately wanted to talk to Tommy first but since you weren’t getting passed you sister not Lizzie you conceded.

“So, when did he pop the question?” Ruby asked.

“About two weeks ago,” You answered, a large smile on your face. “He asked me on the beach under the stars,” Ruby swooned but Lizzie didn’t seem to be paying attention anymore. You looked at her. You tensed noticing her looking behind you. Slowly, you turned around and saw your father standing there.

His eyes stare into your eyes and for the first time in your life you can’t figure out what he was thinking. He seemed emotionless but you couldn’t tell if the look in his eyes was anger or disappointment. His eyes glanced down at your hand, at your ring.

“Dad, I-” You didn’t get a chance to explain. He turned around and walked out of the house. You were shocked. He never did that to you. He always let you speak no matter what he was feeling. When you snapped out of it you quickly went after him but he was already in the car driving down the road. “Dad! Wait, please!” But he just keeps driving.

“He’ll come around,” Ruby tries to comfort but her words just go in one ear and right out the other.

For weeks your father avoided you like the plague. You walked into a room, he walked out. You tried to talk, he talked over you. You tried to get his attention, he ignored you. You tried for over a month before deciding to give him some space and focus on planning your wedding.

With the help of Ada, Ruby, Polly, and Esme you planned the wedding. Every day you got a step closer to the date. Every day you got more excited. Yet one thing continued to dampen your mood.

“Y/n, come in,” Esme greets, stepping aside to let you into her home.

“Is John here? I want to talk to him,” You say, fiddling with your fingers nervously. Esme smiles kindly and nods.

“Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll fetch him,” She suggests before disappearing into the house. You walk into the parlor. You smile and play with your cousins for a bit before John finally joins you.

“I wanted to ask you something,” You say after he shoos the kids away. He gives you his attention. You take in a deep breath as tears mist over your eyes. He looks more concerned by the second. “I was wondering if you... would walk me down the aisle,” John frowns his eyebrows.

“You want me?” He asks, shocked. “What about Tom-”

“He hasn’t spoken to me for months,” You snap, struggling to keep your tears from falling. “He can hardly look at me or stand to be in the same room. I think it’s safe to say he’s not coming,” You try to sound angry but curse silently when your voice grows more shaky. John sighs.

“Come here, sweetheart,” He opens his arms and you quickly close the distance between the two of you. He holds you tightly as you cry in his chest. “Tommy’s being a right arse at the moment, everyone knows that,” He mutters. “But nothing in the world is going to stop him from walking you down that aisle,”

“H/n being at the end of it might,” You mutter. John laughs quietly.

“Love, if Tommy really hated H/n, he would be dead by now,” John says truthfully. You see the logic in his statement but it hardly lifts your spirits. 

“The wedding is in two weeks,” You whisper. “He hasn’t budged yet,”

“I want you to do something for me,” John says, pulling back just enough to look at your face and wipe your tears. “I want you to think through your entire life and tell me a time where you didn’t get your way with Tommy,” John challenges. “I’m not even going to wait because it never bloody happened,” You smile a bit. “Now, this has been the longest you’ve had to wait for him to come around but trust me, he is incapable of not doing what you want,”

“Will you still be on standby?” You ask him. He smirks and kisses your forehead.

“Of course,” He whispers. “Bloody hell, has anyone said no to you before?” He asks, smirking as he steps away from you.

“What can I say? I’m everyone’s sweetheart,” You smile. John rolls his eyes and offers for you to stay for dinner, which you accept.

When you returned home you noticed H/n was home as well. You had moved out of Arrow house before the engagement, something your father strongly disagreed with.

When you walked inside, H/n was waiting up for you. You hadn’t meant to be home so late. It’s just when you’re with John and his kids they just make the time fly by. Luckily, H/n didn’t seem upset just tired.

“Come here,” He mutters, opening his arms. You smile and settle in his lap enjoying the feeling of his thick arms wrapped around your body. “Were you at Arrow House?” He asks.

“No, I went to see Uncle John,” You tell him. He hums curiously. “I wanted to ask if he’d walk me down the aisle,” You whisper. H/n holds you tighter.

“I’m sorry, Y/n,” He whispers to you. “I shouldn’t have proposed without asking for his blessing or at least mentioning it to him,”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” You grumbled before sighing. “But this is much more than that. Something else is bothering him,”

“You’re his precious girl, he’ll talk eventually,” He reassures you. You don’t respond, you simply cuddle deeper into his embrace.

A week passed. You had five days until your wedding. You woke up excited as you daydreamed about the day. However, your happiness didn’t last.

BRITIAN     AT    WAR    WITH    GERMANY

Your father and uncles had fought in the first war. The supposed ‘war to end all wars’. Now, only a short few years later there was another war. A war the next generation would fight. A war your H/n volunteered to join.

You were in the kitchen cleaning up. You were doing everything you could to keep buys. Britain was officially at war and you were terrified. You knew everything was going to change. Deep down you knew it would happen but it didn’t register until he was right in front of you.

“When do you leave?” You whisper, desperately trying to stay together as you look at H/n. He was in his uniform with papers in his hand.

“Thursday,” H/n hesitantly whispers. You close your eyes and hang your head. Not only was your soon-to-be husband going off to fight this war but he was leaving before your wedding. On top of that, you only had two more days with him.

“Why do you have to leave?” You whimpered. He doesn’t answer. He just closes the gap between the two of you and pulls you into a tight hug. He hugged you as if he could single handedly keep you from falling apart.

“I will come back to you, Y/n Shelby,” He states firmly. “Heaven nor hell will keep me from you, you have me word,”

“I love you,” You whisper, clinging to him. He pulls back just enough to tilt your head up to his lips. He doesn’t verbally respond but he tries to pour all his love and determination to return to you in the breathtaking kiss.

You cling to him for as long as you can but eventually have to let him go. While he didn’t leave until Thursday he had much to get done before then. He promised he would be back in a few hours but you didn’t want to be alone.

The first thing you did was go to Polly. You froze when you saw her drying her cheeks. Finn had volunteered as well. Together you both cried. 

Finn might have technically been your uncle but he was more of a brother. There was only a few years difference between the two of you. Polly had raised you both. You hated that you could possibly not only lose H/n but Finn as well.

Luckily Charlie was still too young to join but only for another year. You had no doubt that he would join up the first chance he got. He’s Tommy’s son. Neither of them were good at backing down.

When you left Polly you went to Arrow House. You were done. You were done with your father’s stubbornness. You were done with his silence and his judgmental stares. He could be mad about the wedding all he wanted but you needed him to come back to you.

“Did H/n..?” Lizzie’s voice dissipates. She didn’t want to finish the question and she didn’t have too. You just nod and accept her comforting hug. You’ve cried the majority of the day and knew you weren’t done yet. You knew the second you went face to face with Tommy you’d fall apart all over again.

“Where is he?” You ask.

“In his office,” Lizzie says knowing exactly who you were wanting. “Most likely on his second bottle by now,” You sighed, rubbing your face tiredly. “I’ll make some tea,” You send her a smile and a nod.

You don’t even bother to knock, you rarely did. There wasn’t a room you knew about that you weren’t welcome into. Inside you found your father slouched in his chair with a full glass in his hands. He doesn’t bother to look at you. You don’t even know if he registers your presence. 

“I don’t know what you’re so mad at me about,” You began. Your voice sounded strong and you hoped it stayed that way. “Yes, H/n asked me to marry him. No, I didn’t know at the time that he didn’t talk to you but get over it. You haven’t made his time in this family easy, no wonder he doesn’t want to talk to you. 

“When you found out you found out too soon. I was there to talk to you about it but Ruby and Lizzie saw me first. This wasn’t something I wanted to keep from you, I never meant to hurt you. I’m sorry,” You whisper. Hope fills you a bit when he glances at you in the corner of his eye. “I know something else is bothering you but I don’t know what it is and I need you to work it out some how because I need you, dad,” You whimper. 

He finally looks at you. 

“These last few months have been so hard without you and now H/n is going off to war, I’m not sure if I’m even going to get married, and you still won’t fucking talk to me!” You shouted but the tears in your eyes betrays your anger. “I’m scared out of my mind I’m going to lose H/n, that I’m going to lose Finn... That I already lost you,” A few tears fall down your face. “I’m sorry for whatever I did, please forgive me because I need you so fucking back,”

By the end you were close to sobbing and falling to you knees. You sobbed but you never fell. Tommy was out of his seat and was wrapping his arms around you before your knees could give away.

He leads you to the couch and sits down. You curl into his chest like you used to do when you were younger. He hums quietly and rocks you.

“You didn’t lose me, darling girl,” He whispers to you. “I’m so sorry for the way I’ve acted. I should have never treated you like I have. No, I don’t like H/n but not because of who he is but because he’s taking my little girl from me,” You tilt your head to look at him. “For nearly 26 years you have been the center of my world,” He whispers quietly. “Through everything, you have been the most important constant in my life. There were many times you were my only source of happiness, my only will to live,” He admits. “I’m terrified of what I’ll do without you,”

“You’ll never be without me,” You whisper to him. “I live ten minutes away and you’ll still see me daily whether H/n likes it or not,” Tommy smiles a bit. “And maybe when the war is over you’ll have more mini me’s running around,” Tommy scowls at the thought of the process of making children rather than the thought of the actual kids.

“You’re happy with him?” You nod. “You love him and he loves you?” You nod again. “Has he hurt you?” You shake your head. He sighs, slightly frustrated with the lack of reason to murder H/n. Not that he really needed a reason but he knew if he did he would hurt you. He’s already hurt you enough as it is. “Then you have my blessing,” You smile at him.

“He leaves before the wedding,” You whisper. He shrugs.

“So, move the wedding up,” He says nonchalantly. 

“How are we going to set everything up before Thursday?” You ask. He smirks.

“You don’t worry about a thing,” He kisses your forehead. “Let me call Ada, Pol, and Esme. They’ll help you get ready and I’ll worry about the rest,”

“You avoided this wedding the entire time, now you’re going to plan in within a few hours?” You ask.

“I’m Thomas Shelby,” He said as if it were the cure to all diseases. “Up you get,” He gently pushes you out of his lap. “No worrying,” He points at you before kissing your forehead again.

“Who’s going to want to celebrate at a time like this?” You ask before he leaves. He turns toward you and smiles softly.

“Right now is the perfect time to celebrate a moment like this,” Tommy tells you. You can see the honesty in his eyes and can tell he’s briefly reliving the past. You hate that his past is always haunting him and you pray that you’ll be able to help H/s if... when he comes back to you. “Relax, get ready, and I’ll see you in a few hours.”

It didn’t take long for Ada, Polly and Esme to show up. Polly had your dress and Ada had your accessories. The three of them with Lizzie and Ruby helped you get ready for the wedding.

As you got ready, Tommy went to your home where he found H/n just returning. It was obvious that he was surprised to see Tommy but he invited his future in-law inside nonetheless.

“I was a few years younger than you when I was shipped off to France,” Tommy explained to him. “When I returned I wasn’t the same. Nobody who goes through what we went through, what you will go through, returns the same,” Tommy warns. “Y/n was five or six when I got back. She helped give me a reason to keep waking up, to keep moving. When you come back, you’ll need someone that will be able to anchor you into the present. Don’t push people away, especially Y/n... She won’t let you,” Tommy advises with a soft smile as he thinks about you.

“I won’t,” H/s vows.

“You say that now but I promise it’ll be very tempting when you return,” Tommy says. Casually, Tommy walks closer. “Everyone that returns deals with the past differently. I won’t judge you for the drinks you’ll have or even the drugs you may take,” Tommy shrugs. “But if you come back and you turn violent again Y/n at any point. If you so much as hurt her one time, I will personally dig your grave and put you in it,” Tommy promises. “You will come back, you’ll deal with it however you can, and you’ll take care of Y/n and the family you’ll have. If you can’t do that, don’t marry her and walk away now.”

“I love you daughter. I want her happy and I’ll give my life to keep her safe,” H/s vows.

“Good,” Tommy nods. “That’s my little girl. Her happiness is everything to me. You give me one reason to kill you and I promise you and whatever god is out there that I will take that chance,”

“Understood,” H/n slowly nods.

“Good,” Tommy nods again. “Well, let’s get going, you’re getting married in a few hours,” Tommy says walking toward the door. He pulls out a cigarette and begins to light it.

“I am?” H/n calls out confused. Tommy just keeps walking and H/n jogs to catch up.

A few hours later, John and Arthur show up to collect the women.

“Your chariot awaits madam,” Arthur announces loudly. You couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear as he leads you to the car. John winks at you playfully.

“Told you he’d come around,” John teased.

“Should have cried in front of him sooner, that usually does the trick,” You joke back. John grins wider and kisses your head.

“Alright! Let’s get a move on, we’ve got a wedding to get too!” Arthur hollers. When you arrive where the rest of the gypsies and Peaky Blinders are, they cheer for your arrival.

Tommy greets you at the car looking handsome as ever.

“I hope I’m still allowed to walk you down,” He mutters helping you out of the car.

“Of course,” You smile leaning into him. He kisses your head and leads you toward the aisle. At the end you find H/s standing there looking breathtaking. “I’m scared,” You whisper.

“That’s alright,” He promises, slowly walking you toward your future husband. “There’s going to be moment where you’re scared but there will never be a moment where you’re alone,” He tells you. You tighten your arm around his. “These last few months will never happen again,” He vows. “I’ll be there anytime and every time you need me,”

“I know,” You whisper. 

When you reach the end, Tommy turns toward you. You smile up at him. He gently cups the side of your face.

“I love you,” He whispers, gently kissing your forehead. His lips linger as he remembers the day you were born, the day he left and came back from the war. He remembered every moment he shared with you. He hated that future memories would be shared with H/n but as long as you were there he wouldn’t mind.

“I love you too,” You whisper back, basking in the warmth and safety of his embrace for a moment longer. Tommy hesitantly steps back. You both share a smile before he hands you off to your soon-to-be husband.

[fastlikealambo]

link to chapter one.

link to chapter two.

link to chapter three.

link to chapter four.

link to chapter five.

link to chapter six.

link to chapter seven.

Fall of 94′: Eddie Munson x Black Fem Reader Chapter 8 

summary:

it’s been nearly 8 years since the events of hawkins and out of the entire party, the only one to stay behind is the one and only eddie munson. with a five year old daughter in tow, his life is a simple one, still trying to escape the dark cloud over him that never went away.

but when all too familiar hellish events start happening again eddie must team up with his daughter’s favorite and mysterious new teacher to protect his little girl and the town he owes nothing to.

warnings: violence,  gore, religious trauma, soft dom! eddie, discussions of mental health and ptsd, praise kink,  childhood trauma,  smut to end all smut,  hawkins, indiana is a warning to me.  

warnings for this chapter: broken bones, gore, vomiting, wish season 1 will byers is hurt, speeches

minors dni, I check

Eddie almost caved as soon as he sees Rosie’s face at the window, waving at him.

Maybe he should have done this over the phone.

“Daddy! Daddy’s here!” Rosie yelled at the top of her lungs, racing out the door and straight into her father’s arms.

“Hey munchkin,I  missed you so much!” Eddie said hugging her a little tighter than usual but she didn’t mind.

“I made cookies with grandma but don’t worry I saved some for you too, come on! ” Rosie tugged on Eddie’s hand but Eddie got on her level.

“Listen baby, Daddy has to go help a friend so you’re gonna stay with grandpa for just one more night, okay?” Eddie explained, his heart breaking in two watching Rosie’s face fall.

“ Can I come? I’ll be good, I promise!”

“You’re always good munchkin, but you'll have much more fun with grandpa and grandma.” Eddie urged.

“Are you gonna come back?”

Eddie nearly burst into tears at the question, this wasn’t supposed to be his life now, he made a promise to never lie to his kid like his old man but here he was, just like him, doing something dangerous and leaving his child in the aftermath.

“I have an idea, why don’t you hold on to this till I get back? Can you be a big girl and keep it safe for Daddy?” Eddie asked, taking his guitar pick necklace from around his neck and putting it around Rosie’s, her face lighting up.

“I can do it, I’m brave enough!” Rosie said, jumping back into Eddie’s arms.

“I love you Rosie, I promise I’ll be back to take you to school.” Eddie said firmly.

“I love you too Daddy!”

“Dinner’s ready Rosie, why don't you go help Grandma, huh?” Wayne’s gruff voice appears behind them and with another big squeeze, Rosie’s gone.

“Do I need to worry about anything, Edward? Are you in some kind of trouble, son?” Wayne asked.

“No, nothing like that, just helping out a sick friend.  I don’t sell anymore, I promise-

“Eddie, you’re a good man and a damn good father, you don’t need to explain anything to me. Whatever it is that you’re really doing, you make damn sure you come back to that little girl like I know you will, understood?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good, be careful.”  With a clap on his back, Wayne returned to his home while Eddie ran back to the car, brushing away tears.

“Eddie, you don’t have to do this. I can handle it on my own.” You said reaching over to take his hand in yours.

“I know you can but you’re not doing this alone. I’d never forgive myself if I let anyone die in that hell pit so I’m going, end of discussion. Don’t make me use my dad voice.”

“Don’t make me use my teacher voice.”

The drive is quiet, uneasy.

“Let’s go over the plan again.” Eddie said, eyes on the road.

“Get to the upside down, find Bobby, get Bobby through the gate while avoiding certain death.  Once we’re out, you run to the payphone, call 911, and tell them you heard someone calling for help by the old trailer park, and get the hell out of there. I’ll stay with Bobby till help comes and tell the police I heard crying while on a walk and found him. Once the coast is clear, I’ll go back and close the gate.”

“I’m not too sure about that last part.”

“This part I have to do alone, you can’t be anywhere near that scene.”

“What if you pass out or get hurt?”

“Then I pass out and you  still stay out of prison.”

“And Vecna?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. You asked me to trust you to get me through the night, now I’m asking you to trust me to get you back to Rosie.” 

 The car came to a stop outside of an abandoned trailer park.

Looks like it’s showtime.

It takes everything in Eddie to not turn the car around and go back to Rosie. 

 He purposefully took alternate routes to avoid Forest Hills, had Wayne meet him at a diner or his apartment, anything but go back there. Hawkins was hell for Eddie on a normal day but this was the seventh circle and here he was, about to dive right the fuck back in despite the fact the last time he did so, he almost died.

There were so many times he could have called the others today or the day before that but each time he picked up the phone, he just couldn’t do it. They had all fought for their new lives away from Hawkins and would drop everything and  come running back with one phone call from him, that was just the kind of people they were.

But not today.

Today Eddie The Banished, Eddie The Freak,  Eddie Munson, would stand alone.

Except he wasn’t alone.

He was with you.

Somehow when he was with you these past few days he felt like anything was possible.

No matter what happened today, he wasn’t leaving The Upside Down without you.

“ Fred’s gate isn’t far from here, just in the woods behind the picnic bench.” Eddie explained, going around to the trunk of the car as you got out and stretched. 

You had tried to rest when Eddie parked in front of a friend’s old cabin and got supplies but you were too worried about the likelihood of your death by traveling to another dimension to sleep.

What if something went wrong?

What if Eddie got hurt?

What if they were too late?

What if something was waiting for them?

“Once we go through the gate, we should be close to where you saw Bobby in the void. If he’s still there, we should be able to get in and get out undetected if we’re quiet enough and if a horde of bats and their bone snapping leader aren’t the welcoming committee.” Eddie said  you walked over to the trunk to see it filled with road flares, flashlights, a first aid kit and a sawed off shotgun.

“Do I want to know what the shotgun is for?”

“Anything that moves down there. Don’t worry, I won’t miss, I had a great teacher.”

You both grabbed what you needed from the car and made your way past the picnic tables by the trailer park entrance and into the woods.  You weren’t exactly sure what a gate into another world would look like until you felt it before you saw it, heat on your skin, a profound sense of fear creeping into your bones.

The very thing of nightmares was only a step away, a ghoulish hole in the ground with no bottom in sight.

“Remember what I said?” Eddie asked, taking you by the shoulders.

“Stick to the plan, do not deviate from the plan, no buying more time, and no hero’s journeys.”

“Do you trust me?”

“ With my life. Do you trust me, Eddie?”

“With everything I’ve got.”

Eddie tosses the gun down the gate first, waiting to hear them quietly land and for some horrifying creature to crawl out.  But you only hear them meet hard ground and nothing else, the only sound is both of your breathing and the wind behind you. 

“I’m going first.” You said.

“Like hell you are, what did I just say about the hero's journeys?  I’ll go back to the car and find something to cushion the landing and then I’ll go.”

“There’s no time and only one of us can move things with their mind. I’m going first and then I’ll float you down. I’ll be okay, I promise.”  You said firmly, leaning in and squeezing his hand.

“ Whatever you do, don’t step on the vines.”

You nod, reluctantly letting go of his hand and take a shaky step forward.

“See you on the other side.” 

You jump, darkness and ash clouding your vision as you flip through the air.  You know the ground is coming soon so you close your eyes and concentrate, slowing your fall down until you hover over the ground, gently landing to avoid thick black vines.

A black stormy sky rages all around you but you can’t believe it.

You’re in another world.

“I’m okay, you can come down.” You whispered through the gate.  Not even a minute later, Eddie is falling in front of you, and you gently float him safely the rest of the way down till he lands next to you.

“You really are amazing, you know that?” He said, accepting the hand you gave him up and hoisting the gun onto his shoulder. 

“I try.”

You follow Eddie through the wooded area, a grotesque identical copy to the one in your Hawkins, the ground littered with the remains of dead bats and vines.  

“Bobby? Bobby, it’s Miss from school. I’m here to take you home, but you need to make a sound sweetheart so I can find you. You don’t have to be afraid honey, I’m gonna get you home to your mom.” You called out, shining your flashlight on the area in front of you.

Silence.

“Bobby, can you hear me?”

Silence.

“We need to keep moving, I don’t like how quiet it is here. Maybe he’s hiding further in town.” Eddie whispers.

“Just one more minute, he has to be here, he couldn’t have gone far.”  You sweep the area again with your flashlight until you spot something under the half rotten picnic tables. You take a step closer to see what it is, a small gasp falling from your mouth.

“Oh my god, Eddie!” You point and you both take off towards the limp body of Bobby Jeffries

Oh god, no, please no.

Eddie gets to him first, slowly turning him over, the poor kid covered in the muck of this place, his arm at an odd angle. 

“He’s breathing, barely.”

“We got him out of here, now.”  Eddie takes his jacket off, wrapping it around Bobby as you do your best to splint his arm. You’re nearly finished when the sound of wings makes you both look up.

 The trees you thought were empty are now filled to the brim with demobats, very much alive.

As if reading your mind, Eddie shakes his head, gently lifting Bobby into his arms.

“Don’t you even think about it.”

“I’m not deviating from the plan, I’m expanding it. Get him to the gate, I’ll be right behind you, I swear.” You said.

“There has to be another way!”

“There isn’t.  You have to get him out of here and the bats will be on you two in seconds if I don’t do something. Please, Eddie, you have to go without me.” 

Eddie swears but tightens his hold on Bobby, ready to run.

“I’m not leaving here without you, whatever you’re going to do, do it fast.”

“Go, now!”

Eddie takes off running, the heavy sounds alerting the bats to your presence but you step in their path. They swarm you, two biting at your arm, nearly knocking you over but you close your eyes, lifting your hands in the air.

“You’re weak.”

“You are not a person, you are a product of sin made clean.”

“Don’t you love Mama?”

“ See Daddy, I told you she was pretty.”

“If you’ll let me look after you just a little bit longer, I know I can get you through the rest of the night.”

“You’re safe with me.”

“You really are amazing, you know that?”

You bring your hands down to the earth, feeling it crack beneath you as each and every bat swarming you falls to the ground dead. The remaining ones in the trees, fall dead, the ones that managed to give Eddie chase, fall dead.

You barely have enough strength to wipe your nose let  run to catch up with Eddie but you do so, seeing the relief spread over his face as you make your way to them.

There’s no time for a reunion as you slowly but surely propel Eddie and Bobby through the gate as softly as you can and then yourself, falling back into regular Hawkins, the night sky full of stars and not mutant bats above you.

Eddie lays Bobby in your arms and takes your face in his hands.

“ Fuck the gate, as soon as he gets help, come home to me, you hear me?”

You nod tiredly and Eddie runs to the nearest payphone before grabbing his car and getting away as quickly as possible.

Bobby’s breathing starts to slow down as you cradle him, tears welling up in your eyes.

“Come on Bobby, you’re okay, stay with me. You’re safe now, you just gotta hold on a little longer, okay?  Help is coming, somebody help me!” You screamed into the night air. 

 It feels like hours before a steady sea of sirens come in, police, fire, and ambulances encircle you.  Paramedics take Bobby from your arms while you feed the police a story about being out for a walk and hearing Bobby calling for help before he became unresponsive in your arms.  Thankfully it’s enough for them to let you go while Bobby is rushed to the hospital. 

You try to walk as normally as possible, declining the police’s offer of a ride home away from the scene, waiting until you’re alone on the side of the road before emptying the contents of your stomach onto the ground. The bites you managed to hide from the police are starting to bleed heavily through your thin jacket.

Eddie.

You’ve got to get home to Eddie.

You’re throwing up for a second time when a car pulls up beside you and someone gets out.

“I’m okay, it’s just food poisoning.” You said, wiping your mouth.

“ I told you, everyone in Hawkins comes to heel.” A familiar voice says and you turn around to see none other than Principal Carver, standing there.

“Principal Carver? What are you doing here?” You asked, backing up as he inches towards you.

“ Following you. I heard about you on the police scanner, they said you found the kid, called you a hero. You know for some reason, I just don’t believe that. A sweet teacher just comes to town, charms her students, and  becomes a local hero all in a few weeks? Sounds like a pretty good story. You wanna know what I think?”

“Not really.”

“I think you’re a fucking freak. All this time I thought it was Munson but it’s you. You kidnapped the kid and then pretended to find him for the reward money. That’s what you’re gonna tell our incompetent police department when I take you in.Make this easy on yourself and get in the fucking car.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, please just leave me alone.” You said struggling to keep yourself upright.

“Hurt me? You couldn’t do that even if you tried. Actually maybe you should attack me, give me a black eye or something so I can really sell the story.”

“You’re crazy.”

“For loving my town? For keeping everyone safe from freaks like you and Eddie Munson? I am a soldier, I am a goddamn hero, I am-

The sound of growling in the trees stops Carver mid-speech.

“What was that? Is it Munson, do you have an accomplice, you little bitch?” Carver asked, pushing you to the side.

You notice the lights in Carver’s car start to flicker on and off.

“Who’s there? This is Vice Principal Carver of Hawkins Elementary School and I order you to show yourself-

It happens so fast, one minute you’re standing there, the next Carver’s head is rolling next to your feet. 

A tall thin creature with elongated limbs is crouched over Carver’s body, claws digging into his flesh, its back to you.  You cover your mouth to keep from screaming, slowly walking backward as the creature continues to feast on Carver nearly out of sight before you step on a twig, snapping it. 

The creature raises till its full height, their  flower-like head unfurling petals of razor sharp teeth.  Focusing on you, it lets out a guttural cry, charging you head on.

You should have closed the gate. 

gardenof-venus

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[always-hinny]

Time flies by

July 2019

Her daughter was an adult. It was hard for her to admit, but if the fact that she was already married wasn't enough, the fact that her daughter already had teenage children of her own was. Time had flown by so quickly that she often wished she could rewind it. Of course, she wouldn't want to relive the war, but she would like to be in her early thirties again for a day or a week and have all her children living at home with her.

But those days were long gone. Her eldest was already almost fifty and his daughter was also grown up. And she and her husband were also inching closer to seventy.

'Time flies by far too fast.' She jolted up from her thoughts and looked at her daughter who had stepped beside her and was also looking out the window into the garden where the children were playing.

'How right you are about that,' Molly said, turning to her. 'How I would love to hold my little girl in my arms again. You all still little and Bill still at home with us,' she spoke her thoughts.

Ginny laughed. 'Then you'd have to jump back about thirty-six years.'

'Or at least twenty years back, not counting the war and everything, of course. I miss even the time when you were a rebellious teenager with you being incredibly stubborn.' Molly laughed. 'When you were pregnant with Lily, I wished that she would turn into puberty just like you did back then, so you could see how difficult that was.'

'I mean that's still possible. Lily's only eleven,' Ginny replied with a grin. 'And come on, I wasn't that bad!'

'Well, you always had a stubborn streak and wanted your own way. Of your brothers, you were always the most like Fred and George. Maybe it would have been better for you if Bill and Charlie had lived at home a little longer.'

'I'd like to be a normal sixteen year old again for a day too. I was just too busy with other things then and never really enjoyed being that young," Ginny said nostalgically.

'But you had some good moments in your youth too. You were in love with Harry and dating him even then. Your focus was on him and you gave each other something to look forward to even in the difficult times. It was always him.'

'I dated other boys too, Mum,' her daughter reminded her.

'Yes, but they were just placeholders. None of them really touched your heart. You never seemed as in love while you were with Dean or Michael as you did when you were with Harry,' Molly interjected.

Ginny leaned against the countertop and thought. Then she said, 'You know, I've always thought there was no way he would ever really be interested in me' Molly knew she meant Harry.

'Well why not my darling? You're smart, brave and beautiful; Ginny:'

'I just didn't think I could ever be smart enough, brave enough or beautiful enough for Harry Potter to notice me. It was hard to believe that he would see me as anything other than just his best friend's little sister. The little girl who can't get a word out around him. In general, I never thought that even a boy would be interested in me. The incidents in my first year didn't exactly make it easier. I had trouble making normal friends who didn't think I was a freak.' Her mother looked at her sympathetically. 'But then I learned to love myself again. I learned to respect who I was and probably most importantly, I learned to see him as just Harry; a normal teenager like everyone else was. Alright, maybe not quite that normal. More like one who is very attracted to trouble.' Both women laughed. She continued, 'But he was-'

'Just a boy,' Molly completed. 'I couldn't have asked for a better husband for you. It's nice to see how much you still love each other after almost eightteen years of marriage.'

'We had the best role model after all,' she replied, smiling at her mother. 'My brothers as well.'

'That's true, but still I always feel it's even more special with you and Harry.' Ginny looked at her confused.

'What do you mean by that, Mum?' 'You two aren't like your brothers and their wives, and you're not like your father and me. You still seem so in love, like you haven't been together for twenty-two years and had three children' Molly sighed. 'I don't know how to describe it, but you seem so loving and harmonious together. If you don't believe in true love or soul mates, all you have to do is look at you and you're convinced otherwise.'

Because they were. Harry and Ginny were soulmates. You didn't need proof of that, you just saw it.

'I love him so much,' Ginny said, looking through the open doorway at her husband sitting in the living room with her brothers.

'I know, darling. And that's wonderful!'

Ginny took a step towards her mother and hugged her, 'I love you, Mummy.'

Molly's tears almost came at those words. It had been a long time since Ginny had called her Mummy. 'I love you too, little one!'

Both women disengaged from each other and fell into a comfortable silence as they watched the children in the garden. Then Ginny became aware of two arms wrapped around her waist from behind. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

Harry leaned down to her and kissed her on the cheek. 'What do you think about a game of Quidditch against your brothers and Angelina? You on one team, me on the other?' he asked her quietly.

Ginny smiled at him. 'Get my broom and I'll go change. I'm going to kick your ass, Potter!'

Harry laughed. 'I'm not quite sure about that, Potter!'

[cuquitalocita]

a new addition- rowaelin

AN: okay, a bunch of you guys asked for a part two to this fic so here it is! it’s longer than i meant for it to be and it’s not my favorite but i hope you guys like it- by the way the name eliora is not mine originally- i can’t remember who used it but it was not me so feel free to tag people if you know :)

part one

~~

“And then what?” Her voice was eager.

Aelin shrugged, her lips tilting up into a small smile as she gazed at the green eyes across from her. “Then he kissed me.” Being completely honest, Aelin could remember the kiss as if it was yesterday. Could still feel his hard body pressed against hers and the fading taste of alcohol on his lips. 

“Bullshit,” a voice scoffed from behind her. Aelin whirled to face the matching turquoise eyes and she arched a brow, causing him to visibly swallow. 

“Excuse you? As far as I recall, I don’t remember you being there.”

Her son shook his head, plopping down on the open area of the couch beside her and taking her feet into his lap. “I didn’t need to be,” he shrugged. “You and Dad tell the story often enough. Everyone knows that you-”

He was cut off as Eliora’s hand slapped over his mouth. “No spoiling, Sammy! I wanna hear the story!” Aelin laughed at her six-year-old and pulled her onto her lap, kissing her cheek as she did so. She gazed at Eliora for a moment; she truly was a beautiful child, even if Aelin was a little bias. 

“That’s right, Eliora,” Aelin grinned at her daughter. “And what did we say about spoiling?”

“Don’t do it,” she replied definitively with a firm shake of her head. Aelin couldn’t help but squeeze Eliora a bit tighter as she opened her mouth to continue the story. Her mouth closed as another body entered the living room. 

“What are we doing?” Nehemia asked, coming to sit by her twin on the couch. Shoulder to shoulder, Aelin’s eyes stared back at her. Sam rolled his eyes.

“Mama’s telling me a love story,” Eliora gushed to her sister, her green eyes alight with childlike excitement. “The greatest of all time!” 

Nehemia gazed at Eliora with pure love, even as she leaned over to whisper something in her brother’s ear. Aelin was just able to hear, “She’s telling it again, huh?” 

“I told you we should have gone to Aunt Lys’s house,” was her son’s muttered response. Nehemia snorted, leaning back over the couch until she was eye to eye with Eliora. 

“Greatest of all time, huh? Must be a good one.” Her eyes twinkled with a mischievous glint Aelin could only credit to herself. 

“It is,” Aelin finally cut in. “And if you would stop interrupting, I would be able to finish it.” 

The sixteen year-olds rolled their eyes, gazing at one another in a silent language only they could understand. But Aelin didn’t need to hear their dialogue to understand that they had heard the story enough times. But Aelin couldn’t help it. She just loved telling it. Gazing at the sparkling emerald on her finger, Aelin didn’t think she would ever get sick of telling it.

“So, as I was saying.” She bounced Eliora playfully in her lap until she giggled. “He kissed me and-” 

“Aelin Galathynius Whitethorn, you better not be telling my daughter that I kissed you at that party!” Aelin had been so absorbed in her kids that she had barely registered her hulking husband walking into the room. He stood at the door, arms crossed in front of his body as he glared at her, emerald eyes meeting turquoise in a clash of passion. Rowan was still in his work clothes, clearly having just arrived, and Aelin was really trying not to drool at how good he looked with his hair ruffled and his tie undone around his neck.

She threw up her hands with an exasperated sigh.

“Gods, what does a girl have to do to finish a story around here?” 

The floor of their living room creaked as Rowan came to sit beside Aelin and Sam on the couch, his gaze never leaving hers. Rowan leaned forward, catching Aelin’s lips with his for a quick kiss before settling back down on the couch. Nehemia immediately rested her head on her father’s shoulder and was rewarded with a warm kiss to the top of her head. 

Aelin gazed at them with fondness, love filling her heart. Until her husband’s gaze locked with her own once more, and Aelin smirked. 

“You cannot keep telling people that,” Rowan shook his head before turning to their youngest, taking her from Aelin’s lap and shooting his wife an exasperated look. “Eliora, do you remember what Mama and I told you about lying?”

From across from her, Aelin watched Sam snort. He swallowed as his gaze met hers, smile dropping. 

Eliora’s tiny eyebrows scrunched up at the top of her head, the look identical to one Aelin constantly saw on Rowan’s face. Finally, she shook her head, gazing up at her father. “It’s… wrong?”

“That’s right,” Rowan smiled down at her. “And we don’t do it. Even if Mama does.” He looked at the gape on his wife’s face before looking down at their daughter once more. “Especially if Mama does.” Aelin stuck her tongue out to her husband, who finally cracked a smile at her. This one sent warmth all the way down to her toes.

“Does this mean Mama can’t finish the story?” Eliora asked, her voice turning sad as she gazed between her family. Rowan laughed, bouncing her up and down before looking at the twins and back at Aelin, an unmistakable look of triumph in his eyes. 

“Oh, no no no,” he replied, grinning. “Daddy’s here now. And I’m gonna tell you what really happened. I didn’t want to be at that party, to begin with...” 

Aelin didn’t need him to, even if their kids did. She remembered everything about that night. Everything about the days and weeks following she didn’t think she would ever forget them until the day she died. It wasn’t every day you kissed the love of your life at a shitty fraternity rager.

~~

Rowan sat in the kitchen nursing his long since warmed beer. Shitty rap music blared through the speakers around him and it was then that he decided he was better off going back to his dorms before he did something he would regret. 

It had been an hour since the kiss. An hour until he had finally gotten to understand what the hype of kissing Aelin Galathynius was. She was a lot of things- but a bad kisser wasn’t one of them. Rowan had sworn to every god imaginable he could handle a kiss with the infuriating blonde. It was just a kiss, right? Just a game.

But her lips had touched his and Rowan knew something was very very different. He hadn’t been able to get the smell of lemon and verbatim out of his senses for the past hour and it was unlikely that he would stop imagining the kiss any time soon.

But it was just a kiss. He didn’t like Aelin Galathynius. 

She was annoying, and loud, obnoxious, and rude, and she lived to annoy him.

So why couldn’t he stop thinking of her? Even before the party, after their failed project, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about those damn turquoise eyes. 

It wasn’t that he hated everything about her. No- he had noticed the kind voice she would take when talking to Lysandra’s little sister. And he would be a fool not to notice the special smile that lit up her face when she would play with her dog or talk about literature. No, he didn’t hate her. But whatever he did feel was proving to be extremely problematic. Because there was no way she felt the same way. 

Yes- it was definitely time to go home. 

Making his way out from behind the kitchen counter, Rowan made to leave the kitchen just as the door went flying open. The sound of laughter rang through the door and Rowan stared at the exact person he was hoping to be done with for the night.

“Not likely, Moonbeam,” she was saying with a shake of her head, even though a spark glimmered in her blue eyes. Rowan had to consciously check himself from staring for too long as Aelin realized who was standing in front of her.

Her hand flew to her chest with wide eyes. “Jesus, Rowan, you scared me!” 

Rowan thought it was the first time she had ever said his name. He quite liked the sound of it from her lips. 

He was staring again. Full-blown staring at the woman in front of him as he contemplated what to say or do. He was coming up blank. Every thought in his mind seemed to be screaming at him at once. Some saying to run- to flee and never come into contact with her again, others saying to grab her and kiss her. All of them agreed she looked breathtaking in front of him. Like a golden angle.

“Ditto, Galathynius,” he managed out, earning a frown from Aelin. The action brought his gaze to her lips and he quickly looked away. Aelin seemed to have changed as well. Gone was the snarky woman who had spilled her beer all over him, replaced with a beautiful woman who he might’ve been friends with in another life. 

“Hey, can we-” 

“You know you may want to switch to a different conditioner,” he cut her off, saying the first thing he could think of to leave the conversation. “Your hair’s a little dry.” 

Aelin gaped at him, her once lidded eyes turning cold and hard as she scoffed, shoving past him further into the kitchen. “Charming as ever, Whitethorn,” she sniped. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.” 

~~

Eliora clapped from her place on her father’s lap.

“It was true love’s kiss!” she cried, earning a laugh from her siblings and parents. It had definitely been something, that was for sure.

“I don’t know…” Aelin mused. “I thought true love’s kiss was reserved for princes, the bravest of them all.” Eliora frowned, as did the twins as their gazes switched to their father. 

“I am brave!” Rowan squawked, eyes narrowing. “What are you talking about, Aelin?”

“Why, my dear husband,” Aelin placed her hand on her chest, pretending to be affronted. “It seems you’ve forgotten what happened afterward.” Realization dawned on Rowan’s face before retreating back into a frown. He seemed to hold Eliora tighter as he glared at his wife. 

“I haven’t forgotten anything,” he muttered, voice low.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Sam interrupted his parents from his side of the couch. “What do you mean what happened afterward?” This was a part of the story that neither one of their teenagers had heard before. Whether they were too young to understand it, or it had never come up, the twins were now fully invested in the story. 

“Yeah,” Nehemia joined in. “You guys got together after the kiss at the party. That was it, right?” At their parents’ silence, the twins looked at each other before bolting upright in their seats. 

“Right?” they asked in unison. 

Rowan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. It seemed it was time for a sequel to their family tale. 

~~

Rowan was sure there should be a ditch where his feet had paced through the grass in front of Aelin’s dorm. Cursing to whatever gods there were, Rowan forced his feet to stop moving. How was he supposed to apologize to Aelin if he couldn’t even stop pacing from the nervousness of just thinking about it?

It hadn’t taken long after Rowan had left the party for him to realize what an idiotic prick he had been. He had been tempted to drive over to her dorm right then and there and grovel for her forgiveness. But ultimately he had decided against it, choosing instead in favor of avoiding a hangover. 

But he was sober now, and an apology was necessary. More than necessary. 

He had apologized to people before. He had begged his professors for extensions and apologized after a falling out with an old friend. But he had never planned on asking out any of the people he had been apologizing to. Two days and Rowan had refused to talk about the kiss with anyone. To be honest, he had tried to forget about it himself.

But it seemed it was destined to never leave his mind for the rest of his existence. And as he played the kiss back in his mind, he couldn’t say he minded it. It had been a rude awakening to realize he may have had feelings for Aelin Galathynius. To go from loathing the girl in his chemistry class to suddenly picturing her face everywhere was a big change, and Rowan didn’t know what to do about it. 

Rowan wasn’t stupid. Aelin Galathynius was a beautiful person. Gorgeous looks aside, the woman had a pure heart of fire and gold. Of course, he had noticed this in sullen silence, but that wasn’t the point. He could acknowledge her wicked intelligence and her need to fight for something that was important to her. And he knew that she loved unconditionally. 

Whether he liked it or not, he had kissed Aelin back, and that had been all him. 

He wanted to do it again. 

“Fleetfoot, slow down! Hang on a second Lys- Fleetfoot, no!” Rowan whipped around as he heard Aelin’s voice come from behind him. Sure enough, the golden beauty walked along the sidewalk to her dorm, dog leash in hand. 

She was dressed in a university sweatshirt and leggings that showed off the curve of her legs, so much so that Rowan was forced to look away. Her phone was between her ear and shoulder as she spoke with who Rowan assumed to be Lysandra. He held back a smile as the massive golden retriever yanked her along the road, apparently following a particularly interesting squirrel. 

“I’m telling you, Lys,” she was saying as she came closer, clearly still not seeing him. “It’s not li-” Her feet came to a sudden stop and Rowan’s head snapped up to see her gaze was already on his, eyes wide. Aelin opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Rowan couldn’t find he had anything to say either. Her golden hair ran down her back and Rowan found himself fighting the urge to twirl a strand of it around his finger. She really was breathtaking. 

“Lys, I’ll call you back,” she said, eyes not leaving his as she took the phone from her shoulder and ended the call. “Rowan? What are you doing here?” 

It was his turn to struggle for words. How would he even bring it up? A week ago the two were on nothing more than insulting terms. She had infuriated him- had tried every nerve in his body and every bit of anger he had. But now… 

Aelin’s brows were raised in anticipation. Are you going to answer?

Rowan coughed, finally thrown out of his reverie. Who was he kidding? Aelin didn’t want to go on a date with him? Aelin didn’t want to go anywhere with him. And he couldn’t blame her. Rowan had been nothing but a prick to her since the moment they had met, and it was truly coming back to bite him in the ass. 

“Uh, Aedion told me he left something in Lys’s room.” The lie rolled off of his tongue easily enough, yet he hoped Aelin would be able to see through it. It seemed that she didn’t.

“Oh,” she said, understanding and almost shame clouding her words. “Right. What is it? Do you wanna come inside to find it?” Aelin’s dog sat obediently at her heels, looking between the two college kids in silent wonder. 

Yeah, dude, Rowan wanted to say. I don’ know what’s happening either.

“No,” he shook his head. “It’s Aedion’s problem. I just thought I could find it before class started but I think it’s too late. He’ll come around later for it.” 

“Right,” Aelin said doubtfully, crossing her arms in front of her body and looking at him.

“Right,” Rowan repeated back to her, causing Aelin to raise another brow. He wanted to push it back down. “Well, I’m gonna go- get to… class. So- bye Aelin.” He was gone before she could say anything else, giving her his back and practically sprinting back toward his side of campus. 

Rowan Whitethorn was an idiot. He knew it. But one look from Aelin and the cold fear that had rushed through his body had him wanting to curl up into a ball and never speak to her again. But he had to. Rowan would have to talk to her again if he was going to find out who was truly behind those stunning blue eyes.

But even at the thought of speaking to her again-

~~

“Hold on, hold on, I know where this is going,” Nehemia interrupted her father before he could continue his sentence. “You avoided her didn’t you?” As Rowan’s cheeks flamed, Sam sat upright in his seat, a shit-eating grin on his face. 

“No way. You avoided her?” Aelin cackled as Rowan grumbled something under his breath, earning herself another glare. Nonetheless, Aelin tucked herself under her husband’s arm, reaching up to plant a kiss on his cheek. He seemed to soften at the touch, green eyes meeting hers in a look so full of love Aelin thought she might explode. 

“Well, what is it, old man?” Sam prompted. Rowan scowled at his son and daughter, both of who looked ready to pass out from restrained laughter. 

“Only for a couple of weeks,” he muttered lowly. 

“A COUPLE OF WEEKS?” Sam exploded, his laughter finally ringing out through the house as he fell back into the couch, holding his stomach. Nehemia glared at her brother and poked him in the stomach. It didn’t seem to matter as Sam sat up, still grinning. “And you call me a coward for not asking Asterin Havilliard out.” 

“You are a coward for not asking Asterin Havilliard out,” Rowan shook his head, running a hand down his face. Nehemia nodded, offering her father a high five which he quickly returned. She was such a daddy’s girl. 

“It’s true honey,” Aelin cut in, even as her son glared at her. “Dorian knows she likes you.”

“The world knows she likes him,” Nehemia said, exasperated. “Now get back to the story. Mom,” she turned to Aelin. “Did you know Dad was lying about having places to be?”

Aelin snorted, running her hand through the hair at the nape of Rowan’s neck which seemed to be even redder than it had been moments before. “Of course I did. His excuse was that he had to go to class. It was Sunday.” 

It was Nehemia’s turn to crackle now and Rowan looked downright offended. It wasn’t often that his oldest daughter wasn’t on his side. Aelin leaned into Rowan’s shoulder, delight running through her body as he placed a chaste kiss on her temple. 

“You’ll pay for this,” he mumbled into her hair. 

Her eyes said it all. I’m looking forward to it, Buzzard. 

“What happened? What happened?” Eliora’s voice dragged Aelin back to the present. She was sure her youngest had no idea what was going on at this point in the story, but Rowan continued nonetheless. 

~~

It was three weeks before he saw her again. Three weeks of avoided group hangouts and staying in his dorm room during parties. Three weeks of taking a longer route than normal to all of his classes, and three weeks of wishing he could speak to the girl he couldn’t get out of his head. 

Rowan was sitting at a picnic table in the middle of one of the university quads, textbook open and highlighter in hand. He hadn’t actually understood any bit of what he had read, but at least it looked like he was doing something. And it seemed to be working pretty well for his other problem.

“Fleetfoot, get back here!” Or not. 

Rowan tried not to draw attention to himself as Aelin ran past his table, after the massive bundle of golden fur that was running away from her. He watched as she chased her dog around the quad, finally giving up as she layed on the ground, arms splayed wide. It wasn’t long before Fleetfoot was back and licking her face. 

He felt Aelin’s laugh all the way to his heart.

~~

“Ten bucks says he grows a pair and asks her out.” Sam had long since abandoned his spot on the couch in favor of sitting on the ground to watch his father intently as he told the story. He had muttered the words to his sister, whose feet were right by his head. She too was looking at her father intently.

“Twenty says he keeps ignoring her until happenstance pushes them together.” 

Rowan rolled his eyes at his children, even though the spark in his green eyes showed he was more than amused. “Your mother was right. It is impossible to finish a story in this house.” 

“Gods,” Sam said, shaking his head. “I can’t believe my dad was such a pus-”

“Let’s see how fast I can ground you,” Rowan cut him off with a stern look to the child in his arms who seemed to be on the verge of sleep. Sam smiled sheepishly.

“My bad.” 

“Will you shut up so he can finish the story?” Nehemia glared at her brother. 

~~

“Alright,” Aedion slammed his hand down on Rowan’s helmet, sending a large clattering sound through his head. Rowan scowled at his best friend, shoving him away. “What the fuck is going on between you and my cousin?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Rowan turned back to his bag, shrugging off his helmet and shoving it into the massive pack before taking a sip of his water bottle, all while ignoring Aedion and those eyes that reminded him so much of the ones he truly wanted to see. 

“Don’t bullshit me, Rowan,” Aedion snapped at him, forcing Rowan to face him. “The two of you have been skirting around each other for the past three weeks and Aelin won’t even come to parties with us anymore so what. Happened.” 

Rowan stopped. Aelin hadn’t been going to parties? Had she been avoiding him as much as he had been avoiding her? He looked at his best friend and shrugged. 

“We kissed. During spin the bottle.” 

Aedion looked at him for what seemed like minutes before bursting into uncanny laughter. 

“Damn,” he wheezed out. “That’s it? Well, it’s about time.” 

“Excuse me?” Rowan growled, and Aedion stopped laughing. 

“You know what I mean, man. It’s about time. All those years when you two would look at each other and glance away before the other noticed. Or when you defend each other when the 

other isn’t there- yep, don’t think I didn’t notice that. I think we can all agree that it’s about time.” 

Rowan shook his head, incredulous. Other people had noticed that?

“No, Aedion,” he sighed. “Aelin hates me. She wants nothing to do with me.” Aedion stared at him again before, shaking his head.

“Ro, man, you are such an idiot sometimes.” 

“You know, Aedion. Saying cryptic shit and expecting other people to understand you doesn’t help anyone,” Rowan snapped, his patience thinning. Turning back to Aedion, he found his eyes glued on something behind him. 

Rowan’s heart stopped. There was no way.

But sure enough, Rowan turned around to meet the gaze of a gaping Aelin Galathynius. She held a tennis ball in one hand and Fleetfoot circled the ground at her feet. Clearly, the dog had chased the ball into their field and her owner had eventually followed. At the worst timing imaginable. 

“Aelin-” Rowan started, but she was already gone, whirling around and sprinting out of the stadium, the golden retriever at her heels. He didn’t think before following after her. “Aelin, wait!” he called after her, forcing his legs to go faster.

It turned out that Aelin Galathynius was quite fast when she wanted to be, and Rowan only caught up to her when she was standing in front of her dorm building. She didn’t need to turn around for Rowan to know she was fuming. 

“Gods, what do you want, Rowan?” she glared at him, her voice ice. “Haven’t you already proven your point?” Rowan wanted to grab her and shake her.

“Proven my- what? Aelin I-” 

“Look you made yourself very clear at the party, alright?” she snapped, turning away from him. But Rowan’s arm shot out, catching hers before she could leave and forcing her to look at him. “I get that Aedion can be nosy at times but you were so out of line, Whitethorn.” 

The confused look on his face must have been painfully obvious. Aelin rolled her eyes. “Look, if it was just an act to shut Aedion up, I-” 

Rowan kissed her.

This woman. This annoying, infuriating, intelligent, beautiful woman. She was absolutely astounding. And she thought he somehow hadn’t noticed that. 

Rowan wanted to remember the feeling of her lips on his for the rest of his life. Wanted to bottle the sound of the small gasp she released before melting into the kiss. He wanted to mold their bodies together until there was no room left. Rowan wanted to feel her soft hair between his fingers and the feeling of her hands in his hair until the day he died. He never wanted to let her go. 

This time when the two pulled back, Rowan kept her close to his body with an arm around her waist. Her arms were still around his neck and Aelin gazed at him through wide eyes. Before she could say anything, Rowan kissed her again, this time lingering. She kissed his smile with her own.

“It was never an act.”

~~

“Well it seems to me that Fleetfoot is the true heroine of the story,” Nehemia grinned, petting the head of her own puppy that sat at her feet next to Sam. “Without her, you two would never have met again. Oh, and I won, by the way Sammy. Pay up.”

“That’s my girl,” Rowan grinned, pride shone over his face at his daughter’s antics regardless of her win being at his expense. Sam practically growled as he handed his sister a twenty-dollar bill. 

“Oh, don’t be sad, Sammy,” Aelin comforted her son, holding her arms out until he rolled his eyes and walked over to give her a hug. “Ask out Asterin and your kids won’t do the same thing to you,” she whispered, earning a dark red blush on her son’s cheeks.

She shared a knowing look with Rowan, unable to resist reaching up and kissing his lips once more. Rowan returned it in kind, grinning when she nipped playfully at his bottom lip. 

“Boo!” Nehemia called from her spot on the couch as Sam yelled, “Get a room!” 

Aelin turned to Rowan once more, unsurprised to see his gaze already on her. “Remind me why we keep them?” Rowan’s laugh rang out loud as he pulled Aelin close to his body. Her head landed on his shoulder and she sighed in content.

“Because we’re cute,” Nehemia supplied. “At least, one of us is.” She gazed at her little sister who had long since fallen asleep on her father’s lap. 

It seemed that their entire reason for telling the story had fallen asleep long before her father had finished telling it. There was no doubt that Eliora wouldn’t remember any bit of the story when she woke up. 

“She’s too young to understand the story yet,” Nehemia said, brushing back a piece of her little sister’s hair with astounding gentleness. 

“So what do we tell her when she’s old enough?” Aelin asked, cherishing the kiss that Rowan placed on her head and unable to contain the insurmountable love in her heart as her kids responded. 

“Oh, Mom’s version, for sure. It’s way better.”

~~

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[mandoalorian]

Borrowed Time [Din Djarin x F!Reader]

ੈ♡˳‧₊*: • Chapter 3: The Escape ✩࿐ ˚.✧

Summary: You are the princess of Mandalore, held hostage on your own planet by Moff Gideon and his army of Imperial troopers. Left with no choice, you send out a distress signal; a plea for protection— and who comes? None other than Din Djarin, a foundling of The Death Watch. He, by creed, is your sworn enemy. And where you have asked for his protection, he has been told by his mentor that he must marry you and gain the ability to restore Mandalore to its former glory.

Word Count: 2600>

Warnings: female masturbation

Series Masterlist

Din Djarin was the first Mandalorian warrior to set foot on Mandalore wearing full armour in decades. It wasn't an act of bravery or rebellion, although it would have certainly been interpreted that way. Din didn't know any different. In fact, apart from the odd glare, he hadn't even assumed he'd caused any trouble upon his approach to the palace.

He was so, very wrong.

"Moff Gideon, sir— a Mandalorian was spotted walking through the princess' palace back on Mandalore. He was seen with a child. We are led to believe that his entry to the palace was not authorized by an Imperial, but by the princess herself." one trooper informed, standing as straight and still as could be. Moff Gideon blinked momentarily and turned to face the bay window of the Imperial light cruiser. He looked amongst the stars as he contemplated the trooper's revelation.

You'd granted palace entry to a Mandalalorian in secret? That was the first sign of trouble. You, despite the front you upheld, were no longer the Manda'lor, but a captive of the Empire. You knew fine well that all entry to Mandalore must be granted by Moff Gideon himself… and this was the first time he'd heard of this. Nevertheless, Gideon was not one to panic. He remained calm and collected, although his blood boiled at your audacity to go against his commands.

"A child, you say?" Moff Gideon hummed casually, adjusting his black leather glove. Of course there was a specific child on his mind, but Moff Gideon knew better than to let himself worry over that. If a Mandalorian warrior had returned to Mandalore, it could be the first sign of mutiny. The first sign of your wishes to regain power and solitude to Mandalore the Great. "Do we know anything about the Mandalorian?" Moff Gideon questioned, deciding that the Mandalorian was his main concern.

"He was dressed in full beskar armour. Helmet included. According to ISB records, the child is an Imperial bounty. It seems he has been in possession by the Mandalorian for quite some time." The trooper informed, his entire body stiff.

That was when Moff Gideon knew for sure— it was the child he'd sought after for the past six months. The child who possessed the bloodstream of a force-sensitive, a Jedi even.

And now it just so happened that the Child was on Mandalore, the planet Moff Gideon held power over. It was perfect. Everything was falling into place for the Imperial reign. If the Moff could just get his hands on the child…

"Prepare my ship," Moff Gideon instructed, raising a finger. "Set course to Mandalore."

—-—-—

There wasn't a single room in the palace that Din wasn't in awe of. Now that he and Grogu had found comfort in your quarters, he checked out onto the balcony trying to find a good view of the Razor Crest. Upon inspection, it seemed like Imperial troopers were checking out Din's ship, which could never be a good thing. He turned back to you and watched as you fiddled with Grogu's ears.

You were beautiful; with the softest and most delicate features he'd ever had the opportunity to look at. Your voice was as sweet as honey and your eyes sparkled like the brightest star in the whole galaxy. Din was trying to work out when exactly would be the best time for him to explain the little marriage situation the Armorer had proposed to him before he left. It was clear as day that you already didn't like his creed; which meant he couldn't exactly be honest with you about his intentions.

He couldn't say 'Oh, my cut of the deal is that I marry you. And once we are united, I help you regain power over Mandalore, but we do it my way. We do it the traditional way. The way of the Watch'. You'd simply never allow it. No… Din had to be more cunning. He had to form a plan.

He wasn't happy to lie to you. You seemed nice enough, and your heart was in the right place. Already Grogu had taken a liking to you which was certainly a rarity.

Din slowly searched around your bedroom. It was like a library, shelves upon shelves filled with romance novels. You were clearly a hopeless romantic, and perhaps that could serve in Din's favour. And you'd already formed an attachment with his son. That's when a cord struck Din.

He could always just… make you fall in love with him. Make you want to marry him.

Din Djarin never had the strongest moral compass. He did what he had to do to support his Creed and this was simply just one of those occasions. The Armorer had said so herself, the way of his creed was the right way. It was the only way he has ever known. His gaze flicked back over to you, and his heart melted. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad making you his wife after all.

There was a slight problem. Din had never had a long term romantic relationship in his life. He didn't know how to flirt and he was afraid over how long it might take him to successfully seduce you. He had to get in your good books someway or another.

After a prolonged silence, you were the first to speak.

"I think we're in trouble already," you swallowed, looking up at Din. "I never expected a Child of the Watch to come rescue me… but you showing up on Mandalore dressed like a Mandalorian was a bad idea." Din blinked momentarily, but didn't say a word. His silence only urged you to continue your explanation. "No Mandalorian has been brave enough to return to Mandalore wearing full beskar and a helmet. I predict the Imps have already sent word to the Moff."

"You're the Manda'lor though," Din pointed out. "Surely you have some say in the matter?"

You practically cringed. You weren't really the Manda'lor— but that wasn't important right now. Sure, you'd tell him eventually that Moff Gideon had overthrown your position of power. You'd tell him once you regained control of Mandalore. You took Din's hands and sighed. "Swear that I can put my faith in you to protect me."

"I swear," Din promised, running his thumb over your knuckles. You swore that your heart skipped a beat at the menial yet intimate touch. "So princess. What's the plan?"

"We have to leave the palace. Go into hiding. I have no doubt Moff Gideon and his men are already on their way to investigate."

"Wait—," Din paused, his suspicion already rising. "I know Mandalore is under Imperial rule but who is this Moff and why is he so important?"

You scrunched up your nose, not prepared to provide him with the truth. As it turned out, you and Din were both ready to lie to each other. You expected him to trust you, and he expected you to trust him, but neither of you realised that you both had questionable intentions.

"He governs the planet. He's kind of the boss man," you said quietly. That wasn't exactly false. You were just… sugar coating the truth. "Where do you hail from, Din?"

"Uh- complicated question… I uh…" Din pondered. He didn't even remember the name of the planet where he was born. He was taken away by the Watch when he was just a four year old orphan. He went through his training all around the galaxy, never staying still for one moment, until eventually his tribe went into hiding on Nevarro. He sighed. "Nevarro." Assuming that was the easy answer.

You'd never heard of such a place. "Do you have friends on Nevarro?"

He wasn't sure if friends was the right word. He knew people, sure. Many of the citizens over there were in debt to Din. "I guess."

"People who can help us? We could… form an alliance," you smiled as you gathered your information. "To rebel against the Empire."

"You're sounding more like a politician for the New Republic than a Mandalorian warrior." Din scoffed, and you supposed he had a point. You didn't want Mandalore to overrule the galaxy. You were fine with the New Republican reign. From your own awareness, General Leia Organa of the New Republic was actually the daughter of your mother's old friend— Senator Padmé Amidala. But what were the chances that some random child of the Watch had any connection to the New Republic? Still, there was no harm in asking.

"Do you know any New Republic fighters?" you pondered, holding Grogu tight into your chest. You were cradling him in your arms as he had fallen asleep during your conversation, his gentle snores filling your bedroom.

It just so happened that Din did know a New Republic fighter and she just so happened to reside on Nevarro. Carasynthia Dune of Alderaan. Din nodded his head in affirmation and your grin only grew wider. "This might actually work." you confessed with a shaky exhale.

"No offence princess, but the New Republic already has too much on their plate to help you regain control of Mandalore, they're already still fighting the remnants of the Empire." Din huffed.

Din had a point— but what he didn't know was that the great Manda'lor was an Imperial ISB officer. If you could just get to Leia Organa and explain your situation, as the daughter of an old family friend… maybe then you'd gain the support of the New Republic. You were a slave of the Empire but you were desperate to break free of their hold.

"Take me to your friend… the New Republic fighter." you told the Mandalorian, beaming so brightly that your eyes twinkled with delight. Din wasn't one to catch feelings, but he swore his heart stopped every time he caught a glimpse of your lips curling into a smile.

"Now?" Din asked, shuffling around awkwardly.

"Yes," you confirmed. "I'm afraid we're already running on borrowed time."

—-—-—

Din was a good pilot and he knew how to sneak around when necessary, which meant, yourself, the Mandalorian, and his son, were able to leave Mandalore in one piece without the authority noticing. Din promised you he'd make the jump to hyperspace as soon as it was safe to do so, your anxiety already bubbling away as you considered the probability of Moff Gideon and his troopers already raiding your palace in search of you. No doubt that the moment they realised you were missing, they'd send out a whole search party for you.

Your nerves weren't lost on Din. In fact, he made his bed — something he never did — and encouraged you to lay in it. "May as well get some rest princess, we'll be in the air for a while." he grumbled, trying to resist the thought of you sleeping in the same place he slept every night. He wasn't prepared to give up his bed for anyone but you were the princess of Mandalore and potentially his future wife. And he'd known you for the best part of an hour. He still hadn't entirely wrapped his head around it all.

You were uncertain at first, but you decided he had a point. His bed was so much smaller than the one back home. Everytime you moved the slightest, it croaked and screeched. You could feel every indent and wire underneath the thin excuse of a mattress and you couldn't help but wonder how he could possibly sleep at night. Unless he slept in his full Beskar… it must've been so uncomfortable for him.

Din nursed Grogu while you caught a couple hours of sleep, but he couldn't stop thinking about you. Not once did he expect to be returning back to Nevarro so fast, but he decided it would be a good thing. He could report back to the Armorer whilst you and Cara spoke.

He was tired too. This whole day so far had been exhausting, but rather than scooching next to you in his bed, he opted to get cozy in the cockpit. Throwing a blanket over himself and Grogu, Din managed to close his eyes.

As you had imagined, your sleep on the Razor Crest wasn't very satisfying and you woke up every few minutes. Staring up at the ceiling, you couldn't help but think about the Mandalorian. He was serving his duty to protect you, believing that you are the rightful ruler of Mandalore. And for the first time, you felt guilty for being so dishonest to him. He'd shown you nothing but care and compassion from the moment he met you, even going as far to comfort you on the grand staircase. He wasn't offended when you expressed your disdain towards his creed— at least, he didn't show it. Din Djarin seemed like a good, genuine person. And you deserve someone good and genuine… Cursing yourself, you snapped yourself out of those thoughts. There was no time to initiate relationships, and you could not let yourself fall into the trap of caring about him. That would only screw up your plan even more. You just had to focus on regaining control of Mandalore.

But he was a masked warrior who had the caring nature of a prince and the body of a God. He was a father. You knew there was so much more to him than what meets the eye and so… maybe it wouldn't be too bad to find out more about the mysterious Mandalorian, in some way or another. Yes, gaining power of Mandalore was your first priority but would it really be so bad to let yourself get close to Din in the process?

You'd been isolated your whole life and to say that you craved love and romance was an understatement. You looked into the hull of the ship where it was dark and quiet, and just about made out the sleeping silhouette of Din who was laying in his pilot chair. Just the gleam of his shiny beskar and his broad shoulders.

Kriff— he was hot.

And the sexual tension between you both was undeniable.

You bit your lower lip and let your hand wander down your tunic, your fingers nervously gracing the waistband of your underwear. Touching yourself in his bed would be so wrong… and yet you couldn't resist it. Your eyes felt heavy as you watched him, his chest rising up and down as he slept peacefully. Your finger dipped into your panties and you bit down onto the thin blanket in order to suppress a moan as you began to rub yourself to the thought of him.

He'd touched you plenty of times...his big, strong, gloved fingers grabbing you and holding you… it was so easy to get lost in the thoughts. Your eyes fluttered shut as you continued to play with yourself, secretly hoping that the Mandalorian would find you making a mess in his bed and punish you in some way or another.

You wondered if he'd be rough and heavy handed… or if he'd be sweet and compassionate. Either way, you were completely riled up and on the verge of hitting your climax when a loud flurry of beeping came from the cockpit. You gasped, your eyes snapping open and you shuffled to sit upright in the bed.

"Grogu," Din grumbled tiredly, and for the first time, you heard his voice raw and unmodulated. He'd taken off his helmet. "Go back to sleep. Told you not to press buttons when I'm not watching. You'll get us in trouble."

And your heart done a loop-de-loop.

You had just met the Mandalorian and already he had you wrapped around his finger.

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[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Of Monsters and Men

Chapter 6- Betrayer Moon

Summary: Temeria holds a beast that has been said to have slaughtered many. With the sweet sound of coins offered you’re ready for another wild hunt.

Warnings: lil smut we starting out with, gore and blood as per usual, fluff 

Masterlist

Outside the winds are cold and snowy as the night cascades its great darkness over the land of the Continent. But none of that holds any kind of significance as you lay in the warm bed of a village tavern, Geralt's muscular body pressing flush against your heated skin. You hold tightly onto the tousled bed sheets as he thrusts into you over and over again, nothing but the sweet sounds of his grunts and your pleasant moaning filling the darkly lit room but for a simple fire in the hearth.

He deliciously rocks you into the mattress as he gently kisses your sweaty temple, sending bolts of electricity coursing throughout your entire being as you await your building climax. With each new thrust of Geralt's manhood into your entrance, you try and hold back a scream but to no avail. He quickly silences you with a heated kiss, both of your tongues dancing in the dark with one another as he pushes your legs apart even more, his large body taking you all in.

He's a lot to handle but you can take it, no matter what he throws at you. Soon he's a moaning mess as he dumps his load into your clenching walls, hitting your own high just the same, you suddenly claw at his back as he pumps himself into you a couple more times before slowly leaning up to take a good look at your blissfully beautiful face. He gently pulls out of you, falling onto the bed at your side as the both of lay in silence, the only viable sounds coming from your heavy breaths and the crackling of the fireplace.

"So, I heard something interesting today." You begin, turning on your side to lean yourself into his chest as he stares at the ceiling, a satisfied smirk gracing his handsome features.

"Do tell." He quietly mumbles.

"I was conversing with some of the whores by the market today, asking about what interesting creatures have met their eyes and whatnot. When wouldn't you know it, another Witcher had come through this very village." He raises an eyebrow, curiosity catching his interest quick, "Said he fled Temeria with some miners coin when his ass was supposed to be killing their monster. I think foul play." You inquire, absentmindedly running your fingers over his battle scars, Geralt's intrigued by your words but is honestly enjoying himself too much to care about anything else at the moment.

Sighing in deep content he shifts his golden gaze onto you, "Tonight I will blissfully ignore my problems." He muses, closing his eyes as you continue to lightly trail your fingers against his skin, "Just uh...keeping doing that." A drunken smile gracing his sweaty face, as you break out into a grin while your eyes fully take in his glistening muscular form that's laying butt-ass naked right next to you. Oh, how did you get so lucky with a man like him?

The rest of the night is spent inside one another here and there, until you both fall asleep in an exhausted heap of tangled limbs and messy blankets. The next morning you two get dressed and head for Temeria, Geralt wisely leaving Roach with the stable boy until you both come back to retrieve her, whenever that may be.

The hike to Temeria went rather smoothly, no one to bother you and the cold of the winter weather doing nothing to freeze you, considering you're practically immune to feeling cold, another wondrous perk of being half vampire.

As you walk out of the shadowy woodland you look up to see a large abandoned castle stout upon the top of a rocky hill, thick forest surrounding it. Looking ahead you notice as the trail suddenly dives into the earth, lamps held up by steel poles guiding the way in, but before this you stop to read over a poster pinned to a wooden pole.

"Temeria, realm of monsters and cowardly kings." You turn to Geralt with an amused smirk upon your face, "Well it's nice to know they don't hold anything back." You laugh before turning to walk down the descending trail, Geralt smiling as he watches you go.

Your time in the mines was a quick one, the miners and the kings men on the verge of a tiny battle that was stopped by Geralt's calm inquisition. The high guard or whoever the fuck, lead you and your Witcher out of the mines and into the shadowy snow covered woods, you're guessing with interior motives but nonetheless you follow.

As you're walking next to Geralt, with the kingsmen on their steeds to either side of you; all of a sudden you catch the scent of another being lurking in the shadows. Another heartbeat thudding in the night, then not even ten seconds later do the guards fall from their horses, enchanted by some sleeping spell. Geralt quickly pulls out his silver sword as you bare your opened hands, emitting crackling purple lighting from your fingertips, this is sorcery at play and you know just how to fight it if need be.

"You can put down your sword...and calm your lightning. I'm not here to hurt you." Speaks a woman's calm voice, her shadowed silhouette walking into view.

"Says the witch hiding in the woods." Mutters Geralt defensively, sword still held out in front of him as you slowly lower your hands, dissipating away the lightning. You can tell this mage has come with no ill intent, even if you don't adherently feel very fond of such beings, you're wise enough to understand that not all are terrible.

"Sorceress." Corrects the curly haired woman.

"Witch." He growls darkly, you lightly touch him on the shoulder, silently asking him to calm is unneeded anger, he slowly brings his sword to his side.

"Triss Merigold. I serve King Foltest." She serenely replies. A simple mage.

"So he makes a show of kicking us out...then sends his errand girl to slip me some coin so we kill his monster." Proclaims Geralt smartly, believing he's just figured her out.

"Not a very original plan for a king." You add, your brows furrowing in thought.

"It's my plan. My coin. And I don't want you to kill the beast. I want you to help me save it." Assures Triss.

"Save it?" You ask.

Wanting to hear more she takes you both into her area within the castle where she goes into more detail about the happenings in the woods. Geralt leans against a counter as you sit on a wooden table, the both of you facing Triss who stands by a desk and chair directly in front of you.

"Six years ago, stable hands statred vanishing at the castle above the city. Before long, citizens were disappearing throughout all Temeria. Foltest's royal guards soon realized the creature was coming from the crypt where the king's sister Adda is buried. Rumor has it she was having an affair with a young man in town when she died."

oh the drama, you wanted to laugh when she said that but wisely chose against that.

"Was she pregnant?" You finally ask, your curiosity getting the better of you. Maybe that's why this beast is killing people?

"If she were, that would make her child the sole heir to the throne as Foltest never married." Explains Triss as her expression changes to a thoughtful one, "The king fled the castle, ignoring the rising death toll. After Nilfgaard overthrew their king, the Brotherhood couldn't risk it happening again, so they sent me here three months ago to cure the creature."

"Vukodlaks are freak mutations." Says Geralt, mind reeling with what this creature truly is.

"They can't be cured." You add as Triss' brows furrow, "A vukodlak is a type of mutated werewolf, its a beast that conceptualizes in the womb of a dead woman, this woman however must be pregnant. It's rare, but it happens."

"How strange, maybe if I take you to the creatures latest victim then you might have some understanding as to what it actually is."

"Worth a try."

Triss leads you and Geralt through the pre-burial section under the castle where all the dead lay awaiting their final home in the ground. The place reeks of death, spices to mask the dead smell, and too many salts and herbs doing their part to delay the decomposition process.

"Two thousand orens if either of you can tell me what exactly killed these people." Says Triss as all three of you scan over the cloaked bodies laying on wooden tables.

"You didn't want the people to know that it bested a Witcher. And you let them believe that he fled with their coin." Mutters Geralt.

"You two clearly weren't acquainted." At the end of the long cavernous room does she stop at a stone tub of white salt and sand, you can smell the dead man underneath. You walk past both of them before standing in front of the tub.

Taking a breath, you reach down to wipe away the white sand until the caved in chest of the fallen Witcher is revealed. You stick your hand inside the opened chest cavity to gather a mental image of what could be missing. You look over at a curious Geralt, "His hearts missing along with his liver."

"Only one creature I know is that picky an eater. A striga." Explains Geralt while you remove your wandering hand from within the broken rib cage to wipe it off on your pants. You then turn back around to face Triss and Geralt, noting how the mages face begins morphing into that of befuddlement.

"Strigas are old wives' tales." She replies, not completely sure of herself.

You shrug, "They're very rare as are the vukodlak, but they can happen. However the only way to make one is through a curse." You add, crimson eyes trailing over the mutilated body of the dark haired Witcher. So this is really what became of that other Witcher, better him then Geralt, nonetheless he fought bravely.

"Someone wanted Adda dead." Realizes Triss as Geralt hums in agreement.

"But the curse didn't stop with Adda. It turned her daughter into a monster." Triss' head tilts in surprised puzzlement at your troubling knowledge.

"Her daughter?"

"Strigas are female. This striga's a princess." Concludes Geralt with a sigh, his gaze searching for your own perplexed expression as you turn around to face him and Triss who still looks rather disturbed.

"Well then, lets see if this king of yours is willing to let us help." You quip at Triss as you begin leading the way out of the large burial room. "Can't be that difficult now can it?"

——

"Miss Merigold, you were dispatched to settle a family affair, not to enlist a mutant mercenary and a rouge hybrid for a game of sleuthing." Argues one of the kings guardsmen as King Foltest hungrily rips apart a turkey leg, rather disgustingly if you're being honest. He even smells of meat and sweat.

"This is no game, Captain. Tonight is a full moon, Geralt and Y/N have already proved themselves to be invaluable. We believe we can cure the creature." Implores Triss urgently as she vouches for you, Geralt, and her pertinent point at hand. You just lean yourself against the rooms wallpaper as Geralt stands next to you, feeling a bit doubtful that she'll be able to convince any of them.

"You say she's a girl. Then you will refer to her as Her Royal Highness." Directs the kings guard before his other man, who instructed for you and Geralt to leave Temeria only yesterday, walks over to give his two cents.

"Segelin." He says introducing himself before continuing, "I believe urgency warrants flexibility in a court decorum. The Witcher's theory is nonsense. Princess Adda was the people's angel. Who'd wish to murder her?" Implores the man Segelin as his eyes wander over to you and then to Geralt, eyeing you both suspiciously.

"What about her lover?" You inquire, folding your arms over your leather armored chest.

"Seditious rumors. Idle courtesans trading out boredom for jealousy." Quickly replies the kings guardsman giving you a distasteful look.

"Perhaps if you'd call off your guards, if we were able to search the abandoned castle, we could find clues as to who cursed her." Explains Triss, attempting to convince the king. That's not a bad idea.

"Except, these two monster hunters would kill the princess as she sleeps, and collect the miners' coin." Argues Segelin as you simply roll your crimson eyes at the grey bearded man. What's got water up his breeches?

"Call her a princess. Call her a unicorn if you'd like to." Begins Geralt, "She grew inside Adda, feeding on her petrified womb."

"Have you no respect?!" Shouts the guardsmen defensively, the king just continues his gruesome assault on his turkey leg as he listens.

"Mutating. Growing for years till she got so hungry..." Geralt steps closer, the guardsmen laying a quick hand upon the hilt of his sheathed sword as Geralt continues unfazed, "she was forced to slither out. Rotten muscle, bent bones, two spidery legs, claws dragging in the dirt." You watch in satisfaction as the kings eyes flash with disgust. You've got him.

"An overgrown abortion." You add shrewdly, pushing yourself off of the wall as you walk next to the long table, the kings face cast down in deep thought as the other men throw you nasty glares.

"Enough." He snaps, setting down his half eaten leg of turkey.

"Your Highness?" Begins the loyal concerned guardsmen.

"Leave." Growls the king menacingly, his men nodding before making their way for the door, Triss, Geralt, and you following.

Opening up the door first, Geralt politely opens it, offering his hand for the others to follow out, you giving him a wink as you tail the guardsmen who's last to leave. As soon as you reach the doors entrance you quickly shove the guardsmen into the hallway before Geralt quickly shuts the doors on all of them, making sure to lock it as they shout their angry protests.

You listen to the pounding on the wood as you calmly walk past Geralt to the right side of the long table, leaning your hand onto the clothed wood as he casually rests an arm over a great oaken chair, opposite of the king.

"Who's the princess' father?" Immediately asks Geralt with a curious tilt of his head, the king glaring bitterly.

"My men will kill you two, bastards." He warns darkly, Geralt pulls his arm away from the chair to slowly approach him, you standing your ground while he walks past you.

Eyeing up the plump king, you slowly drag your fingers over the wood while taking small steps closer, "Your threats don't shake me, but it's funny...you learn your sister was murdered, and you didn't even flinch." Your sly remark has the king's eyes staring daggers at his roast turkey, while Geralt hums in agreement, walking himself towards a window before turning around to lean himself on a wooden cabinet as he faces the king.

"But the moment I mention the girl's father.." King Foltest purses his lips together, his eyes downcast onto the floor, "Why were you never married?" Questions Geralt smoothly, the king lets out a sigh as he leans back into his chair.

"You are speaking to a king." He proclaims with no heat is in his words, other then something else that he seems to be hiding from you both.

"That's exactly my point. Why not produce your own heir? Why not kill the striga and avoid this revolt? Why drag this all out?" Suggests Geralt, his brows furrowing together at the strange reason for everything that's happened. You walk over closer to the king, his beady eyes following you the whole time, you've already figured out the possible truth. And why must it be so disgusting too?

Raising an eyebrow, you reveal a small smirk to the glaring king, "Between the three of us, and I would dare not tell...who is the striga's father?" King Foltest appears to want to say something, almost willing to answer your question. But instead he looks to the window as he slowly rises from his seat, bringing his gaze back over to Geralt.

"I remember hearing stories about Witcher's when I was a child." He says, voice low and gravely while eying up Geralt, turning his sullen gaze upon you now, "And that of dhampirs. Is it true what they say? That you're neither living nor dead, unkillable but for silver?" Sneers the sweaty king, anger emitting from his every word, "That the mutations that grant Witcher's their...abilities. Also erase your emotions? Must be." He criticizes sharply eyeing the two of you with hate, "Cause only a person devoid of all heart could accuse a brother of bedding his murdered sister while urging him to kill her." Suddenly the doors burst open, a small handful of yelling guards racing in with their weapons bared, you don't even flinch as a second later the king throws a hand into the air, silently commanding them to halt.

He turns to you then back to Geralt, "Leave Temeria. Never return." His command is noted as Geralt gives him a nod before turning to walk out the door. You follow suit and smile at a nervous guard who looks like he might have just shit himself. The both of you silently walk out of the castle, deciding to make a new plan of attack.

——

Crouching on the roof of the abandoned castle as the wind and snow blows past your face, you slowly crawl closer to the front gates. Where two incredibly anxious guards converse about how much longer their post is until they may leave. Quietly you pull out a loose piece of the castles roofing, before chucking it into the direction of a crow where the bird and the ceiling make a loud rackety noise as they take off elsewhere. To your utter satisfaction the two nervous guards yell and book it down the cobblestone pathway and away from the castle.

Well that was easy enough.

Pleased with your harmless mischievousness, you decide to find your own way into the castle while Geralt takes the front entrance. You find a broken rotting part in the roofs wooden beamed structure where you then purposefully slip through, falling down to the floor, catching yourself at the very last moment as you levitate your body the rest of the way for a silent and painless landing.

The castle smells of mystery and dead rats as you walk quietly throughout the gloomy thing, suddenly your ears pricking to the sounds of Geralt and Triss rummaging around in someone's room down the hall. With a smirk upon your lips you stalk closer, listening to them speak about letters from Adda's mother as they both begin walking for the door.

As soon as you catch sight of Triss' oblivious face do you finally make yourself known, turning your skin the color of bluish pale grey, the whites of your eyes turning to black as your scarlet irises practically glow red. You hiss, baring your pearly white fangs, her face contorts into pure dreadful fear as she lets out a surprised scream. Geralt suddenly rushing to her side, his magic at the ready before his concerned face slackens to throw you an amused glare.

Cackling you turn back into your more presentable self, "You two find anything?" You wheeze as Triss gathers her bearings.

Breathing heavily she practically stares daggers at you, "Oh yes, just a fucking heart attack!" She breathlessly retorts, throwing you a harsh glare as Geralt walks past her. The corners of his lips pulling up into a smirk as he catches your entertained gaze, you smiling back at him like a fool in love.

"You're an ass." She mutters, shaking her head at you while she follows Geralt down the dreary shadowed hallway. An enthralled grin upon your beaming features as you tail behind them.

——

Once back inside Triss' lair of sorts within the castle walls, unbeknownst to King Foltest, the three of you let Segelin in on what they found in the ruined castle. He stands, eyes cast onto the letters, "A Queen Mother cursing her own children for their affair." He plops the old papers onto a table, "This could destroy the throne." He says dismally while leaning, both hands pressed to the wooden table.

"Sancia wanted Adda to get rid of the child." Says Geralt, concluding all that appears to be written down in those letters between Adda and her Queen Mother.

"It seems she refused. Repeatedly." Adds Triss while you all stare at the back of the man.

Segelin sighs, "And now she's taken that curse with her to the grave."

Triss clasps her hands together, "You've served the family for decades. Was Sancia involved in dark sorcery of any kind?"

He turns to look at her, "No. Of course not." His expression reveals no faults, yet you feel something is not right here. He's not nearly surprised enough about all of this.

Touching a dangling green plant that hangs out over a wooden cupboard, you raise a brow at him, "What was your relationship to Adda?"

He rests his hands casually against the long desk behind him, "Well, I like to think that she saw me as a confidant." He smiles, "And a protector, even. We used to talk at great length about her troubles. She could be very naïve."

"She ever mention her brother?" Asks Geralt from his place by the wall, a foot or so away from you and Triss' plants.

Segelin looks down at the letters, "Certainly not like this."

"She was ashamed." Says Triss as Segelin turns to face her.

"Or she was frightened. What if the relationship was not.." He pauses a moment like he can't even bring himself to say it, his eyes trail over the three of you, "..consensual?"

Geralt hums in thought at this indeed interesting bout of information, he looks to Segelin, "You think he raped Adda, then cursed the child to cover it up?"

"Well, kings have done more for less."

Geralt's eyes fall elsewhere, "True." He mutters as you mull over everything previously said. This doesn't sit right with you at all.

You take a step away from the plants, "There's only one wrinkle, though." Both Triss and Geralt watch as you stand almost threateningly in front of Segelin, they have not a clue what you're doing. The greying man eyes you nervously, you narrow your eyes at him, "Your scent was on her sheets."

Triss takes a step foreward, "Y/N?"

Your crimson eyes never leave him once, "Old ones...and new ones."

He leans away from you, "What would I be doing in a dead girl's bed?" He accuses, face shifted into a repulsed grimace. You lean in closer so that your mouth remains mere inches from his ear, he's visibly uncomfortable.

"I smelt what you were doing."

You move backwards to stand in from of the conflicted man, he says not a single word as you patiently wait for him to break. The moment lasts a couple seconds more, you can hear how loud his heart is pounding within his chest. His lip quivers, breathing increasing with anxiousness, "Foltest had no right!" Shouts the angered man while you scowl and step away, "He seduced Adda! Abused his position. He was always nagging her for attention. Always nagging! But he didn't love her....I did."

"You cursed the woman you loved?" Denounces Triss like a disappointed mother.

Segelin shakes his head, "I cursed Foltest, not her."

"Countless are dead because of your jealousy."

"Countless are dead because of Foltest!" Protests Segelin, "He spoiled Adda with his seed. He refuses to kill this striga. He lies to his people. And yet you wag your finger in my face."

"If you wanted him to suffer, you could have just exposed the affair." Counters Triss while the three of you stare down the heated man.

"And hurt Adda?" He says softly, "Never. Her memory will not be sullied, not while I'm alive to protect it." Geralt glances from you to him.

"Tell us how to lift the curse."

Segelin pauses a moment before looking defiantly up at your Witcher, "No. Foltest will watch as Temeria turns against him. Just as he turned Adda against me." Geralt hums in response.

Fed up with his excuses you walk up to him, he slightly cowers back before keeping straight again, a snobby expression upon his greying features before you crack him across the temple. Sending him falling to the ground in an instant as he plunges into unconsciousness.

"Y/N." You turn to face Triss.

"What? You were all thinking it."

——

Waiting atop the crumbling castle roof where this striga is soon to be, you watch from above as Geralt and King Foltest speak about how you and him will handle the princess. He gives the king Renfri's brooch as a gift for the princess incase Geralt does not live to see the light of day. You watch the king and his men finally leave, letting Geralt enter the dying castle as he looks up towards the roof for a second before turning his gaze for the wooden doors.

Taking the same route as earlier in the day, you soon find yourself in Adda's room. Segelin tied pathetically to the wooden beams of the dead princess' bed as your unwilling captive. Geralt brooding by the window as he thinks of what to do next, none of you truly having a solid clue as to what should be done about this royal striga. You watch when the greying man glares at you, blood smeared across his lips from your abrupt assault not even an hour ago.

"The both of you! This is madness!" He cries angrily, tugging at his cloth restraints, "What are we doing here? What's happening?" He wonders while searching desperately around the room for a nonexistent answer.

"How can we lift the curse." Mutters Geralt, his leather armored back to you and Segelin.

Segelin shakes his head, "No! This is not right. Foltest must pay for what he did." Whines Segelin once more, you simply fold your arms in irritation as the man looks to you for a sign that you care, which you most defiantly don't.

Rolling your eyes, you scowl at him, "You're already too blind to even comprehend your own faults. This is what you get for your childish actions." You mutter bitterly as he glares hopelessly at you, frustration clearly evident on his dirty face.

"Carry me out. I order you." Demands Segelin as Geralt turns around to face the desperate man. "Tell us how to lift the curse." He orders, Segelin huffs in frustration, avoiding Geralt's intimidating gaze.

In a blur of black and grey your hand is suddenly around his neck as his eyes go wide in stunned alarm, your squeeze isn't enough to choke him, but you're hopeful it's enough to change his mind. "I'd advise you to listen well, your life is already standing on the edge of a knife." You hiss maliciously in his ear before releasing him, he lets out a dramatic gasp as his wide eyes follow your every movement.

He turns his attention from you to Geralt as his mouth opens to finally answer, "Sh-She was hiding from the Brotherhood. She sold me a lamb....Sh-She told me to wait until a full moon, to wait and then to kill it." He stammers, Geralt crouching down to meet his eye level, "And then I recited some silly chant. And then I bathed in the lamb's blood until sunrise. Until the rooster crowed three times. And that is all. I swear. I swear. Now please let us leave." Begs Segelin desperately as he fruitlessly pulls against his constraints, your face falling into a frown, understanding immediately what this idiot has done.

"What was the chant?" Wonders Geralt, his brows furrowing in thought while he stares daggers at Segelin who looks down in frustration.

"Uh..It was years ago." Protests Segelin as he tries to think up the chant, "It was Elven. Um..." Suddenly he begins reciting an Elven curse, your eyes going wide in realization as Geralt shares a quick wary glance with you before racing over to his bag of potions, earning a confused expression from the bound man.

"Wh-what is it? The..I...I've done what's been asked. What more can I do?" He wonders in blissful ignorance as you let out a pissed off huff of air.

"You've done more than enough you perverted fool, unless you can keep a fucking striga out of her crypt until a fucking rooster crows three times." You snap while unsheathing your dagger, his face falling in frightened understanding as Geralt fumbles around with his potions, trying to find the right one to take before the action starts.

Segelin's eyes go downcast, his whole aurora turning to pure dread, "You're gonna have to fight it till dawn." He murmurs softly, staring at the far wall as Geralt downs a potion, his eyeballs turning into two pools of inky darkness. You turn, hastily walking for the door as Geralt quickly follows behind you.

"No. No. Come back here! Please. Please! You'd leave a man bound to die in such indignity?" He cries desperately, pulling on his restraints but to no avail.

"You're not a man." Growls Geralt as he takes his place by your side, the two of you walking down the dreary hallway as the snow falls lightly from outside the nearby broken windows, you catching the scent of the beast on the cool night air.

"Remember not to kill the princess, Y/N" Implores your Witcher with a smirk, you simply roll your eyes.

"We'll see if you can last till dawn my love, I don't doubt it." You retort, a suggestive tone hidden in your voice that's most definitely caught by Geralt.

The hallway breaks off into another section of the abandoned castle, you giving him a nod before turning in that direction, deciding it best to take on the royal beast from two sides if he gets caught up in some trouble. You silently walk down the dusty corridor past rotting wood and broken glass, cracked pieces of stone and the occasional human bones.

The enthralling shriek of the striga bellows throughout the castle walls, it's high pitched scratchy scream sounding like a knife that's stabbed you in the ears. Without another thought you race down the entrance-way towards the sounds of a great messy struggle, the princess has found Geralt, and she doesn't seem too pleased.

Turning round another stony corner, you halt dead in your tracks as your scarlet eyes zero in on the striga who's completely manhandling your Witcher, throwing him this way and that, deflecting every punch he's throwing at her. He suddenly rips a lamp from the wall and uses it to crack her across the side of her grotesque wrinkly head. She stumbles back at the violent impact, pain running throughout her body before she quickly recovers, hurling him backwards with a fiercely strong blow.

As Geralt falls onto his back you swiftly race down the hallway as the striga climbs on top of his armored body. She doesn't hear you coming, or when you electrocute her without warning, sending her flying into the nearby wall as she screeches in pain. You stop to help Geralt up, your right hand crackling with energy as he stands and glances down at the light emitting from it, then over to the pissed off princess. Who almost immediately recovers from her abrupt assault, she stands, her umbilical cord dragging as she stalks over towards the two of you.

In an instant she charges, a piercing scream sending your ears into agony at the frantic noise as Geralt lunges for her, grabbing her shoulders as he throws her against the brick wall.

For the next couple hours would you and Geralt take turns beating on the striga, down this hallway and that, into doors and wooden walls, crashing into cabinets and breaking more cracked windows through the struggle. Every fucking time she would recover and throw it back at you ten fold, like nothing had even happened in the first place.

Racing across the hall to Geralt's aid, you electrocute the royal beast just before she's about to bite into his exposed jugular, she falls back as you get closer, preparing to hopefully knock her ugly face unconscious for a while. You're slowly getting more and more fatigued with every couple minutes that fly by, this fucking striga giving you a real run for your money. No matter how much stamina you have.

But as you get within a few feet from her, she whips around, slashing you across the face with her razor sharp claws. Sending you flying into the wall as a hot stream of blood pours out of your freshly opened wounds. Dazed, you try and raise yourself from the ground and watch as Geralt gets pinned down by the striga once again. You blink back your blurry vision, painfully raising your hand as lightning brightly emits from your opened palm and fingertips just as Geralt uses his magic to break the stone flooring from right out under him.

Himself and the striga immediately falling through the broken floor and straight to the crypts below. Rising to your feet, you can feel as your facial wounds begin to fuse the skin back together again, your injury a thing of the past except for the strips of blood that mark it's path.

You hastily limp over to the hole in the ground, looking down to find Geralt laying in the rubble before slowly getting up. Without another thought, you jump down, landing hard on a pile of rocks as the unconscious striga lays motionless next to you. Pulling yourself up from the wreckage, you tiredly shuffle over to the center of the room as Geralt puts an enchantment onto the doorways so that the creature cannot escape.

"I don't know about you but I could think of ten different ways we could have spent tonight." You jest, breathing heavily as you hold onto your aching side, Geralt hums in reply before turning around and freezing, his face morphing into wariness as he gives you a concerned look. You turn around to see what's bothering him, only to find absolutely nothing, which is most definitely the problem.

"Oh fuck." You whisper as Geralt cautiously walks over to you, the both of you looking around the room as you stand back to back.

You hear a dull rapid thudding of a heartbeat before suddenly the striga jumps down from the crumbling ceiling to pounce at Geralt, she lands, whipping her hand across your chest as she picks him up, throwing him into the nearby stone pillar. You stumble back at the abrupt impact, watching as Geralt gets his ass beat by the pissed off striga, it throws him into another pillar, quickly turning around to race for the open doorway. But before it can get through, the white force field knocks her back, she snaps around once more shrieking in rage, bolting on all fours towards Geralt.

You pull your bruised and tired body onto your feet, reaching your hands out to send volts of hot white lightning into the vessel of the striga, sending her into a cruel stone pillar as she screeches in misery. When you look to your left a beautiful streak of orange sunrise emits from an opened spot in the roof, you breath heavily as the striga and Geralt take notice of the sunlight. Your eyes go wide as the creature races for the safety of her dirty crypt, you trailing behind her as Geralt jumps to his feet to follow.

Your boots pound against the gravely stone of the abandoned crypts as you valiantly throw yourself onto the furious princess while she attempts to launch herself into her resting place, she falls into the wall as your hands smack onto the cracked floor.

"Get in the fucking crypt!" You scream at Geralt as he makes a mad dash for the opened tomb, heeding to your rushed words without a second thought.

You watch as he falls into the stony coffin and shutting it just as the striga launches herself onto the thing, her cries and horrid wails sounding noisily throughout the large drafty room. Picking up a fist sized rock you chuck it at her, cracking her perfectly across the back of her grotesque head.

"Your royal pain-in-the-ass, come and get me." You taunt, lightning crackling from your fingertips as the angry princess snaps her attention to you.

She jumps down and immediately pummels you into the rocks as you send harrowing sparks of electricity into her body that thankfully throws her backwards, your vision going blurry once again. Gods your head hurts. Dark spots cloud your sight as you rest on the rocks in exhaustion, your side most definitely hurting as your eyes flutter closed.

You awaken to the sounds of Geralt as he opens up the tomb and steps out to walk over towards the princess, a concerned and astonished expression crossing over his dirty features. Pushing some ruble from your legs you finally stand and slowly walk down the small stairway as Geralt leans down to see if the princess is actually okay, considering her naked mud covered self is facing away from you both.

You can hear as her heartbeat picks up in pace, but before you're able to warn him, the princess turns around and in a confused rage pins him to the ground just as she sinks her teeth into the side of his neck. She falls back in fear as Geralt's pained gaze finds your own bloody face while you race to his side. Your eyes going wide as he lays upon the stony ground, blood seeping out from his mouth and ripped neck as you try and put pressure on it.

Tears slowly begin building up in your shimmering irises, "No. No. No...Geralt, look at me...look at me." You desperately plea as his golden eyes try and stay open for you, but he's slipping as more blood spurts out from his wounds, "Don't you fucking leave me you prick, not now of all times, or places. Geralt!" You cry as his eyelids flutter shut, his breathing slowing down as you try and cover his bleeding neck the best you can, not sure what to do. If you leave and try to get help he'll bleed to death, but if you stay then his chances are less grim but still uncertain.

Your mind swirls with what's the best course of action when suddenly you hear the rushed steps of Triss coming to your aid, and just in the nick of time.

——

Leaning yourself into the welcoming comfort of Triss' plush lounge chair, you watch as she mixes some more healing ingredients into a marble bowl at her work counter. You touch the side of your torso where a white linen wrap tightly hugs around your aching side where you fell on Geralt's silver sword. It throbs under your soft touch, but due to your immaculate healing capabilities your wounds will not bother you in a couple days time.

Turning your head lazily to the right to find a sleeping Geralt laying on the bed, recovering from his own injuries, you idly smile at his peaceful yet considerably less dirty form. Suddenly his eyes fly open, a puzzled expression upon his handsome features as Triss calmly turns around.

She smiles fondly at him, "Your scars. You heal quite nicely, if not for Y/N's blood you would most certainly be dead." She concludes knowingly as Geralt gives her a confused look, "She dropped some of her blood into your wounds to speed up the healing process. It was more effective then I had first realized." He turns to face you, a relieved sigh escaping from his parted lips.

You smile back at him, "Don't worry about the princess, she'll be fine, Triss has arranged for her to stay with the Sisters of Melitele." You chime in with a shrug, "Also she had her first bath."

"You should know Foltest issued a statement. The honorable Lord Ostrit gave his life to slay the vukodlak. Miners are gathering ore for a statue." Adds Triss with a grin as Geralt attempts to get up, "Anyone else would've killed the princess. You both chose not to." She finishes as Geralt painfully rises into a sitting position, a grimace upon his sweaty face.

"We'll take our coin now. I need to get back to my horse." Grunts your eager Witcher as he sits on the side of the bed, pressing his hand against his wrapped torso. Triss only grins in reply, walking over to hand him the leather sack of coins. He quickly takes it with a nod, Triss turning to flash you a knowing smile before excusing herself from the area.

Turning to Geralt with a frown, you search for his eyes as they glance around the room before landing on you, "Lay down you idiot, I watched you bleed out and go as pale as a ghost." You lightly argue, he sets the coins onto the makeshift bed as he finds your frowning gaze once more, "If I hadn't been there to give you some of my blood...fuck...you'd be dead. So don't you dare try and get up or I'll give you a reason to be in pain."

His stern face suddenly breaks out into an amused grin, "I'd rather not face your wrath my dear, although I wouldn't mind a couple more hours here if you decide to lay next to me." He suggests with pleading eyes, ones that know exactly how to win you over.

Leaning into the soft back of your seat, you cross your arms over your chest, "You're sweating, honestly still smell a bit, and your sheets are stained with blood..." You add with an inquiring raise of your brow, "How could I ever say no to such an alluring offer?" He breaks out into a beaming smile at your humored words, his heart just about fluttering in his muscular chest as you suddenly rise to your feet, walking over to him before crawling over to his other side near the wall. You turn to face him, a hand propped up against your head while you watch him lay down once again. His back touches the mattress as he turns his head to face you, a blissful smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

"Yes. That's the face right there, the suave steely golden eyes that I've fallen in love with. No matter how beat up you get...you still make me feel things."

"What kind of things, hmm?" He wonders with a lazy smirk as he watches your face break out into a small smile.

Trailing your delicate touch over his old scars, you look over to him with tired eyes, "Things I wouldn't even dare share with the very stars in the sky, nor the moon herself. And I tell her everything." You muse before leaning over to kiss his exposed shoulder. You listen as he hums in delight while you scoot yourself close enough that your whole body is flush against his, "Just sleep for now, love. You've had quite the rough night...and that's putting it lightly. I honestly thought for a moment that...that uh...I might have lost you." He searches for your hand, holding it tightly as a small way to comfort you while he locks eyes with your own downcast ones.

"I wouldn't dare think of ever leaving you alone in this world, not for a second. Y/N you mean more to me then all the coins and jewels combined, more then...uh..."

Laughing you shift your face to gently kiss his bare shoulder before looking up at him once again, "Geralt, there's not a lot of things that you love. That's honestly some short list you've got there...but it matters not, I'm your favorite person in the world and that's all I need to know."

He smiles adoringly at your closing eyes, sleep tenderly calling to you by the second as you hug him closer. He stays silent, wanting to listen to the calming thumps of your relaxed heart beat as your mind drifts into slumber. Closing his own tired eyes, he finally lets sleep take him into darkness where no monsters of any kind wait to hurt him. He's safe in your arms as you're safe in his, the two of you blissfully enjoying one another's company after a taxing hunt.

-

Tagged: @notahappytree​ @ashleyforeverareject​ @sokkasdarling​ @kmuir1​@haleypearce @diegos-butt​ (@auds24 sorry idk why ur name won’t work)

[wondernimbus]

broken people — george weasley

pairing: george weasley x female!reader

prompt: Hi! First of all I love your work, you hit me right in the feels every time. If your requests aren’t open that’s fine, but I can’t get the idea of reader somehow getting her memory wiped by Voldemort and George tries so hard to get it back. Lots of angst and you can decide the ending! Again sorry to bother you if it’s to much. Sending love xx

a/n: i didn't want this to get too long so the ending is kind of unresolved n sad :0  might write a pt 2

requests are open. please refrain from plagiarizing my work!

The fourth floor of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

George has it memorized by now.

The long-term spell damage ward.

When the metal doors clang open and he finds himself standing at the end of the long hallway, he pauses, for a moment, inside of the lift. Takes a few brief seconds to take all of it in as he has done every day for the past six months: the bare white walls on either side of the hall, the benches outside of each door that are usually left unoccupied save for the occasional visitor every two weeks or so—because this is the ward for long-term patients; people who live here, have lived here ever since whatever horrible thing happened to them, waiting for life to somehow go back to normal despite the sheer hopelessness of it all. And these benches are left unoccupied for a reason: that being life moves on, and families and friends have to let go eventually. And these patients are left to rot here waiting for a cure that won’t come.

But of course no one puts it that way, and they call it the long-term ward instead of the "forever damned" ward, because that doesn't sound all too optimistic, does it? Long-term instead of practically dead.

Today, George brings two sandwiches if only for the sake of positivity. His mum had insisted. It’s a feeble attempt to convince him that today is somehow special, that it’s the day he’s been waiting for for so long. That she will wake up today and they’ll eat these bloody sandwiches together.

But what are the chances?

George makes the familiar trek down the hallway. He takes a left turn, then a right, greeting the Healers who know him by name. He’s been coming here everyday for six months without fail, even if it’s only to catch a brief glimpse of her, even if the larger part of him knows she isn’t likely to wake up any time soon. So of course the Healers know him, and he them. George says his hellos to the other patients, too, as he passes by the recreation room.

A seven-year-old girl hops out of an open doorway just as he passes by. It only takes him a brief moment of surprise before he grins and says, “Hello, Aimee,” he crouches down so that he’s eye-level with her. “You look very pretty today.”

Aimee smiles widely back at him, twirling around in her little hospital gown. George lets out a quiet laugh and meets the eyes of a frazzled-looking healer who appears at the end of the hallway and immediately seems to calm down upon seeing Aimee.

“Did you wander away again, Aimee?” scolds George playfully.

She smiles bashfully, nodding, and George's heart aches a little as he wonders, not for the first time since he'd come across her, what her voice sounds like. Something like Ginny’s, back when she was this small, probably.

Aimee was cursed to feel pain every time she uttered a word—George had learned this a few months ago from one of the Healers—so he has never heard her voice. And given the circumstances, he’d rather not.

He remembers the paper bag in his hands. "She might wake up today," his mother had told him. The sad look in her eyes didn't go amiss.

George hadn't had the heart to tell her that it wasn't likely, but he took the damn sandwiches anyway.

Now, he takes one of the sandwiches out of his paper bag and holds it out to her. Beaming, she takes it, hugging him as thanks, and disappears down the hall with the healer trailing after her.

What are the chances, after all?

He continues on his way to her room. George has these walls memorized by now, could find his way to her with his eyes closed.

But something is different today.

George pauses just as he rounds the corner and spots them: the group of Healers huddled around the door, peering in or speaking amongst themselves, and when they notice George heading toward them, they all pause—and the sight would have been funny if George wasn't so stunned.

And at that moment he feels something he hadn't felt in much too long—feels something like hope flood him for the first time in six months.

What are the chances?

—

[Y/N]'s life begins again in a hospital ward.

The fourth floor of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, the middle-aged lady with the blond hair tells her. The long-term spell damage ward.

She is a Healer. And she is here to help.

But why?

How are you feeling? Fine.

Do you know why you're here? No. I'm sorry.

Six months ago, there was a war. You were taken captive and tortured for information. The strain of it.. took a toll on your brain. You have been unconscious ever since. I don't understand.

That's fine. Can you tell me if you remember anything? I.. I don't know. no. I don't know my name—why don't I know my own name?

It's alright, honey. It's alright. Calm down.

"They told me she was awake." Another voice. [Y/N]'s head snaps up; in the doorway there is a man—no, a boy, with red hair and eyes that are wet and wide with shock and something—something else that she can't quite place.

[Y/N] stares at him and feels an inexplicable pang go through her chest—hears a far-off echo inside of her head, a whisper of a name, something. But it slips farther and farther away the more she tries to grab at it, that tiny, tiny semblance of recognition, and for some reason this makes her anxious—it makes her panic. She edges farther along her bed until her back hits the wall, putting as much space as possible between her and the Healer and this boy in the doorway as she buries her head in her hands, fingers clawing at her ears as though to block everything out—

"I don't know my name,” she whispers. “I don't know any of you—"

Another Healer appears in the doorway. "I'm sorry, Healer Paige, he was insisting—"

"That's quite alright. Please leave the room, Mr. Weasley."

"I'm not leaving until I—"

"Mr. Weasley." The blond Healer—no, Healer Paige's voice is stern, but there's an undeniable sense of sympathy. "Please exit the room quietly."

The boy with the red hair steps forward, striding towards her, but the other Healer holds him back by the arm. "Let go of me, I need to—"

"Mr. Weasley—"

"What’s wrong? Why can't I talk to her?"

[Y/N] curls in further into herself, head bowed as she hunches over into a ball, whimpering something that sounds like get out of my head.

"We're facing.. some unexpected symptoms. We will explain as soon as we can, but for now you need to leave."

"What the bloody hell does that even mean?"

"Please escort him out of the room. It would be best for you to come back tomorrow."

Get out get out get out.

"[Y/N]?"

[Y/N]. She stills. Feels something inside her head, like a lightbulb flickering to life. Dim and weak and barely enough to shed light on the dark, empty recesses of her brain, but it's still there. And she hangs onto it.

She looks up, straight at the boy with the red hair. His eyes are frustrated, but they soften the second they meet hers.

"[Y/N]," she repeats, heart pounding erratically inside of her chest like it knows she’s edging closer and closer to something important. "Is that my name?”

—

My name is [Y/N]. Six months ago I was tortured and lost all of my memories. I am twenty years old but I have no recollection of what happened in all of those twenty years.

All I know is that my name is [Y/N], and for now I will start from there.

The next morning consists of a flurry of Healers coming through the door running tests and figuring out what the bloody hell went wrong with her. [Y/N] sits on the edge of her bed, feeling oddly numb, only speaking when she is spoken to.

She has her own questions: who is her family? Where is she from? Why was she tortured, and for what kind of information? Will she ever get her memories back? Should she want to get her memories back?

But hours pass by and none of her questions ever make it past her lips. When all of the Healers filter out of the room and Healer Paige is the only one left, [Y/N] clutches her pillow to her chest, fingers digging into it the same way they have been for the past few hours.

And only then does she look up, eyes filling up with tears, and goes—"Am I going to be okay?"

The sympathy in Healer Paige's eyes shines clear as day. After a moment's hesitation, she nods. "It's highly unlikely that you'll ever get your memories back, but I encourage you to be.. open-minded.

"Your family is outside. They've been waiting to see you. I know it will be strange, but—they are still your family. And they still love you, even though you don't quite know them, or at least not yet. I ask you to be brave."

Her family. [Y/N] inhales sharply, a crease forming in between her brows. How odd would it be for her parents to see her and to realize that the girl before them is a mere shell of their daughter?

Moments later, a man, a woman, and a little boy appear in the doorway.

Her family.

Hesitant greetings are made. [Y/N] may have lost her memories but she isn't blind to the way all of these people are looking at her—so terribly sad, and each time they meet her eyes it's like they're trying to gauge a memory out of her. Pleading with her to remember.

And [Y/N] wants to—she really does. But all she can offer them is a small smile and a quiet "how are you". When the woman—her mother—excuses herself and leaves the room, obviously in tears, [Y/N] sits there feeling so utterly out of place, wondering if she should comfort her.

But she can't even meet their eyes without feeling awkward—without feeling like she's doing something wrong—so when they all leave, [Y/N] slides back under her covers, brows furrowed, trying so hard to remember, to find their faces in the massive hole of her memory.

But she doesn't. She can't. She feels like she should be crying, but what is there to cry about?

Everything that she lost.. she can't mourn them, can't cry for them, because she just doesn't remember. And so she is left to lay there, staring up at the ceiling, searching the dark void inside her head for even the smallest glimmer of light.

Needless to say, her efforts are to no avail.

—

Visitors aren't allowed.

George stands in the lobby of St. Mungo's, staring at the man behind the counter. Ben—they know each other by now.

"But they told me to come back today," he says, throat feeling oddly tight, but he forces out a small laugh to mask it. "I'm supposed to see her today."

"I'm sorry, George. It's what her Healers said—but if you want, Healer Paige is on duty. You can go up there and talk to her yourself, if you have any questions."

So that's what George does: he takes the familiar journey to the lift, and to the fourth floor, and then to Healer Paige's office.

She tells him [Y/N] has already seen her family today, and it wouldn't be wise to overwhelm her with other people. George sits in front of the desk, brows furrowed.

"But it's better to get started as soon as possible, isn't it?" he asks, voice still constricted the same way it has been this entire morning, like there's a lump stuck in his throat. "So that she can remember faster."

The resigned look in Healer Paige's eyes fills George with dread. "I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley."

When George walks through the doors of the still closed joke shop, it's only then that everything he has been trying to hold inside bursts out of him and he finds himself sinking to his knees at the threshold, much to the shock of his twin brother, who rushes at him asking questions that he doesn't want to answer. All he does is sob out barely coherent words—she doesn't remember anything, she doesn't even know who I am, I was supposed to ask her to marry me.

How cruel is it, and how ironic, that after six whole excruciating months of waiting and waiting and waiting, she wakes up, finally, just as George had hoped for, but this is what the universe gives him?

It's not fair that he remembers everything. It's not fair that George remembers how they met, how they first kissed, how much they loved. It's not fair that he knows all of her little quirks, has memorized the sound of her laugh and the planes of her face and the tiny moles all over her body that he always used to compare to constellations, and [Y/N] doesn't even know his name.

She is suffering from severe memory loss, Healer Paige had told him. Mr. Weasley, this kind of damage is irreversible. I'm truly sorry, but it's highly unlikely that she will ever get her memories back.

They were strangers, once. And then friends, and then lovers, and at this point in time they're supposed to be bloody engaged, like George had planned, but it appears they are nothing more than strangers again.

And it's not fair. None of it is.

But George isn't going to give up. He's loved her for far too long—is letting go really an option?

He can start all over again. He's going to find love with her again, and sure, he'd be starting off with a clean slate—he'd be scrapping all the nine years they'd spent with each other—but he doesn't have a choice, does he?

So George wipes the tears off of his face and picks himself up off the floor. He's still so frustrated and he wants to scream until his throat his hoarse, wants to run until his entire body is on fire so he can feel something that could drown out the suffocating pain in his chest.

But back in St. Mungo's, [Y/N] is alone and sitting on her hospital bed, undoubtedly feeling lost and confused and perhaps even worse than George—what would it feel like to wake up knowing absolutely nothing, after all?—and it's the mental image of that that gives George the motivation to move, and he shrugs off Fred and walks up to his and [Y/N]'s shared flat above the shop. There he slams open drawers and rifles through photo albums until he finds what he's looking for—photographs of her, of her friends and family and everything she has forgotten.

And of her and George. He pauses at these ones, feels a dull, aching pang go through his chest.

He's waited for six months. Maybe he can wait a little longer.

—

My name is [Y/N]. I am twenty years old and six months ago I was tortured and lost all of my memories. My parents are Lisa and Patrick. I have a six-year-old brother named Leo.

[Y/N] writes all of this down on the journal that Healer Paige gave her. A way to keep track of everything, apparently.

Baby steps, she'd told [Y/N]. We'll take it nice and slow, build everything back up again from scratch.

[Y/N] walks around the hospital early the next morning, when the only source of light is the one that comes from the bulbs overhead and the sky is dark beyond the windows. Here she walks around the hallways, thinking of nothing in particular, just—walking.

And it’s nice, letting herself bask in the silence around her. Healer Paige is patient and understanding, but [Y/N] doesn’t quite fancy being reminded of her condition every few minutes or so. Here [Y/N] can stop trying to remember. Here she can listen to the sound of her feet against the ground as she treads the cold floor, safe to just walk and worry about nothing more.

That same morning, her family doesn’t come to visit her again. Healer Paige says they have strict visiting hours, and [Y/N] hopes that relief didn't show too much on her face.

The Healers run a few more tests. Ask a few more questions. Halfway through the day, they allow her to go to the recreation room, where the other patients are.

Broken people, she thinks to herself. Just like me.

She meets a man cursed to lose his memory every five minutes. A little boy with legs that are permanently tap-dancing. A seven-year-old girl named Aimee who, according to one of the healers, feels severe pain whenever she speaks.

And it’s a little sad, to see all of these perfectly normal people save for whatever kind of long-term ailment it is that they’re suffering from, confined inside the hospital walls because they just aren’t normal enough.

[Y/N] fits in right along with them.

She can’t sleep at all that night, so at one point, when the hospital is completely silent, she leaves her room again.

But the hallway isn’t empty. There is someone laying down on the bench outside of her room. Someone with red hair.

[Y/N] pauses in the doorframe. He’s asleep, curled up into a little ball, which is a funny sight considering he’s so tall.

She remembers him from two days ago. Mr. Weasley, they’d called him. And she remembers the look in his eyes when she first spoke to him—when she asked him if [Y/N] was her name: that look of disbelief, of pain, like something inside him had broken.

She steps closer towards his sleeping figure. He shifts just slightly in his sleep, presumably to try to be more comfortable, but [Y/N] imagines that the plastic digging into his back doesn’t exactly feel extremely cozy.

[Y/N] swallows. Feels that same dull ache in her heart all over again—the same one she got when she first laid eyes on him. She finds herself crouching down to look at him properly; the red hair that falls over his eyes, the freckles across his nose, the swell of his lips.

”Who are you?” she whispers quietly, more to herself than to anyone.

Without her even realizing, she has reached out with one hand to touch the side of his cheek. Her fingertips graze his skin, a mere ghostly touch, and her breath catches in her throat when his eyelids flutter open and all of a sudden they are staring at each other, [Y/E/C] meeting brown, and [Y/N] makes to pull back, feeling like she’s been caught in the act, but he just reaches up with one hand and grabs her wrist, holding her in place.

She stares, frozen.

—

When George opens his eyes again, for a moment, he thinks he is dreaming.

[Y/N] is in front of him, eyes wide, hair framing her face. He feels like reaching up and cupping her cheek—he feels like pulling her in close and pressing his lips to hers, as he has yearned to do for so bloody long, but he can’t. He can’t.

But this—he can have this, for now, this tiny moment of pretend. For these few brief seconds, George holds her gaze in his and allows himself to believe that everything is as it has always been.

For now, when the two of them are alone and the entire hospital is quiet and the sun hasn’t yet risen, George pretends that [Y/N] still loves him.

But then she is tugging her wrist out of his grasp, cheeks a blazing shade of red, and hurriedly apologizes before disappearing inside of her room again.

George sits up slowly, and there’s a sad little smile on his face—and then his lips are twisting and he’s crying again, burying his head in his hands and sobbing at bloody two in the morning.

It’s like she’s being dangled in front of him, and she is close but at the same time so far away from reach.

He clamps his hands over his mouth, not wanting [Y/N] to hear. He doesn’t want to burden her with something that isn’t her fault. He doesn’t want her to feel any more pain.

Even if it’s at the cost of his.

taglist:  @dancing-in-the-moonlight3 @kalimagik @alittletoomanyobsessions @hariosborn @obsessedwithrandomthings @emcchi @sxrensxngwrites @enjoying-fantasyland21 @masterofthedarkness @siriusly-addicted-to-writing @bforbroadway @hufflefluff-writer @summer-writes @chaotic-fae-queen @firewhisky-kisses @dracosvftie @heloisedaphnebrightmore @idont-knowrn @dreamer821 @peachesandpinks @slytherinprincess03​ @chocfrogaddict @nebulablakemurphy​ ​@kpopgirlbtssvt

[clandonnachaidh]

Light Across The Seas That Severed

Read on AO3

It always surprised Jamie Fraser, the things that made him think of Claire Beauchamp. Along with the usual triggers—the gut punch when he caught a whiff of someone wearing her signature perfume, the seizing of his heart when his eyes were automatically drawn to messy brown curls on a stranger walking down the high street, the ache in his chest when someone walked past who had the same cadence as her laugh—it was the small, unexpected ones that hurt the most.

He could be walking into the village and see her hair in the colours of the water as it ruffled over the rocks in the burn, so real to him that it felt as though he could reach out and tangle it through his fingers. His carefully curated playlist would end and Spotify would betray him, blasting a song that he had kept at bay, conjuring memories of the two of them dancing like fools on the nights that they laughed so loud that it seemed even the walls shook as they brushed their teeth in the cramped bathroom of their dorm.

It was torture. A delicious kind, but torture nonetheless. One that he had thought to turn into prose—at the recommendation of his therapist. It had been explained to him that grief and loss were themes that could be explored in ourselves if we attempted to write them from another’s perspective. And so here he was now, years after she had left him, sitting at his late father’s desk with a whisky in one hand and a pen in the other, trying to make sense of what had happened and how he had ever been stupid enough to watch silently as her light, his Sorcha, slipped from his life.

On yet another night spent in the same position—the room dark with only a lamp beside him to illuminate the black moleskin notebook—he reclined, the chair creaking under his weight. His father’s old office chair, with it’s worn leather and rusty hinges, wasn’t built to accommodate a man of his size but he’d found that it actually helped to coax the words from his brain, as though the physical discomfort made his emotional pain easier to access. He seemed to need a little nudge to allow himself to sink deeper into parts of his past that he had spent so long trying to keep locked away.

When the whisky finally made him brave enough to open the door, the memories flooded out onto the paper: the sight of her pink lips pouted in frustration as she struggled to lift her belongings from the boot of the taxi on the first day of university, the first time she laughed at one of his terrible jokes (why do the French only use one egg to make an omelette, Sassenach? Because one is an oeuf!), the first time he helped her into her coat and his fingertips brushed the skin behind her ear (their maiden voyage to the on campus coffee house, faces taut in disgust as they realised that their unrelenting back and forth had caused their coffees to go cold). He wrote about falling in love with his best friend and why he had wasted so much time worrying about how to tell her.

Jamie had spent hours, days, months, sitting in his father’s chair, consumed by the fruitless pursuit of trying to plot the points of their relationship. Although he could vividly picture the scenes, he didn’t recognise the people anymore. He had been young, too young by half to know what he wanted out of life and she had been more than he could have dreamed of. He had fallen in love with her instantly, as he was sure most people did at the sight of one Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp. But that was years ago and they had both changed, she was living her life in Boston as a brilliant surgeon while Jamie languished in Lallybroch, living in his old bedroom while his sister and her family had the run of the house.

The burn of the whisky slipping down his throat was a pleasant distraction but the batch still made his eyes water slightly and he made a mental note to tell Ian that the recipe could still do with some tweaking before it could be sold under the Mac Dubh name. He had made a modest success of himself, that was true, now the creator of the fourth highest selling whisky in Scotland. Broch Tuarach had changed from a small farming village that nobody really knew of to the home of one of Scotland’s largest and most successful distilleries, and Jamie was often credited with bringing jobs and tourists to the village in numbers that hadn’t been seen before. There had been a boom in the local economy allowing the village to thrive and he was seen as a pillar of the community, people jokingly referring to him as Laird, or the more familiar Himself, when he passed them in the street although the official title was held by some landowner that lived down south somewhere and had only stepped foot in the area once.

Still, he thought, this batch wasn’t ready for marketing just yet. Jamie put the glass down, rubbed his tired eyes with his even more tired fingers and decided to call it a night, making his way down the hall to his bedroom. His limbs felt heavy as he went through the motions of getting ready for bed. Finally stripping off his shirt and jeans and crawling under the covers, he cast a cursory glance at the phone he had left charging on the bedside table.

Sassenach

Missed call 23.02

He screwed his eyes shut before opening them again as if to knock some sense into them but the notification was still there. The rough pad of his thumb hovered over it, almost afraid that if he attempted to open it, it would cease to exist. He pressed the lock button once to blacken the screen, paused, and then pressed it again to bring it into view and still it remained.

It must have been an accident, a slip of the hand while she was trying to call someone else. He reminded himself of the time difference, it would be the early evening where she was and she could be tired after a long day or maybe even rushing between surgeries. She probably hadn’t even noticed that she had called him. He had to fight his inflating ego when he considered the fact that she still had his number, but blushed in shame as he recalled the frightened face of the poor spotty teenage lad in the phone shop who he had made swear that he wouldn’t lose any contacts or photos when he upgraded to his new handset.

Realising that he was now sat straight up in his bed, his heart beating a slightly faster staccato than usual, he opened the notification. Just seeing her name (or rather, his name for her) on his screen again did things to his body that he wasn’t in control of. His hands felt clammy while his mouth was dry. This was different than just scanning her Facebook page in the dark, looking at her perfectly posed pictures that she chose to share, and lamenting the absence of candids that he had so loved taking when they were friends. She found one of them once, one he had snapped of her the day that they had taken the ferry over to the Isle of Arran for a few nights. Knowing that she didn’t have any remaining family, he had insisted that she spend the summer break from university at Lallybroch with his family and she had happily accepted. However, after a few nights in Jamie’s massive ancestral home, filled with more Fraser bodies than they could count, he promised to take her away for a few days of peace and had driven her to the ferry terminal at Claonaig without divulging their destination. They had been blessed with a beautiful summer’s day for the crossing to Lochranza and he’d thanked God that he managed to keep his breakfast in his stomach. Or rather, that he almost had until they were in sight of the island. Jamie had burst from his seat and had made it to the toilet just in time for his stomach to erupt, sweat dampening his brow until his wame was empty. Shivering and definitely worse for wear but at least grateful in the knowledge that there was nothing else to come up, he had returned to the deck of the ferry to see Claire out in the sun, her forearms resting on the railing as she looked out over the water. The way that her hair whipped up in the wind made Jamie’s chest tighten and before he knew it, he had taken out his phone and snapped a picture.

Months later, Claire had snagged his phone from the table of the bar that they were sat in, too quick for Jamie. She quipped an eyebrow at him in victory, chastising him that he had yet to show her pictures of his latest niece when she stumbled across the photo. He watched as her throat bobbed, swallowing emotion that he wished he could taste before looking at him straight in the eye. Without being asked, he told her that he couldn’t help himself. And she smiled shyly before cooing about Jenny’s new daughter.

The memory flooded his senses and Jamie closed his eyes, filling his lungs with a deep breath for a count of four, holding it for a count of four and then letting it out for six in a vain attempt at calming his racing mind. His whole body felt as though it was vibrating, alive for the first time in what he could remember at the mere <em>thought</em> of Claire Beauchamp.

It took Jamie a second to realise that the vibration wasn’t coming from his body. Or rather, it was, but from a specific part of his body. His hand, the one that was holding his phone, was shaking rhythmically, the screen bright against the darkness of the rest of the room.

Sassenach calling…

The breath jittered from his lungs as he tried to take a steady breath. Watching, almost as though someone else was moving his body as he thumb accepted the call and he slowly raised the phone to his ear.

“Claire?”

On the other end of the phone, he heard her let out a heavy breath. His heart seized as he listened to her break, all too familiar with the sound of her crying.

“Claire, are ye hurt? Tell me what’s—“

“Frank is dead.”

Ice fell heavy in his chest at the sound of her voice before he even took stock of the words that she had uttered. To hear her voice again.

“Oh, lass… Mo chridhe, I am so sorry,” he whispered the words, truly meaning them as he wished for nothing but her happiness. Anything to bring her from the pain that she was feeling.

“He— oh God, he’s dead. He’s really dead.”

He knew in that moment that he would cross oceans for her simply to bring her peace. He had always known the truth of what they shared, how he responded to her call but nothing had prepared him for the tsunami of pure need that he would experience when he heard her cry down the phone about her dead husband.

“I’m sorry, mo chridhe, I’m so sorry,” he repeated at the sound of her hyperventilating, his shoulders creeping up around his ears as he wished he could bear the pain for her, “What do you need, Claire? Anything.”

“He’s in the ground,” she whispered as though saying it out loud would make it more true, “God, Jamie, I don’t know what to do.”

Hearing his name fall from her lips was a balm that he didn’t know his soul needed. The hairs on his arms stood to attention as a shiver rippled through him, clenching his jaw to steady himself and give her his full attention.

“Do ye have people around ye, Claire? Have ye folk in Boston?”

[celtics534]

At Least for Tonight: Part II

Part 1

As promised, part 2! I hope y’all enjoyed these little hinny moments! Again, thank you anon who sent me the ask! 

Read both parts on: FF.net or AO3

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Ginny breathed in deeply, her eyes drooping closed. 

 “Ginny, dear.” Her mother’s voice was soothing as a hand ran along her back. “Why don’t you head up to Gryffindor tower, try to find a place to sleep for the night?”

 She opened her eyes to look into the ones that matched hers perfectly. The sorrow in Molly’s normally bright eyes was overwhelming, even after just one second. It was like the pain Ginny’s mother was feeling was palpable. Yet, Molly was putting on a brave front, trying to care for her daughter… for her children that had survived.  

 “Mum.” Ginny wanted to stay with her mother, to try to comfort her, but her treasonous body denied her the chance, forcing a jaw-popping yawn out of her. 

 Molly gave her a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Go on now, love.” She pressed a kiss to the top of her daughter’s head before gently guiding Ginny from her shoulder.  Ginny shakily rose from her vigil beside her mother. Her steps were uncertain as she started towards the marble stairs. 

 For all her years at Hogwarts, Ginny had never minded the trek up to the Gryffindor Common Room. Especially when she was dreading the potion essay awaiting her, or when she and Harry had —

 Harry

 Harry

The name was like an invocation in her mind. Harry Potter, who had just stopped the most heinous monster for years. Harry Potter, the man who had practically disappeared off the face of the Earth for nearly a year. Harry James Potter, Ginny’s ex-boyfriend and the man she had missed with every fiber of her being. 

 Ginny’s mind started thinking back to the last time she’d seen him, the last time they’d been alone long enough to have a real moment. That moment had kept Ginny sane through the most arduous year of her life. When she crawled into bed at night, Ginny had replayed the feeling of his fingers teasing her waist, the softness of his lips, the intensity of his eyes as he held her close to him in the dim moonlight of the Burrow kitchen. 

 God, that felt like a lifetime ago, yet at the same time, the phantom feeling made it feel as if it were only yesterday. With a sudden realization, Ginny remembered Harry hadn’t been in the Great Hall when she’d left. A wave of panic coursed through her. What had happened to him? Where had he gone? 

 She forced her overtired mind to think. Where would someone go after fighting for their life? It was hard to keep her mind straight when she was so tired… tired… Bloody hell, Harry would be exhausted after everything he’d been through! Hell, the reports about the Gringotts break-in had been less than forty-two hours ago. And knowing Harry, and that was something Ginny prided herself in, he would go to the place he’d slept for the past six years while at Hogwart. Ginny’s stride quickened as she climbed flight after flight, ignoring the destruction around her. She couldn’t think about what had been her life for the last twenty-four hours. Ginny refused to replay the violent memories that were trying to push to the forethought of her mind. Instead, she kept them at bay with one thought -- or better yet one person. Harry. She needed to see him with her own eyes. Just at least for one minute. 

 She came to a dead halt in front of the Fat Lady portrait, for the first time considering she hadn’t known been at school in months and the password had more than likely changed. “Er —”

 The Fat Lady simply smiled at her before swinging wide.

 “Thanks,” Ginny murmured as she climbed into the common room. Her left foot caught on the edge of the portrait, nearly making her land flat on her face. Ginny cursed as she caught herself. That would be the last thing she needed, a sprained ankle. 

 Letting out a long sigh, Ginny looked around the seemingly untouched tower. Everything looked exactly as it had for the last six years. Tables in the corners, comfy couches strategically in front of the fireplace. If Ginny didn’t know better she’d be able to pretend a war hadn’t just come to completion mere hours beforehand. 

 She looked over towards the girl’s staircase. That’s where her mother would expect her to go, back to the sixth year’s dorm and her old bed. But Ginny’s heart and feet had other plans. She was halfway up to the seventh year’s boy’s room before she even realized she’d begun to move. The door was ajar, making it easy for Ginny to peek inside. No sounds could be heard, nothing seemed disturbed… except one bed by the far window. She could see his mop of messy black hair. 

 There she’d seen him. Ginny could now go back down the stairs and find her own bed... Except, again her feet pulled her towards him. 

 Ginny stood beside his bed, taking in the man before her. He lay on his back, seemingly dead to the world. Hell, if Ginny hadn’t seen his chest rise and fall she might have thought he was truly dead. 

 Harry Potter is dead. 

 The words came back to her with the sharpness of a knife, making her breath hitch. Fuck… hearing those words… The way it had echoed all around her. Never before had words suffocated her, but as she’d stood beside her brothers in the Great Hall and Voldemort’s cruel voice reverted off the stone, Ginny had lost her ability to breath… to think.

 “Gin?” 

 She blinked rapidly, forcing tears she hadn’t known about, to fall down to her cheeks. Her focus fell onto his eyes. The eyes that had come haunted her dreams. His brow was creased as he blinked up at her. 

 Ginny swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. “Hey.”

 Hey… that was the first thing she said to him after so long! Ginny wanted to smack her forehead, but Harry simply smiled at her. 

 “Hey.” He started to sit up, but Ginny’s hand shot out to land on his chest stopping him.  

 “Don’t move, you’ve got to be tired.” 

 He blinked at her, his breathing labored. After a second he leaned back onto his pillows, his chest rising high with every breath under her palm. They stared at each other, neither seeming able to break the silence between them. Hell, all Ginny could do was drink him in. Take in every bit of him… there… alive. 

 Harry’s gaze took on a new intensity… something about it Ginny couldn’t place, but it still sent shivers down her spine. 

 “Ginny,” Her name on his lips is what did it. It broke the dam that had been holding back everything in Ginny’s chest. A sob rose into her throat and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Then another and then she was crying as she stood there beside his bed. 

 Before she could even try to regain her composure, Harry had taken her hand and tugged her into him. Her body covered his as he held her close. His fingers caught in the knots matting her hair, but Ginny could feel the pain. No, she was consumed by the truth of all that had happened. The fact that her brother was dead, Voldemort was gone, that Harry was there with her. Her face fell into the crook of his neck, tears dampening his skin.

 “Shh.” His murmur vibrated in his chest, his fingers still brushing the knots out of her hair. “Ginny, shh.” 

 “Holy hell, Harry,” Ginny spoke through her sobs, her words muffled. “Holy fucking hell.”

 “I know, love.” His voice was comforting, though she could feel the tremble in his chest. “I know.”

 She breathed in deeply, trying to control the rapid emotions. Blood, sweat, and dirt all came to her senses. But most of all she smelled him. Harry. His naturally woodsy scent that brought her back to warm sunny days around the lake. How a smell could make her feel so… safe made no sense to her, but with every inhale she was able to breathe a little better.

 Her chest hurt as the sobs slowed and the tears trailed off. She breathed in one more shuddering breath before pulling away from Harry’s neck. Harry was silently crying, tear tracks stained his cheeks. His eyes were focused on the ceiling as he tried to silently handle his grief while comforting her. Ginny’s heart broke for what felt like the hundredth time that day. Her hands came up to cup his cheeks, her thumbs wiping the dampness. 

 His eyes came back down, locking onto her hers. The way his bottom lip quivered made Ginny’s chest tighten. “Oh, Harry.” She pressed her lips to his trembling ones. She could feel his breath hitch as their lips connected. There was so much pain… so much anguish... But in that moment Ginny didn’t feel any of it. She only felt him, the way his lips felt against hers. 

 It wasn’t passion driving them, but a need. A need for each other, for solace, that she could only seem to find in him. 

 They broke apart slowly, her forehead coming to rest on his. Ginny’s body felt as if it weighed a million tons. With the last of her strength, she rolled to her side, bringing Harry with her so they lay side by side facing one another. 

 Her eyes started to close on their own accord, between the comfy mattress and Harry’s warmth Ginny thought she might sleep for a year.

 “Ginny, there is so much —” Her eyes opened to see Harry’s wide green ones. He looked so overwhelmed. “I need to tell you — Everything. I need to tell —” 

 She placed a finger to his lips, cutting him off. “It can wait.” Her lips replaced her finger. “Just sleep, at least for tonight. Just sleep.” 

[fastlikealambo]

link to chapter one.

link to chapter two.

link to chapter three.

link to chapter four.

link to chapter five.

link to chapter six.

link to chapter seven.

Fall of 94′: Eddie Munson x Black Reader Chapter 8 Sneak Peek

summary:

it’s been nearly 8 years since the events of hawkins and out of the entire party, the only one to stay behind is the one and only eddie munson. with a five year old daughter in tow, his life is a simple one, still trying to escape the dark cloud over him that never went away.

but when all too familiar hellish events start happening again eddie must team up with his daughter’s favorite and mysterious new teacher to protect his little girl and the town he owes nothing to.

warnings: violence,  gore, religious trauma, soft dom! eddie, discussions of mental health and ptsd, praise kink,  childhood trauma,  smut to end all smut,  hawkins, indiana is a warning to me.  

minors dni, I check

Eddie almost caved as soon as he sees Rosie’s face at the window, waving at him.

Maybe he should have done this over the phone.

“Daddy! Daddy’s here!” Rosie yelled at the top of her lungs, racing out the door and straight into her father’s arms.

“Hey munchkin,I  missed you so much!” Eddie said hugging her a little tighter than usual but she didn’t mind.

“I made cookies with grandma but don’t worry I saved some for you too, come on! ” Rosie tugged on Eddie’s hand but Eddie got on her level.

“Listen baby, Daddy has to go help a friend so you’re gonna stay with grandpa for just one more night, okay?” Eddie explained, his heart breaking in two watching Rosie’s face fall.

“ Can I come? I’ll be good, I promise!”

“You’re always good munchkin, but you'll have much more fun with grandpa and grandma.” Eddie urged.

“Are you gonna come back?”

Eddie nearly burst into tears at the question, this wasn’t supposed to be his life now, he made a promise to never lie to his kid like his old man but here he was, just like him, doing something dangerous and leaving his child in the aftermath.

“I have an idea, why don’t you hold on to this till I get back? Can you be a big girl and keep it safe for Daddy?” Eddie asked, taking his guitar pick necklace from around his neck and putting it around Rosie’s, her face lighting up.

“I can do it, I’m brave enough!” Rosie said, jumping back into Eddie’s arms.

“I love you Rosie, I promise I’ll be back to take you to school.” Eddie said firmly.

“I love you too Daddy!”

“Dinner’s ready Rosie, why don't you go help Grandma, huh?” Wayne’s gruff voice appears behind them and with another big squeeze, Rosie’s gone.

“Do I need to worry about anything, Edward? Are you in some kind of trouble, son?” Wayne asked.

“No, nothing like that, just helping out a sick friend.  I don’t sell anymore, I promise-

“Eddie, you’re a good man and a damn good father, you don’t need to explain anything to me. Whatever it is that you’re really doing, you make damn sure you come back to that little girl like I know you will, understood?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good, be careful.”  With a clap on his back, Wayne returned to his home while Eddie ran back to the car, brushing away tears.

“Eddie, you don’t have to do this. I can handle it on my own.” You said reaching over to take his hand in yours.

“I know you can but you’re not doing this alone. I’d never forgive myself if I let anyone die in that hell pit so I’m going, end of discussion. Don’t make me use my dad voice.”

“Don’t make me use my teacher voice.”

The drive is quiet, uneasy.

“Let’s go over the plan again.” Eddie said, eyes on the road.

“Get to the upside down, find Bobby, get Bobby through the gate while avoiding certain death.  Once we’re out, you run to the payphone, call 911, and tell them you heard someone calling for help by the old trailer park, and get the hell out of there. I’ll stay with Bobby till help comes and tell the police I heard crying while on a walk and found him. Once the coast is clear, I’ll go back and close the gate.”

“I’m not too sure about that last part.”

“This part I have to do alone, you can’t be anywhere near that scene.”

“What if you pass out or get hurt?”

“Then I pass out and you stay out of prison.”

“And Vecna?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. You asked me to trust you to get me through the night, now I’m asking you to trust me to get you back to Rosie. Do you trust me? ” You asked as the car came to a stop outside of an abandoned trailer park.

Looks like it’s showtime.

tag list:

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@revivedhyperfixations

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@onecentricsoul

@venuslovr

[storyofmychoices]

Bounce

[Bryce Lahela x Olivia Hadley Masterlist]

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x Olivia Hadley (OC) Other Characters: Keiki Lahela, Aurora (former pediatric patient), Mrs. Watkins (Aurora's mom) Book: Open Heart  Rating: General *Fluff* Word Count: ~1,200

Synopsis: Olivia helps plan a carnival, fun day for past patients to celebrate their recovery and remission milestones. Bryce is more than happy to get in on the fun.

Background: This takes place somewhat in the future. Bryce and Olivia (and Keiki) have been sharing an apartment for some time. Keiki also volunteers at the hospital after school in the Pediatric ward with Olivia. She reads to the kids in the day room.

"We can't thank you enough, Dr. Hadley."

"Great job!"

"Thanks for today. It really meant a lot to us."

Olivia beamed as the adulation continued. The smiling faces of the grateful people thinned out as the celebration came to its conclusion.

A hand on her shoulder pulled her from her thoughts. "Oh!"

"Sorry! We didn't mean to startle you." Mrs. Watkins offered. Her hand settled on her six-year-old daughter standing beside her. She stroked the tired girl's back gently.

"It's okay." Olivia's eyes brightened at the sight of the happy child. She had met Aurora her first year as a pediatric intern. Her neuroblastoma was considered low risk, and the survival rate was significant over 90%, but that small percent of uncertainty had understandably worried her parents throughout her treatment. "Did my favorite Disney princess have fun today?"

The little blonde girl nodded enthusiastically. "It was the best day ever!"

"We just wanted to say thank you again. This carnival was such a beautiful idea. It was good for the kids and for the parents too," Mrs. Watkins admitted. She kissed the top of her daughter's head. "To remind us that we're not alone and every day is a gift."

"It was my pleasure. I'm happy you both enjoyed yourselves."

Aurora threw her arms around Olivia, hugging her tightly. "I'm going to be a doctor just like you when I grow up and save other kids like you saved me."

Olivia's smile stretched to her eyes as she stooped down to hold her closer. "Whatever you decide to do, you will be amazing. Always remember how brave and strong you are!"

"I will!" The little girl moved beside her mother once more. A quiet yawn slipped from her lips.

"I guess that's our cue!" Mrs. Watkins ran her fingers through her daughter's hair. "Thank you again, Dr. Hadley—for everything!"

"Have a great night!" She waved goodbye, watching as they left hand in hand.

"Olivia!" Keiki called. "There you are."

"Hey, Keiki. You did amazing today! I'm so glad you came out to help. The kids loved seeing you again. I know they enjoyed your storytime when they were here."

"Thanks." She tried to hide her growing smile at the compliment. "That's not why I needed to find you. We have a situation at the bounce house."

"Oh no! What's wrong? Did someone get hurt?" Olivia began moving quickly toward the amusement attraction. "I thought they had shut it down."

Keiki followed closely. "They did."

"So, what's the situation then?"

"You better see for yourself."

The pair stopped in front of the bounce house.

"I—" Olivia wasn't sure if she should laugh or scold him.

"Hey, Liv!" Bryce bounced high, his extended arms touching the ceiling.

"This. This is the situation." Keiki rested her face in her palm as she shook her head.

"Come join me." He proposed joyfully.

"I will not!" Olivia replied sternly. "This is for the kids!"

"And they all left! Come on! You've spent all day working. You're missing out on the fun!" He landed with more force this time, bouncing him higher into a flip.

"I can't. I need to help finish cleaning up."

"It can wait," he insisted. "Let's make a deal; I'll come out when you come in."

"I'm not—That's not how this works!"

"You know you want to." His hair fluttered out weightlessly with each jump.

She chewed her cheek. She couldn't even remember the last time she had been in a bounce house. It did look like a lot of fun. "Fine. One minute and then we both leave. Deal?"

He held his hand out, helping her into the castle. "My lady."

Olivia wobbled as their weight caused the floor to shift beneath them.

"I've got you." He held her hands to steady her. "Together? On 3."

As he counted down, she jumped hesitantly, feeling a bit silly now that she was inside the colorful attraction. Her worries were quickly laid to rest as her delight grew into happy giggles. Feeling more confident, she let go of his hand to bounce on her own.

They built a steady rhythm together. A childish bliss overtook them; their laughter and merriment filled the night air. There was something pure about it. The weight of the world seemed lighter as they bounced in tandem.

"We should get a bounce house," Bryce declared while doing a backflip.

"And put it where?" Olivia chided with slight amusement. She curled her feet beneath her as she bounced. "The apartment roof? That sounds very sensible...and safe."

He shrugged in contemplation, "Fine, so maybe we just get a house instead."

The suggestion took her by surprise. She stopped in her tracks, her bouncing coming to a halt. "What?"

He ceased his movements, balancing on the air-filled base as he moved beside her. He took her hands in his own. "Why not?"

"Bryce, come on. Be serious."

"I—I think I am."

"30 seconds ago you wanted a bounce house. Now, you're ready to get a real one?"

"So what if I am?" He squeezed her hands, his thumb brushing tenderly over her knuckles. "It doesn't have to be tomorrow or even this month, but someday, soon. You know how I feel about you, Liv—how I feel about us. I want a future together. We've been sharing an apartment for a while. We work. Let's get a house!"

"A real house? With a yard? And a cute little garden?" She looked hopeful. "Just clarifying, not a bounce house?"

He contemplated it for a moment longer. He wrapped his arms around her. "The first one. I mean, unless you're open to both. Because I am if you are!" He wagged his brow at her, a simmering smirk settling on his features.

Olivia pulled her hands from his, pushing them against his chest. The movement was more forceful than she intended, causing him to fall back onto the soft floor. Her hands clasped over her mouth as she hid her laughter.

"You think that's funny?" Bryce quickly rebounded, bouncing up and pulling her into a chaste kiss.

"We're really going to do this?" She closed her eyes, shaking her head in disbelief.

His fingers danced gingerly through her hair. "Yes, I think we are."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"For our future!" Her hand cradled his face, drawing his lips to hers. She kissed him softly, trying to keep her balance as they shifted slightly.

"Ugh! Get a room!" Keiki groaned playfully from just outside, reminding them they were not alone. "Also, Liv, you are failing at your job of getting Bryce out of the bounce house so they can shut it down."

"Oops?" Olivia bit her lip, having momentarily forgotten her task.

"How is it that of the three of us, the one of us passable for a child is the only one not in the bounce house?" Keiki crossed her arms, her head tilting to the side.

Bryce laughed, giving her a challenging grin. "You can always come in."

His sister sighed heavily.

"Come on, Bryce." Olivia laced her fingers with his, guiding him out of the bounce house. "It's time to go."

He gave her hand another gentle squeeze. His voice was low, a whisper just for her. "With you, I would go anywhere."

Choices Perma: @the-soot-sprite ; @princess-geek ; @gardeningourmet ; @katrinegrey ; @trappedinfanfiction ; @aleynareads ; @lucy-268 ; @xjustin-ethansgirliex​ ; @maurine07 ; @nikki-2406 ; @schnitzelbutterfingers​ ; @zeniamiii​ ; ​​​@lauridiculous ; @lilyoffandoms ; @ruinedbypixels

Bryce: @burnsoslow ; @callmeellabella ; @ariondevereux ; @ofpixelsandscribbles ; @nyastarlight ; @superharriet ; @jamespotterthefirst ; @brycesgirl ; @kat-tia801 ; @anotherbeingsworld ;

[howggswouldreact]

💓 Nightgowns and Monsters in Closets | Jennie

Request: Hey! I was wondering if I could get a Jennie x reader with a daughter please? Maybe they're just trying to do the naughty together but little one comes in and interrupts it. Probably fluff

Plot: It's been a while since Jennie and Reader had some time alone. But, on a Friday night where everything seems to lead to a moment between both of them, their small daughter knocks on the door of the bedroom.

Words: 1,696

Genre: slight smut, mostly flluff

Warnings: slight smut

Notes: this was so... aaaaaaaaaaaaaa, cute!

You were sitting on your bed, your back against it’s headboard, your mind traveling a few feet from there to the door on your left that led directly to the bathroom in your suite. The day had been quite tiring, it was a Friday night and you knew very well that relaxing was something that should, once and for all, be in your plans. And there, right behind that door, was Jennie, having just finished taking a nice hot shower and, most likely, would come out of there wearing that golden nightgown that you loved so much.

"It emphasizes your curves...", you replied when she asked why you insisted so much for her to put it on.

"You are nothing but naughty!", she said with a smile on her lips and bowing to you, letting the v-shaped neckline show more of her breasts.

Perhaps it was the most relaxing way to spend a Friday night, you thought, rubbing your hands on the sheet. How long ago did you have a moment just for you two? Five months? Maybe six? And there was no other way to relax that was as good as a long and intimate moment with your wife Jennie.

And sitting on your bed, you thought about how she looked so good while wearing that nightgown. The thought alone was already turning you on too much for your own good.

You missed Jennie's body in yours and you needed to feel it as soon as possible.

It's not that you and Jennie didn't exchange some hotter kisses - you both did it every time she picked you up or left you at work and vice versa - but good sex, a sex that took a while to feel that huge connection and forget about everyone around... it was something different. Quickies do not satisfy as much as the real sex, the sex itself. And you needed a lot more than just quickies to relax.

The bathroom door opened, interrupting your thoughts and you noticed the hot steam emanating from there, along with Jennie. You felt your whole body get hot just by seeing her.

The nightgown falling perfectly on her body and the ponytail that left her entire neck exposed made you want to pull her for you at once. You were eating Jennie with your eyes.

"What's up?", asked Jennie cynically, turning off the bathroom light and closing the door.

The only light in the room was that one of the lamp beside the bed, the window was closed and hidden behind the curtains, as if it could not see what was about to happen there.

"You know what it is...”, you replied, watching her climb onto the bed and crawl over to you.

"I don't know what you’re talking about...", your eyes slid from her eyes, to her mouth, her chin, the neckline showing her perfect breasts... "Are you talking about the nightgown...", she got even closer to you and sat on your lap. "Or are you talking about this?", she asked, lifting her nightgown a little and showing off the small panties she wore.

You groaned at the sight and let your hands begin to caress and squeeze Jennie's thick thighs, your eyes never leaving the focus they were in now.

"Hey, my eyes are up here.", with a finger on your chin, she lifted your face so you could look into her eyes.

"I miss you...", at the end of the sentence, you attacked her lips in a hot and tasty kiss, your hands going up to her hips.

Jennie moved lightly in your lap, you felt her movement and the warmth that emanated from the place between her legs as it touched you. It was getting too hot, you wanted to take her to heaven.

Your lips went down to her neck and you realized how breathless Jennie was already, light moans escaping her pretty lips. You moved your right hand up to Jennie's shoulder, sliding the strap of her nightgown down, until her left boob was showing. You lowered your lip to it and then, when your mouth touched her nipple, you heard a sound that made you two stand still like statues.

It couldn't be real.

Again, the same sound. 3 very shy knocks on the door.

You left Jennie's breast quite reluctantly, you lifted up the strap of her nightgown again. She looked into your eyes and you saw a mix of frustration and concern. She stood up and lowered the hem of her nightgown to the middle of her thighs and you went to the door while she put on the robe that hung on the headboard.

When you opened the door, you looked down at the little figure who was standing there, messy hair and chocolate brown eyes, little hands holding a black teddy bear wearing a pink blouse with big black letters written "BLACKPINK".

"Hi, little girl. What is going on?", you asked the child, who threw herself on your legs in a hug.

Sohee. 4 years old. Simply the result of the love between you and Jennie. The most perfect daughter you could have asked for in heaven.

"Hey, what's up, my princess?", you bent down holding the teddy bear that had fallen in one hand and the other holding her arm.

"There's a monster in my closet!", her voice showed fear.

Frowning, you stroked her hair and picked her up, turning to Jennie, who now wore the robe and walked up to you with a calm smile.

"I think we need to defeat this monster!", Jennie said, her left hand caressing Sohee's back and with her right hand she took the teddy bear you were holding.

"Definitely!", you said, agreeing with your wife’s decision.

Sohee shook her head, afraid.

"Me and your mom are going to show you how to defeat the monsters once and for all!", Jennie said and Sohee looked up at her curiously.

"Really?"

Jennie looked at you for help in that small play. It was obvious that there was no monster, but you needed to make Sohee feel safe and confident.

“With lots of love and strong fists!”, you said, quite hesitantly, but trying not to let it show to your daughter.

You put the little girl on the floor again.

"Hold my hand and your mother's hand too.", at the end of the sentence, she followed your instructions. "Great! Now we are going to your room.”

As you walked through the house darkened by the night, you felt Sohee's small steps slowing down as you were getting near the door. A child's mind is free for imaginations of all kinds, even the most cruel ones, filled with the worst and scariest monsters for someone so innocent. Seeing your daughter in fear worried you and would make your sense of protection grow quickly. And from the way that Jennie’s body was tense, you knew that she was going through the same situation as you.

It was just an imaginary monster in the bedroom, but it was an imaginary monster that needed to be executed in order for your daughter to feel comfortable and have a peaceful sleep.

The door was slightly opened and Jennie started to open it fully.

"Watch out, mommy!", Sohee exclaimed, pulling Jennie by the hand. "It was inside the closet!"

Then Jennie, Sohee, and you entered the room, hand in hand. You noticed it was cold and from the window was coming a light that, against the curtain, made a strange shadow form on the door of Sohee's white closet, which had the door slightly open. For a child, that shadow and the fact that the closet was almost opened meant a lot.

"To defeat the monster, the first thing we need to do is to turn on the light.", Jennie said, bending down to be almost at the same height as her daughter. "Mom and I are here, nothing bad is going to happen to you."

Jennie stood up and turned on the light, illuminating the bedroom and making that strange shadow, created by the curtain, disappear. The expression of fear on Sohee's face softened and you felt your heart relax a little more with that.

"Did you say it was in the closet, my angel?", she nodded, brown eyes shining at Jennie. "Y/N, what do you think about showing her that there are no monsters in the closet?"

"I think it's a great idea!", you walked to the closet, holding that little hand and guiding your daughter over there. “No monster is strong enough to face brave girls like you, Sohee! Can I open the door?”

"No, mommy.", you realized that she was thoughtful.

Worried, you gave Jennie a glance, as if to say I don't know how to proceed from this point. What to do when your daughter doesn't seem to have gained confidence after a moment like this? Jennie took a breath and looked like she was about to say something when Sohee's childish voice came over the room.

"I'll open it!", with her little hand on the door handle, she opened it and said: "Go away, stupid monster!"

And there was nothing in there. Only Sohee's little dresses and blouses were there, along with some hairpins. There was no monster.

The little girl turned to you and Jennie with a smile so big it made her eyes close in small lines and you felt your heart explode in your chest with so much love.

“Did you see? We kicked it out!”

Jennie couldn't stand it and went over to Sohee, taking her small body in a strong hug and filling her with kisses, saying how proud she was. Seeing that interaction made your love grow even more for those two women in your life.

You and Jennie decided that, for being so brave, Sohee and her teddy bear could sleep with you that night. And as you covered yourself to sleep, with Sohee between you and Jennie, you thought to yourself that you didn't need anything else in the world besides them.

And you realized that it was worth defeating monsters hidden in closets from time to time.

[hargrove-mayfields]

Just a Dream Away

Chapter 2/13 read here on ao3!

for the @harringrovebigbang!

~~~~

The news isn’t any easier to stomach after a whole night to think.

It was hard enough for Steve to cope with this decision on his own, but calling Susan on the phone and asking what she thought about pulling the plug on her stepson was next to impossible. Maybe it was just actually saying it out loud for the first time that made it so hard for him, but he was barely able to get the words out.

“Hello?” Susan sounds confused about getting a call so early on a Sunday morning.

“I need to ask you something.” Steve says quickly. Susan waits on the other end, but the words just won’t come out of his mouth. Steve is thankful she's at least more patient than her husband. “The doctors all think- and I wanted to ask you first even though I’m his representative- they think Billys not doing too good and that we should do some thinking about this but, you know he’s just been in there so long and-“

“I understand, Steve.” She isn’t going to make him say it, the words that had been tumbling around somewhere in his head since the very beginning, and he is thankful for it. “I think, if it’s time to let him go, I support that decision.”

“What about Neil?”

“This is not his choice to make.” Susan sighs, and says simply. She had seen the worst of Neils abuse and knew that, even though things weren’t always so bad, Billy wouldn’t want his dad to have any say in a decision this important had he been able to express his wishes. “You do what’s best for Billy.”

Steve thanks her and hangs up before he could break, her words threatening to ruin the promise he’d made to himself to stay strong. He repeated it over and over in his head that he was doing the right thing and there was no reason to cry or be sad.

He hadn’t caught a wink of sleep, something he was more than used to by now, but last night was especially hard on him. It had set in that he was going to do something impossible, the guilt and the heartbreak washing over him until he just had to give up on sleeping entirely. It felt like he was rushing Billy's death, no matter how much thought had actually gone into this choice of how much time into trying to save him, it would always feel like a spur of the moment decision.

But six long months don’t count as sudden. The countless nights and days dragging on as Billy only got sicker and sicker don’t count as out of nowhere. He’d been suffering and Steve knew that the whole time, he was just too scared to make the call that was sitting heavy in the back of his thoughts the entire time.

Billy was a healthy eighteen year old boy. If he wasn’t already gone, he would have woken up by now, or at least improved in the slightest. All signs pointed to him having given up the fight, or encountered some unseen obstacle keeping him unconscious. Either way, Steve has come to rationalize that it's not right to keep him around, suffering just so he could die later.

Because if he was really being honest with himself, there was zero chance of him recovering anymore, not a small chance or an unlikely one, but none at all, at least not fully enough that he’d ever be healthy or truly conscious or himself ever again, so this was for the best. Goddamn was that so much easier to say than to actually go through with though.

Steve could spend the rest of his life telling himself it was right, but he was going to meet Max and Susan at the hospital, and Billy was going to die. The boy he had fallen more in love with than he had ever been before, the boy he’d even promised himself to each with a ring they’d stolen from their mothers, was going to die.

Driving to the hospital the day before had felt bad enough, but today is worse.

Maybe one day he’d be able to see these last six months Billy spent in the hospital as a blessing, his second chance to get the closure he needed, to let Billy go peacefully instead of on the dirty floor of the ruined mall, but for now, he just felt miserable. Like all he’d done was extend his pain just to kill him anyways.

Pulling into the parking lot, he sees Neil’s truck and Nancy’s car. They were already out of their cars and waiting for Steve, Max hiding her tear stained face in her mother’s coat, and Nancy politely listening to something Susan was saying. She was only here to drop off Eleven, who had been back in Hawkins to visit Dustin on his birthday and wanted to come, and Lucas, who promised Max he’d be there to support her, no matter what he thought of her brother. What surprised them all though, was that Neil had showed up too.

He’s stood away from everyone else, arms crossed tight over his chest and a stone cold look on his face. Steve locks eyes with him through the windshield, and he can see something regret clear in Neils eyes. Maybe it was denial that things would ever get this bad that made him so insistent to not have anything to do with his son while he was sick, the idea that he’d come home someday and he could antagonize him then, but that wasn’t the reality of the situation, and perhaps that is exactly what brought him out today. Steve doesn’t feel bad for him either way.

As he kills his engine and gets out, Susan and Nancy shoot him an identical sympathetic look before the latter scampers back to her own car, wanting nothing to do with this situation. Nobody trusted Steve to drive their kids around anymore, and everybody else was busy but Nancy, so she had to drive the kids. Steve’s not sure if it’s the guilt from aiming a gun at Billy and pulling the trigger without remorse or if she still hated his guts as much as she did in high school, but again, Steve doesn’t care.

Nobody matters to him but Billy today.

The opposite wasn’t true, they were in return worried about Steve. Only a few nurses under a vow of silence and Heather who’d died with the secret ever knew about what he and Billy had, but everyone still understood how close they were, and knew that, other than Max of course, he’d be taking this the hardest.

They let him lead the way, but before they could go into room B-216, Susan stopped him with a delicate hand on his shoulder. “I don’t think I should be in there.”

“I think it’s better if you are.” Steve says, taking in a shaky deep breath, feeling strange comforting Susan of all people. “I don’t want him to be alone.”

A sob from Max echoes through the empty hallway, and that’s what does it for Susan, seeing that her daughter needed her support in there. She nods with a ghastly look on her face, and steps aside to let Steve enter the room first.

Instead of the chair where he usually sat, he sat on the side of Billy’s bed, and Max followed his lead to sit on the other. Eleven took the chair, Lucas sidled up behind Max, and Susan drifted to the corner by the window. Neil stood at the door with his arms still crossed, ever imposing. Steve just ignored his presence entirely.

A nurse had followed them into the room as well, stopping at the door with her little clipboard to say, “Whenever y’all are ready.”

They wouldn’t be ready for six more hours.

To Steve, that time feels almost more torturous than even Starcourt, than helplessly watching from across the room as Billy collapsed to the floor, because this time, he knew what was going to happen. That little gleam of hope he’d gotten when Max screamed that Billy was still breathing was not there this time. He still wasn't ready for what was going to happen now, but he supposes in a way, he should be grateful that it wasn’t the same, and he’ll have the chance to say goodbye.

Steve couldn’t speak for everyone, but he also used the time to think. About Billy, and who he had been, how much he had meant to Steve and the things he wanted in life. About all the things that led them to this moment, and everything that would come after.

It was mostly silent in the room, everyone just a little bit in shock, most of them crying at least once. But Steve swore up and down he was going to keep his composure, he would not let those kids, or his Billy, see him crack.

They make it especially hard to keep that promise though, knowing that Max was mad at him and that Lucas, who he’d never seen be anything other than headstrong and brave, even has a tear on his cheek, and when El is shaking and holding back sobs and Billy is going to die. It feels like he is underwater, with each beep of the heart monitor sinking further and further from the surface, away from his friends and from Billy.

He is in shock too, he guesses. All he can do is focus on Billy. The barely there freckles scattered across his nose, the arch of his lips, the tattoo on his shoulder, his golden curls and his long eyelashes. He wishes he could see the pretty blue eyes underneath.

Somebody says his name, he isn’t quite sure which of them it was. He feels himself turn his head in their direction, but his eyes are glued to Billy, taking in every little detail of his lover before it was too late. Before he’d never see his face again.

At one point, Susan checks the time and suggests they all go down to the cafeteria for a little break, but nobody, including her, moves at all. They all knew the longer they waited to pull the plug, the closer they got to not doing it at all. Steve kind of hopes that will be the case, that they will just keep putting it off and putting it off until visitation hours end, and they’ll have to come back the next day, and the next, and this won’t ever have to happen.

That wouldn’t work though, and in truth, he doesn’t really want it to. They are ready, and so is Billy.

At 5:30, Steve gives Max a look, and she nods sharply, a tear dripping off the end of her nose. He leans forward, and presses the orange call nurse button.

A solemn lady he doesn’t recognize, Billy's doctor probably, knocks on the door and comes in. She asked if they were sure, bringing along even more papers for him and Susan to sign about what would happen to Billy afterwards and to give written consent to pull the plug so they wouldn’t be able to open a case against the hospital for Billy's death.

She explains to them it might not be immediate, that he could live for hours, or even days without the support before he dehydrated or suffocated, but they didn’t think it would come to that. Although his heart had only really been grazed by the initial injury, it was getting weaker with every day that passed, the medicine they pumped into his body slowing its rate, ruining the muscle, and it was estimated that he probably wouldn’t make it through the night, if even for that long.

She worked around Steve and Max, removing IVs, tubes, anything that was artificial, and then it was time to wait. Immediately his heart rate slowed, and Steve felt himself starting to panic, thinking that this was already going to be it, but it plateaued and kept going steady.

Susan’s quiet voice comes from the corner, “Do you think we should talk to him?”

The doctor smiles artificially. “I think that would be the best thing you could do.” She takes the papers back and leaves.

Nobody wants to be the first to break the quiet.

El still struggled too much with her words to say anything, especially since she hadn’t had much practice with something like this. Her dad had been ripped away from her too, without so much as a goodbye. Loss wasn’t something she could articulate, so in the place of words, she holds Billy's hand in her right, and Max’s in her left.

Lucas had his hand on her back, rubbing circles there to calm her down. There were tears streaks on his cheeks, probably from seeing the girls so torn up, but he really didn’t know Billy, and he was uncomfortable enough with Neil looming. He didn’t have anything to say to him, and they all understood that.

It was hard for Max to think of anything to say, every emotion too strong within her to pick one thing to say. She was devastated, that her brother was going to die and she hadn’t been there with him every moment, and angry, that Steve got to make the choice whether he got to live and that her step father was in the room, and somewhere under the surface, relieved that Billy wouldn’t be suffering anymore. It was her best friends’ silent support that gave her the courage to speak up.

“I was supposed to say goodbye to you when you left for work that day, but I didn’t because I was being jerk and I was mad at you for something dumb. I guess this is my chance though so.. bye Billy. M’gonna miss you, or really I already do ‘cause, you know... I'm sorry for not being a good sister, but I don’t think you would’ve liked me if I was.” She chuckles wetly, a sob disguised as much at least, “I love you, bubba. I'm sorry.”

Silence blankets the room except for her sniffling, and Steve knows it’s his turn. Before he’d got there, he was planning out things he could say that would sound as platonic as possible, anything to try to save his image in front of the kids and Billy's parents apparently, but he scraps it all in the moment. These were the last moments he’d ever spend with his Billy, he couldn’t care less anymore who knew about them or not. He just needed him to know how much he loved him.

He wishes he had just a little more time to think, but Neil and Susan have nothing to say to Billy. Figures. Quite frankly, Steve is glad they hadn’t said a word either.

Billy and Susan never got along. He admitted he didn’t blame her for being complacent in his father’s abuse, but he still found it hard to move past her standing idly by while he was getting hurt. He had once swore when he’d turned up at Steve’s front door with a broken wrist that he would never forgive her for just standing by. It was for the best, Steve thinks, that she didn’t speak now.

Then there was Neil, never a man of many words, but Steve thinks he might’ve needed a second hospital bed if he’d opened his mouth. He was in some part okay with the fact that he was here, Billy would’ve wanted him to be present, but he drew the line at him opening his mouth. That man had tortured Billy, had put all kinds of terrible motions in his head about love and his worth and a thousand other things that left Billy confused and hurt, so Steve wholeheartedly blames him for his son's fate. Believes it was Neil and what he’d done to him that made Billy give up the fight.

Taking a deep breath to steel himself, Steve moves up the bed closer to Billy, and takes his hand in his. He bites his chapped lips and thinks long and hard about what he wants to say, leaving out all the bad, depressing things he could say. He got to choose what his last words would be to Billy, and he would be damned if they weren’t going to be positive.

“Bill, where do I even start? You’ve been so brave. I promised you you would become something great, and you did. You were our hero, but I’m so, so glad I know you as more than that. Because you were, you were an amazing older brother, a determined kid who could have had anything he wanted in life, and you were my partner.” There's a collective intake of breath, a sniffle from Max, and Neil leaves the room entirely, but Steve keeps going, “I’ll have the memories we made forever, and I will hold onto them as dearly as I have you all this time. I love you. I will always love you, Billy.”

The whole time he’d been speaking, his eyes had been flickering back and forth between the heart monitor and Billy’s face, checking for any sign that he could hear him and that they were doing the wrong thing, but there was nothing. Nothing but his too-slow heart beat droning on and on, maybe faltering more often than it should.

Steve knows that means it’s time to let go, so he finishes, his throat tight and his hands shaking, saying what he’d been fearing he’d have to since the very beginning, “You’ve fought hard enough, baby. You can let go.”

Twenty minutes later, at 6:19 on Sunday, January 25th, William Reuben Hargrove took his last breath.

Steve felt Max sob so hard that the bed shook, then stand up and throw herself into Lucas’ arms, and he heard Susan gasp and saw her cover her mouth with her hand and put her shaking hand on El’s shoulder. He heard a nurse open the door so far and so fast it hit the wall, but he didn’t really comprehend any of it. Deeper and deeper he continued under the water, sinking away from this reality he wanted nothing to do with.

He’s still clutching Billy's hand like his life depends on it when Susan says from behind him. “It’s time to go, Steve.”

But he can’t move. Some force is keeping him sitting in that bed next to Billy. His legs won’t work and his hand wouldn’t let go and he regrets this, just knows he can't leave him there alone. The kids are already herded out of the room, all in a huddle out in the hallway as they try to dry their tears.

The nurses wait patiently, heads down and hands crossed politely, for Susan to get Steve out of there, so they could then get Billy out too.

Steve is in shock though, and if it weren’t for the staff and his friends, he probably could, or rather would, stay there indefinitely. He was so distant from what was actually happening, that he hadn’t quite taken note of how quickly Billy had started to go.

Already the color is gone from his lips, and his hand, still held tightly in Steve’s, grows colder by the second. He’d been so weak already, it didn’t take very long at all, and they really don't think Steve should see him like this, lest the images of Billy in life be corrupted.

Susan puts her hand on his shoulder and squeezes, and it was as though he was brought back to reality. Looking up at her with his brown eyes wide and teary, he stands up. He looks back to Billy and gasps softly, stepping forward to press one final kiss just to the side of Billy’s lips, and turns to leave.

Where Susans hand is pressed into the small of his back, she can feel him shaking. As soon as he is out of the door, Max pulls him into a hug tight enough he feels like he could break.

“I had no idea.” She sobs into his shirt, “I’m sorry.”

“S’not your fault.” Steve answers numbly, a lump in his throat.

Max clings to his side, sniffling as they take the stairs down to the first floor. Steve keeps his head down, hating the sympathetic looks they were getting from the staff and from the people in plastic waiting chairs watching them as they left the hospital.

He’s halfway back to his car when Nancy, who’s been waiting to drive Max's friends back home, stops him, offering, “Let me take you home, Steve.”

He looks, and the kids are already loading up into Susan’s truck, and Steve wonders vaguely when they’d discussed this arrangement. “What about my car?”

She had already walked him to her brand new Honda CRX, a gift from her mother in case of an emergency, and opened the door, not taking no for an answer, “You can come back for it tomorrow.”

So he just lets her drive him, too numb to argue or really to drive himself. They pull into his driveway, and he mumbles out a thanks and tries to leave, but she puts her hand on his. “Listen, I don’t think you should be alone right now Steve. I can stay or I could call Robin for you if you’d like.”

“I’ll be alright, Nance.” Steve assures. Neither of them believe it.

“Are you sure, I-“ Nancy starts, but he gets out of the car and closes the door in her face, leaving her to debate with herself whether she should try to stay and force him out of isolation, or if she should leave him to grieve in privacy. Hesitantly, she chooses the latter.

Steve and her are not as close as they used to be, for reasons she does regret dearly, and she knows her company isn’t going to be what he needs right now. Staying in her car, she waits until his front doors shut behind him, and leaves, all the way home wondering if she’d done what was best for him. Ironic, that already people were worrying for Steve in the same way he alone had for the dead boy.

Back at Max’s house, Max goes straight to Billy’s room, taking initiative to claim everything in his space before Neil could come in and throw it out. She had heard about how when Billy’s mother left, Neil had gotten rid of every last one of her belongings, leaving nothing behind for his son but the picture of his mom he kept in a locket around his neck, the one he was still wearing even now, and her ring, which was already safe with Steve. She was going to make sure Neil wouldn’t touch a thing in that room, not even to dust it if she had her way.

Susan is occupied with trying to talk through what had happened at the hospital to her husband, excuse the part where Steve had outed them, watching in frustration as he remained entirely indifferent. It was only on the surface, just as it would be for any father, but still, he’d been so terrible to his son for so many years, he knew he didn’t have the right to be upset. He’d almost been the cause of Billy’s death enough times that, now that it had actually happened, it didn’t leave him devastated in the way it should’ve.

Steve on the other hand, he didn’t get that luxury of only caring with half of his heart. His whole world had been turned on its head, and he’d just lost the only thing that was keeping him going trying to get it back upright. All he had to look forward to was visiting Billy and the prospect of him waking up one day. Now that would never happen. Billy was dead.

That still hadn’t really sunk in, and some small part of Steve wonders if it ever would. Because he knows in his head he’ll never step foot in that hospital again, and that he’ll never have a reason to get ready at five o'clock on the dot every morning and drive to the hospital to stay until ten at night, but it didn’t feel real.

He throws himself down in a random armchair, a half empty bottle of whiskey already on the coffee table in front of him from the night before. He has to remind himself this isn’t that same old routine, that he’s drowning his sorrow and mourning in alcohol instead of getting the liquid courage to do this again in the morning.

The phone rings twice, but he doesn’t answer it either time. He listens to it ring and ring and ring in a tone that's so disgustingly familiar to his ears after waiting up every night and day to calls from the hospital, but he stays where he was. It was just Robin calling to check on him, but he doesn’t want to talk to her, or anybody for that matter.

Billy is dead. And Steve is ruined.

~~~~

At 6:20 on Sunday, January 25th, Billy Hargrove wakes up.

The last thing he remembers is the Camaro swerving off the road. His head was bleeding and he thinks he called the cops, but everything after that is a blank.

He realizes after he blinks away the blur times in his eyes, that he’s in the hospital, which isn’t much of a surprise, he had hit his head pretty hard and now there's a huge gap in his memory. In his time he’d had enough concussions from playing sports and being roughed up by his old man to know he was at risk for something like this, but it still makes him wonder, how long had he been out for?

The room is freezing, and it looks like it’s snowing outside. He’d crashed his car in June, or was it July? The fourth maybe? He remembered fireworks, but not much else. His dad was supposed to take them all to the festival. Why hadn’t they gone?

He decides, ignoring the sinking feeling that soemthing was wrong, that he’d probably walked away from the car crash, but then one of his stupid hick friends probably blew him up with a fire work or something idiotic like that. The dull pain in his chest would certainly attest to that.

But one thing that can’t be explained is why, despite potentially being out for months now, he isn’t hooked up to anything. As a matter of fact, there is nothing even on for him to be hooked up to. The monitors are completely silent and the ventilator is cracked. Hell, even the lights are off.

Nobody’s here to visit either, not even a nurse to attend to him. Billy knows the trust between Max and him is still shaky, and his parents don’t give a shit, but the fact that even Steve isn’t here confuses him. Makes him wonder for a moment if he’s dead, and this is some strange afterlife he's bound to because he went out with some unfinished business.

He quickly rules that out though, because he can feel the overwhelming cold, the stiff sheets beneath him, and he can hear the wind through the open window, the distant chirps of whatever creatures lurked in the woods that seemed to surround everything in this damn backwoods town. Maybe that’s only because he’s in denial.

He stands from the hospital bed, walking slow on his feet, every muscle in his body aching like he hadn’t done this in a long time, over to the window to see if maybe he could see the parking lot and check for his dad's truck or Steve’s bimmer. It’s then that’s when he realizes this is not just a normal hospital room, albeit somewhat poorly lit, because the window isn’t just open, it’s totally shattered, jagged shards of glass in its frame and scattered on the once pristine floor tiles. Through the hole there are thick black vines that twist around every corner of the room, spreading out over the far wall and wrapping around the hospital equipment, the chair in the corner, all the way to the legs of the bed, like whatever these weird plants were had broken through the window and were slowly taking over the room.

With a shudder, Billy wonders if maybe they would have eventually overtaken him too.

He decides he’s not going to stick around and find that out for himself, so he ditches the hospital entirely. There’s no reason sticking around in a place that felt so, so full of death.

Making his way through the halls, this place is definitely abandoned. Not a single other patient or doctor around, just more flickering lights that reveal even more of the rot and death that he could see from his room, and what had looked like snow outside filling the corridors inside.

Walking out of the hospital is even worse, the entire town seeming like it had just up and emptied out. It’s so dark, no moon or stars above to light his way. Everything is plagued with rot, those same vines from the hospital window taking over absolutely anything they can. From houses, to cars, to the actual roads. There’s no way there is anyone still surviving out here, so what the hell is he doing here?

Of course, there’s nobody around to ask what’s going on, the streets totally empty save for the occasional sound of echoing footfalls in the distance, and more of that chittering he heard before. He assumes it’s just animals, but it's unsettling, to say the least, this feeling that as he wanders the empty town he’s being watched, but he doesn’t let it get to him and he pushes on, looking for answers.

First thing, he has to figure out wherever this hellish place he'd been shipped off to after his accident is, and how the hell he was supposed to get home from here.

The streets are vaguely familiar, which doesn’t mean much, he’d driven through and stayed in countless towns for three days to get to Hawkins from California, but the extent of damage to the town, and his head, makes it nearly impossible to really recognize where he is. At least that is, until he stumbles upon a convenience store he knows for sure he’s been to before, and recently.

He used to buy cigarettes here every Tuesday, Fridays too if he was having a bad week. When nobody could be bothered to go all the way to the next town for groceries, Neil would send him and Max down to that little convenience store with fifty bucks, so there was always a little extra left over he'd pocket for later, or to buy Max candy with.

Last summer he remembers breaking in after dark, broken glass and blood all over the floor tiles, looking for somebody. Somebody he was supposed to kill. Wait, what?

His head hurts just thinking about that last one, memories in his head he can’t begin to understand, so he moves on. Adds that to the checklist of the many things he didn’t understand right now for later. There were more pressing things to worry about right now.

As sure as he is that he’s alive, he begins to have his doubts when he finds the newspaper displayed out front of the store, kept behind cracked and foggy plastic. The only reason he initially thinks of it is to check the date, see if there were any front page stories about the world ending or a bomb dropping on their small town or something, but what he finds instead only makes it all even more confusing.

Because on page four of the paper, he reads his own obituary.

Beneath a small copy of his senior portrait, it reads the usual, that he died on the 25th of January, that was hurt in a fire on the Fourth of July and succumbed to his injuries, where he was born and who his surviving family members were. None of that makes any damn sense to him though, because again, he’s pretty fucking sure he’s not dead. Either way, his funeral is being held next Thursday in the church Susan dragged them to on Sunday’s where he’d been barred from attending after someone at the high school (Tommy, he’s 100% sure it’s was fucking Tommy) let slip that Billy Hargrove might have a taste for dick. He tears the obit out of the paper and pockets it for later. Maybe he’ll be able to find answers there.

There has to be some mistake. Something really bad happened here, so who was updating the papers in the middle of what looked to be the damned apocalypse? And who would lie about him being dead when he’s the only damn person left seemingly in the entire city?

The one, and probably only, good thing about this situation is that he knows his way home from here, so he decides that’s his next goal. He might have no idea what’s going on, but home is still home, and he definitely could use some comfort right about now.

It would normally only be about a ten minute walk, but this cold is starting to get to him, the stabbing pains in his chest and back made even worse by the temperature, making it more like a half hour of dragging himself through the impossible dark back to Cherry Lane, wheezing and wincing all the way. Only when he does finally get home, he finds that it’s a complete disaster.

All of the windows are shattered, the whole front door is missing, everything he can see inside the house from carpet to ceiling is damp and moldy. It’s totally unlivable, but he still tries to call out for somebody. The thought of making it home just to find it completely abandoned, no signs of Max, who he knew somehow would know what to do, or anyone else around, was crushing.

So he tries, “Max?” Nothing. “Dad..?” Still nothing.

Any ideas in his head of hope were gone then. He was clueless and alone and hurting and fucking terrified about this entire situation the more he thought about it.

Whatever had happened, he knew he wasn’t going to just lay down and take it. He’d find his way back to normalcy, to his family and his friends and to Steve. God he missed Steve.

This hellhole isn’t any place for such a pretty boy, but what Billy wouldn’t give to have him by his side right now. But since he isn’t here, he tries to think instead, what would Steve do?

Well, the answer is that he would panic, but after that, he’d devise a plan. Though, a plan usually means that you have at least some idea what is going on or what you need to do, and Billy has none of that. He’s in some backwards version of Hawkins, apparently all by himself, in freezing his ass off and in pain. He figures the best thing to do right now is start with the little things, trying to fix any of those problems he possibly can.

The first he's just going to have to deal with, and the second, he’d already gone looking for people and nobody was anywhere to be found, so that wasn’t getting solved either. He can do something about being cold though, and he does, going off to his room, or what was left of it, to grab a jacket.

The second he opens the door he can tell that isn't going to happen though, there’s nothing in there but more decay. Everything but the bed and the couch are gone, and even that has been stripped of the sheets. Best he’s going to find in here is an old rotten blanket off the floor, so he closes the door and moves on.

Max’s room is next in the hall, and he’s not kidding himself about squeezing into his kid sister's clothes, so he keeps walking, pushing open his parents door. With his clothes missing from their place, he has no choice but to hope his dads haven’t been cleared out too.

Instantly he can tell their room is thankfully less destroyed than his was, the closet at least far enough away from the window it hadn’t really been damaged at all yet. The entire house is still basically a cesspit though, and some of the clothes are unsalvageable. He grabs whatever he can out of there anyways, saving a wool coat, a lined flannel, some denim, and his dad's army jacket.

He has to swallow his pride, which isn’t all too hard when his teeth start chattering from the cold, and put on the bomber jacket Neil had favored last winter, between arguments the one thing he and his dad had agreed on being that Hawkins was way too cold and that Susan was crazy for picking there to move.

It’s familiar and it’s warm and it makes him want to throw up. Makes him wish that even if his dad would probably be kicking his ass right now for wandering around aimless and scared instead of winging it like a real man, that he was here by his side. Just to have someone he knew in all this mess to make things a little easier.

Next thing to worry about once he’s done being misty eyed about a stupid jacket, is the intense aching in his body, more than what he’s used to even after ten years of hair trigger beatings, so he finds the bathroom next in the shell of his house, opening the medicine cabinet to check for some kind of painkillers.

They’ve got plenty between all the injuries that happen in this house, and Susan’s Valium addiction, but that’s something only he knows about, but there’s too much moisture in the air though, and the pill bottles are all full of something sludgey that he’s not putting anywhere near his mouth. All he gets from the bathroom is a dull ache at the front of his skull, and more detached memories like the one at the store, this time of the girl he killed.

Her blood is still on the cabinet, just above the door knob too. The memory of her wide brown eyes and screaming, so much screaming sits heavy in Billy’s mind. Had he done that? Heather was his best friend, there’s no way he would have ever hurt her.

He shakes his head, chasing those thoughts from his mind. If he was unsettled before, now he’s officially freakies the fuck out. Already in a strange place, now his body is wracked with phantom pains he couldn’t explain and memories that didn’t belong to him, leaving Billy feeling like a stranger in his own skin.

What the hell had happened to him?

[keanureevesisbae]

Mister Cavill, your dog is kinda fat - Epilogue

Summary: Veterinarian Olivia Tran has zero time for bullshit. After becoming a mom at age twenty three, the one thing she wants is a good life for her daughter Vanessa. Her ex didn’t want anything to do with her nor the baby and she decided that man are officially banned out of her life. But then she meets Henry Cavill at her clinic and her ban slowly starts to crumble apart. Henry on the other hand is looking for one thing: a family. And when he meets Olivia Tran, he finds just that.

Henry Cavill x Olivia Tran (ofc)

Warnings: None

Wordcount: 4.1k

A/N: This will be Vanessa’s pov

Masterlist // Previous chapter //

9 years later

Name: Vanessa Tran-Cavill

Subject: English

Teacher: Mrs. Allen

Grade: 100/100 — Vanessa, you are such a talented writer. You raised the bar for every other essay I’m going to read in my entire career left as an English teacher. You have such a wonderful role model in your life. Please cherish your family for the rest of your life!

The one who taught me everything - an essay about Olivia Tran-Cavill, the greatest inspiration for me.

I was raised by the toughest woman alive. I know that a lot of kids say that about their mom, but allow me to explain why Olivia Tran-Cavill is the toughest woman I know in my life.

Her boyfriend left her when she told him she was pregnant with me, her own family (meaning her parents and her two brothers) practically disowned her, and on top of that she just started a job as a freshly minted veterinarian.

If I were in her shoes, I’d be terrified, struck by multiple breakdowns on a daily basis, but not my mom. She raised me all by herself, barely having a break or a moment of her own. I was her number one priority. She told me to be kind, to be honest and polite: personality traits that provide me with the best today and for all the days to come in the future.

There was only one thing that I desperately wanted and that was a family. I wanted a dad like the kids in my class. I wanted grandparents. I wanted aunts and uncles. I wanted to have little siblings, because I knew that I would be a great big sister.

Unfortunately that wasn’t in the stars for me and my mom told me that. It takes a brave woman to say to her young child: ‘Your real dad doesn’t want you. Your grandparents kicked me out the second they found out I was pregnant with you. Your uncles never spoke to me again.’

It hurt obviously. There were people walking around here that shared DNA with me, that were family, but they made it pretty clear that they didn’t want me nor my mother. To this day they still haven’t reached out and they honestly don’t know what they are missing out on. At least, that is what my mom always tells me.

But my mom always told me that family wasn’t all about sharing DNA, it was about finding people that you want in your life. You can choose who your family is.

Despite that wonderful piece of advice that I definitely took to heart, I continued to make her a drawing every single day. My mom and I inside our house and outside there is a man with a dog, waiting to be allowed into our life.

Waiting to become a dad.

My dad.

One day my mom was on call and had to go to the clinic at night. She took me with her and that’s the day we met Henry and his dog Kal. Little did we all know that at that exact moment, our lives drastically changed.

Henry was more of a dad in the first hour that I had met him, then my real dad was in my entire life. For the first time in life, I had a dad figure. A man who cared not only about me, but also about my mom.

Being with Henry never drastically changed my mom. She was still the bad ass mom I always had, but it did softened her up. It made her relaxed. Henry gave her what she deserved all those years of raising me by herself. Letting someone take care of her too. There is only so much a six year old could give back to a powerhouse like her mom, but there is so much more a man like Henry Cavill can give her.

He provided us with a family. A grandma, a granddad and four lovely uncles.

And for that I have to thank my mom. She allowed Henry into her life, thus into my life and gave us six amazing Cavill family members, who cared about us and loved us up to this day.

Now, I admire her every single day. The way she takes care of not only me, but also my three sisters, is something I feel like I can never live up to. Whenever some of us walk into the room, her face lights up and she drops everything to give us her full attention.

And for that I am so incredibly thankful. She taught me so much. How to love, how to catch more flies with honey than with vinegar and she taught me that it is okay to be scared, but that it should never stop you from pursuing what you want to achieve.

I know my mom was scared when she got pregnant and was dropped by all the people she thought she could trust and rely on, but it never stopped her from pursuing what she wanted: to be a great mother and an excellent veterinarian. Knowing that, I’m going to try to be the best version of myself, though I know damn well that I can never be as amazing as her.

For me, my mom is the most influential person in my life and I wouldn’t trade her for anything in the world.

≫≫≪≪

With my freshly graded essay, I walk towards my locker. This is such a great way to end the week. I worked my ass off on this essay and the fact that mrs. Allen gave me the full hundred out of hundred points is unbelievable. She never gives people higher than ninety points probably. I feel like I’m the first student in her entire career to score the highest grade possible.

‘There she is.’ I look up to see Trey walking up to me, already undoing his tie. He always tells me that he hates that thing with a passion and while I suggest he uses a clip on tie (like half the school does), he keeps on wearing the regular one. I think it’s so he can continue to bitch about it. ‘You’re going to Jimmy’s party tonight, right?’

I shake my head. ‘I’m sorry, Trey, I can’t. I have plans with my family.’

‘The entire family?’ he asks, as he leans against the row of lockers besides mine.

‘Yes, the entire family.’

‘And there is absolutely no change at all that you can ditch them?’

I can’t stop my chuckle. Usually I go out on Friday, especially if Trey invites me, but right now I really can’t go. ‘It’s important,’ I say to him. I see him fake pouting, causing me to roll my eyes. ‘Come on, don’t pout. Jimmy has parties every two weeks. I’ll be at the next one.’

Trey grins. ‘I’ll hold you to that, V. Tell your mom I said hi and also say that to your dad, because I’m afraid he’ll kick my ass next time he sees me. Oh, and say hi to your sisters, will you?’

A few weeks ago Trey came over to my place, because we were going to do algebra homework together (and because we wanted to spend time together). Dad was ready to embarrass the shit out of me (I think he has been waiting for this moment since he adopted me to be honest—he seemed to well prepared), but mom swooped right in and Trey felt instantly at ease. Ever since then, he asks me how she is doing when I see him at school.

I know it’s tough for Trey. He wasn’t raised with a mother, since she passed away during his birth, but her three brothers raised him. He loves them dearly and because of that, he can handle my dad’s antics just fine. However it’s nice for him to have a motherly figure in his life, since his uncles never dated (they would get along well with my uncles) and my mom is the right person for that.

After that algebra homework moment we had, he has been coming over a lot more often and just a few days ago, I saw him giving my mom a hug. When I asked her about it, she told me that he always likes it when he is here and it turns out, that he told her all about growing up with only his uncles and how she feels like a mom figure to him. I like how he is welcomed into my family. My sisters are absolutely smitten with him and they love it when I bring him over, since they wished I was a boy, so they could have a brother.

It’s always nice to know that your sisters love you for who you are.

‘You know, you can come over too,’ I say, not wanting Trey to leave. ‘If you want to of course.’

‘Are you sure?’ he asks, but he already has a telling smile on his face. ‘I just don’t want to intrude an important event.’

‘You won’t,’ I laugh. ‘It’s been ten years since my dad officially adopted me. We’re going to celebrate at my grandparents’ place. My uncles will be there, my aunt, nephews and my sisters.’

Trey smiles. ‘Well, if you invite me.’

I close my locker and say: ‘We are going to celebrate this whole weekend, but you can only stay today if you want to, so you won’t miss Jimmy’s party.’

‘I don’t really care about Jimmy’s party,’ Trey admits. ‘I only wanted to spend time with you.’

It’s obvious that we have a crush on each other, it’s just that I’m afraid of committing. He doesn’t seem to mind though, that pull my hand back when he wants to hold it and that we haven’t kissed, though we’ve been on a few dates.

‘So,’ Trey says as we walk out of the school, ‘your dad adopted you ten years ago.’

I nod. ‘Yeah, he made me an official Cavill from that day. If I’m being completely honest, I never thought I’d have a dad. I always thought that it was going to be me, my mom and my pleads for a dad. For such a long time I thought it was enough, though deep down I wanted a dad, but sometimes it’s just not meant for everyone, right?’

Trey nods. ‘Right.’

‘I still remember the day we met him and Kal,’ I say. ‘And I just knew that I wanted that man as my father. I was six and though I need saw my mom with a man, I just knew that they were meant for each other, you know. We were standing around the examination table, because Kal was sick and I thought to myself that this was the man that not only I wanted in my life, but my mom needed as well.’

Trey’s fingers brush against mine and I hold onto his hand, for the first time in the weeks that we are circling around each other.

I think back to the times where it was just my mom and I. She was so strong for all those years of raising me, telling me the painful truth about my biological dad, my grandparents and uncles from her side of the family, arranging all different sorts of shifts at the animal clinic and bringing me to work when necessary.

I admire my mother and the way she carefully picked out a man that was worthy of becoming my dad, of adopting me and giving me his last name. I had been Vanessa Tran for so many years, but becoming Vanessa Tran-Cavill, had been such a blessing and for the first time in seven years, I had a dad, someone who cared about me.

Someone who loved me.

And right now, I have seen how much he loved my mom, me and my sisters. I admired the way dad took care of us, while still having an acting career. He played in seven movies since I met him and five of those were being filmed here in the UK, since he didn’t want to leave us for too long.

He posts about us on Instagram sometimes, but always disables the comments. A lot of people know that I’m his daughter, but they mostly find out when we’ve known each other for a while.

Trey and I get out of the bus, but I stop him, before we walk off to my grandparents’ house. ‘I just want to prepare you. I have four nosey uncles and a granddad who just starts to talk, not knowing when to stop.’

‘It’s nothing I can’t handle,’ he laughs. ‘Remember, I grew up with three uncles and their friends. This will be peanuts.’

I smile. ‘Yeah, you’re right.’ I squeeze his hand. ‘Trey, before we go into the backyard, I have to admit something.’

‘I like you too,’ he says. ‘And I don’t mind taking it slow.’

My eyes widen. ‘How did you know I was going to say that?’

‘You’re predictable, Tran.’ Trey smiles and I roll my eyes. ‘It’s honestly no big deal. I really like you and your family and though I feel comfortable enough to go at my pace, I don’t want to force you into stuff.’ He gives me a squeeze back in my hand. ‘Your pace and no one else’s.’ He pulls me to him and wraps me up in a tight hug. I feel his chin on top of my head and I let out a sigh, before I close my eyes, nuzzling my face in his chest. This feels nice, I could get used to this.

I pull back a little, to carefully press a kiss on his jaw. ‘Come on, let’s go,’ I say, pulling him with me to the gate at the back of the yard. Together we walk into the backyard and I see everyone is already there. Uncles Piers, Niki and Charlie are standing near the barbecue, as my nine year old sister Elodie is poking Charlie in his sides. Belle has wrapped her arms around uncle Simon’s neck, giving him tons of kisses. Belle’s two year old son Hugh is trying to kick the ball, but he misses and falls flat on his bum. He waddles over to Belle, who is currently expecting another boy in four months.

My five year old sisters Chloe and Heather are the first to notice me. ‘Vanessa!’ they scream in unison, rushing towards me and wrapping their arms around my waist. ‘We missed you.’

‘I missed you guys too,’ I chuckle.

‘And you brought Trey!’ Chloe notices, jumping in his arms. ‘You are staying here for the barbecue?’

‘Of course,’ Trey says with a smile. ‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world, munchkin.’

Everyone looks up and gives me hugs and introduce themselves to Trey if they haven’t met him already. Grandpa Colin gives me a big hug and slips fifty pounds not only in my hand, but also in Trey’s hand. ‘So you can take her out on a date, young man,’ he tells Trey.

When we walk over to my parents, Trey says: ‘Damn, I get fifty pounds for showing up here. Should I tell your grandad when my birthday is?’

‘Don’t,’ I say sternly, pinching his side.

Kal licks my hand and I scratch him on top of his head. He is not fat anymore (as if my mother would allow that). He is also not as active as he used to be when I met him, but he is still the most loyal and biggest sweetheart in the world, always taking care of me and my sisters.

My mom holds out her arms and Trey doesn’t hesitate for a minute to be engulfed in her arms. Dad wraps his arms around my waist and bumps his nose against my cheek. Elodie, Chloe and Heather often wonder why we do that, but it’s our thing and it’ll always be our thing. ‘There you are, sunshine,’ he says.

‘It’s a special day today,’ I say. ‘You have any regrets?’

He scoffs. ‘Are you kidding me? As if I could have regrets.’

‘You still have the receipt?’

He laughs. ‘Like I would ever use that.’ He gives me a kiss on my cheek and says: ‘You brought your boyfriend with you, I see.’

Normally I’d protest against his antics, but now… I actually don’t mind. I quite like it actually. I like the idea of Trey being my boyfriend. ‘Well, yeah.’

Dad gives me a big kiss, before he places me on my feet again. Trey wipes his hands clean on his jeans, before he extends his hand to my dad. I don’t quite know what happens after that, because mom pulls me into a hug. Though I’m seventeen now and my mom is reaching the forty already, she barely aged.

It’s admirable, really. After she gave birth to Elodie and she lost that much blood, it was the scariest experience in my life. I thought, with the way everyone was looking at each other when dad called, my mom would die. It took her six months to recover and I helped out the best I could, but I knew that asking for another sibling too soon, wouldn’t help. Four years after she had Elodie, she became pregnant with twins and after that she did not want more kids. Ideally she wanted three, I remember her saying that to dad, but now she had four and though she loved it, it was enough.

‘How was school?’ mom asks.

‘It was great. I got my English essay back.’

‘Oh really? How did you do?’

‘I’ll tell you in a minute.’

Mom tilts her head when she looks at Henry and Trey, who seem to hit it off actually. ‘You chose a good one,’ she tells me. ‘So proud of you, sweetheart.’ Mom wraps her arm around my waist and gives me a kiss. ‘Oh no, mom!’ she yells to grandma Marianne. ‘Wait, don’t carry everything.’ Mom rushes off to the kitchen and I can’t hide my smile.

I’m happy that all these people are my family. From the looks of Trey, he actually is a bit nervous. I walk up to him and my dad and wrap my arm around his hips. He is tense, but wraps his arm around my shoulders. ‘You’re not bugging him, are you, dad?’

‘No, of course not,’ he says, but I cock my eyebrow, causing him to say: ‘Just asking him what he will do with that fifty pound your grandpa gave him.’

Of course my dad noticed that.

He excuses himself, walking up to the barbecue, lifting up Elodie in the process. I look up at Trey and I ask: ‘I thought you said this would be peanuts?’

‘It will be peanuts,’ he tells me. ‘Just have to warm up a bit.’ He smiles, pearly white teeth framed by his full lips. ‘This definitely helps.’

‘Okay, love birds,’ uncle Niki yells, ‘come on. We’re getting ready to eat.’

I feel a blush creep up on my cheeks, but despite that, I still chuckle. He laces his fingers through mine, as we walk to the big table in the backyard under the parasol. ‘I just want to say one thing,’ grandma Marianne says, ‘and that is that I want to thank my son for overfeeding his dog, so he met the greatest veterinarian of all times, who—together with her oldest daughter—brought so much joy and happiness into the family.’

‘Mom, it has been ten years!’ dad says. ‘Please, let it go. I’m not overfeeding Kal anymore.’

It has been an ongoing joke, every time my dad gives Kal a little snack, at least one of the entire Cavill Clan says something along the lines of that we have to hide the other snacks.

‘But anyways,’ grandma says, ‘I am so happy that now we are this big and happy family. It’s all I really wanted.’

Everyone takes a deep breath, because we all realize that it could’ve gone so differently. I clear my throat and say: ‘I got my English essay back and got myself a hundred out of a hundred points.’

‘Shut up!’ uncle Piers says. ‘You got a perfect score? When was the last time something like that happened with us?’

‘None of you boys ever got a perfect score,’ grandpa Colin says. He sometimes can’t remember how to use the remote, what my sisters or my name is, but this he knows.

‘Anyways,’ I say, ‘it does have something to do with what happened ten years ago. I mean, becoming officially a Cavill has been the greatest thing ever. I watched my life do a complete one eighty and though I have to thank my dad for that, there is one woman who absolutely changed my life and is such a wonderful role model for not only me, but also my sisters, that I decided to write my essay about my mom.’

Mom’s eyes widen, before she scrunches up her nose. ‘Why?’

This is such a typical reaction from her, so I cannot stop my laugh. ‘Because mom, you are amazing. Everything that I have, started with you. Everything I understand, I do, I think about, is because of the way you took care of me and raised me. I know that I tell you this a lot, but mom, I love you so so much and everything you did for me, it’s so admirable. I owe so much to you.’

Mom clears her throat. ‘Oh sweetie,’ she mumbles. ‘You don’t owe me anything.’

‘You did so well, mom,’ I whisper. ‘I’m so lucky to have been raised by you.’

She grabs my hand and gives me a loving squeeze. ‘Sweetheart, could you come with me for a second?’

The two of us walk inside of the house, as we hear conversation strike up behind us. The second we are out of sight, she wraps her arms around me. This is what she always does, not wanting to cry in front of the other Cavills, always going to a secluded place. ‘I love you, Vanessa,’ she whispers. ‘I think I’ve done a pretty good job with you.’

I can’t help but laugh. ‘You did an excellent job, mom. You are honestly the biggest power house I’ve ever met.’

‘Could you imagine what would’ve happened if Belle was able to baby sit you?’ mom asks. ‘Because you, my love, charmed yourself a way into your father’s heart.’

I chuckle. ‘I kinda did, didn’t I?’

Mom smiles, as she holds tightly onto my hands. ‘I know you always thank me for giving you the family you always wanted, but remember: if you weren’t so instantly in love with your dad, I don’t know if I had given it a shot to be honest.’

That is such a weird thought, I think to myself. I always stop myself when I want to think about the ‘what ifs’ and my entire family never really brought it up. Maybe when I was younger, but never with me. But what if indeed I were to stay over at Belle’s place, I would’ve never known that Henry was there probably. Imagine the life that we would’ve had. Maybe I had given my biological father Wesley a chance and then I didn’t have my three wonderful sisters.

‘What are you two doing here? Poor Trey is being questioned by Niki, Charlie and grandpa and the old man is not holding back.’ My dad walks in and though he has reached the ripe age of forty eight, he is still the tall and bulked up man that I met in the examination room. He is still the man that loved me like I was his own.

‘Just thanking my daughter for being such a lovely girl, who charmed her way into your heart.’

‘Oh, you sure did,’ dad says with a smile. ‘My lovely sunshine, I love you so much and I can’t believe it’s been more than ten years since I met you and your mom.’ He wraps his arms around us and says: ‘Though I still feel the fear of Kal vomiting on the carpet with blood, I am so grateful that you picked up and the other clinics didn’t.’ He presses a kiss on my mom’s forehead.

‘Dad, when did you realize you were in love with mom?’

‘Well, I told myself that I shouldn’t have a crush on someone that I barely knew,’ dad says, ‘but I can tell you that deep down in my heart I knew that this beautiful woman stole my heart the second she said the seven words that I’ll never forget. Mister Cavill, your dog is kinda fat.’

≫≫≪≪

Bonus instagram posts:

Elodie and Vanessa

Elodie with Olivia

Pregnant with twins!

Pre teen Vanessa showing Henry that he is an actual boomer

Chloe and Heather

Vanessa as a teenager

Elodie as a teenager

Chloe and Heather as teenagers

A/N: soooo this is the end of this wonderful story, though I wish this would go on forever. Thank you so much to all the people who have been reading this, leaving lovely comments. Thanks to this story I gained so many new followers. I never expected it to blow up like this haha. Not to self promote but will do anyway, but please check out my other works if you haven’t already (and if you want to of course, I’m not going to force you to read my other fics) and of course I’ll be back with other fun projects, that I obviously will announce like usual 🤗

[pagingevilspawn]

Would you please write a fic about alex behaviour with children like the way he comforts them or help them through?

heart of gold

hey there! i’m not gonna lie when i say that this prompt took me forever to figure out, but when i did i was super excited! 

this is mainly Alex centric with a bit of jolex added in (obviously). i hope you like it!

___

Of all people to notice Alex Karev’s strange ability to work well with children first, no one would’ve expected it to be Cristina Yang. 

It was fairly early in their intern year, and both she and Karev were on the pediatrics rotation with Dr. Keith, someone who they could both agree was an arrogant son of a bitch that thought way too highly of himself for his own good. 

They’d been trailing behind him like lost puppies all day, listening to him go on and on while he talked to the patient’s families, not even bothering to ask his interns any questions. He always thought that interns were a waste of time and space. He’s much rather have at least a third year resident on his service, but no such luck. They felt like crap and both wanted to kick the guy in the ass, but knew that the only thing that would do is get them knocked out of the program. 

Six hours into their shift, the two were about to head to the cafeteria for a much desired lunch break when their pagers rang out, loud groans escaping their mouths at the noise they had come to detest the last couple of weeks. 

All Alex really wanted was a slice of the hospital’s pizza. Granted, the crust tasted like cardboard, the cheese was old, and the sauce had no flavor, but he was craving it like crazy. He hadn’t gone out for groceries recently, so the only thing that was stocked in the shelves of his small apartment was cereal, some oatmeal, and off brand, nearly expired crackers that he had since he finished med school a couple of months ago. He had --for some unknown reason-- shoved them into a backpack that had made it with him as he traveled from Iowa to Washington, completely untouched. 

With a huff he turns on his heel and makes his way to the pit where he was being paged, purposefully avoiding eye contact with the nurse he disrespected on his first day, along with the ones he’d slept with and hadn’t called back. He had a pretty large list of nurses who didn’t like him, and he didn’t feel like making that list any longer. Not today, at least. 

Keith instructed him to go cast an arm for the seven year old in bed six, while Yang was told to go stitch up the cut on the little girl in bed two. 

When Alex was done he passed by Yang’s area, watching as she was trying to calm down the little girl who couldn’t be more than five. The girl had tears streaming down her face and was nuzzled into the mom’s chest. The mother was glaring at the female doctor, who was saying something Alex could make out as “it’s not even scary, it’s just a needle.” 

All he really wanted to do was get that damn pizza slice, and he had every intention of doing so, but seeing Yang be absolutely hopeless at getting anywhere with the little girl, he felt a bit of sympathy-- not for his fellow intern, but for the kid. 

With a sigh he strides over to the bed, watching as the raven head’s mouth opens to speak, cutting her off immediately. “Let me handle this.” he says, reaching to grab the needle from her head. 

Cristina glares at him, her expression turning into one of disgust. No way was she going to let Evil Spawn steal her patient, no matter how much she wished she’d be doing anything else. 

“Karev-”

“--Yang!” he cuts her off sharply, plucking the needle from her hand and bumping her out of the way. Not the nicest thing to do, but she was practically terrifying the little girl. There was no way she would trust the doctor now. 

His coworker scoffs, huffing a ‘fine’ before she goes to stand back and watch the scene, more than eager to watch the man fail. What good could he do? The girl was crying the second she had taken the disinfectant out. 

Alex pulls up a chair, grabbing the attention of the little girl, who looks up from her mother’s chest for a second, only to dive back in right after. 

“Hey kid, my name’s Doctor Karev. You mind telling me your’s?” he asks gently, slipping on a pair of gloves and flashing a signature crooked grin. 

The girl makes eye contact warily, slightly unlatching from her mom's tight hold at the sight of the man’s smile. The other doctor looked super serious, it was kind of scary. 

“Piper.” she answers, wiping the tears from under her eyes, the mom flashing him a grateful smile. 

“Hey Piper.” he grins. “I see you got hurt up there. What happened?” he wettens the pad with disinfectant, keeping his eyes on the little blonde, knowing it would mean less questions if she was focused on his face. 

“I was jumping on the couch and then I fell and hit the table.” she explains, Alex inspecting the cut to see if her story was reliable. He knew firsthand what it was like to come up with excuses for the bruises on your face, and wanted to make sure that she wasn’t just trying to cover up for something else that happened. 

Luckily, the combination of the authenticity of the bruise and the level of trust the daughter had in her mom let him know that she really did do what she said. He knew at some point he was gonna need to not assume the worst in every parent that came in with an injured kid, but the wound was still fresh for him, and it would take some time to heal-- a long time.

“Well then Piper, I’m gonna need to clean your cut, but it’s gonna sting a bit. Is that okay?” he asks her, her green eyes widening, but eventually nodding. The doctor seemed nice enough. 

He cleans the wound, turning back at the girl when he pulls out a needle, watching as her face begins to look panicked. “Hey, it’s okay.” he reassures her. His eyes dart around, noticing a backpack that sat in the corner, decorated with a multitude of princesses. 

“Who’s your favorite princess?” he asks her, drawing Piper’s attention away from the scary needle in his hands. 

“Belle.” she answers, a small smile making its way to her face. She loved talking about the princess’s and would chatter on about them anytime, any day, anywhere.  

Alex smirks, letting out a sigh of relief. He knew all about Belle, since it was Amber’s all time favorite Disney movie. He’d seen it more time than he’d like to admit, and practically had the whole film memorized since he was fourteen.

“I like Belle too. She’s super brave huh? Never afraid of the Beast or anything.” he gives her a smile, watching as Piper’s face lights up, a wide, toothless smile splayed on her lips. 

“Yeah! She’s so cool! She never lets the beast tell her what to do!” she exclaims, making Alex chuckle. She reminded Alex a lot of his little sister, with her dirty blonde hair, green eyes, and passion for princesses. 

“Okay, well, right now I’m gonna need you to be super brave like Belle alright? And sit really really still, like she does when she reads a book. Can you do that for me Piper?” he smirks mischievously. 

The little girl grins. She always wanted to be like her favorite princess, so she definitely wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to act like one. She already practiced around the house, so she was definitely going to practice in front of the nice doctor who looked like Prince Philip.  

Cristina stood frozenly in the background, mouth opened so wide it could catch flies. Who knew Karev was so good with kids? She sure as hell didn’t.  

She watches as he stitches up the cut, saying some reassuring words every time the girl flinches or squeezes her eyes shut. It was about twenty minutes later when he finished, Yang still standing there in shock. She sees him dress the wound, getting up from his chair and say, “All done. You did awesome Piper, but no more jumping on the couch, alright?” which earns him a nod. He flashes a friendly wink to the mom, who blushes as he walks away, forgetting entirely about Yang’s presence as he makes his way to the cafeteria to finally get his hands on the pizza slice he’s been drooling about for hours.

Maybe Evil Spawn wasn’t so evil after all. 

~*~

Miranda Bailey was exhausted. Between Tuck and trying to begin a pediatric fellowship, all she wanted to do was lie down and sleep for god knows long. Tucker being difficult about their shared custody schedule seemed to only add to her fatigue and she swore on her life that she could crash on the nearest gurney and not wake up for three days straight. 

It was with a heavy sigh she begrudgingly made her way back down to the NICU, remembering that she had left Karev there the day before after administering the kangaroo hold. She knew that by now he had probably dispersed, but she felt like checking on the little baby herself, just to make sure that the preemie was doing okay.

When she arrived at the NICU doors she could see a few faces that she recognized standing outside the window, talking in hushed conversations as they stared at the scene in front of them with imploring eyes, that is, until the one she knew as Reed rushed away-- a friend at her side, finishing their conversation quickly. 

Miranda shakes her head. Though she had softened over the years, everyone still feared the inner ‘Nazi’ that came out from time to time. When she finishes gowning herself she makes her way into the room, stopping in front of the shirtless, sleeping figure on a chair. Surprised was the only word she was able to come up with, though it seemed like an understatement of the century. Alex Karev was sitting there, with a sleeping baby curled contently against his chest, her tiny breaths in sync with the man who was holding her. 

She shakes her head, stopping a few feet from where the man sat. “Karev?” she says, making him open his groggy eyes, blinking as he does so to look around for the source of the noise, relaxing when he knows that no monitors are going off and the baby on his chest is still very much alive. 

“Did you stay here all night?” she asks softly, watching as he looks out the window to see that it was in fact daytime, not evening like it was before he’d fallen asleep.

He takes another look at the baby in his arms, “Um, yeah. I… I guess I did.” he trails off, his voice rough since he barely was awake.  

“Go home, get some rest. The nurse will take over for you.” Miranda scolds. These interns (who were now residents) were like her children, her babies, and as much as the sight warmed her heart, she needed her babies to be well rested. She couldn’t have them falling asleep in the middle of surgery. 

He unintentionally pulls the tiny bundle of pink a bit closer, “No. Uh, I- I’m okay. I’m… good here.” 

She lets out a small, barely there laugh, but not at him. She’d seen the soft side of Alex Karev, but it was few and far between. Everyone knew that the rough exterior he put up was just to stop himself from getting hurt, but this… this side was new. She had never seen him more vulnerable than he was right now, the baby sleeping so soundly on his chest that it seemed like no amount of noise could disturb her. 

“Well, you'd be good in Peds, you know that?” she flicks her gaze from him to the baby. “You get invested. You have good instincts. You stick to your instincts,” she continues, Alex looking down at the child, making some kind of face she wouldn’t know how to describe. 

“You’d be good in Peds, Karev.” she walks away, leaving Alex alone with his thoughts. 

Maybe, just maybe, kids would be the one thing that would allow Karev to show everyone who he really was. 

~*~         

Alex Karev had sort of snuck up on Arizona Robbins. When he said that he was interested in Peds, she truly thought that he was joking, just trying to say something to either get a laugh out of her or annoy her. 

She didn’t know much about Karev, all she really knew was what she had heard from the nurses gossiping loudly at their stations, and the occasional input from Callie here and there. All she really knew was that he had been married to Stevens, who had cancer, then they later got divorced, and before he was married he had earned himself quite a bit of a ‘man-whore’ reputation, nearly as bad as Mark’s. 

Arizona was weary about Karev, so imagine her surprise when she saw his face light up as a kid called him Doctor Alex for the first time. 

The first time she’d ever had the young man on her service she knew that he was cold, arrogant, and a bit too cocky for his own good. He was overall an asshole, and to say Robbins wasn’t happy to have him on her service was an understatement. Bailey had said something to her recently about Karev, but that didn’t lessen her lack of enjoyment about his upcoming arrival on her floor. 

When the man did arrive, he was seven minutes late for rounds, dumping an empty cup of hospital bought coffee in the nearest trash can. He flashed her a crooked grin, apologizing for his tardiness, but not explaining why.

Arizona sighed, rolling her eyes discreetly. She wasn’t normally a strict teacher, but one thing she didn’t like was when her residents were late. The lives of tiny humans were in their hands, no second could be wasted-- much less seven minutes.

“Welcome to peds Doctor Karev…” She starts off, telling him about how pediatrics wasn’t wiping kid’s noses and cuddly bunnies all day long. Peds was hardcore, only for the elite. 

She stops outside room 414, turning back to Karev and giving him as stern of a glare as she could muster. “Remember Karev, smile, engage. These are kids we’re talking about here.” 

Alex rolls his eyes. He knew he wasn’t the nicest guy. He was an ass, a douche, and definitely not the man most women would be proud to take home to their parents. But if there was one thing he did know, it was kids. He practically raised one for god’s sake.  

“Got it Robbins.” he huffs, fixing his posture as the two walk into the room, where a little boy sat on his bed, playing with his colorful toys that sat on his lap, anxious parents sitting in chairs beside him. 

Arizona flashes a grin to the family, directing her attention back to the boy. “Hi Nico, how are we doing today?” 

Nico shrugs, mustering a half-hearted smile. “I’m okay.” he answers, more focused on his toys than the doctors in the room.

“Well that’s good,” she jots something down on her chart. “This is Dr. Alex. He’s gonna be another one of your doctors, okay Nico?” 

“Doctor Alex?” the boy confirms, making Arizona look up from her chart and Alex look back at the boy. 

She saw it then. The way his eyes lit up at the name, how a crooked grin unconsciously made its way to his lips. He had it. The peds glow. 

“Hey dude.” Alex smirks, trying to hide is bubbling excitement. He liked that name, ‘Doctor Alex’. It was different from Karev. It was lighter, easier, it sounded right. Doctor Karev was too… but Doctor Alex? Doctor Alex sounded pretty great. 

Arizona bites her lip as she watches her resident and the patient interact, trying to keep her smile at bay. 

There it is. There’s the real Alex Karev. 

~*~ 

Jo Wilson sat in the intern’s locker room, knotting up the ties of her scrub pants as she listened to the chief resident rattle of names of who the intern’s were with that day. She was more than thankful for a new service, since Medusa was downright terrifying, but she was really hoping that she wouldn’t be assigned to-

“--Wilson you’re with Doctor Karev on Peds.”

Shit. 

She was sure Karev was a great doctor, I mean, he wouldn’t be here-- at one of the best hospitals in the world-- if he sucked. 

But she’d already heard enough about Karev to say that she didn’t like him, not one bit. So far she’d witnessed Leah crying into her locker about why he wouldn’t answer her calls, nurses complain to each other about why he hadn’t texted, and other interns chattering at bars about why he acted like he didn’t know them when they saw each other again.

In conclusion, he was a grade-A jackass who slept with any female that had two legs, and she was certainly not going to be the next one on his (extensive) list of conquests. No sir-ee. 

With a huff she ties her hair back, giving Stephanie a deadpan look after she whispers a “Good luck. Make sure not to sleep with him.” 

There was no way she would be sleeping with Karev, not in a million years. She had heard so much from others that she could already paint a picture-

Ew, no. That’s gross. 

Either way, there was nothing he could ever say to make her fall in bed with him. Nothing at all. 

…

She was exhausted. Karev was an ass. An ass who didn’t hate her, but was still an insufferable asshole. Jo stood at the nurses station, leaning over the counter as she filled out her charts, scribbling down her notes angrily. He made her angry. 

Though she had to admit, seeing him all freaked out over her (fake) crying was pretty hilarious. 

“--Wilson!” she hears her name being called by her asshole of a superior. She turns around, plastering such a faux smile on her face that she felt nauseated just knowing that it was there. 

She’s about to respond when Doctor Grey comes running up to him, shoving a toddler in his arms, taking him by surprise. 

“Alex. I need you to watch her.” the blonde pleads, making him scrunch his eyebrows. 

“Mer I-” 

“Please.” Meredith begs, Alex giving her a crooked grin as he takes ahold of his niece. If there was one thing that could make Alex Karev smile without even trying, it was Zola Grey Shepherd, a two and a half year old little fireball.  

A large grin comes across the little girl’s face as she looks at the man in front of her. “Unca Lex!” she exclaims, clasping her tiny hand on the side of his face. 

“Hi Ms. Zozo,” he smiles, Jo not even noticing how the corner’s of her mouth quirked up at the sight. This was not the Doctor Karev she’d been with these past few hours, this was someone completely new. This was… Alex? 

Meredith sighs. “I have on OB appointment, and normally we’d take her, but she’s just been so fussy lately, and when I tried to take her to daycare she threw a fit-”

Alex cuts her off, “Mer, it's fine. I got her.” he reassures her, pretending to bite the little girl’s finger as it came close to his face, causing her to let out a loud squeal. 

“Okay but-”

He rolls his eyes at the blonde, “Mer, go. She’ll be completely fine.” he smirks. “We all know that she likes me better than you and Shep combined so…” 

Meredith hits him on the shoulder before she turns and waddles down the hall, leaving Alex with a toddler in his arms that was giggling as he tickled her, and an intern who wasn’t quite sure what she was seeing in front of her. 

It was obvious that he had some skills with children, he was a pediatric surgeon for crying out loud. But nobody told her he was this good with kids.She watched as a large smile came across his face, a laugh escaping his mouth at Zola’s squeals and giggles. 

Maybe Alex Karev wasn’t as much of an asshole that she thought he was. 

~*~ 

Nothing was more perfect to him than the sight in front of him. 

Never in a million years did he ever think that he would get to where he was now. 

Alex sat next to his wife as they stared down at the little baby on her chest, her pink cheeks puffed up while her eyes were tightly squeezed closed as she tried to sleep. She was so perfect. So, so perfect.  

A daughter. 

He had a daughter. 

A little bundle of pink that weighed a whole six pounds, seven ounces. Yet somehow, she had managed to take his heart out of his chest and hold it in her tiny, tiny palm. 

Nothing could’ve prepared him for how much he already loved his little girl. He’d heard about it, read about it. He’d been in the room when parents met their child for the first time. But this? This was a whole new level of love, something he wasn’t prepared for in the slightest. 

He watched as Jo ran her thumb delicately over the baby girl’s cheeks, tears streaming down Jo’s face. It had been all of two minutes since they welcomed their daughter into the world and she hadn’t stopped crying since. 

Although he wasn’t crying, his throat was built up as he stared at his perfect little girl. A full head of wavy light brown hair sat on top of her head, her rosy lips pouted as she nestled closer to her mother’s chest. 

Perfect. 

That’s the only word that could describe the tiny figure that laid before him.

He rubs his pinky finger over her little fist, watching as it unfolds and grabs it with all of her strength. 

He can feel his heart physically clench, never before had something felt as right as feeling his little girl’s palm around his finger. 

Alex grins, placing a small kiss on the top of Jo’s head, a silent way of saying so many different things at once. 

Thank you. 

You did so well. 

You’re so strong. 

She’s so perfect. 

I love you.

Thank you for marrying me.

Thank you for loving me. 

Thank you for everything.  

Thank you.

Jo readjusts the baby on her chest, bringing her up higher for them to see. 

She lets out a watery smile, her bottom lips trembling as she stares at the tiny girl that she would do anything for. “Hi sweet girl.” she whispers, not even bothering to wipe the water droplets that cascaded down her cheeks. 

Alex lets out a crooked grin, a small laugh escaping his throat in disbelief. This perfect creation was his daughter. How was that even possible?  

“Welcome to the world Lorelei Karev.” he whispers, unable to focus on anything except the tiny girl that he would give up the sun, the moon, and the stars for. 

“We love you so much.” Jo speaks softly, looking up at her husband, the love of her life, her eyes saying more than her mouth ever could. 

Thank you. 

I love you. 

She’s so perfect. 

Thank you for her. 

Thank you for everything. 

Thank you for loving me. 

Thank you.  

They share a small kiss, reveling in the moment they knew they would remember for the rest of their lives. 

It was then he defied all odds. Overcame all of his fears. He wasn’t going to be like his dad, what everyone told him he was going to be. He was going to be an amazing dad, and he knew it.

As it turns out, kids truly were the one thing that could show everyone who the real Alex Karev was after all.