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to-thelakes · 7 months

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concussed

pairing; luke alvez x fem!reader

summary; after you are attacked by the latest unsub, luke does his best to take care of you while you suffer from a concussion.

warnings; hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, minor injury, vomiting, stubborn reader, reader is concussed, a bit of a enemies to lovers but not really enemies

notes; i wrote this thing last night, i wanted to write something angsty because i wasn't feeling great and so i found an angry confession prompt but then it sort of just spiralled away from the anger and we have this! i sat and did some research on concussions (and u can sleep while concussed contrary to popular belief) so this should be accurate-ish! i might do a part two but for now, here it is <3

ao3 / masterlist

The case was taking a toll on your team and you wanted to try and pretend that it was okay. But it wasn’t. You continued to hit dead-end, after dead-end. Your profile didn’t seem to be leading you to any plausible suspect and the killer was devolving into a spree. And as much as being unable to solve the case was bothering you, something else was.

Luke fucking Alvez.

Honestly, you got along with Luke amazingly, most of the time. You’d had a rocky start when he had helped the team with finding the fugitives. He preferred to work alone which infuriated you because you were used to working in a team. He was defensive, reluctant to work with you and just annoying. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was but everything he did made your jaw clench and you wanted to punch his stupidly handsomely angular jaw.

JJ noticed it almost immediately when he began to work with the team. She often did her best to keep the peace between you and that had led to Rossi dragging you into his office more than once to try and understand what was going on. Hotch did the same before he left and then Emily did but every time, you made it clear that you didn’t have any issues with him.

Because you didn’t. He just ticked you off and after him spending so much time with BAU, the irritation slowly began to seep away. But there was something about the way he was acting on this case that was irritating you again. It was tipping you over the edge and you were ready to hit him if he stepped out of line.

And it just got worse when Emily kept assigning you to do tasks together. You assumed she was trying to heal the rift that had suddenly formed between the two of you but if anything, it had just made it all worse. You were walking on eggshells around him and he was doing the same with you. There was no harmony, no talking. It was just two frustrated agents, doing a really bad job at doing their jobs.

You were beginning to think maybe that’s why you were finding it so hard to understand the case but then, Reid managed to figure something out. Which led to the team leading an assault into a warehouse where they believed the victim was being held.

In the car, everybody had been quiet, only the necessary things were said. Garcia called and answered all of Reid’s questions about the location. The team coordinated with SWAT. And when you arrived, you got out and Prentiss ordered the team to take the different exits. Of course, you were paired up with Luke.

But you had to focus on the Unsub and getting the victim out safe. Which is why you did your best to ignore the ticking anger in your chest that was threatening to explode at any given moment. Luke took first position, opening the door and stepping in. He flicked his flashlight around, keeping his gun up before he nodded, giving you the all-clear to step in.

The warehouse was filled to the brim with wooden crates and the entrance led to a two-way split-off. So, Luke nodded to one side, indicating you to take it. You nodded and stepped towards it. There was the distant sound of voices but there was no way of being able to locate where it was coming from. So, you headed down the crate corridor.

You were quick on your feet but thorough as you used your flashlight to check any blind spots. You were not going to get caught unawares by the UnSub.

But that is somehow exactly what happened, you had found yourself at a four-way crossroads and you were shining your flashlights down every path, checking them out, when suddenly, a pain reverberated through your skull and you dropped.

The next few seconds were a blur of bodies moving past you as you tried to reach out for your gun, hoping to get a shot at the UnSub. However, he had hit you harder than you had initially and your depth perception was off. You tried to reach for your gun but you couldn’t pick it up. You tried to drag yourself forward but all the strength had left you.

“Luke,” You called out weakly but you weren’t sure how loud you even were. Your world was tilting on its axis when you heard the sounds of gunfire and then you slipped into unconsciousness.

When your eyes snapped back open, you had been propped up against one of the wooden crates. The warehouse must have been switched on and when you looked around, Luke was standing a few steps away talking with Matt, his back to you.

Your eyebrows furrowed and Matt noticed you were awake. He must have told Luke because suddenly his head had snapped to you and he looked pissed. You had never seen Luke actually angry but this was it and you were a little scared.

Your ears were still ringing, the world still a little hazy so you didn’t hear what Luke said but then Matt was gone. You used the crates to slowly push yourself to your feet and Luke rushed to your side, holding your shoulders to keep you stable.

“What happened?” He asked, keeping his anger carefully controlled beneath the surface.

“Unsub got me. Didn’t see him coming,” You explained, leaning back against the wooden crate. Luke stepped back, confident that you wouldn’t immediately keel over again even though your eyes were unfocused, “It wasn’t like I did it on purpose,” You added, clearly being able to see the anger that was rippling at the surface.

“If you did, this would be a different conversation,” He snapped, not amused by your comment. You sighed, letting your eyes fall closed as you pressed the heel of your hand against your forehead. Your head was throbbing and you were finding it hard to think straight.

“I’m not that fucking stupid,” You snapped back at him, forcing your eyes open so that could look at him. He huffed out in annoyance, hand moving to rub at his jaw before he looked back at you.

“I know.” His voice had softened a little. Your hand returned to your head, feeling the emotional whiplash from this conversation, “You’re impossible. You should have been more careful.” His voice had morphed from anger to relative calm as he looked at you. You muttered something in response before pushing yourself off the edge of the wooden crate.

“I’m fine, It’s not like I’m dead. So, it’s fine,” You brushed off his concern as you attempted to take a step forward. But you were completely off-balance and the movement had your world tilting off axis. Luke was quick to grab your arms, stabilizing you against him.

“No,” He responded as he helped you get back to your feet, “You have a concussion so you’re gonna stay here until the medic gets here and clears you. Is that clear?” You let your eyes fall closed again, stepping back to lean against the crate.

“Yeah, whatever,” You muttered. Once Luke was sure you weren’t gonna move again, he let go of you. He turned on his heel, pacing up and down the corridor of crates. You hadn’t seen him so stressed before. It was like he couldn’t stay still and he kept looking back at you, face set into a frown. It wasn’t helping how you felt.

“Was I bleeding?” You asked after a moment. Luke looked up and the short nod of your head made you sigh. You honestly couldn’t feel the pain but you assumed that the blood had already matted your hair. Maybe the cut on your head was the reason that your head throbbed as hard as it did. Then you felt it, bile racing up your throat. In seconds, you had turned around, hand pressed against the wooden crate, “Luke, I’m-” but you didn’t get to finish your sentence before you threw up in the space between your feet and the crate.

It burned your throat as you coughed and sputtered, tears beginning to stream down your face as your fingers curled against the wooden crate. By the time that you had done puking up, your stomach was empty and tears were running down your face. Your whole body felt weak and Luke was keeping your ponytail from falling into the line of fire.

His hand was against your back, running soothing circles as you gagged a few more times before coughing. It seemed that your body was done but your head hurt even more now. The headache had gotten worse, the violent push of vomit up your throat had just made everything a million times worse. Luke gently took hold of your shoulders, pulling you back from the mess of vomit before he turned you around. He was careful, keeping your movements slow as he pulled a cloth from his pocket. He was gentle as he wiped the corners of your mouth for you and you looked up at him, tears blurring your vision. He placed the cloth on a nearby crate before he pulled you into his chest.

The tears were burning your cheeks but his arms engulfing you brought some much-needed comfort.

“Sorry, that was, that was disgusting,” You said against his chest. You were sniffling, silent tears falling down your cheeks as your head began to pound even more.

“Medic’s here,” Matt said, startling both of you. His gaze flicked from the two of you to the pile of vomit on the floor and he quickly understood what was happening. The medic then approached the two of you and you cautiously stepped out of Luke’s hold. The medic walked you to a nearby crate and made you sit down.

She then asked what date it was, what year you were in, who was president and it made you realize that you were a little foggy on the details. Everything about your personal life was intact but the second you got out further than that, it all became a little muddy. You were able to tell her everything. You told her what year it was and what president was in office but it took you longer than you would have liked to admit.

Then she made you follow her finger but you were finding it hard. It made your eyes hurt and your head ache and then she shined the flashlight in your eyes. The dilation levels of your pupils didn’t change at all.

“You’ve got a concussion,” The medic stated and you nodded, “Do you live with anyone at home?” She asked. You shook your head.

“It’s just me,” You muttered. She sighed.

“Okay, if that’s the case, it might be best if I get you checked into the hospital. You’ll likely be fine but you need someone to be supervising you at all times in case your symptoms get worse,” She explained.

“I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself,” You tried to argue but the medic didn’t seem satisfied. She glanced at Luke and Matt who had silently watched the interaction, not sure what to make of your current state. Then she looked back at you and your head rested against the crate, eyes closed.

“Can I see your head wound?” The medic asked. Your eyes slowly reopened before you shuffled forward so she could take a look at it. You felt her push your hair around, pressing against your skull which made you seethe in pain a little. But it didn’t hurt anywhere near as much as you had expected it to, “Well, that’s good news. Your head doesn’t need stitches but I really would recommend that you stay overnight at the hospital.”

“I’ll be fine, I swear. I’ll just take it easy,” You insisted. The medic sighed and then she stepped back.

“Agents, would I be able to speak to one of you privately?” The medic asked. Luke and Matt exchanged a look before Luke gestured for the medic to follow him. Matt then walked over to you and sat down on the crate beside you.

“I think you should listen to the medic,” Matt said. You rolled your eyes before letting your eyes close again.

“I can take care of myself,” You repeated.

“I’m sure you can but you’ve got a concussion and that means your brain isn’t functioning the same,” He stated blankly. You scoffed and huffed out. You didn’t even have the energy to open your eyes anymore. You were exhausted and you felt like you could have curled up on that crate and fallen asleep at a moment’s notice. But you didn’t, “Listen, buddy, I do not doubt that you can take care of yourself but we just want you to be safe.” Matt was approaching you like he did with his kids when they were being unreasonable. It seemed to work well on them but he wasn’t so sure about what it would mean for you.

“I’m always safe. I just wanna get home and get a glass of water, all I can taste is vomit,” You admitted. Matt nodded and he glanced over your shoulder to see Luke return from his conversation with the medic. He gestured for Matt to tell you to head out and so Matt was left with the task to coax you to your feet.

He kept a hold of you as you walked out of the warehouse and when you stepped out, the lights were still flashing red and blue. It made your head hurt and you flinched away from it. The rest of the team was talking with the PD, discussing what the best course of action was when they spotted you.

JJ and Emily were at your side in seconds and JJ took you off of Matt’s hands.

“How you feeling?” JJ asked softly. You shrugged.

“Fabulous.” The sarcasm laced your tone and they both knew it but it at least meant that you were still somewhat feeling yourself.

“Are you okay to go home?” Emily asked. You shrugged again.

“Medic told me that she would advise I go to the hospital if I don’t have anyone to look over me for the next day but I’ll be fine,” You insisted. Emily’s eyebrows furrowed and she glanced at JJ, who seemed just as concerned. Emily tried to argue back but like you had been earlier, you were set in your way. You refused to go to the hospital and when Luke came over, hearing your bickering, he only made it worse.

He explained that you had thrown up and that you were refusing to listen to anyone which only made Emily even more concerned. And somehow, in the midst of the conversation, people began to discuss whether any of them could stay with you to ensure that you were okay. You honestly began to tune the conversation out, resting against JJ’s shoulder.

Your eyes reopened again after a moment and you were looking at Luke. His arms were crossed over his chest, face set into a frown and you knew that he was mad at you. He had looked so angry and you had thrown up right in front of him. You mouthed ‘I’m sorry’ to him and he sighed.

“If you both have plans, I can watch over her. Roxy can stay with the sitter for another day,” Luke interjected. You let your eyes fall closed again. It was the first part of the conversation that you had heard and you didn’t really understand it. Emily and JJ exchanged a look before they looked back down at you.

“Are you sure?” JJ asked. Luke nodded.

“Listen, I don’t have any plans. It’ll be easier,” He said simply. You opened your eyes again to look at Emily who seemed a little worried by the proposition.

So, you decided to speak up, “He can just sleep on my couch and then, if I get attacked again, I’ve got a scary man to take them down for me.” There was an amused lilt to your tone and you met Luke’s gaze. He looked honestly a little baffled by you but he didn’t say anything against it.

“I don’t mind,” He added. You smiled and nodded, lifting your head from JJ’s shoulder. She kept a hold of you.

“Okay,” Emily agreed.

“But if something happens, you call me, okay?” JJ made Luke promise. He was quick to agree and then the four of you trudged to the rest of the team. You were quick to wrap up with the local PD and you got on the jet to head home. At some point, you fell asleep on the flight but you honestly weren’t sure when.

But when you woke up, you still felt atrocious. Your head ached with every blink of your eye and your memory was still a little fuzzy. However, you did remember that Luke was coming home with you.

So, when he ushered you into his car, you didn’t bother to try and fight against it. You were surprised that he had even suggested that he could take care of you considering how snappy you’d been with each other but you didn’t have the brain power to question it.

Instead, you just directed him to your apartment, got him to park in your usual spot and he helped you get inside. You could at least walk on your own now but your head was killing you. The nap on the jet had done you good but you honestly didn’t feel much better. You need painkillers before you even went anywhere near your bed. And realistically, you needed a shower. You needed to get the blood out of your hair but you also didn’t have the energy to do anything.

Luke could tell that you were feeling overwhelmed and so, he just led you straight to where (he assumed) the bedroom was. He told you to get changed into pajamas but you were quick to start bitching about the blood in your hair. So, - with reluctance and under the condition that you kept the bathroom door unlocked so he could help you if something happened - he let you get a shower.

The water relaxed your muscles and you felt cleaner without blood clumping your hair up and so when you got out, you slipped into pajamas and trudged into the living room. He had already gotten painkillers and a glass of water out ready for you and he was sat on the sofa. He seemed to constantly be on high alert.

“Thank you,” You said before you downed the pills with the water. He was quick to stand up, checking over you and you looked a lot better, “I have some spare pillows and a cover in my bedroom. So, you can at least sleep comfortably on the sofa. Can you get the ice pack out of my freezer while I do it?” You asked. He nodded and was quick to cross over to the kitchen while you went into your bedroom.

You pulled the spare sheets from the top of your wardrobe and began to put the covers over the pillows and duvet. However, the movements were making you dizzy. You were over-exerting yourself and you had to steady yourself on the edge of your bed. That was not good but you finished the job and returned to Luke.

You dropped the duvet and pillow on the sofa before you walked over to the kitchen. Luke was wrapping the ice pack in a towel just as you came up beside him. He offered it out once he was done and you placed it against where the pain was pulsating from.

“Will you be okay on the sofa?” You asked after a moment. He nodded and you sent him a smile, “Thank you for helping me. I haven’t really given you a reason to but I appreciate it,” You explained. It was probably the most vulnerable you had been with Luke in a while and he seemed to recognise that.

“Thank you for trusting me to be here,” He said. You shrugged, adjusting the hold on the ice pack to keep it more stable, “I was worried about you. I found you in a patch of blood and I thought I had lost you. I don’t want anything to happen to you.” You weren’t sure if it was the concussion or reality but there was something akin to love in the way he spoke about you. You looked at him for a moment before you let your shoulders drop.

“I should have been more careful,” You responded. He shook his head.

“You had no way of knowing he had been there.” Luke was quick to shut you down. Everything he had said was out of frustration and worry for you but he didn’t know how to explain that. He just couldn’t have you beating yourself up over it.

“I would have if I’d just been paying attention. Instead, I was thinking about you and how angry I was at you. It would have been different if my head had been in it. But it wasn’t. We were both distracted by each other,” You said. Your voice had softened and you felt like there was a weight off your shoulders now that you had admitted that to him.

“Yeah,” He said and the silence spread between the two of you for a moment before he cleared his throat. He then suggested that you both head to bed and you thought it was probably best to call it a night. You said that Luke could change in the bathroom, and get a shower if he wanted to before you headed into your bedroom.

You curled up under the covers, thoughts of Luke lingering in your mind.

Your eyes snapped open, sweat dripping down your back as you looked around your dark bedroom. You were half-pushed up on the bed, the paranoia from your dream lingering. You could remember someone coming at you, something had come to find you but then it went completely blank. But you were safe. Nobody was trying to get you in here and so, you settled back down on the bed. It was uncommon for you to get nightmares after particularly difficult cases but it had been a while and you felt a little shaken.

Your head wasn’t hurting as much as it had a few hours ago but you didn’t feel any better than you had earlier in the day. A soft sigh escaped your lips as you kicked the covers back. You let your eyes fall closed when you heard the bedroom door open. You tilted your head to the side and Luke popped his head in.

He was surprised to see you staring back at him and he smiled, a little awkwardly.

“Please tell me you remember your name,” He said. You chuckled softly at his words before nodding your head. You repeated your name back to him and he nodded.

“Have you been checking on me since I fell asleep?” You asked. He nodded his head and you sighed, pushing yourself to sit up.

“The medic told me to check on you every hour or so,” He explained. He then stepped into the room a little bit and you rubbed your eyes with your hands. You were exhausted, you could feel it in every bone of your body. And if Luke hadn’t fallen asleep yet, you couldn’t imagine he felt much better. You wrapped your arm around yourself.

“Please tell me you fell asleep,” You muttered. He shook his head and you sighed. Your head fell forward slightly and you seemed to remember that you had gone to sleep with an icepack. Your eyebrows furrowed and you looked around. It seemed that you had dropped it but you weren’t entirely sure where.

“You looking for the pack?” He asked and you nodded. The pain was beginning to bloom in your temple again, “It’s back in the freezer.” That was a relief. You settled back on the bed but your body was still rigid, “What woke you?” He asked. Your head fell back against the headboard and you let out a hiss of pain.

“Had a weird dream,” You explained. He let out a soft ‘ah’ and you nodded, “Guess a head injury does weird things to your brain,” You muttered. He nodded. He was still leaning against the door frame and you just wanted him to get into the bed, if you were honest with yourself.

“You should try and get some sleep,” He said and you shrugged. You didn’t even want to think about trying to go back to sleep. You just wanted to stay up and talk to him for a little while. You knew that it would make you feel better but he also needed to sleep.

“You need it more than me,” You retorted. He shrugged and you sighed, “If you need to keep an eye on me, just lay in bed with me. It’ll be easier and you might be able to get some sleep.” You were blunt, exhaustion stabbing behind your eyes and your body was aching. You were so sick of the pretense.

“The couch is fine,” He quickly attempted to rebuke but you slipped off the edge of the bed and trudged over to him.

“Drop the gentleman shit. Just lie in bed with me,” You said, grabbing his wrist and gently tugging him towards it. He sighed but gave in and the two of you slipped under the covers. You lay on your side, careful to avoid putting too much pressure on the injured side of your head. Luke lay across from you, facing you. Your eyes fell closed, “What did he hit me with?” You asked after a moment of silence. Everything was a bit of a blur and you could only really remember the shadowy figure of the Unsub walking away.

“Baseball bat. Aluminum.” Your jaw dropped at his words and he nodded his head, “I took him down and he had it on him. I thought the blood was the vic’s but then I found you,” He explained. You could only imagine how Luke had felt at that moment. It was a baseball bat. And the Unsub had hit you pretty fucking hard. You weren’t sure how you were alive but you were glad that you were even if your head hurt.

“I tried to shoot him but I couldn’t reach my gun,” You admitted. He adjusted his position so he was a little closer to you.

“I got him. The vic is fine. We did our job,” He attempted to soothe you. You nodded but it didn’t make you feel all that much better. In fact, you just felt worse. You should have got him but it was fine. You closed your eyes, hoping that you could just fall asleep. But you couldn’t. You sighed and looked up at Luke.

“Can you hold me?” You asked after a beat. His eyebrows furrowed but he simply nodded, shuffling closer to you. He then pulled you against him and you buried your face against his chest. Your eyes fell closed and he slowly began to run his hands soothing along your back.

“We can talk in the morning, get some sleep,” He whispered softly. You nodded and you felt the tension release from your shoulders before you slipped into sleep.

#luke alvez x reader #luke alvez x you #luke alvez #criminal minds #luke alvez fluff #luke alvez fic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #reader-insert

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unreliablesnake · 1 year

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My place (Miguel O'Hara x reader)

Summary: Miguel has a thing for his neighbor.

Warnings: brief mention of masturbation (m), reader's wearing a dress.

Note: Y'all, I'm not gonna write smut at work.

After losing the family that had never really been his, Miguel promised himself to focus on work to fix things, to make things right after what he had done. But that wasn't the only thing he promised himself. He also decided to stay away from relationships, keeping up his walls so no one could get too close to him again.

But you…

You were hard to resist. You had moved into the apartment next to his about three months ago, always greeting him with a beaming smile when you met in the hallway. He often thought about letting you closer, inviting you over for coffee or dinner, maybe even making a move on you at one point.

There were times when he touched himself fantasizing about you, believing nothing bad could come out of thinking about you every once in a while, imagining what you would be like when he fucked you senseless. All the sweet sounds that would leave your lips, the whimpers, the moans, his name, all of them sounding like a perfect melody that filled the room. He had a feeling you would be very vocal during sex, and the thought drove him crazy.

“I think this is the point where I need to remind you that this is practically stalking,” Lyla told him one day when he was waiting for you near the building you worked in.

Miguel let out a sigh as he considered her warning. She was right. He had been following you around when he had the time a few times in the past week or so, but he always justified his actions by saying it was to protect you. Just to know you got home safe. It was the right thing to do as Spider-man, right?

“You should go back to the HQ,” the AI spoke up again. He let out an annoyed groan, one to which she replied with a roll of her eyes behind the sunglasses. “Or maybe try to talk to her this time. You know, like a normal human being would probably do.”

“I'll talk to her when the time is right,” he replied.

“And when will that be? You've been neglecting work lately. People are looking for you.”

Miguel looked down at Lyla, his mouth open as he was about to answer. But then he took his time, deciding not to lash out at the one person who was trying to help him. “I'm not neglecting work. If anything, I'm neglecting sleep,” was all he said.

His assistant didn't push the matter any further, but it made him think about what he was doing and he realized what a creep he had been. He should talk to you the next time you meet, telling you how he thought about asking you out, just as Lyla suggested, hoping you wouldn't turn your back on him halfway through his monologue.

To his surprise, though, he received a message while he was working at the HQ. It was from you. He had no idea how you found him, but seeing your number–that he already had from not-so-legal sources–made his heart rate jump. At first he didn't even want to read it, being afraid whatever it was would just avert his thoughts from more important matters for the rest of the night. But in the end it turned out not knowing why you wrote him was much worse, so he opened the message and began to read it.

You: Hi, it's your neighbor from 349. I got your number from the janitor who apparently had it for emergencies. Anyway, I know it's probably weird, but I was wondering if you'd like to join me tomorrow evening to watch a play. I got two tickets at work but have no one to go with.

He had to reread the message a few times to understand that you've just asked him out on a date. Or maybe you were just trying to be friends with him with no other intention. Why did this have to be so confusing? After cursing out loud in Spanish, happy that no one was around apart from Lyla to hear it, he began to think about how to reply. He had to be cool about this.

Miguel: Hey. It sounds nice, I'd gladly join you.

You: Cool. Meet me in the hallway at seven?

Miguel: Sure.

“You'll have to talk to her tomorrow, you know,” Lyla noted as if he hadn't known that.

The next evening couldn't come fast enough. He busied himself with work to make time pass faster, but you were always on his mind, the possibilities of how your encounter would end on repeat in his brain. If he played his cards right, he might have you where he really wished to see you–in his bed.

When he stepped out of his apartment two minutes before seven, you were already there, wearing a gorgeous black dress with high heels that were killing him. The moment you noticed him, your eyes began to shine and your lips curled into a sweet smile, making him wonder how you could be this cheerful all the time.

“You look absolutely stunning,” he said before he could stop himself, but you didn't seem to mind. “I can't say I wasn't surprised when I got your message, though.”

You nodded as you licked your lips nervously. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be weird, I just… I've been planning to chat with you for a while now anyway. Thought tonight could be the chance for that,” you explained.

“I'm glad you invited me. And you're not weird.” Miguel assured you with a smile. “I've been thinking about talking to you, too, I just wasn't sure you would be interested.”

“I am.”

You fell silent, but just when he was about to break the silence and ask you if you were ready to go, you launched forward and pulled his head down to kiss him. It was a messy, hungry kiss, and he was sure he would devour you if you weren't careful enough. But you didn't seem scared, not even when you felt his fangs tear into your bottom lip.

When he pulled away for a moment to breathe, admiring your puffy lips and the way you were looking up at him through your lashes, he realized that you didn't want to go anywhere. You had your finger hooked under his belt, and you were pulling him towards your door at a painfully slow pace.

“I don't know about you, but I'm not even that interested in that play,” you whispered quietly.

Miguel kissed you again, this time not holding back when he pushed your back against the wall. “My place,” he growled against your lips, and you were quick to nod in response. “Good girl.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #atsv

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mcbride · 21 days

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Daryl Dixon Rewatch S1E05 - Deux Amours

i know i am late on this one, but life is hard, so the delay absolutely has nothing to do with fandom shenanigans and/or Zabel's words, which i will also address later in this post cause i love to prove him wrong as i unmask his own bag of tricks. stay with me! lovely carylers of mine, if you're wallowing in negativity, that is your prerogative, but this post is not for you.

this ep starts with the song "j'ai deux amours" (i have two loves), which is mostly about multiculturalism in a way you embrace the differences and become stronger together. Daryl is not quite there yet... he does not believe in God or faith, he only relies on himself... more after the jump...

Daryl is trying so hard to teach Laurent everything he can to help him survive this world. he is right, the kid is too sheltered, it's a miracle he hasn't become walker food.

Taking a break from my rewatch to address the elephant in the room. Zabel's interview. first we don't have the context of the question he is answering because what it sounds to me like he is saying is that he ain't changing the Caryl narrative, he ain't taking the romance route out of nowhere, he is just simply keeping up with the characters and honoring who they already are, who they seems to want to be and how important they already became to each other.

No, caryl isn't gonna fall in love cause they reunited after being separated for couple of months, their relationship is much more than that. they ain't gonna kiss and bang cause that's easy. there's so much history there. they are already completely irrevocably in love with each other. it's clear, but you have to rely on what the show is giving you. it's right there in front of your eyes.

as for not playing the TV's book of tricks, i am gonna pretend the "happy ending " voiceover and the talk about pigeons always returning home for the one (a gf) who waits never happened. so let's focus only on this episode alone, and expose Zabel's own CARYL book of tricks:

Daryl misses "a lady named Carol," she's different from all the people mentioned before, she is special, cause she is a lady. i see what you did there, Z.

Laurent says Daryl misses Isa too. BANG. bait, bait, bait. Carol vs. Isa. IS THIS the typical trick to mislead and misdirect, causing doubt in the viewer... i may not like it, but there's nothing more stereotypical in that book of tricks, than Daryl having options (and there's plenty: Connie, Isa...), but only one woman (Carol) truly holds is heart.

in flashbacks, Daryl meets a young man TJ who is also working for fuel so he can go back to his girlfriend (not to his mother, or sister, or business associate!!). WHAT A COINCIDENCE Daryl also getting fuel so he can go back home (to Carol!) and guess what, TJ's also planning to runaway with his girl, but they are going to California instead of New Mexico.

Azlan tried to convince Daryl to embrace the people he met and their cause, but he be like "I MADE A PROMISE" and causes just ain't his thing.

Daryl can't sleep thinking about the last time he talked to Carol on the radio... which was like two weeks ago! stop being so dramatic!

finally, it is revealed Daryl promised Carol to come back home asap on the radio, but not after asking her THREE FUCKING TIMES if she was okay. dude, we get it, your Carol-sense was tingling with worry just cause she sounded contemplative. she's fine! but she misses you. HE PROMISED CAROL he'd be back!

the most cathartic scene comes next, (well played Norman Reedus!) Daryl is livid, furious, and downright abusive to Laurent after he cut off their boat, delaying his delivery to the Nest, and Daryl's hope of keeping his promise. it ain't pretty, but it's viscerally Daryl. he stops himself from going down that hole, and hugs the heck out of that kid.

Laurent has no doubt that as soon as Daryl finishes his mission, he will leave. no matter what.

when it's revealed TJ is now a walker and will never see the love of his life ever again (tragic plss!), that Daryl hero complex comes out - he did not help TJ and bad things happened - and he punches a dude. and now it's his turn to not make it back to his girl cause he ends up on a fucking boat to France. i see what you done there, too, Z.

it's the end of the ep and i didn't even sweat to make everything happening to Daryl about Carol.... sometimes things are exactly what they seem.

Daryl is captured again... that happens every other episode FFS!!

Genet's voice over Daryl facing dead as he's entering the arena and flashback to almost turning into walker fodder on the boat: "We have all felt lost at times, far from the life we knew. Deprived of the people we loved [....] But we did not give up. In the name of all those we loved." Daryl will fight for his life, and he will fight for Carol, in the name of the promise he made to return home. and that was beautiful...

and that's it! (my apologies if my thoughts got a bit messy, but my brain is total mush! i dunno if i explained it as well as i wanted to, but i tried!)

so, i kinda loved this episode, it was just a bit tooo long for me! PS. i am going to finish by saying something what most people don't want to hear/accept. Melissa is a grown ass woman capable of making her own decision. she straight fucking left the whole spinoff, no one forced her to do anything (who says otherwise is lying to you) so do not think for one moment she didn't come back on her own terms. with that said, whatever is meant to happen or not happen in terms of caryl, i sleep really well knowing it is exactly what they want to happen, both Norman AND MELISSA! and i would watch the platonic buddy adventures of Carol and Daryl for fucking forever! except that's not what i think is happening, and no, i ain't reading interviews (good or bad!), i'm just paying attention to what is being shown on screen. feel free to tl;dr me!!!

see y'all next week for ep 6!!! THE FINALE!!!

28 days left until the premiere of THE BOOK OF CAROL!!!!!

#dd rewatch #the walking dead #daryl dixon #norman reedus #carol peletier #caryl #twd #the book of carol #caryl positivity #hanna.txt

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gazsluckyhat · 18 days

Text

Sarah's House

Four - Hawaiian Pizza *TW*

Masterlist

Hi guys! This chapter is kinda dark, Suicide ideation is listed heavily towards this end, the story is kinda dark anyway, but just heads up. Take care of yourself.

Also, I'm not very nice in this chapter, sorry in advance.

also disregard any spelling errors, fell sick today and am writing this wrapped up like a Christmas gift.- Bunny

Price knew he shouldn't take the mission. The outcome seemed obvious, or so he thought. Until he wasn't anymore.

Like calls to like. Or something of the sort.

They all stand there, frozen. Eyes flying to Price, hoping he has the right words. But he doesn't. Who would? This isn't something you just explain calmly to someone, let alone a parent. Instead he motions to the hall, inviting him to follow. The boys stay back, a guarding presence as the girl sleeps. The sounds of machine beeps and call lights dull the conversation, doctors and nurses flooding by. Her father leans agaisnt a wall, focus on the captain. The captain whos struggling to find the words. So he decides not to explain. Keep him hidden from the awful bad things. Tell him the more simpler ones, if you can even call them that.

"You shouldn't have to be in this position." He looks at the older man. "This is awful and one of the worst things I've ever seen. Which is why I've decided not to tell you everything." He crosses his arms over his chest. Letting the older man process.

"What? I'm her father, you have to tell me so I can help her." He states, pushing off the wall. Price is putting his hands up, slightly pushing him back.

"Calm down, let me talk. Your daughter is one of the most strong willed and bravest soldiers I've ever met. There are grown men twice her size that wouldn't of survived what she has. Even through the worst of it she has fought, Sargent MacTavish in there, with those marks? Sarah gave them to him. Attacked him when we found her. She was starving and frail and still had that fight in her. Your girl is nothing short of a hero." There's tears in both their eyes. But Price notes the pride in her fathers, smiles a little at that. "But, she has seen the worst that humanity offers. I refuse to tell you because you do not deserve it. You deserve to see her as she is, you're beautiful and brilliant daughter. Physically you can see some of what they did. But a lot of it was mental. She refuses to touch any sort of water, offered her a shower and she was adamant on her 'no'. She doesn't trust any one. Took us some trouble to even let us help her. She's mute, but can speak. It takes a lot of effort on her part so I thinks its more of a 'can't' than a 'don't want to'. She's gonna require a lot of therapy and doctors appointments. It's gonna be the most stressful, scary, and angering thing you'll do." Her father is really crying now. Hands over his eyes and chest heaving.

"She's gonna hate you, hate the world even. You're gonna feel like you're ready to give up, can't do it anymore. But you have to. She can't be on her own right now. I believe she's still in shock, actually. The trauma that she went through is gonna play with her mind, cause her to think things that could never be more false. But you will be there. Hold her and tell her you love her, that she's okay and safe, yea'? She needs to have someone be that rock for her, because she's the ocean." Price hugged him after that, letting the man break into his shoulders. Price couldn't fathom being in his position. What he'd do if it was his daughter. He couldn't think about it. When he'd stepped back the man wiped his eyes.

"Thank you, I owe you my life. You don't know what this means to me. She's all I have left. My baby girl." He's looking at her door. Green eyes wide. Her green eyes, Price notes. "Have you done it before? Rehabilitated someone?" Price shakes his head.

"Not like that. I took care of my father, he was sick throughout my childhood. Struggled with his illness. Blamed everyone, learned how to help him. When he passed I enlisted." It was nothing. Just part of his life.

"She did too. Her mom and I divorced when she was a teenager. When she turned fifteen her mom found out she had cancer. I left soon after. She fought for years though, Sarah always by her side. Took her right after Sarah's twenty-first birthday. Always told her she'd make the best nurse." Then he's looking away again. Price can tell he's thinking about something. The whole thing was a lot to process. So much information to understand in a small amount of time.

"Would you take her?" It's asked in a solid manner. Price not expecting it at all. His back stiffening.

"What?" He must have misheard him.

"She seems to trust your team. Taken to them really. You have experience with something like this, you're a solider as well. I have no idea what I'm doing. I left when my ex-wife got sick. I know what kinda person it makes me, trust me I know. I think one of the reasons I left when I did was because I couldn't handle it. I'm not wired like she is. I love her so much it hurts but I don't think I'm the right person to help her and I refuse to put her in a facility. I'd even pay you on top of your reward." Price had forgotten about the money, decides he doesn't even want it anymore.

"You want me to take in your daughter?" The man nods.

"I understand what it sounds like. But we come from a small town in southern America, people talk. Everyone knows everyone as well, I'm afraid she won't be able to heal right, there, either. And I want her to heal and prosper. She deserves so much, and I don't think I can help her get there. It's breaking my heart. Knowing she's hurting like she is and I can't do anything." Price listens, the idea rolling in his head. The attachment clear between the team and the soldier. But would it turn into something else? Along the feelings of protectiveness and the need to help her was a nudging feeling of something else. Something she did not need right now. Wasn't even appropriate at all. But the longing, the need to touch her lips was slowly creeping in. Could he help her and push it down? The look her father was giving her pulled at his heart strings. He could and he would. Because if he didn't she would be lost. So he nods, agrees because what else is there to do?

"Keep the money." He says pushing the check away. Her father shakes his head. Insisting he take it. "Fine. But I'm not spending it. I'll open her a account and put it in there." The man smiles, more sure that his daughter will be well cared for.

"Then I'll put money in it every month she's here, use it for her care?" Price nods, knowing that if she stays she'll want for nothing. The boys are too adopting and pretty things catch their eye often. Telling her will be the hard part though, he decides when they go to open her door. Thankfully she's still sleeping, her tiny body curled around Johnny's arm, he too asleep.

Sarah wakes to the soft murmur of voices, her father is one. But the other two she has to open her eyes to see. Price and Gaz. Both talking with her father like they were old friends. Her chest warmed up a little bit, knowing that even though the world was ending her father could still laugh. Though she guesses he'd always been like that. Even when she was little, always found someone to talk to. About anything really. She'd been stuck in a store while he chatted about the rare blue car that was parked two cars away, and the owner just so happened to be there to chat. Or when he took her shopping for her first bra, her mom not feeling well, and he stood with another dad talking about the weather. Pink training bra in hand. Mortifying. But it's what she loved about him and she'd missed it she realized. Miss just listening to him speak. His presence. So she closes her eyes again and just listens. She doesn't know for how long, until she cant ignore the urge in her bladder at least.

"Good morning Rabbit." So used to the other accents her father's southern American drawl sounds funny. She smiles at him, though her brain is screaming. Hair on the back of her neck rising. She's not sure why, she's clearly safe. The soldiers who saved her, known only by nicknames, are in the corner. Well two of them anyway. She pushes herself up with her hands, the men standing up.

"Where you going? Everything okay?" It's the younger one, Gaz she believes his name is. He's reaching his hand out. She studies it for a second, listening to the voice in her head. It's screaming, loudly. This isn't real, it says. You'll wake up in a second and the others will be leaning over you, touching you like always. Her face falls, because it makes sense to her. The soldiers, her saviors, are all beautiful, even the masked one. And scientifically faces in dreams are morphed from people you know, the masked one could just be without a face. Right? They notice it immediately. Her eyes glazing over and the lost look falling onto her face. She steps back, away from them, closer to the bathroom. Her father stands, not sure what's going on.

"Cap?" Gaz calls lowly to the man behind him.

"Yea' I see it." Then he's right next to him. "Sarah, sweetheart, can you hear me?" She's slowly backing up, the bathroom door cracked open and seemingly inviting her in. Price moves closer, Gaz following suit, hoping to box her in and grab her before she loses it. It's gonna happen regardless of what they want. They're steps away when she darts around and into the bathroom, crying loudly. Slamming it shut they hear her lock it, exactly what they didn't want. Price is jiggingly the lock seeing if he can force it open.

"Can you pick it, Gaz?" The younger man on his knees looking at it.

"What just happened?" Her father is watching, confused as hell.

"Kinda normal for people with PTSD, flashback I'm assuming." Gaz spoke as he tried to separate the locks. "No dice Capin'." Thankfully Ghost and Johnny walk through the door with lunch at that moment. Eyes falling to the pair in a, well, quite a position. Gaz who's eye level with the Captains , um, nether regions tries to stand.

"Now 'on't tell me 've missed the fun?" Ghost smacks Johnny over the back of the head.

"Sarah is in here and the door is locked, one of you go get a doctor." Ghost sends Johnny a stare that says 'fix it' and Johnny is out the door in seconds. Lunch set on the small table, Ghost is walking towards them.

"What happened?" She was asleep when they left, hoping to surprise her with real food.

"Dunno. She woke up, stood up and seemed fine. Then just like that she was gone. Her eyes went all glassy." Ghost's seen it before. Seen it plenty actually.

"Flower? Hey, can ya' open the door? Wanna check on you." No reply. Nothing. The handle stays locked. "She's not gonna let us in. Not if she's lost somewhere in her head" Suddenly there's a flurry of people rushing into the room. Nurses and doctors, even a janitor. They're pushing the three men out of the way, trying to shut the door in their faces, which Ghost stops with a mud covered boot. The door is off it's hinges in minutes, then the sound of screaming echoes through the room. Before they can get to her she's being manhandled between two male nurses, who bully her onto the bed, pinning her wrist down while she screams and fights. Teeth gnashing at the faces. Ghost and Price are pushing their way forward, elbows connecting with noses. Price is smacking the man on the left, pulling him off of her and into Johnny's waiting arms, which drop him on accident. Johnny kicking him out the door immediately. Ghost was a different story, hands wrapping around the mans collar yanking him up to his height.

"Like bullying little girls, huh? I'll show you." And the smaller man is in the hall easily, Ghost not even breaking a sweat. The doctor is on them in seconds, threating to have them arrested. Price laughing in his face, expressing just how much that meant to him. (zero. It meant zero to him actually) The girl is losing it, Gaz and Johnny doing what they can to calm her, her father on the phone with someone in charge. It's not until she finds the dropped syringe and is holding it to her neck that anyone shuts up. She's shaking. Having moved into the corner away from everyone. Gaz on his knees talking to her, Johnny standing to her right. There's a vase behind her, she notices it, knocks it off and like a cat slowly drags a piece to her. Throwing the syringe at Johnny she takes the shard and replaces it agaisnt her throat. Eyes wild. Fear pumping through her veins, she tries to speak.

"N-n-n-o………Hu-ur-t." Then points her free pointer at herself. It's then that it settles in everyone's bones that she has truly been to hell and back. Because her she was, lost in the halls of her mind, willing to take her own life then suffer at their hands. To her, they're the enemy. They're already caused her imaginable amounts of pain. Her hand shakes. Full on shakes to the point the tip slices into her skin, the blood dribbling down her pale skin. Johnny is on the brink of falling apart, the scene to reminiscent of a friend long forgotten. The same fear he felt then bubbling back up, the air slowly leaving his throat. He's pushing past her father in seconds, collapsing in the hall as he tries to catch his breath. Price nodding towards the hall when Gaz looks at him. IT takes the younger man a minute to pull himself away.

"I'll be in the hall, alright, doll?" She doesn’t hear it, her mind envisioning the Russian soldiers once again. Its their hands she feels sliding up her back, coming down her shoulder and wrapping around her thighs. Their voices she hears whispering to her left.

"She's hallucinating, we need to sedate her and get her strapped in." It Ghost whirling around first, eyes hard as steel.

"The fuck 'ya will." The venom in his tone would put a rattler to shame. The hand on his shoulder isn't his Captains. It's her dad's. He's pressing him back, separating him from the doctor.

"My daughter is no longer under your care." The doctor starts to speak. "Shut the fuck up before I knock your false teeth down your throat." That shuts him up. "You will not touch my child, you will not sedate her, or strap her down. You will release her into the care of Captain John Price." The doctor is staring, mouth wide open. Ghost closes it, chuckling as he walks to Sarah.

Sarah whos slowly coming out of it, the sound of her father's voice a anchor in the distance. Then there's a presence in front of her. It's the masked angel. The one with the honey'd eyes. Ghost. She thinks. It fits him. He's in front of her now. Hands on her cheeks, and she's smiling. The shard slowly slipping from her hand. Ghost slaps it away, gently pinching her cheeks. She's still smiling.

"Flower? Hey, come back okay?" Her eyes are slowly focusing. "You're safe, love, your dad is here. We're gonna take you home, yea? Sound nice." She shakes her head slightly, eyes focusing ion him. Confusion and shame filling them instantly. "There she is." She's pulling herself into him, latching on him like a baby koala. Sobs wracking her body. She sits like that until her father appears beside her, and then she's crawling into his lap.

"You used to sit like this with me when you were little." He whispers it in her hair while rocking her back and forth. "On nights where you couldn't sleep and I'd still be awake. I'd hear your tiny feet run down the hall, cheeks wet with a nightmare, and crawl into my lap. Some rerun of Married With Children on the TV. You'd just lay there, eyes glued to the screen. Never moved a muscle. I've never told you this, but, those were my favorite moments. I'd stay up just so you'd come sit with me. You're the best thing I've ever done in my life, Sarah. Losing you was my biggest fear, but I've got you. You're safe now." He's pulling her back. Speaking to her clearer now. "I can't help you Sarah. Daddy can't help you in the way you need help. I'm gonna leave you with the Captain, okay?" She's shaking her head in disagreement, more tears running down her cheeks.

"It's alright, you're gonna be okay. He's gonna help you. I couldn't help your mother," His voice breaks. "And I can't help you. So I'm doing the best thing I can do for you." She nods, head agaisnt his chest, eyes catching Price's. Thanking him in her own way.

#call of duty #call of duty smut #call of duty imagine #john price #johnny soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #price #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #simon ghost riley #simon riley #this was mean of me and i'm sorry #psyc!#its only gonna get worse my mans

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mariaofdoranelle · 9 months

Text

Mistletinder

Masterlist

Merry Christmas/Yulemas, @writtenonreceipts! I hope this fic finds you well. I was so happy when I got you in the draw because I admire you so much, and I hope you have as much fun reading your gift as I had writing it ❤️

@rowaelinscourt thank you for organizing the secret Santa!

Warnings: moderate alcohol intake

Words: 4,7k

“This is gonna bite you in the ass someday, you know?” Sellene reproached from behind the steering wheel. Her friend couldn’t see what Aelin was doing on her phone, but somehow she knew.

“Shh!” Aelin looked behind her to check on the girls, but they were still sound asleep. At the age of four, if they listened to any curse word, it’d be forever until they stopped repeating it over and over again. At least, from what she was told, the Whitethorn family was used to small children and their demands. It was the whole reason why she was spending Yulemas with them, after all.

Aelin and Maisie were on their own now, and when Sellene all but dragged them to her family’s farm because of all the kids and animals, it was hard to argue. After the year from hell they had, a nice Yulemas was the least she could do for Maisie.

“You’re avoiding the subject,” Sellene insisted.

“Yes. Because I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“But you sure seem to want to keep doing it, huh?”

When you’re broke after your divorce and your business isn’t thriving, ain’t it funny what you’ll do?

On one drunken night amidst her separation, Aelin downloaded Tinder and scheduled a date on the bookstore café she owned. But when she freaked out and canceled right after the guy—Archer—arrived, she could only watch from her mezzanine office, amazed, as he stuffed his face with baked goods and left with two books.

After that, luring people from Tinder into Fireheart Books & Cafe was just a small part of her marketing plan. And the most unethical one.

“It’s a lucrative strategy,” Aelin said, feeling defensive.

“That you don’t need anymore.” Sellene rolled her eyes. “Didn’t you just butcher the anthropology section to fit more tables?”

Yes. For the same reason Aelin added sidewalk dining tables. “Your point is?”

“Did you at least give someone a try while you’re at it?”

Once. Just one person that made her actually enjoy the execution of her plan, even extending it so she’d talk to him more before ghosting. Conversation flowed, and Aelin had already gone on some dates at that point after her separation, but she wasn’t naïve enough to think she’d find love on Tinder.

“That app is a lost cause, Sel.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t find some good hot dates.” Her friend wiggled her eyebrows. “I know I did.”

Aelin managed to muffle her laughter with one hand so the two sleeping beauties on the back wouldn’t wake up. She brushed her daughter’s chestnut hair away from her face, watching the way she leaned on her friend during their nap. Maisie and Bree were thick as thieves in preschool and, as single moms, Aelin and Sellene would frequently help each other out.

Sellene has a hot date? Auntie Ae and Maisie will happily have Bree for a sleepover.

Aelin is busy at the book shop? Auntie Sel and Bree can drop Maisie there when school is over.

Sellene was godsend this year, and listening to her rant about her love life was just one of the fun perks of being so close to her. If the few dates Aelin went to this year actually happened, it was because her friend insisted.

“So, how’s that thing with Ilias again?” Aelin said, desperate to change the subject.

A groan. “You will not believe what he texted me this morning…”

Aelin let her friend go on about her situationship, a little relieved that she wasn’t the focus of the conversation anymore.

Truth was, she was a little anxious about this Yulemas. Sellene guaranteed that her family was too big for Aelin to intrude in something intimate, and the Whitethorns were properly notified about her stay, but that nagging feeling that her and Maisie were crashing the party wouldn’t go.

After they got to the farm, it was a while before they reached the house.

When Sellene told her about all the family traditions and how homey it was, Aelin expected an old farmhouse of sorts. To be honest, she didn’t think much about how the house would look, but she definitely wasn’t expecting a classic-looking manor with an exterior made of white stone.

A blonde woman showed up on the porch before Sel parked the car, then she ran inside and came back, tugging a man by the arm. By that time, they were already leaving the car with their bags, but the older couple still insisted on helping them.

Rory and Owen, her friend’s aunt and uncle, as they introduced themselves. Aelin’s introduction was brief, since Sellene filled her family in on who she was beforehand, but they still made small talk. Though she wasn’t paying much attention, too caught up on the similarity between Sellene and Owen. Her friend joked about some strong traits running in her family, but this was uncanny.

“Genetics, huh?” Sellene said, a teasing grin on her face.

Aelin was staring, wasn’t she? Oops. “Yes, genetics.” She turned to Owen. “I can’t believe you’re not even her father!”

Rory laughed and urged them inside. “Come on, darling, there’s a lot of silver hair and green eyes for you to compare.” She smirked before she added, “And if you happen to like it, my son is single. Thirty-one, stable job, goes to the gym a lot—“

“Auntie,” Sellene reproached.

The matron frowned. “I’m not being very smooth, am I?”

Her husband gave her two gentle taps on the shoulder. “You’re never smooth at matchmaking, darling.”

Rory gave Aelin an apologetic smile before continuing, “We’re stuck with some housework right now, but if you can wait—“

“I’ll show her around,” Sellene said, waving her aunt off.

“Alright, then. Pick any empty room you’d like.” Rory turned to Aelin. “You and your little one are the most welcome, make yourselves at home,” she said with a beam before scurrying away to the kitchen.

And about Aelin’s little one: where the hell was she?

Sellene leaned closer to Aelin and murmured, “But you can totally flirt with my cousins if you’d like. There’s a whole bunch of them for you to pick.”

“I don’t think I’ll have time for that, but thanks.” Not that she wants to, but it’ll become a hard no if she’ll have to wrangle Maisie all the time.

“I saw them coming inside.” Sellene tugged Aelin. “Don’t worry, she’s safe here.”

“Your house is not.” At least not with her four-year-old on the loose.

The two women dropped their bags by the entrance and ran around looking for them, calling their names. Aelin couldn’t register much other than white walls and wooden furniture, her mind filled with what could Maisie possibly break in this small time frame, and how much it costs.

Aelin’s worry was peaking when she listened to her daughter’s voice coming from another porch, this one attached to the living room.

"Do you do your tattoos alone, or does your mom help you too?"

The man blinked, confused, until Maisie showed him the few Barbie bubblegum tattoos on her forearm. She gave it a pointed look, then to the many tattoos he had on his left arm, taking most of the limb.

Aelin decided it was best to make herself known, introduce yourself, and see if this stranger needed rescuing from her curious preschooler. She couldn’t see this man’s face from her point-of-view, but she had an inkling of who he could be because of his—shocker—silver hair.

“Maisie!” She called from afar, “I was looking for—“

The words died in her throat when she recognized the man before her. Aelin’s core felt ice-cold all of a sudden, despite the dangerous pounding of her heart. There was no way in hell this was happening, and she blamed Tinder for not requiring users to use their last name there.

“Aelin.” He made a point of looking at his bare wrist, as if checking the time. “I think you’re a bit late for our date.”

˜˜

Upstairs, in the safety of her bedroom, Sellene had the gall to cackle.

Aelin glared at her. “Could you not?”

Before ten minutes ago, her friend was absolutely clueless to the fact that Aelin and Rowan knew each other, just like she had no clue that Sellene and Rowan are cousins. But it saved her, since the woman walked into that porch and spared Aelin from doing any talking.

“Alright, lemme just…” Sellene turned away, as if Aelin couldn’t see her friend’s shoulders shaking from behind. Then she took a deep breath and turned back around. “Alright.” A twitch on the corner of her lips that was quickly concealed. “But you said you liked him?”

“That’s not the point!” Aelin said, pacing in the empty space between the bed and the wall.

Chatting with Rowan was nice, and she may have indulged in conversation with him more than she usually lets herself, but Aelin felt so drained after her divorce. She let herself be dragged to dates sometimes, but she didn’t have it in herself to fully face the dating scene again.

Sellene rolled her eyes and threw herself on the bed. “That’s the key point, actually. It’ll define our entire course of action.”

“Nope. Our course of action is whatever protects Maisie from this mess.”

Aelin was so afraid of fucking up Maisie’s Yulemas when she got here, she didn’t realize she’d potentially fucked up even before arriving. Her throat felt thick just to think of it.

Sellene squeezed her hand. “He’s not gonna cause a scandal or anything, Rowan’s not like that.”

“He’s not going to tell your incredibly welcoming family that I’m actually a cold-hearted milf that stood him up and ghosted?”

“Okay,” Sel trailed, grimacing. “He’s not like that, but he is a bit of a gossip, so…”

Aelin sat on the edge of the bed and groaned, her face resting in both hands. Whether he had a big mouth or not, she needed to fix this. Because she couldn’t put Maisie’s Yulemas in jeopardy, yes, but also because Rowan deserves an apology.

Truth is, Aelin never felt tempted to give a chance to the guys she chatted with, because everyone she met on Tinder could be classified as one of: a chronic manwhore, overall gross, or gross for a single but relevant reason, or a misogynist bigot. And sometimes she even liked to leave them stranded, especially when they fell into the latter category.

Usually, Aelin just acted flirty enough to let the guy think something other than coffee would happen, that way he’d run to their ‘date’ without wasting more of their time.

But there were exceptions, of course, and Rowan was one of them. He wasn’t exactly chatty, but she still found herself texting him back and forth late at night for almost two weeks. When he oh-so-gently requested to meet her in person after dropping some hints about it here and there to no avail, she knew she had to cut this short.

It was just business, or so she told herself when it was time to cancel the plans that were never bound to happen. Aelin didn’t have space in her life for much else.

But now the girls, Rowan and a few other Whitethorns were off to see the baby goats and some other kid-friendly farm animals, which gave Aelin a small time frame to plan her next move.

Sellene got up from her bed, nothing but determination on her face. “Here’s what we’re gonna do: we’ll wait downstairs. When they come back, I’ll keep an eye on Maisie while you scurry him away to apologize.”

This was the lamest plan Aelin has ever gotten into. “I expected better scheming from you.”

“No scheming this time,” her friend warned, “just tell him the truth.”

And that was what Aelin kept in mind, as she waited with Sel in the kitchen under the disguise of chatting with Rory.

The kids barreled into the room a while later, chatting about the farm animals they saw, petted, or even fed. Rowan lingered on the other side of the kitchen, carefully avoiding Aelin’s eyes while he rectified the little one’s exaggerated stories with things like actually, no goat charged at them, they just wail all the time.

Despite the high excitement, Maisie’s attention drifted when she noticed the batch of gingerbread men coming off the oven.

“My grandma makes gingerbread people too,” she said to Rory, then frowned. “Do you know my grandma?”

Aelin’s heart squeezed at the sight. She was hoping to keep Maisie’s mind off her father’s family these holidays.

“I’m afraid not, honey. Is she from Doranelle too?”

“No, she lives very, very, very far. I need to get on a plane to see her.”

“That’s very far indeed.” Rory chuckled. “What’s she doing this year?”

Maisie shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t have Yulemas with Daddy this year because he’s stuck in prison.”

The room fell silent, all eyes on her little girl’s outcast expression as Aelin’s face grew impossibly hot. Gods, her daughter sure had a way with words.

“Because he’s a prison psychologist,” Aelin amended, to everyone’s relief, by the way their shoulders collectively relaxed.

Chaol wasn’t seeing his daughter these holidays because he was too busy in the Southern Continent with his girlfriend—former mistress—but there was no way Aelin was telling her little girl that. Work was the go-to excuse to why he missed so many bi-monthly visitations, and it worked for Yulemas too.

One day, Maisie would understand that Aelin has been a single mom since long before her divorce. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t try to postpone said realization for as long as she could.

“Oh, how silly of me! I forgot to get rosemary.” Rory changed the subject when silence reigned, thank Mala. The time when Chaol was a touchy subject was long gone, but people still tiptoed around it with her.

The woman continued, “Aelin, darling, could you get me some, please?”

“Sure…” she trailed, looking around. “Where can I—“

“Rowan will show you the garden,” Rory quipped.

And Aelin thought that getting him alone for a moment would be tricky. Clearly, she underestimated his mother.

Rowan glared at the older woman, but she didn’t waver. Instead, the more that odd exchange lasted, the more Rory seemed to enjoy forcing her son to spend time with someone he clearly didn’t want around.

Fuck, Aelin needed to fix this immediately.

He gestured to the open back door in the kitchen, and led her to a kitchen garden close to the house.

Sunshine glanced off the leaves which vegetables, herbs and fruit grew, and Aelin wished she could enjoy its beauty more. The smell of fresh herbs and sound of the leaves shuddering were the only soothing things, given the conversation she had ahead.

She waited for him to make a start, to no avail. Perhaps he did, earlier today when she first saw him, right before Sellene walked in and they pretended that first exchange didn’t happen.

“I’m sorry.”

Rowan’s step faltered for a second. He gave her a curt nod, and continued his stroll towards the rosemary shrubs.

She continued, “I shouldn’t have stood you up, it was really shitty of me and I totally deserve it if you hate me right now.” A pause. “But I was hoping we could put this aside for Yulemas, you know? Being in the same house and all.”

“Alright,” he said while slowly nodding, and Aelin’s shoulders loosened up with relief for a moment, until he finally looked her in the eye and added, “I'll go easy on you if you tell me what happened.”

“I told you, I’ve been having a hard time dating after my—“

“Yeah, you told me that in your apology text, but I feel like there’s something missing.”

He got her there. It was true, but not the ugly truth.

“Remember the shop I asked you to meet me at?”

He nodded.

“I own it. And my Tinder account is strictly for… cash inflow.”

This time, he fully stopped. He studied Aelin with widened eyes, and after judging the seriousness in her expression, he laughed. It was loud and full, overpowering the gentle flutter of the leaves and birds’ wings around them.

He kneeled by the shrub, snapped a few branches with his fingers, and it was just then that Aelin realized they had already arrived at their destination.

“You’re not mad?”

Rowan shrugged, and she wanted to read his expression so bad, but he had his back to her, still working on his mother’s rosemary. “I guess should be mad. I’m definitely impressed. It’s a very clever move.”

Aelin didn’t know if she should thank him or not. “But are we cool?”

He chuckled, something more amicable in his eyes this time, when he turned around. “Yes, sure. It was just online dating. Do you know how often people get ghosted? I wasn’t gonna start a riot because of that.”

“‘Kay, thanks.” He was being such a nice sport, his forgiveness only worsened the guilt she felt. “And though you’re right about that, I’d be totally mad and petty if someone stood me up. Just saying.”

“I wasn’t mad that you stood me up—“

Aelin sent him a cut-the-bullshit look.

He sighed and continued, “Alright, I was upset. Not mad. What actually made me mad is that you ghosted me after that.”

She stopped mid-stride, her head tilted. This made absolutely no sense. Rowan broke eye contact to rearrange the branches inside the small bag, making his fingers busy for a small moment of awkward silence that lasted a lifetime in Aelin’s head.

“I liked you, Aelin. You didn’t have to do that for me to visit your coffee shop.”

Aelin didn’t want to think about why his words stung, but they did.

˜˜

Engaging in conversation at dinner would be a lot easier if Maisie was eating, not showing Bree magic tricks.

She placed a french fry on the table, between her and her friend. “Now close your eyes,” Maisie commanded. When her friend complied, she shoved the fry in her mouth and said, “Ta-da!”

Bree opened her eyes, and the loud gasp she let out after noticing the fry was gone gave Aelin a good chuckle.

“Do it again!” Sellene’s daughter said, clapping her hands.

“Maybe you could do it with the cucumber this time?” Aelin cut in.

Maisie turned to her mother with all seriousness a four-year-old can muster. “Mommy, it’s Friday. We only eat fries.”

Being the little entertainer she is, the people near Maisie laughed, not for the first time this dinner. Including Rowan, who sat next to Sellene, almost in front of her. It was weird, hearing his laughter instead of reading a “haha”. A good weird. Still weird. For Mala’s sake, she needs to sort her feelings out.

“You are such a silly goose,” her friend said, fondness filling her eyes.

“No, Auntie Sel, you are a silly goose. I’m a silly gosling.” The little girl took her time pronouncing each syllable of the last word, careful to get it right.

Aelin’s mouth was ajar as she stared at her. “Where did you learn that?”

“Wowan.” Maisie said, beaming. “We’re bestest friends now because he’s an animal doctor, and he promised to show me all his animal friends so I can be friends with them too.”

“Is that so?” Aelin plastered on a smile, hoping it wasn’t too strained. It didn’t go unnoticed that he was nice enough to Maisie for her to consider him her new ‘bestest friend’, even before Aelin apologized. Fuck, she needed to unpack this later.

When she dared a glance at Rowan, he looked a little stiff, but still gave her a quick, close-lipped smile. “She likes the baby goats.”

Aelin would know. Maisie talked about them all day.

“Wowan, I’ll do a magic trick.”

He turned his full attention towards Maisie.

She continued, “Did you see me do it before?”

“Yes.”

“Try to forget.”

“I can’t do it, Maisie, I saw you do that trick too many times.” He leaned back on his chair, a lazy smirk on. “But I haven’t seen you make the cucumber disappear.”

She jolted on her seat, put a cucumber slice on the table, pointed a finger at Rowan and yelled, “Close your eyes!”

When he complied, Maisie ate that cucumber with a ferocity Aelin had never seen before.

“Dear Mala,” Rowan said when he opened his eyes, feigning shock. “Do it again.”

And that’s how he convinced her to eat every single vegetable on her plate. Fuck, he sure knows how to woo a single mom.

Not woo, Aelin chastised herself. Rowan said he liked her. In the past tense. Which should be a relief, but this wasn’t how she felt as she watched him smile at her daughter and make her have fun while eating healthy.

Rowan stole a glance at her, but Aelin had her eyes on him already. He swallowed, likely unsure of what to do after being caught staring while she was already staring.

Thank you, she mouthed so Maisie wouldn’t hear. To her surprise, his eyes softened, and he gave her a small smile.

Relief finally washed over her, when Aelin realized that the awkwardness in his expression had vanished.

˜˜

As predicted, Maisie was so hyper Aelin didn’t manage to properly enjoy the farm herself. But she didn’t mind it, since her daughter was the whole purpose of this trip. Besides, sometimes watching the kids play could be better than TV.

“I wanted to go out to eat with you, not you and your baby!” Maisie’s arms flailed around as she tried to explain her frustration.

Bree clutched her doll to her chest, a wounded look on her face. “But I can’t leave my baby alone!”

Rowan, who was just passing by the living room, froze when he registered what was going on. He turned to Aelin, confusion written all over his face, and discreetly sat by her side on the couch.

“Everything alright?”

Aelin pointed at the tea party toy set near the girls. “They’re at a pretend restaurant, eating pretend food and talking about their pretend jobs.” A pause so she wouldn’t start laughing here and there. “Maisie was expecting a girls’ night, but Bree brought her baby with her.”

“Oh, I see.” Aelin’s gaze swept over him for a minute, and it was unfair how good his pine-green eyes looked when they were filled with amusement like this. “Whose side are you on?”

“I’m getting popcorn. You?”

“I don’t know,” he murmured, “I think this is a very complex issue. We can’t read it under a Manichaean view.”

Aelin chuckled, and they fell into comfortable silence while watching the girls. Rowan’s pine scent hit her senses, but it was the chilly wind coming from the window that made her shiver.

“You cold?”

She shrugged. “Not that much.”

Rowan stood up. “I’ll warm us up.”

“You’re getting a blanket?”

“Better,” Rowan said, a troublesome glint in his eyes. “Wine.”

Not as effective as a blanket, but definitely more fun.

“Merlot?” He suggested with his head tilted.

Unbelievable. Aelin briefly mentioned her favorite type of wine to this man over text in a late night conversation, and he still remembered it weeks later.

Rowan seemed to misread her silence, his expression becoming guarded. “But I can share the bottle with Enda if you don’t feel like it.”

Aelin’s gaze quickly turned to her daughter before she focused back on him. “Can it wait until after Maisie’s bedtime?”

Rowan took a step back with a grin on, and his eyes wouldn’t leave Aelin. “I’ll get the snacks ready.”

After wrangling Maisie around the house a little more and putting her to bed, Aelin found herself in the same living room as before. However, this time, the tea party set on the table was replaced by a small charcuterie board and two glasses of red wine.

They talked about their lives for hours. Now it was nearing midnight, and none of them seemed to grow tired of each other’s companies. It was just easy like that with him, and she knew it. Too easy, was what Aelin told herself in her office as she let him down. Too easy to be true, and not the delusion of a lonely twenty-nine-year-old divorcée.

Aelin had so many reasons why she couldn’t give Rowan a real chance, but she couldn’t remember a single one of them right now. Actually, she could remember, they just felt… small.

Too bad she was too late.

“And you never thought to move back here? Being a vet and all?”

Rowan sipped his wine. “I’ve lived in the city since I was a teenager, my whole life’s there. But I visit a lot.”

“And your cousins?”

“Not as much, but Yulemas is always here.” He cocked his head, his expression shifting as he grinned at her. “Though the company is usually much less good-looking.”

Aelin blinked. She stared at the glass of wine. It was her second, and Aelin knew her limits. She wasn’t even tipsy. It couldn’t be.

“Rowan Whitethorn… are you flirting with me?”

“Yes, I’ve been trying for a while.” A pause. “Is it working?”

Wow. She looked around, mind racing and empty at the same time. A turned-off TV. Potted plants with fairy lights on. A mistletoe. Gifts under a tree.

Rowan was flirting with her.

Rowan, Maisie’s new “bestest friend”. Kind, attentive Rowan who remembered her favorite wine and looked as delicious as the Focaccia bread he stole from the kitchen for her.

Rowan, who seemed to give her a second chance even when she didn’t deserve it.

“It’s working, yeah.”

He didn’t dare say a word after her response, and neither did she. He leaned forward, barely blinking as he tried to meet her eye.

Aelin needed to say something. She wanted to say something else, but it was hard to do it while she felt her old resolutions shatter like a wall of glass.

Going on shitty date after shitty date so she could find someone reasonably good, until something happened and she had to go back to the stream of shitty dates? No, meeting new people was a hard no for now.

But it was different when she had already met someone, right? Aelin wasn’t ready to give dating a chance, but she was more than willing to give Rowan a chance.

She got up and tugged Rowan’s hand.

“What?”

Aelin tugged on it again, so he got up from the couch too. Wordlessly, she led him to a spot right under the beam that divided the living room and the hallway.

She pointed at the mistletoe above them. “Oh, look.”

“Wow.”

“I definitely didn’t see that and drag you here.”

“And my mother definitely didn’t fill the house with mistletoes tonight because she’s in love with you and Maisie.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” she lied.

“So surprising.”

“Shocking.”

“Can I kiss you now?”

“Absolu—”

Rowan pulled their lips together, cupping her face with both hands while she wrapped her arms around him. Their lips brushed together, and it was almost unfair how soft he felt. He gently nipped hers so Aelin would open up to him, and the kiss was sweet and hungry at the same time. His hands traveled down her neck and arms, making her shiver, until he reached her waist and tugged her closer.

Well, fuck. If Aelin didn’t have any doubts about giving this a chance anymore, she didn’t know what to call it now. A negative amount of doubts? Anyway, her mind was jello. Aelin couldn’t know where this was going, but she knew she’d let it happen now. No more holding back.

Rowan broke the kiss and put their foreheads together, breathlessly breathing her in with closed eyes.

“If I ask you out on another date, will you show up this time?”

“Yes,” Aelin said, right before her parted lips morphed into a teasing smirk. “And I might even delete Tinder, depending on how large your coffee order is.”

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#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #throne of glass #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan x aelin #aelin ashryver galathynius #aelin x rowan #rowaelin fanfic #throne of glass fanfic #oneshot

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 1 year

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Steve Harrington's Mother's Day Surprise

Warning: mentions of unprotected sex. Wrap it before you tap it. Male carriers. Mature talk. It's very long.

Summary: Sex, lies, unplanned pregnancy, and found family.

18+ MINORS DNI

Steve Harrington found out he was pregnant on Mother's Day. Yep, pregnant. Steve Harrington was pregnant. He wanted so badly to blame his parents. Okay, that sounds wrong, but it's not what you think. They should have warned him this could happen. They knew what he was, and they hadn't told him. Steve Harrington was a male carrier. It was supposed to be a myth, a story to tell your queer kids not to sleep with men. Apparently, it was real, and the story hadn't stopped Steve from getting railed by a man.

"What's the bathroom emergency?" Robin asked, stumbling into his bathroom, breathlessly, and plopped down on the floor in front of him.

"I'm pregnant," Steve said.

"Seriously! That's what you called me over for? A joke? You know, I was about to invite Vickie over and then you - " Robin started, and Steve slapped a hand over her mouth.

"I'm a male carrier, a fact my parents neglected to tell me," Steve said. "I'm pregnant, Robin."

He removed his hand from her mouth, and it dropped open.

"You're a male carrier. . .you're pregnant. . .but that means you had sex. . .with a man!" Robin exclaimed. "When? Where? Who? What?!"

"It was spring break, I went to deliver Eddie some food. He was ranting and freaking out about going to jail, and then he went on about how he didn't want his first time to be in jail. He did NOT want to be somebody's bitch. Guy or girl, it didn't matter to him. If he was going to go out, he was going out with a bang. He did NOT expect me to offer myself up on a platter, but you know that I know about me. I just haven't had sex with a guy, and Eddie was pretty. The next thing I know he was fucking me against the wall of the boathouse and I loved it. Now, he's in a coma, and I don't know what to do, Robin," Steve rambled on.

"Wow, I think I rubbed off on you. That was a Robin sized ramble. Hey, dingus, breathe with me. Okay, I want you to focus on my breathing and then yours. Steve, do you want to keep this baby?" Robin asked.

"More than anything," Steve sniffled softly.

"Well, you know, just because Eddie's in a coma right now doesn't mean that you're alone, alright, because you have a huge support system who's willing to help you. So, don't think you have to do this alone, okay?" Robin said.

"Okay."

"Hey, Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"You're going to be a mom."

"I'm a man, and I'm going to be a mom!"

"And a damn good one. Happy Mother's Day, Steve. . . Wait. Did you have you unprotected sex with a guy?!"

"There weren't any condoms! Eddie was a virgin and I just got tested! OW! You're aren't supposed to hit expectant mothers, Robin!"

"Dangerous!"

It was still a little early to be telling everyone about the pregnancy, but they did tell Joyce, Hop, and Wayne. Robin managed to keep him from rambling out all the details, but he managed to tell them the basics. He had invited the Byers and Wayne to stay with him until they found a place of their own. The house was Steve's now, so he could do what he wanted and he loved having everyone there.

"Oh, I just can't believe your parents never told you," Joyce said furiously.

"Well, they never thought I would end up sleeping with a guy so it was easier for them to pretend like I wasn't weird," Steve said.

"You're not weird, honey," Joyce said.

"Not weird for that anyways," Robin snorted and Steve laughed, nudging her.

"Like you're one to talk," Steve said.

"I am the weirdest!" Robin said proudly and Joyce laughed.

"You said you're about 7 weeks or so, right?" Wayne asked.

"Yeah."

"That's right around spring break, isn't it?" Wayne asked and Steve nodded. "Eddie's the father?"

"Yes," Steve said, looking down at his feet and Wayne went quiet for a moment.

"You know, Eddie always wanted to be a father," Wayne said.

"He does?" Steve asked, looking up.

"Yeah, but he said that it was probably never going to happen for him," Wayne said. "I'm glad he was proven wrong. I'm here for you, son."

"Yes, Steve, so are we," Joyce said.

"Whatever you need, kid, just ask us," Hop said.

"I told you they'd support you," Robin said in a sing song voice.

"Yeah. I believed you."

"Mmm, I don't think you did."

Steve was now in his second trimester and he was glad that the morning sickness seemed to have stopped. He was starting to show now so he had to start wearing baggy sweaters to hide it from the kids. He still hadn't told them yet. He was far along now that he could tell them but he wasn't ready yet. Steve wanted Eddie to wake up. He was sitting by Eddie's bedside, knitting a pair of socks for the baby.

"I don't think those will fit me," a voice croaked.

Steve looked up to find Eddie looking at him and he dropped the socks, jumping to Eddie's side.

"You're awake!" Steve exclaimed and burst into tears.

"I did not expect that reaction," Eddie said. "Are you happy or disappointed?"

Steve leaned down and pressed a hard kiss to his lips.

"Okay, happy it is," Eddie said.

"I'm going to call Wayne," Steve cried and kissed him again before running out the door.

They were all so happy that he was alive they were all talking at once, and the explanation sort of got jumbled. Eddie was wake, Vecna was defeated, and Max was okay. She just needed glasses. Also, he would be living with Steve and the Hopper-Byers. He would be living with the same guy who used to arrest him and buy weed from him. He wasn't sure how to feel about that, but apparently, he was also the guy who got his name cleared, so he was grateful.

"No one said but how long was I in coma for?" Eddie asked sitting on Steve’s bed.

They had gotten Eddie all settled in Steve’s room but they didn't stay long, pushing everyone out of the room which was odd. Wayne and Hop had to grab Dustin by each arm to drag him out.

"Sirs, you are manhandling a child!" Dustin had yelled.

"13 weeks," Steve replied.

"That's specific," Eddie said and Steve blushed. "So. . .I guess you kissing me meant that you don't want what happened in the boathouse to be just a one time thing?"

"No, I don't," Steve said. "Do you?"

"Nope! Come here," Eddie said and made grabby hands at him.

Steve stood in between his legs as Eddie placed his hands on his hips. Eddie gazed at him with a smile on his face.

"What?"

"You're so beautiful, you know that?" Eddie asked and pulled him into his lap.

He kissed him and Steve smiled against his lips, pressing his lips eagerly against Eddie's. They were exploring each other's mouths when Eddie's fingers started to slip under his sweater. Steve broke the kiss and stopped his hand from going further.

"There's something that I need to tell you before we go any further," Steve said.

"Okay?"

"I'm a male carrier and I didn't know that when we had sex. My parents didn't tell me," Steve said quickly.

"Uh, are you saying - are you - you're - am I going to be a daddy?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah, you are!" Steve exclaimed. "And I'm going to be a mommy!"

Eddie laughed and kissed him hard. As they were kissing, they didn't hear the thundering of footsteps and so when the door burst open, they both screamed.

"You guys are going to have a baby!" Dustin exclaimed with a grin.

"Wait, how did you - El," Steve said with realization.

She had the decency to at least look guilty. Wayne appeared huffing behind them.

"Steve, how the hell do you manage to wrangle all these cattle?" Wayne asked.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Dustin asked.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because I wanted the father of my child to know before you guys did," Steve said.

"That makes sense," he said.

"Does it? Does it make sense?" Steve asked.

"Wow, bitchy Steve comes out to play," Dustin said, still smiling.

"Well, I am being bitchy for two now," Steve replied.

"Everyone out!" Wayne yelled.

"I got this, Wayne," Hop said, pulling out a water bottle and started spraying them with it. "Give them some goddamn privacy!"

They started screaming and leaving the room.

"They're not cats, Hop!" Joyce exclaimed with a laugh.

"It's working, isn't it?" Hop asked.

"We're happy for you!" Dustin exclaimed as they left and Hop sprayed him. "Goddamnit, we're leaving!"

"I love our family," Eddie said as he laughed.

ABOUT NINE MONTHS LATER. . .

"I'm really sorry I bit you," Steve sniffled.

"You were in a lot of pain, sweetheart, I don't blame you," Eddie cooed softly. "Besides, I'll tattoo the bite mark as a reminder of what occurred here."

"Our daughter's not a good enough reminder?" Steve asked.

"Please, don't bite me again," Eddie pleaded, and Steve kissed him. "You did so good, baby. Look at her."

Eddie's eyes filled up with tears, and his lip started trembling as he gazed down at his daughter. They were back at home now, Winnifred Robin Munson was tucked safely in her bassinet and fast asleep.

"If you start crying, I'm gonna cry, and I'm so tired of crying," Steve said.

"I just want to look at her forever," Eddie said.

"Guys, you should be sleeping," Joyce said softly. "We'll wake you when she needs you."

"I miss her," Steve said as he walked down the hallway.

"Me too."

"No, I miss her being inside of me," Steve said. "Let's make another one."

"Okay!"

"No! If I hear you guys fooling around in there, I'll come in there and hose you down," Hop whisper yelled. "Sleep."

"Kinky, Chief," Eddie grinned. "Nana and Bunny are bossy."

"She is not calling me Bunny," Hop hissed at him.

A FEW MONTHS LATER. . .

Steve woke up and noticed that he had slept in for once. Just then, the door to his bedroom opened, and in came Eddie with a tray of food.

"Happy Mother's Day, Stevie!" Eddie grinned brightly.

Steve yawned, sat up, and rubbed his eyes.

"The house is oddly quiet. Where is everyone?" Steve asked.

"Winnie is with her Bunny and Grandpa Wayne. Jonathan, Will, and El took Nana Joyce out to breakfast," Eddie said.

"So, we have the house to ourselves? We could do whatever we wanted to as loudly as we wanted to?" Steve asked.

"It's your day. It's whatever you want to do," Eddie said.

"What if I want to do you?" Steve asked.

"I wouldn't say no to that," Eddie smiled.

Steve kissed him, smiling against his lips.

"But first, we eat," Steve said. "I am eating for two after all."

"What?"

"I'm pregnant, Eddie," Steve told him.

"Oh my, you little slut," Eddie cackled.

"Says the guy who knocked me up," he replied.

"I didn't say I wasn't a slut myself, especially for you," Eddie replied.

"Are you happy?"

"Eh, I can't complain," Eddie said and Steve slapped his chest. "I'm very happy, baby. Are you?"

"Extremely."

"Oh, by the way, Gareth says him and the guys have a surprise for Winnie. He wants to come by next weekend," Eddie said as he fed Steve a bite of food.

"You already know what the surprise is, don't you?" Steve asked.

"Of course! They created a baby one-shot adventure for our princess with giant foam dice and everything! They even had a onesie made for her! I mean, we're probably going to have to do the work for her, and it's probably going to mostly just them telling her a story, but still. . . cutest thing ever!" Eddie exclaimed.

Steve watched his lover ramble on, moving his arms about as he did so. Yeah, Steve Harrington was very happy.

#stranger things #eddie munson #joseph quinn #stranger things s4 #eddie stranger things #eddie munson lives #steve harrington #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfiction #pregnant steve harrington #rueleigh writes

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moodymelanist · 9 months

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I Guess It's Half Timing (And The Other Half's Luck) — Epilogue

I can’t believe this story has finally come to a close!! Thank you so much to everyone who followed along with me on this fic, I had so much fun writing it and trying my hand at slow burn for the first time 🩷

Also, a very big and special shoutout to the GC for motivating me every month to write this and helping me come up with fun little ideas to sneak in. Y’all kept me going and I couldn’t have done it without you!!

I hope this ties up everything nicely!!! until next time and happy 2024 everyone :’)

✷✷✷✷✷

Cassian

Cassian had been enjoying his dream when he was abruptly yanked into consciousness by the sound of his daughter screaming her head off in excitement.

“Mommy! Daddy!” Sera yelled at the top of her lungs, her little feet just narrowly missing crushing Cassian’s hand as she jumped up and down on the bed. How she’d managed to even climb up without shaking him awake was beyond him, but she’d certainly accomplished her goal now. “Wake up! It’s Christmas!”

“Jesus Christ, what time is it,” Nesta muttered under her breath. She looked adorably grumpy as always, and Cassian fought the urge to tug where her hair pulled into two loose braids for sleep like he was the little kid here. “Okay, okay, Sera. We’re up, I promise, just give us a second.”

“Too goddamn early,” Cassian mumbled right back. He was usually an early riser, but he’d been pulling a lot of long nights leading up to the actual holiday. Sue him for wanting to sleep in a little later than six thirty in the morning. “Sera, mijita, calm down a little, okay?”

Sera had just turned four last month, so they were much more concerned about making an effort for the holidays these days now that the chances of her remembering it were so much higher. She’d been talking about Santa and wondering aloud about her presents for weeks now, and if Cassian hadn’t been so worried about making the day good for her, he would’ve been able to focus on just how adorable she was.

Keep reading on AO3 here!

#acotar #acosf #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #Cassian acotar #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron x cassian #pro Nessian #pro nesta archeron #pro Cassian #pro Cassian acotar #moodymelanistwrites

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copiousloverofcopia · 7 months

Text

THE TIME HAS FINALLY COME!😭

This is the definite LAST CHAPTER of HOLY MARY!

I got so emotional, so many times while writing this chapter and because of the content I apologize but I need to risk some spoilers for the sake of those who might be triggered so…

⚠️TRIGGER WARNING FOR DESCRIPTIONS OF BIRTH, GORE, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, INFANT DEATH/LOSS, GRIEF⚠️

Thank you so much for coming on this journey with me, Terzo, and Mary. I can't believe that this all stemmed from an ask on Tumblr that flourished into this full-fledged fic. Thank you so much to the anon that requested this. It was an honor to write it and thank you all so much for reading!

Commissions are OPEN, please see pinned post for Carrd info!

Beautiful divider credit to @gothdaddyissues

Holy Mary

Sister Mary Catherine was only weeks away from taking her vows when she has a chance encounter with a man. A man she finds out is the Pope of the Satanic church.

Chapter 10: The Ultimate Sacrifice

Also available HERE on AO3! Haven’t started yet? Read from the beginning HERE!

Definitely NSFW below!

“Please.” Secondo begged, staring into his little brother’s eyes.

“I don’t want to do this Secondo. Understand that I…I have to….”

1 Hour Earlier…

Lucifer seemed to leave as quickly as “she” came. Terzo was left alone in his thoughts, pondering the horrors that were to come. The blood shed that would be on his hands. Dripping from them in the wake of his decision. Cursed by his own dark god to choose between Mary, his child, and that of his own brother.

The world all together seemed to stop. The sounds of the wind rustling in the trees and birds chirping ceasing around him. Leaving him frozen in the eerie silence. Nothingness—emptiness. Terzo was perched on his knees in a haze when from somewhere in front of him came a voice. Coming closer and closer while the words came into focus.

“Terzo…please come back inside. Let’s talk.” Secondo suggested, wanting to find a way to make things right between them. Settle this rivalry that he had, himself, set in motion.

“Please go.” Terzo snapped, refusing to look at him. Though Secondo would not give up that easily. Never in his life had he felt such remorse. Everyone knew all too well that it was not in his nature to apologize. Growing up as the middle Emeritus son, he was never allowed to be wrong or admit defeat in anything—lest he be held as less than.

All things for him came as a task, one he must meet head on and without hesitance. Always striving to be better than Primo before him and Terzo who followed. Needing to prevail in all things as Nihil’s supposed favorite. Perceived as the most devout of all—only inside he was still a scared, lonely child. Worried that no matter how hard he would try, nothing would ever be enough.

The feeling of inadequacy had been festering inside him so long, though he would never admit it. The constant fear led him further into a path of self-destruction. A path that now had led to the betrayal of his little brother. Lusting for Mary’s love—something he had no right to take from him.

“For what it’s worth, fratello, I know I was wrong…and I’m sorry.” Secondo admitted. His words, eliciting a look of shock from Terzo, though he still refused to look him in the eye. Terzo could tell he was being sincere. The fact that the mere words came from his brother’s own two lips told Terzo it was the truth.

“I know.” was all Terzo could say back to him. His anger, still simmering inside of him as he tried to let it go. There were so much more important things to be concerned with now and whether Secondo knew it or not—Terzo held his life in his hands.

“When you are ready, I hope you both can forgive me.” Secondo told him, his brother nodding as he was left once again alone in the garden. Still on his knees, agonizing over what was to come.

Mary was sleeping soundly, her face almost peaceful as a child's. Primo, keeping careful watch over her and checking in occasionally with the help of the Abbey physician. Reassuring himself that she and the baby were still doing alright. Just as he sat back down in the chair, opposite her in the room, there was a knock on the door. The young newly ghoulettes, Cirrus and Cumulus had arrived with Omega as their charge. Standing in the doorway, excitedly awaiting news of Mary's recovery.

“Please come in Omega, dolcezze.” Primo smiled. The ghoul and ghoulettes bowed as they all carefully walked into the room. Doing their best to not disturb Mary.

“How is she Papa? Is the baby coming?” Cumulus asked, looking at Mary with such concern and care in her glowing eyes. Her devotion towards Mary and her child, touching Primo’s soul.

“Not yet…eh…we must still wait and see. There is not much else we can do at this time. At least that is what they are telling me.” he sighed. Relaxing back into the chair as he old joints hummed with arthritic pain from all his standing.

“Where is the doctor? The nurses?” Omega asked, noting that when he and the ghoulettes arrived at the infirmary there was no one else to be seen. The halls and rooms, appearing empty and silent.

“I believe they had gone into town for some more supplies. With all the wounds, we are quickly running low on bandages and gauze.” Primo explained, his thin smile only barely hiding his concern.

“Primo?” came a soft voice. It was Mary, slowly coming to from her unconscious state. Her eyes, fluttering open to see the four of them all surrounding her. All of them, smiles spreading fast as she tried to pull herself up a bit in the bed.

“Mary, please don’t try to move too much.” Primo told her, rising up as fast as his body would allow. Helping Omega settle her into a comfortable position in the bed.

“Where is Terzo?” she asked, still a bit hazy from her slumber. Feeling achy all over with her head feeling an intense throb.

“He’ll be back soon.” Primo assured her, taking her hand in his and sitting beside her on the edge of the bed.

“He needed to get some fresh air, pretty sure he headed out to the garden.” Omega continued. Mary stared down at her belly. Watching as the little life inside her moved beneath her tightly stretched skin. His kicking, stronger than she had ever felt it before. Ready any day now to come triumphantly into the world. A child that she knew now was destined to be humanity’s undoing.

“I—I shouldn’t have come here. I have placed us all in danger.” she told him. Her voice low, almost a whisper, as if she was scared to have anyone else hear it. Frightened on what she might be asked to do again in her darkest hour.

“Coming here was exactly what you should have done piccola. This child and you belong here with us—with Terzo.” Primo said, squeezing her hand. The tears spilled quietly down and over the round softness of her cheeks. Cradling her belly in her arms as she sniffled back. Trying desperately not to sob.

“He will be the antichrist. Satan will take him as a vessel for evil. We will all be destroyed…” Mary cried, gripped tight to her belly as if she could protect her child from his fate.

“Do you really believe that?” Primo asked her. The two of them, locking in a stare as Mary swallowed back her guilt.

“What else am I to believe? I have condemned us all.”

“You know…many children have been born into the Emeritus family and none of them have destroyed anything. Unless you count my patience.” Primo said, his humor relieving some of the tension in the room. Mary, even laughing along with him through the tears.

“I love him Primo.” Mary said, whipping away the droplets from her eyes. Wishing that it was all a dream. That she and Terzo would live happily ever after like they do in fairy tales. No prophecies or damnation, a child born to them that was no more evil than herself—a sinner who was otherwise good.

“I know you do, and he loves you and that baby more than anything in creation.” Primo smiled. Mary, gently smiling back at him before she tried to straight out a bit more. Wincing after only a moment. Her brow furrowing hard on her forehead as her hand came up to rest upon her swollen belly.

“What’s wrong?” asked Cirrus, rushing over to her bedside.

“Oh no…” she said, her eyes growing wide as the wet spot between her legs grew larger across the sheets. “My water just broke. The baby is coming.”

“Shit.” Omega remarked, but Primo without hesitation took control. Though inside he too was scared. Never in his life did he imagine any of this would come to pass. Most certainly that he would ever need to help deliver a child.

“It’s going to be alright piccola.” he began, turning to face Omega and the ghoulettes as they stood anxiously nearby.

“Omega, get Terzo here now.”

Terzo had sat quietly on the ground. His head hung low between his knees as he tried pulling himself together enough to return inside. Each moment without Mary near was enough to drive him mad. Though he knew now things were once again forever changed between them.

He lifted up his head. Closing his eyes and drawing forth a deep breath as he prepared to stand, when he felt the weight of something on his lap. Opening his eyes to look down at a dagger that laid across him. Small enough to be concealed and sharp enough to slice through bone.

“What the–” He began, lifting the dagger to take a closer look. It was the same one from Gabriel. The hilt, still shimmering with celestial light. Weighted well in his hand as he twisted it around.

“You know what to do.” said a voice. Seeming to come from inside him, “...use their own blade to give me what I ask.” Terzo shook off the thought as he tucked the blade into his coat pocket. Hearing another familiar voice calling out to him.

“Terzo! Terzo!” they yelled. Instantly he recognized it was Omega. The ghoul had quickly turned the corner and came running into the garden clearing. Urgently calling out to him as the ghoul’s face looked frightened and helpless. Unlike Terzo had ever seen before.

“Omega…what—”

“No time, Mary has gone into labor!” he explained. Yanking Terzo off the ground and onto his feet. The two of them, taking off towards the Abbey. His faithful companion unaware of what Terzo had been asked—what he was now certain he must do.

“Just breathe, Mary. He’s on his way.” Primo assured her. Cumulus moved quickly as she began wringing out the washcloth of cool water, placing it back on Mary’s forehead. Her face covered in tears and her body dripping with sweat. The pain of her labor, becoming more and more intense with each passing second.

“Oh…ah…I changed my mind. I don’t wanna do this anymore.” she cried. Her hands gripped tightly to the sheets. Turning white, nails tearing through the fabric as another contraction hit her.

“I think it’s too late for that.” Cirrus told her, peeking her head out in the hall for any sign of Omega and Terzo’s return.

“Ah!” Mary screamed. Primo brought himself down at the end of the bed. Lifting up the sheet to see a gush of blood pouring out from inside her. So much blood that a chill ran through him. Scared that the child may already be gone. Something he knew he couldn’t tell her.

“Mary, please breathe.” he said once again. Trying his best to hide his fears, when suddenly the wounds from the stigmata began opening up. One by one, each of them splitting open again until she was covered in blood. Screaming and crying from all the intense pain. Inescapable and horrifying.

“Oh fuck, it’s tearing through me!” Mary screamed. Her dress now completely soaked in blood from the waist down as Primo and the ghoulettes tried to hold her down. Mary quickly was falling further into madness, bleeding out before them. Cursed with visions of Heaven and Hell, furiously fighting a war that would never be won. Surrounded by blood and gore—the likes of which were of an indescribable amount. Covering all the world as the sound of Satan’s laughter began filling her ears.

As another contraction hit, she screamed again. This time begging for death, for God to take her and spare her baby. Gripped tightly onto Cumulus' hand. The ghoulette’s claws, going numb in her grasp. There was nothing they could do to stop it—this baby was coming and now.

“It’s going to be ok Mary, don’t push yet. It’s too soon.” Primo begged. Watching as she writhed around in the bed. The stigmata wounds, continuing to bleed, spattering across the room as she struggled against the ghoulettes’ hold. Both of them, looking at one another in fear before turning their sights on Primo. Knowing that Mary and her child would likely not make it.

She had lost so much blood. Her screams, turning to a deafening silence. Mary, completely void of strength as her labor continued. Crying softly as she clung barely on to life. All of them, helpless to watch her and her child dying before their eyes. Primo continued doing his best to assist. Holding himself together like he always did in times of crisis. Praying that at least one of them would be spared of this fate.

When all had seemed at its bleakest, Terzo and Omega could finally be heard running down the Hall. Catching sight of Secondo as he too was making his way down to the infirmary. The rest of the Abbey inhabitants lining the halls as the screams from poor Mary had flooded the building—blood curdling cries, sent echoing throughout every square inch, alerting them to the situation. They were nothing but a blur as Terzo and the others burst through the doorway.

“How is she? Oh, Mary I’m so sorry.” Terzo cried, covered in sweat and smeared paint. Filled with horror at the sight of her. Blood everywhere, covering everything around them. His love’s face, pale and stone still. Looking as if she were only moments from death. Terzo realized that it was now or never.

“She’s lost so much blood fratellino, I don't think either of them are going to make it.” Primo told him. The old man’s face filled with more sorrow than Terzo had ever seen at his admission. The rise and fall of Mary’s chest, barely discernible, now slowing as her time drew near.

“This can’t be…we must be able to do something.” Secondo chimed in, the guilt of his covetousness weighing heavily on him. Worried that he had somehow allowed this to happen. That somehow, he too was at fault and that both God and Lucifer had forsaken Mary and her child for his own defiance and greed.

“There—there is something.” Terzo began. The words, barely making it out of him as all others in the room stopped to face him. Waiting for his answer as Terzo swallowed back, tasting the foulness in his mouth for what he was about to say—about to do.

“What is it?” Primo asked, bringing his hands between Mary’s legs to feel for the baby’s head. Its small peak of hair, just palpable from inside her. “We must hurry, I can feel the head.”

“Oh fuck.” Omega gulped, feeling dumbfounded and lost. Terzo slipped his hand within his coat. Pulling from it the blade hidden within. Instantly the tears began to fall from his eyes.

“This.” he told them. All eyes falling to the sharp edge of the blade.

“What?” Secondo asked as Terzo began sobbing. Looking over to Mary as she had all but bled out. Watching the life slip away from her as he stood before his brother. Holding the blade, he was to murder Secondo with, in his hands. Scared he had waited too long and that even now it was too late for Mary and their child to survive. Would he be sacrificing Secondo for nothing?

“I was visited in the garden by Lucifer.” he began, everyone’s attention held in a vice. The presence of the old one, felt even now in the room. Surrounding them in a veiled cloud of darkness.

“And?” Primo said as he and the ghoulettes continued to try and take care of Mary as best they could.

“I was told that the child would be spared its fate as the antichrist if I—I…”

“If you what stronzo? Spit it out.” Secondo hissed, though it seemed to Terzo as if he knew. As if something had told him already that a deal had been made.

“If I kill you.” Terzo admitted, the sounds of gasping filling the room. “But I just can’t.”

“Then do it.” Secondo told him. Realizing this was it—this was his chance, given to him by Lucifer to redeem himself. A chance for him to make things right between them.

“I never wanted to make this choice!” Terzo cried out when suddenly Secondo came to stand before him.

“I said do it! Do it now!” he yelled, taking the blade from Terzo and positioning it against the flesh of his chest. Wrapping Terzo’s hands around the hilt as he continued on. “Kill me now. It’s the only way.” Secondo told him, the hint of tears glazing his eyes.

“But Secondo… I…” Terzo tried to continue. His sobbing, blurring his vision more as he heard Secondo too had succumbed to his emotions. The rest of them, waiting with bated breath as the two brothers reached their inescapable fate.

“Please.” Secondo begged, staring into his little brother’s eyes. His heart aching, pounding—breaking. Both of them were covered in sweat. Chests heaving with labored breath and souls crying out from within.

“I don’t want to do this Secondo. Understand that I…I have to….” Terzo cried, trying to reason with himself. This was the only way to save Mary. To save his child from death.

“Then do what you have to do.” Secondo smiled softly.

“Oh cazzo…Secondo I can’t. I can’t.” Terzo yelled. Cursing the Devil and God alike as he stood with the blade pressed just above his brother’s beating heart.

“I have not been a good brother to you Terzo. Let me do this.” Secondo begged, Terzo pulling away and pacing the room. Feeling as though he may die before being able to make the choice. His whole body aching as each second passed.

“I just…I can’t.” Terzo cried once more. Secondo had had enough. Looking at Mary as she lay in the bed. Covered in crimson red, inches from death. Knowing that deep down this was the only way to save her. Confident that his sacrifice—their sacrifice would fix it.

“Ah!” Secondo yelled, charging towards him. Forcing Terzo to finish him. The blade, plunging deep into Secondo’s chest. Everyone was in shock as Secondo dropped to the ground. The dagger sticking out from his front. Letting go from his mortal coil as a smile spread across his face. It was done.

“Why?” Terzo asked him as he fell to his knees. Kneeling beside him and pulling him close in his arms.

“I love you.” Secondo told him as he began to cough. The blood stained his normally blackened lips, red. The second Emeritus son had slipped away in peace.

“I love you.” Terzo cried as Secondo fell lifeless in his arms. Setting his brother carefully down to the floor in silence. The loudest silence any of them had ever known.

“Terzo…” Mary’s voice rang out in the quiet of the room. Barely above a whisper it managed to carry him as he turned to face her in her severely weakened state. All of them, relieved to hear her knowing she had been spared as promised in the wake of Secondo’s death.

“Amore.” Terzo called out, rushing to her side and taking her hand. Primo could feel the baby’s head was crowning.

“We are almost there.” he told Terzo, trying his best to continue on in the chaos. Feeling, as Mary had another contraction, that the cord was wrapped around the baby's neck. Terzo immediately noticed the look flash across Primo’s face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, watching his brother work to get the baby out as fast as he could.

“It’s too late.” Mary cried. Terzo, feeling helpless as Primo refused to answer him. Mary brought his hand to her side. Feeling the blood as it began pouring out from the final stigmata wound. The wound had appeared without her even making a whimper. Too weak and far gone to even respond as she began slipping steadily away.

“Oh fuck. No! No!” Terzo yelled as Mary went limp. Primo, working his hardest to help deliver the baby who had managed to come through the birth canal. Removing the ensnarement of the cord. Crushed to find no signs of life as he held the small bundle in his arms.

“Terzo…I’m so sorry.” Primo told him, holding the baby closely in his arms. His face filled with tears. Sniffling back to try his best to speak. “He’s gone.”

“NO! You promised me!” Terzo howled. His voice, cracking in pain as his screams reached both Heaven and Hell. Raging at the universe and all things within it. Ready to burn existence down before him.

I PROMISED YOU NOTHING INSOLENT WHELP.

The voice said, echoing all around them. All of them immediately knew who it came from. God himself, coming to gloat that he had prevailed. Taken everything from Terzo and his beloved Mary.

“God?” Mary asked, barely alive. Knowing that her baby was gone. Her life was destroyed, and she no longer cared about anything. Wishing for her death to come.

You defied me Mary. You refused to erase your sin and now two people have died instead of one.

“You fucking piece of shit!” Terzo growled, wishing he had any control. His son was dead, held still in his brother’s arms. His other brother, lifeless on the floor. The love of his life barely holding on as her own God smugly berated her—blamed her.

“I—” Mary began, somehow managing to continue on.

I am however a benevolent God. I can give you a second chance. Beg me for forgiveness and repent for your sins and I shall heal thee. Welcome you back into the bosom of Heaven. Absolve you of sin.

Mary looked over to Primo, seeing her baby for the first time. His little hand, just visible above the blanket as Primo held onto him. Knowing that he had never been able to draw his first breath. Feel the love she held for him in her heart. A heart now torn in a million pieces. Shattered like glass, never able to be whole again in his absence. She no longer cared about what would happen to her, ready to have God strike her where she stood but not before she said her peace.

“I no longer want your paradise.” she began. Her tears, so intense that her voice could barely continue through them. “You are nothing. Nothing but false promises and veiled wickedness.” she cried, when the sound of hissing came loudly pouring into the room. A snake slithering across the bloodied floor. Gliding in a winding swirl over Secondo's body, before coiling up onto the bed beside where Mary lay. The serpent, beginning to speak to them, though its lips never moved.

“I ALWAYS keep my promises.” it said as suddenly a cry came out from the little bundle in Primo’s arms. The once pale hand, turning pink as the child wriggled in his uncle's arms. Primo, smiling down and crying as the baby announced himself unto the world.

All of them, joyous and shocked that the child was now alive. Mary too was returning to her normal color. The blood that had covered her, slowly disappeared as if it was never spilled. Primo, quickly handing Mary her son. His small face brightly shining as Terzo held the two of them in his arms.

“Our baby.” he cried. The tears now of pure joy as he buried his face into Mary’s hair.

“He’s going to be alright.” Primo told them. Both Mary and Terzo, filled with relief as she turned her sights upward. Addressing God head on as he watched them in annoyance.

“It is in the devil and his servant, my sweet Terzo, that I have found the truth of what you are. The father who would abandon his child for a gentle sin.” Mary yelled. The smile on her face, cold towards her once beloved deity as God’s light shone within the room. So bright that it nearly blinded them.

Be damned then you fool. Enjoy what you have now…until we meet again.

God said, his voice tainted with hatred as the bright light faded away. Disappearing into the ceiling before leaving all of them alone together. The serpent too had disappeared in thin air, just as Terzo and Mary had held tightly to one another. Their little boy cooing away in his parent’s arms.

One Week Later…

It was a rainy day. Crisp and windy, just as he would have liked it, Terzo imagined as he prepared himself for Secondo’s funeral. A day like this was his favorite kind. The energy of a storm on the horizon and the cleansing power of the rain was always something Secondo held dear.

Terzo smiled at the thought. Though his brother may never have thought so, Terzo knew now that Secondo had truly been the best of them. Willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for those he loved. One Terzo would never let anyone forget.

“It’s almost time.” Mary said, coming to meet him. Annoyed to still find him getting dressed in his vestments. Clearly losing himself in thought as the day weighed on him.

“I know, come here.” he smiled, a hit of bittersweet emotions held in his eyes. Holding out his hands as he waited for Mary to give him their son. Little baby Luca, who was sleeping soundly in her arms, looked just like his father in every way.

“Don’t wake him Terzo, I just got him to fall asleep.” Mary pleaded, gently handing him over. The little boy stretched; eyes still closed as he nuzzled into his father’s chest. The quiet hum of his snores and the tiny beats of his heart, felt softly against Terzo’s grasp. Tears falling from his eyes.

“Will he ever know how much he is loved?”

“He will…we will make sure of it.” Mary replied, pushing up on her toes to kiss Terzo’s forehead. Careful to not disturb his paints.

“You were right, you know, all children are gifts from God.” Terzo smiled.

“I just was mistaken on which God.” Mary smiled, “...now let's get going.” she continued, taking the baby back from him as they headed down the stairs towards the chapel.

Terzo was overwhelmed as he walked down the nave. The pews, lined with flowers and plants of emerald, green. All in honor of his brother's color. He tried not to think about it as he approached the sanctuary. The casket staring him down, making it harder for him to keep it together.

This brother’s loss felt heavy among the siblings, ghouls, clergy, and congregation. Terzo wondered if now Secondo could see just how much he meant to others. Just how important he really was. Just before stepping up to the pulpit, to give his final respects, Terzo placed his hand on the top of the casket.

“You were the best of us all.” he whispered, hoping that Secondo could hear him. Sniffling back as he prepared to give his brother’s eulogy. “Thank you.”

Notes:

dolcezze- sweethearts

piccola- little one (feminine)

Stronzo- asshole

#FINAL CHAPTER #Holy Mary #Terzo x Catholic nun #Terzo x OC Mary #Terzo #papa iii #papa emeritus iii #ren writes #ghost #the band ghost #ghost fic #ghost fanfic #ghost fanfics #ghost fanfiction #the band ghost fic #the band ghost fanfic #the band ghost fanfiction

34 notes · View notes

bloofinntoona · 2 years

Text

Dear Sebastian

Word Count: 1.9 k

Themes: fluff, hurt/comfort, a little angst, sebastian sallowxf!reader

Summary: every summer, you and sebastian write letters to each other.

Summer of Year Five

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Dear Sebastian,

I do hope you are faring well. To be quite honest, I was worried about you. I know the situation is not easy right now, but I believe that things will slowly get better.

The professors had me stay in Hogwarts for another week after the term ended. Headmaster Black was dumbfounded that such repository existed just under the school. My, I wished you’ve seen how stressed that made Gladwin Moon. He forgot about the Demiguise monkeys, and now he keen on learning more about the secrets of ancient magic. They decided to keep this a secret from the ministry. I think it’s for the best. I also promised Professor Fig that I would keep it locked inside.

My father asked me to stay in London during the summer holiday – he said not having me around these past months was rather odd. I’d say it was because nobody helped him prepare his supper after work. Sleeping in my own bedroom felt empty after being with friends at Hogwarts. I missed the shenanigans that I witness at school, and I do miss going on adventures with you.

I would love to hear back from you.

All the best,

[Y/N]

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┍━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☟━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┑

Dear [Y/N],

I’m doing better, thank you for checking in on me.

Apparently, the people at Feldcroft told me that Anne decided to stay at St. Mungos. At least I know that she is cared for and safe. I still hope that there is a cure, and I will keep trying no matter what. The house never felt this vacant, even after my parents passed, I still had Anne by my side. Thankfully, one of my neighbours took pity and let me stay with them. If I help them with chores, of course. Better than empty house and cold nights, I suppose.

I can’t lie but I kept having nightmares about the cave. I kept seeing my uncle’s body on the ground again and again. Even worse, I saw the horror on everyone’s face after. I can’t seem to shake it off my head.

Thank you again for writing. I haven’t talked to Ominis again. I might have severed whatever bond we have left.

I wished I could visit London.

Best regards,

S.S

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Dear Sebastian,

I’m sorry to hear about your nightmares. I too kept replaying my fight with Ranrok in my head, and just how I wasn’t able to save the Professor that I look up to. Before I left, the professors gave me several bottle of Dreamless Sleep potion. I’m sharing a few bottles for you.

You would love London. I will take you to all of the bookstores here. I visited my favourite, just in front of the River Thames. That being said, I picked up a Herbology book for you. I remember you brought Shrivelfig Fruit to Anne that one time, maybe this book would help you learn more about other types of plants out there. I hope the owl delivers the package to you in one piece.

I also just received my O.W.Ls grade, and I scored an E. Not bad for a new student, eh? I had a hard time remembering all the charms, which means I really need to lay off from using my ancient magic. I rely too much on my power.

I sent a letter to Ominis as well. He also wished the sixth year can come sooner. The Gaunts House sounds dreadful. Oh, he visited Anne as well. He said she is doing better. She has you in her thoughts, but I told Ominis that you were taken care of, and she should focus on recovering.

Best,

[Y/N]

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Dear [Y/N],

You are far too kind. I don’t know how I could repay you. It brings me ease to hear about Anne and Ominis. It does give me a glimmer of hope that I can reconcile with them, in due time. The potion works wonders. I was finally able to have a decent sleep after months.

I have read the book. I can’t believe there are no sentient plants in the muggle world. How do they fight off their foes? I don’t understand. I might try to make some of the remedies written here and give them to Anne when I get to see her.

My O.W.Ls are not as great as I hopped. I passed, but the whole ordeal took the toll on me. Professor Weasley sent me a note that she is ‘disappointed’ because I’m a ‘bright student’. But worry not, I shall do better at my N.E.W.Ts.

By any chance you write to Ominis again, please tell him that I missed having him around. And I wished that we can talk again if he is ready.

Although I have to do this sodding farm work everyday, I was surprised to see the plentiful yield we got this year. I’ve sent you back some Dittany Leaves I personally planted myself – hope it helped you brew more Wiggenweld potions for your adventures.

I’ll see you soon at Hogwarts,

S.S

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Summer of Year Six

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Dear [Y/N],

What a school year it has been! If I may, I shall start this letter by saying thank you for being there for me. I don’t know what I would do without you. I hope your trip with Poppy to her grandmother is going smoothly, please do write back whenever you can.

I wanted to let you know that Anne wished to spend time with me this summer. I am overjoyed, packed my bags in a jiffy and went straight to St. Mungo’s. Anne never looked better, she said that the wizards who work there were able to create a spell that let her supress the pain. It still comes in bouts, but it wasn’t as painful as it was. She decided not to continue her studies in Hogwarts though, so I plan on sneaking more books, perhaps from the restricted section, to her when we are back.

I hope the injury that you sustained after your first Quidditch match is better. That daft Leander, knocking you from your broom just because he couldn’t keep his eyes away from you. I bet you ten galleons he has a crush on you. You should keep an eye out if he gives you anything edible, I’m sure they will be laced with Amortentia.

I look forward to hearing about your adventures.

Warmly,

S.S.

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Dear Sebastian,

What a year indeed. My arm is far better right now. And Leander got his punishment already from having his house score deducted. I think the hatred from Gryffindor students are enough. I shall keep note of not taking any edible presents from him.

Poppy and her grandmother are very pleasant hosts. I think I ate my lifetime worth of pumpkin pasties. I wished I can send you some, but the owl will surely eat them before they get to you. They took me to a Hippogriff den that she just discovered near the coast. You should see how adorable Hippogriff babies are, I just wanted to hug them all! Her grandmother graciously taught me how to approach magical beasts better, not just by floating them mid-air and stuff them in my bag. And guess what? I saw a black Hippogriff, just the one you said you’d like to fly on one day. Here’s a feather for proof.

I’m glad to hear that you can spend some time with Anne. Please tell her that I hope she is feeling better, and I do wish I can meet her again.

I am a bit worried about my N.E.W.Ts studies though, kept having dreams about failing it. I didn’t realize just how much I have to catch up again.

Thinking of you,

[Y/N]

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Dear [Y/N],

Such majestic feather – if I was there, I swear I will jump on its back and fly around the hills. Maybe I can have you flying next to me? I would love to fly around the highlands with you. I can show you this small forest that my parents used to take me. We would harvest many unique magical plants that you can’t find anywhere else.

If you’d like, I would love to help you study. We always have the Undercroft for ourselves and the Room of Requirements too, if Deek isn’t there to talk about the potions you’ve brewed. Call me your own personal tutor.

The big news that I have, is that Ominis finally went to visit Anne and I. As you knew, Ominis and I were able to chat and even joke around now. I told him that the was he looked gaunt after spending time with his family, and he didn’t appreciate that one bit. Anne seems happy to have him around. Frankly, I find it weird if Ominis has romantic feelings to my sister, but deep down I know he will truly cherish her. For that, I shall not intrude. Now it felt like things were back before the curse, but I wished you are here to join our little trio.

I don’t know if you have visited the hospital, but there are little shops just next to it. I saw this dragonfly brooch and thought of you – apparently the shop keeper said it meant happiness and new beginnings. How fitting. Hope you like it.

Yours,

S.S

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Dear Sebastian,

The brooch is beautiful, I immediately pin it on my jacket and wore it to an outing with Poppy and her grandmother. We had delicious dinner and butterbeer. They teased me for smiling whenever I look at it, but I am glad to have a piece of you wherever I go.

I can’t believe you had the gall to make fun of Ominis. Even I found that joke terrible, you egg. I’m happy to see you happy, Sebastian. And I shall take you on that offer to study together, Merlin knows I need it.

I shall travel back to Hogwarts with Poppy just few days before school starts. Looks like they just built a new train station and I’m able to be one of the first passengers – how lucky am I! Before we have to pack up, her grandmother took us to see Thestrals. I am sticking to my opinion that these are beautiful creatures, and misunderstood. I managed to feed and even pet them, they are such gentle creatures.

Everyday I hoped I can share these experiences with you. I cannot wait to see you again very soon.

All yours,

[Y/N]

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Summer of Year Seven

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My Dearest [Y/N],

Words cannot describe how much miss you. I'm writing to you back at my home in Feldcroft. The house is still empty, but I’m holding on to the memories that we made during the years in Hogwarts. I can’t believe it took me all this time to finally confess that I am utterly in love with you.

I know that you will do well in your future endeavours. All of your hard work in classes will be fruitful, especially since you achieved an amazing score at N.E.W.Ts – might I add that I contributed as your personal tutor? The ministry will be lucky to have you as an AUROR. I thought about doing the same, but looks like I can’t shake the thought of embarking the same journey as my parents to become a professor. Who knows, maybe I can actually find a cure for Anne in the future. Just promise me that you will be safe, as I don’t know what I will do if I lose you.

Nobody stood closer to me when I was in distress. Even when Anne and Ominis pushed me away, you believed in me. You made me realize that I can live a better life, and I will continue to do so. For you. With this letter, I vow to be a better man for you, a man that can stand next to you and you can depend on.

I’m glad you came to Hogwarts.

Forever and always,

S.S

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A/N: Aaaaah sorry for not updating as much these days! I'm having a writer's block especially thinking about the sequel to 'cross your heart'. But I appreciate all the support i get everyday <3

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x f!reader #letters #hogwarts legacy #hl #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow fanfic #fluff fluff fluff #hurt comfort

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brokenpieces-72 · 2 months

Text

Closed Doors

The poll is still going, likely won’t be established until closer to the next part. The rest of the CoD Gangster AU.

Thankfully, you did end up getting to sleep. The next morning you’re still tired but you know you have to focus. Alex offers to give you a ride to whatever it is you need to do but as you’re waiting for him to get his boots on, you’re still wondering what that could be.

You have no leads on Nolan or where to start looking for him. There’s still that stupid key Ghost gave you but if you ask what it goes to, you might get caught. Tomorrow you have to go back in to the station, where you intend to get copies of the case file. You made sure Graves had it, and not only that, but he had it stored away where only he knew it would be.

Alex has his phone out and is calling some of his buddies on the force, getting as much information as he can. Even when you guys are getting breakfast he’s still talking and dialling more numbers. You’re inspecting the key almost the whole time, thinking and thinking. When was there a lock you couldn’t get into. There has to be something.

You think back to any time you’d been with Ghost and there was a lock nearby. Your mind has to dive deep, envisioning your surroundings as if there were locks everywhere, eliminating anything that wouldn’t be locked. No that will take too long, and your memory is good but not that good. You inspect the key instead.

Simple and metallic. It’s not a car key, there would be a symbol. Average sized, and definitely not a cheap one they use for locks on diaries and journals. You tried it on the doors at the safe house, no luck. The end is square shaped, with a four numbers cut into it. You try to search up the numbers to see if they have any significance. Maybe it was an important year, or a month and a day or…god this is hard.

“You know wha-oh sorry.” You say noticing Alex still on the phone. You wait until he done.

“You know what these numbers could be?” You ask, showing him the key. He takes it and looks it over thinking. Likely determining what the key was for too.

“Four numbers… who gave this to you?” Alex asks, still staring at the key. You keep thinking of things that have four numbers. Some addresses, time, dates, lock combos.

“Ghost. Hang on.” You take a note pad and start writing and counting while going through the alphabet. Alex lets you think for a bit, while you scribble names and numbers and start adding them. Maybe the numbers were related to a name, and then that would lead you to what ever the key is for.

“For someone who doesn’t want to be a cop you’re pretty good at this stuff.” Alex comments. You can’t argue with that.

“Dad and I did puzzles a lot.” You say. “Thank you for all of this.”

Alex looks up from the key, setting it down.

“I know we haven’t spent that long together, and holy shit I’m realizing how this is sounding in my head. No offence I don’t feel that way about you.” You say, starting to regret opening your mouth. Alex sits and listens, and you can tell he’s trying not to laugh. “I appreciate you helping me, and going beyond that. You didn’t have to stay with me last night- don’t you take that out of context- but you did so I would be safe.”

Alex is snickering but he understands. “You’re not the first person who’s needed me to stay with them. Believe it or not Farah has come to my place more than once, refusing to go to hospital or not remembering to eat. Been worried about her so that night was good for me too.”

You snort and Alex starts giving you a hard time about it. You’d met Alex a few times before all of this, and he’d always been friendly and laid back. Made you feel comfortable in the uniform even if you felt like it didn’t fit. He’d come to pay his respects at your father’s funeral. At the reception afterwards he found you by yourself and made you laugh when you felt like all you could do was cry.

Wait. Your father. Holy shit no way.

“Can you drive me to my apartment?” You say quickly. Alex was caught off guard a little, but agrees.

Once you arrive you run up to the door, before Alex has a chance to ask if you want him to come in with you. You race up the stairs and get to your floor, rushing down the hallway. The keys fumble in your hands as you try to work fast. When you unlock the door you nearly force it open out of impatience. You shut the door and get to your room, opening your bedside table drawer. There it is. You take out the key, and check. This was it. This was the lead.

The number on the key was your father’s badge number. The key was your dad’s. You take both items with you back downstairs, but before that you check your fridge and pantry to dispose of anything else that’s expired. Thinking quickly you get your garbage together and take the bag out. That way you had a reason for being there.

You come back downstairs and thankfully Alex waited for you. You get back in the car with a bright look on your face.

“That’s a good sign. What you get?” He asks. You show him the badge. “The key is your father’s?”

“I think I know what it belongs to as well.” You say pulling the seatbelt on. You can’t help but be excited that you may have something. What it is you’re not entirely sure but it’s a start. Unfortunately, it’s in the same place you haven’t wanted to visit for a while.

Alex drives you home. Not the safe house, not your apartment. Your old house where you grew up, where your father raised you, where you learned about your father’s death… everything.

You still have the keys, but for the most part the place was old and untouched. After losing your father and joining the force, you had left. At first you would stay with Graves or another relative. Once you could live on your own, you never really came back. You wanted to move on from that night but it stays with you. Something kept you from ever selling the house. Good thing too.

You step inside and there’s a bit of ware. It’s enough to get Milena to try and evict you if only to repair it and resell it. You’re sure she wouldn’t bother with it though.

“So what are we looking for?” Alex asks. You look for your father’s office, knowing there is one. It was one of the few places he didn’t like you going into without him. The only place. Inside the office is an old desk, and a bookshelf on one wall. On the other were picture frames with photos of you and him, a couple of your mother in them, some just him in uniform, and a few of your sketches. There's no computer, you removed most valuables to dissuade robbers. In the corner just behind the desk was a filing cabinet, that needed a key. You hold the key in your palm and approach the cabinet. Anytime you poked your head into the office, he would shut the cabinet before you could look inside.

Alex stays in the doorway, checking his phone for any replies. As you put the key in the lock, you hesitate. Whatever was in here was clearly valuable, enough to the point your father left the key with Ghost. A key that Ghost only gave you yesterday. You don't have any other options. You turn the key.

With a deep breath you grip the handle of the drawer. Rip it like a bandage, come on. You wrench the drawer open, eyes shut. There's a band as the wheels hit the ends of the tracks. Alex looks up from his phone, watching you. You open your eyes and find... files.

Okay yeah, files in a filing cabinet, probably should have seen that coming. You were kind of half expecting there to be a gun inside, or... well you weren't sure what to expect. After all, you never expected to get to this point in your life, and yet here you are. Your shoulders slump a little, relaxing from you tensing with expectations. Alex comes up behind you and looks over your shoulder.

"Not sure what I was expecting." You admit, glancing back at him, and then looking at the files.

"Maybe there's something on Makarov." Alex suggests, as you start looking through the file names. Again, bringing down Makarov would be good, but your priority was the 141. Even if Makarov was put behind bars, it doesn't mean his influence would be cut off. A few files are thicker than others, but you notice the names. They were names of cops. Your father was a detective but not a chief, so having files on officers was a little odd, especially personal ones.

"These are other cops..." Alex says. He pulls out a random file reading off the name, and opening it behind you. "Oh!'

You turn to see him shut the file immediately and see a look of shock and regret on his face. He looks at the closed file and then back at you while you raise your brow. Is he blushing as well? You turn back to the cabinet and pull another file, opening it. Inside are documents a couple receipts... and some photos. Photos that spoke more than a thousand words. The photos were a little blurry but it was clear that someone was selling drugs to the name on the file. More than a few photos shared similar interactions. You put the file back and open another inside the cabinet, removing documents and photos. Damning ones.

Alex watches as you remove the names of the officers that had jumped you. You look over them at your father's desk, and find criminal records, more photo evidence with time stamps, and a couple of bank statements. You text Graves about the officers, and get a reply right away.

Y/N: These officers, are they at the station?

G: Not anymore. They were killed during the raid while undercover.

If you could interrogate them you might have been able to get them to confess something. You could still use this information to support your case but it wouldn't do much. Then Alex asks a question.

"Why did your dad have all this?" He asks. You stop for a moment. You were too caught up in the lead to question it. Now it weighed on your mind. You set the files aside and start pulling out more files, and open the other drawers as well. Alex even shows you the file he'd found and in it, were some very provocative photos. Each file was on someone, and had pieces of evidence that could send them away very easily. Yet many of them were still walking around today, with hardly a blemish on their record.

You collect the files on the dead officers, and set them in a pile. Right now you don’t want to think about it but the question is radiating in your mind so much you have to answer it. You move to the other drawers and see if there are more files. What you find, shocks you. There’s more files but these are on people you aren’t expecting. You find files on Graves, Alex, Laswell, and Charly… and Price, Kyle, Johnny, Simon all of them! You go through them and simply find receipts and photos but more surveillance than evidence. You check the timestamps, and text Graves to check a couple case files. You take a photo of one the pictures you find in Johnny’s file asking for a full sized one. You’ll delete it after.

Alex waits next to you patiently as he looks at his own file. You see a few photos of him and Farah and someone else. “Who is this?”

Alex looks closer at the photo and clears his throat. “Farah’s brother… he’s no longer with us.”

You get a reply and check the time stamp on the photo Graves sent, and the time stamp on the one you had in front of you. They were different. You delete the texts quickly as you realize what your dad had been doing all these years.

“My dad was corrupt.” You say aloud. “He was covering for the 141 and blackmailing cops to keep quiet. Holy shit.”

“He was finding the corruption.” Alex says.

“He was covering his own.” You argue.

“Y/n like it or not, the system isn’t clean. Neither are you, but everyone thinks you are right now.” Alex says. You realize what he’s getting at. It’s one thing to vandalize with art. It’s another to plant false evidence and create fake alibis.

“I have a lot of work to do. Not doing it here though.” You say. You gather all the files you need putting them in a box. Alex picks it up and takes it to his vehicle but you stop in the doorway. Once he has it in the trunk, he turns back and sees you still haven’t moved.

“Need a Minute?” He asks. You nod, without thinking about it. The key is safe in your pocket as you step back inside. You look around the halls and wonder if your father left anything else for you to find. When you go to his bed room, you expect to find a skeleton half slumped out of the wardrobe. You’re disappointed, but you stand there in the bedroom staring at the bed he once laid in. The one you would lay in with him, whether it was during a thunderstorm, or because he’d gotten injured or when you made him burnt breakfast. The room felt different looking at it now. Somehow it felt like a puzzle, something hiding under the bed or shoved in a closet.

You decide to check under the bed and you find something you were only allowed to look at, your father very strict when it came to fire arms. It’s in a box and it has an engraved design on the side. You open the box and see it. There’s a little extra inside, a letter. You tuck the letter away, and look at the gun. Engraved on the side is an arrow, one that he also had tattooed. Once said that sometimes the right path was as straight as an arrow, it’s whether you fire straight or the wind carries it that changes its course. Yeah he wasn’t the best at metaphors.

You fiddle with the end of your red scarf where you kept a small arrow pin. You have a path laid out before you but there so much wind you don’t know if it’s the right one. If it’s to reach your target though, you have to fire.

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666 @bestbookfriends @thriving-n-jiving

#cod au #gangster au #cod gangster au #alex keller #gn reader #some wholesome #x gn reader #going deeper #task force 141 x reader #phillip graves

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boygiwrites · 4 months

Text

Harley D. Dixon 32

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📖Chapter List.

Herschel still looks like he's sleeping peacefully after a long day's work on the farm, with one of his arms flopped over the side of the bed, handcuffed to the frame. His fingers, curled loosely around nothing, refuse to twitch no matter how long I stare at them.

Maybe that's why it's so hard for me to imagine him as one of the walkers.

It's easy to forget that they used to be people.

"You best wake up soon," I tell the motionless old man, trying my best to sound like I mean business. It ain't lost on me that my Dad was in this same position last year, laid up in bed after he took that bullet to the guts and refused to die. It was Herschel that had saved him, only outta the kindness of his heart and nothing much else at all, 'cause he ain't got a bad bone in him, not even one. "We need you."

Crouched at his bedside, Maggie squeezes her eyes shut, a tear slipping down her cheek as she holds his hand.

When she opens them again, they're green and watery like fresh grass after a sun shower.

Even though Carl and I got an earful from our Dads about sneaking off, I'm glad we managed to get the supplies from the infirmary.

His leg — Or should I call it something else, now that half of it is gone? Is there a word for such an impossible thing? — is wrapped up in clean, white bandages, no longer pourin' blood. I know any one of us would happily give him one of ours, but we just can't.

"Thank you," Carol glances from me, to Carl, to Glenn. "By the way. I couldn't have done this without your help."

Glenn smiles a bit. "Should I say it was no problem?"

"Probably not," She chuckles softly, going back to tidying up the thin gauze around the wound.

Herschel was always so kind to me, even when I wasn't kind in return. There are just some people who are like that — Good. Like Dale — and can't ever be anything else. I used to think it was a weakness, because what good is an animal that doesn't know how to bite? How's it meant to survive? Nobody I ever knew was brave enough to be gentle, but Herschel was. He took us in when we needed help, fed us warm tea and potato soup when all we had to give in return was trouble. He cleaned the blood from my wounds, gave me a clean bed to sleep in.

No matter if somebody is as mean as a snake or as loyal as a dog — In my case, if they're both — we all bleed the same.

"Harley?"

Everybody turns at the sound of Beth's voice, the blonde girl peering around the doorframe.

"Yeah?"

"Could you come help me with somethin' real quick?" She asks, adding, "It won't take long."

"That reminds me, actually." Carol tells Glenn, "I need your help with something, too."

"I don't think I can leave Herschel again," He says.

"Let's talk about it outside."

"Um. Sure thing," I nod to Beth, standing from the metal seat and following her outta the cell, and into ours. "What is it?"

She kneels down on Carl's mattress where Mouse is napping, picking up a bundle of brown cloth and laying it across her lap. "He's gonna have a hard time walkin' around with one side of his pants draggin' on the ground. He could, you know, trip or somethin'."

She takes a tiny sewing needle and sticks it through the fabric.

Trip?

Her Daddy's on his deathbed and she's worried about him tripping?

"I just need you to keep the string from knottin' up," She explains as I sit in front of her. "So I can focus on the sewin' part."

Taking the string and picking the tangled pieces apart as she continues weaving the needle in and out, her thin fingers trembling, I decide to humour her, because it's the right thing to do. Some people cry when they're nervous, but I guess others sew up pantlegs.

"I asked Maggie to help me earlier," She muses, frustrated. "But she wouldn't do it."

I almost lose my grip on the string as she tugs harshly on it, catching it at the last moment.

"Oops."

"Apparently, she didn't want me to get my hopes up too high," She says. "You believe that? It's like s-she thinks he's gonna die."

I struggle to know whether or not I should tell her that's exactly what Maggie thinks, and that nobody can blame her for it. I thought my Dad was gonna die when we were on the farm, but it was never because I didn't have faith in him. I was just scared.

Feeling my stare on her, Beth looks up at me through her furrowed brows, pouting, "What?"

I shake my head. "Nothin'."

"Just say it, then." She slumps. "You think the same thing, don't you?"

Gesturing to her with the ball of string, I try to convince her, "Well, I'm helpin' ya, ain't I?"

She sighs as she looks back down at her needle. "Yeah, but I know you're just feelin' sorry for me. I felt sorry for you when your Dad was unconscious. You were like a sad little puppy dog waitin' for her owner at the door, but I couldn't do anything to help."

"I'on think he's gonna die," I insist, because it's true. "I think he's either gonna die or wake up, and that's totally different."

She pulls the needle through with a long, sweeping motion. "Sorry. I'm just... I appreciate you gettin' the medical supplies."

"O'course."

I ain't gonna lie and tell her I didn't second guess going with Carl, but what matters is that I only ever had Herschel in mind.

If you were to ask my Dad, though, he'd say that's exactly what the problem was.

She adds, "Just... Promise to be more careful, next time?"

"Who bribed ya to say that?"

"Nobody," She giggles, biting the string with her teeth and tying it off. "Nobody needs to be bribed to care about you, Harley."

"What'd they give ya?"

"Nothin'!"

"If it was cookies, I want one."

"Oh, shut it." She smooths out the pantleg before holding it up to look at. "There. These will do. Decent, right?"

I smile, "Yeah, you're really good at that."

"Thanks." Folding them neatly and grabbing the next pair of pants, she says, "My Mom taught me all about textiles when I w—"

"Oh, my God!"

Mouse's head whips up.

"Maggie?" I call out worriedly, throwing the string aside and running outta the cell. "What's wrong?"

She's backed up against the wall when I come to a stop outside Herschel's cell, staring wide-eyed at him, shuddering somethin' about, He ain't breathin', He stopped breathin', as Lori pushes past everyone and presses her ear to his chest.

"'Stopped breathin'?'" I exclaim but I don't know who to, horrified it means, dead.

"Oh, Lord," Beth croaks.

Lori lifts her head and without wasting any time, she starts pumping his chest, grunting with each brutal squashing of his sternum. I watch on, unsure what I can do, unsure if I'm gonna stop breathin', too. His heart's stopped, and I know that means dead.

Lori's hair hangs down, tickling the end of his nose like a feather.

"Come on," She's gritting through her teeth, "Come on."

I swear his nostrils twitch.

I'on even have to think about it. I pull my gun out, point it at his head, watching for any sign that he's waking up in the wrong way. It ain't like all the other heads I've had hovering on my sights. It ain't mishappen, rotted, peeled back, leaking. It's just our Herschel.

The handcuffs rattle.

I gasp.

All the little hairs on my arms stand up.

Lori squeals as his body lurches up like he's being sick and his arms reach out for her, Maggie pulling her into her side.

They hold each other, gawking at him.

Has he turned? Is he gone?

I'm about to move my finger onto the trigger when he lets out a thin sigh, slumps back down on his pillow, and starts to snore like a happy baby, none the wiser to any of the horror he just caused us. Well. I'm glad somebody's havin' a good time.

Lowering the gun, I look at poor Maggie, Beth, and Lori, suddenly quite ashamed that I had drawn.

When I look to my left, Carl's shakily lowering his gun, too.

"It's okay," Maggie soothes us after a breathless moment has passed. "It's— It's okay."

"I'm sorry," I say. Even if he had turned into a walker and I was forced to shoot him, it still would'a had her Dad's face on it.

"Don't be, honey. It's okay." She says. "He's okay."

Beth suddenly breaks free of them and marches outta the cell.

Not wanting her to be alone after what just happened, I holster my gun and follow after her, Mouse at my heel. I don't care that I'll probably be stuck with her for hours. Some people sew up pantlegs when they're nervous, but I guess others help them hold the string.

Beth and I have finished tailoring and folding away all of Herschel's pants by the time Rick, Dad, and T-Dog return to the cellblock, approaching Carl, who's standing in the doorway of Herschel's cell, telling them, "Herschel stopped breathing before. Mom saved him."

"It's true," Glenn nods as they crowd into the cell with us, Rick coming to his bedside, sadly gazing down at him.

"I almost shot him, Dad," I whisper, thinking of the night he was forced to raise his gun to Dale's head. "Thought he turned."

His expression solemn, he reaches down and wraps a hand around the nape of my neck, squeezing reassuringly.

"S'alright," He rasps quietly, leaving the rest unsaid.

I let the pressure calm me as I watch Herschel's sleeping face, his wrinkled mouth parting as if to speak a silent word.

Wait.

His mouth is parting.

Realizing the same thing, Maggie rushes to his side.

"Daddy?" She softly calls out to him, searching his closed eyes for something. "Daddy, we're here."

"We're here," Beth agrees.

Please, I think to myself, This has to be it, right?

I feel Dad move his hand onto my shoulder, stopping me from reaching for my holster. He rests his fingers on the grip of his gun. Rick gently puts his hand on Maggie's back, glancing back at him with a tense sort of look before focusing on Herschel again.

Then, without any grand affairs or a single word from anybody in the room, his eyelids slowly flutter open, and they're not milky, or bloodshot, or twitching, or anything. They're just a tender blue, focusing and unfocusing on the bottom of the bunk above him.

The first thing he turns his head to look at is Maggie's tearful, laughing face. Beth lets out a squeaky cry, and the corner of his mouth pulls into a weak smile as his hand twitches in the handcuffs, tryna reach out for them in the human way, gentle and loving.

He's okay. He really is.

Dad relaxes, removing his hand from his gun.

Taking the keys from his belt, Rick unlocks the handcuffs and they fall away, letting Herschel embrace Maggie's wet cheek.

"Hey, sleepyhead," Beth sniffles.

"You scared us," Maggie adds, putting her hand over his.

He looks over her shoulder at Rick, at me and Dad, at Carol and T-Dog, at Lori, Glenn, and Carl, and lastly, at smiling Mouse.

"I hope my bed hair isn't going to s-scare you all over again," He says hoarsely, making us all chuckle. "How long?"

"About half a day," She says. "We dressed your leg up real good. Got the bleedin' to stop. You're gonna be okay, Daddy."

"Of course I am," He smiles.

"Let me get you some water," Carol says as she turns outta the cell, leaving everyone to bask in the moment, sharing relieved glances.

We got no choice but to believe him when he sounds as certain as he does. He's a tough one, alright. Tougher than all of us combined.

When she returns, Maggie shuffles outta the way to give her room to crouch down, helping him take a long sip.

"Easy," She cautions, pulling away. "We want you rested up."

"Yes, I think that's a good idea," He agrees, peering down his belly at his half-leg, giving it a bit of a wiggle.

"Does it hurt?"

"Oh," He chuckles. "Only my pride, my dear. You did an excellent job."

"Well, I had an excellent teacher," She says proudly, brushing some of the hair back from his face.

"And, Rick," He reaches out for the man, who takes his bony hand in his strong ones. "I think I owe you just about everything."

He shakes his head. "No more than I owe you."

"I haven't quite taken an axe to your leg, yet, son," He jokes, releasing his hand to point at him, "S-so, not exactly."

Dipping his head, he laughs, "Fair enough, old man."

Taking Maggie's hand again, Herschel's eyes begin to droop sleepily before he falls back asleep, a faintly happy look on his face, like he's having a nice dream. Maggie kisses Beth's cheek and holds her Daddy's hand under her chin, placing another kiss there.

"Let's leave him to rest," Carol says, gently guiding everyone out. "He needs it if he's going to be up and walking."

Stepping into the cell hall, Rick sighs heavily, "That was a relief."

"He's a tough son of a bitch," Glenn agrees.

Rubbing her belly, Lori asks, "What happened with the prisoners?"

"We tried to take cell block C with them," He explains, his brow splattered with wet blood and gunk, but with no wound. "I mean, these are guys who thought we might have a phone for 'em to use, so you can imagine how it went. The rest, I'on think the kids should hear."

"So, where are they now?" Carol asks.

"Two of 'em are in cell block C," He says, leaving me to wonder where the other three are. "It's a mess, but they agreed to stay."

I ain't sure how I feel about havin' neighbours in here. The prison is definitely more than big enough to share with them, but some neighbours are just better off dead, even if they give us dry corn and canned beef. It's not what Dale would've said, I know, and I think that's the reason Rick let them live. For now, at least. It's not as if they've threatened us, unlike that group of bandits he murdered last year.

Yes, the prisoners' leader did have his gun aimed at Rick's head, but Rick had one aimed at his, too.

"Hopefully they stay out of our way," She shrugs, though she doesn't look very happy. "Nothing else we can do."

"Don't worry. We're keepin' an eye on 'em," T-Dog reassures her.

"Well, I'm gonna go clean myself up," Rick announces, his exhaustion suddenly obvious. "I need a good sleep."

"Ditto," Dad groans.

That night, I think we all rest more than a little easier knowing that Herschel will survive.

My knife sinks into the soft meat of the walker's knee, the bone popping open as I twist the blade like a key.

It gives out a gurgling cry, gripping the fence with its blackened fingers as it falls to its knees, tonguing at the wire.

SQUELCH.

Stabbing it through the eye, the rotting lady's jaw goes slack, right before she slumps over and another walker replaces her.

"Nicely done." Dad says. He's making good on his promise to let us help clear the courtyard. "How many's that now, girl?"

"Eight," I pant.

He's standing a few feet down the fence from me, holding his hand over his brow and sneering against the glare of the sun. Behind him, Carl deftly drives his knife into the knee of a walker and then its head, pulling it out with a spray of blood.

In the background, Mouse is busy doing his own thing, sniffing weeds.

"Good. Make it ten." Dad approaches me and takes my knife from me, wiping it on his thigh. "And remember to keep this clean."

With the newly gunk-free blade, he swiftly kills the walker in front of me.

It drops to the ground.

"Like I said, it don't gotta be sparklin', but you don't want all that sticky shit dryin' on there and makin' it harder for you to pull out," He explains, handing it back to me. He watches me stab the knee of the next walker, breaking the bone. "That's it. Now the head."

Its face presses up against the fence, eye level with me, only managing half a growl before I stick the blade through its eye.

It's all the more satisfying when I imagine it's the walker that tackled me on the farm, or the one from the hospital, or the one from yesterday. It sure feels good being able to kill a thing that wants to kill me. With each kill, I'm gettin' better, faster, more accurate.

"And you, boy?" He calls over to Carl. "How many?"

As the walker in front of him collapses, the boy grins. "Ten. Guess I've mastered the class, huh, Daryl?"

"Ten?" I sass. "You lyin'."

"Make it twelve," Dad orders, wiping the smug look from his face. "Remember yer footin'. S'why you're stumblin' all over the place."

I can't help but snicker.

Dad unlocks the small gate as I cripple and take out one more walker, bringing me to ten kills, one for every one of my fingers.

Dad pulls his bandana over his head. One of the many walkers shuffles toward him, but before it can do any damage, he effortlessly lunges forward with the fabric and braces it between its teeth, dragging it into the courtyard and tying a knot behind its head.

As Mouse starts barking at it, I soothe, "Shh, boy. It's okay."

Dad kicks the gate closed, and with the walker angrily chewing on the bandana, he muscles it over to us.

"We're gonna practice without the fence."

I remember we did this a few months ago on the side of the highway when we were first learning how to properly kill walkers.

Until then, we only knew the basics — Aim for the head!

Now, he makes us practice every few days.

It's one of my favorite pastimes. Even better'un playin' soccer and ridin' our bikes!

"Y'all know the drill. It can't bite ya." He reassures us, the walker's thrashing no match for the strong grip he's got on it. "I'm gonna let it go and you're gonna take it down however you feel is best. But you wanna keep on its eight and four. Why ya gonna do that?"

"That's its blind spots," I recite. "And ya don't wanna get behind it, 'cause it might fall on ya."

"Easier to dodge," He agrees. "Harley, you're gonna go first. Carl, you get seconds. Hold the dog. Ready?"

Carl crouches, holding Mouse still. "Yep."

"Ready," I nod.

"I'm right here if things get messy." Dad shoves it forward. "Alright. Meathead, in the ring. Show 'im who's boss, girl."

The walker locks eyes with me.

Without anything to hold it back, it starts to clumsily stride toward me with purpose.

"You got this, Harley," Carl cheers, Mouse whining worriedly.

"I'mma kill it, Mousey," I reassure him. "It's okay."

Let's do it. Eight and four, eight and four. As soon as it's within arm's reach, I dodge it, ducking under its arm. Confused, it looks around, sniffing at the air to find out where I went because it's a fuckin' idiot. Rearing my knife back, I drive it into the back of its knee.

It stumbles drunkenly, landing on its stomach, but with my hands still wrapped around the knife, I fall with it.

Landing against its thigh, I grunt.

Mouse's whining gets louder.

"I'm here. Stay calm," Dad coaches me as Carl shushes the dog. "Get that knife out 'fore it gets back up."

Righting myself, I pull the blade out and crawl up to its head, stabbing the nape of its head.

Pink brains and blood leaks out.

It's dead!

As I stand back up, heart racing, Dad comes forward and starts untying his bandana from the walker's mouth.

"Good work," He says, shaking it out. "You know why you fell, right?"

"I ain't took the knife out quick enough. Pulled me down with it."

If I was up against any more walkers, they would'a piled on top of me while I's on the ground. Eaten alive, in Rick's words. Eugh.

Not a good pastime.

"Was only practice," He soothes, kissing my hair. "Next time, give it a bit of a wiggle and it'll free up quicker."

"Alright."

"You didn't warn us about us falling on them, Daryl," Carl jokes, releasing Mouse, who runs straight for me.

"Shut up, Carl," I smile, petting the dog's big snout. "It was only practice."

"Woohoo, Harley!"

We all look up at Glenn standing out in the field with Rick, grinning and holding a bunch of firewood.

"Good job!" Rick adds, waving.

Dad scoffs. "Didn't know we had an audience."

I cup my hands around my mouth. "Thanks!"

After that, Dad dresses up another walker for Carl to practice on. While he don't fall over like I did, he keeps nervously dancing around it like some sorta twinkle-toes ballerina, until my Dad's patience wears thin and he shouts at him to make a move, and he finally kills it.

SQUELCH.

"Alright," Dad says, "Back to work."

Fifteen, I count in my head, pulling my knife free, when the door behind us suddenly swings open.

What was that?

At first, I think it's more walkers spilling into the courtyard, but when I turn around, I see it's not walkers at all.

It's the prisoners.

The white guy with the ugly moustache and the black guy that wanted a phone to call his family.

That's them, emerging from the dark.

"Oh. H-Hey, guys," The shorter of the two greets us breathily, holding up his hands as the door shuts behind them. "Fancy se—"

"Back the Hell up!"

Dad's got his crossbow aimed at their heads before they can take a single step toward us, his finger curled around the trigger.

Mouse starts bark, bark, barking at them, but I lunge toward him, holding him back.

"Holy shit," The prisoner exclaims, looking like he's about to wet his jumpsuit, or cry, or both. "Man, w-we don't want no trouble."

If he ain't careful, he's gonna get an arrow to the head and a dog bite to the neck.

"What do you want?" Dad growls, blocking their view of me and Carl with his body. "Cell block weren't cozy enough for ya?"

"Please, mister. We know we had a deal," He begs. I ain't never heard nobody call my Dad, mister, before. He must really wanna get on our good side, but what he don't understand is that when it comes to strangers, we don't got no good side. "But you gotta understand! We can’t live in that place another minute, you follow me? All the bodies. People we knew. Blood. Brains everywhere. There’s ghosts!

Rick, Glenn, and T-Dog must have noticed all the commotion, rushing into the courtyard.

Frowning hard, Rick demands to know, "What's goin' on? Why're they out here?"

Lowering his crossbow, Dad sneers, "Fellers got cold feet, is what I'm hearin'."

"We just can't live like that," The taller one says. "We can't."

"Why don't'cha move the bodies out?"

As Glenn herds me and Carl behind him, T-Dog scoffs, "You ain't done that, yet? You should be burnin' them."

"We tried," The blonde blubbers.

"The fence is down on the far side of the prison." The other explains, making everybody share tense glances with each other. A downed fence ain't good at all, if we wanna fortify this place. "Every time we drag a body out, those things just pile up."

Well, that's what they're best at. Piling up. That, and bitin' into people like they's burgers.

It's a bible-level miracle these two ain't dead, yet.

"Look," The weaselly little man says, becoming even more antsy at our prolonged silence. "We had nothing to do with Tomas and Andrew. You tryna prove a point? Yeah? W— You proved it, bro! I swear, we’ll do whatever it takes to be part of your group!"

When he gestures to me and Mouse, Dad's hands twitch around his crossbow.

"You—? You got a dog? I mean, that's awesome," He puffs. "Clearly, you been doin' well for yourselves. What's his name?"

"Don't'chu fuckin' talk to my daughter, man," Dad scolds him.

"It's just, I love— We love dogs. I actually used to have a labrado—"

"Man, will you stop?" His friend tuts. "Have some balls."

Mouse gives a little huff.

He don't like 'em, neither.

"I'm just sayin'," He sighs, "I really, really, really don't wanna go back to that cell block again. Please don't make us."

"Our deal is non-negotiable," Rick replies coldly. "You either live in your cell block, or you leave. We have kids here."

"We ain't pedos, mister. Swear!"

"Jesus Christ," Glenn mutters under his breath, because this guy is embarrassing.

"We ain't here to test that theory out," Dad scowls.

Rick agrees, "You even think about steppin' into our cell block, and you can consider yourselves dead."

"You know, I told you this was a waste of time," The tall one scoffs, smart enough to ditch the begging route. "These guys ain’t no different than the pricks who shot up our boys. You know how many friends’ corpses we had to drag out this week? Just threw ‘em out-like. Those were good guys! Good guys who had our backs against the really bad dudes in this joint, like Tomas and Andrew!"

None of these guys were put in here for no reason.

Everybody used to say that only bad guys went to prison, but I never believed that. I saw the people I cared about be rounded into cop cars and driven away into the night more time than I cared to count, always watching the flashing lights disappear down the road while standing on the porch with Merle, shivering in the wind in my pyjamas. No, I knew it was only people the police ain't liked that went to prison.

Whether it was because they was murderers, or brawlers, or tax-dodgers; or if they had only given 'em a sour look.

My Dad, he was all'a those things, but it weren't no sour look that got him put in handcuffs in the end.

He ain't like Herschel and Dale. Ain't all good. He's nasty and he swears and he's killed people, but that's only part of him.

I feel a little bad for these two.

They're clueless, like babies. They don't even got a word for the walkers, yet. But I know that even though our group love my Dad for who he is, and they know he's been to prison, and that it don't make him all bad, they won't feel the same way for these two strangers.

The most important thing we have is each other.

I've seen first-hand what we do to anybody that threatens that.

"Now, we’ve all made mistakes to get in here, chief," The man continues uselessly. "And I’m not gonna pretend to be a saint, but believe me — We paid our due. Enough that we would rather hit the road, than to go back into that shithole for one more second."

He doesn't know he's just described to a T what's about to happen.

Rick levels them with an indifferent look. "Then you're on the road."

His face falls.

And it's probably not because he won't get to pet Mouse.

"We'll die out there."

Again, Rick shrugs.

Raising his crossbow once more, Dad herds them outta the courtyard and into the field.

Author's note.

I enjoyed writing this chapter! Probably because nothing bad happened. We have low standards here at Harley D. Dixon.

As always, I sincerely hope you enjoyed reading! 💙

@poetoflawed

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ardentwench · 1 year

Text

An expansion on this post about Steve and Eddie drunkenly eloping via an underground pastor at a pride event the same day they get together.

(If anyone wants to write anything inspired by this or the original post please do)

It’s 1990 and Steve, Eddie, and Robin end up visiting NY for xyz reason and when they hear about a Pride event they take the opportunity to go. They have fun, get emotional, somehow bond even more. Steve and Eddie have been teetering on the verge of something for what might be years now, the unspoken slow burn of falling in love with a close friend finally getting acknowledged, putting words and actions to the tension between them. They get invited to some more hidden low key community events to follow up the main event.

They get wasted, Robin gets distracted by some fellow lesbians. She gets Steve to let her slip away for a bit, insists that she’ll stay safe and believes Steve and Eddie can handle themselves without her for awhile, perhaps they could take the time to focus on this new evolution in their relationship.

When one of her new friends drags her to where a small excitable gathering is she doesn’t expect to see Steve and Eddie stepping up to the front of the scene. She can’t press herself through the crowd fast enough to interrupt the basement ceremony happening ahead of her. The audience is too loud in their catcalls for her to even make out much of what makeshift vows her friends are sharing but she can hear just enough to know some of it must sound absurd and hyperbolic to anyone paying close enough attention. She makes it to the front in time to see the swoon worthy kiss of a finale before the boys are gently guided to the side and gifted a Polaroid picture as the next couple falls into place in front of the pastor as he puts himself on the line to help same sex couples feel recognized in their commitment to each other.

She drags a giddy Steve and Eddie to a motel a few streets away, manages to keep them safely off each other long enough to snag a couple rooms, doesn’t even attempt to suggest they sleep apart and instead finds minimal sanctuary on the other side of a worryingly thin wall.

The next day they seem to remember all the important details and neither seem mortified with regret which is a big relief to Robin but there’s a stretch of awkward tension through the makeshift breakfast in her room before they checkout where they seem to be trying to get a footing for how to proceed with each other as boyfriends, let alone as unlawfully wedded spouses.

A couple jokes between the three of them and things start feeling more natural, less tense. Steve and Eddie make a few jokes about spousal privilege, Robin playfully laments she hasn’t even had an official girlfriend yet while Steve’s already snagged a husband. Steve counters with how to be fair he and Eddie had only got together a scant 6 hours prior to eloping and never officially used labels so would it really count as him having a boyfriend before her a girlfriend? And if that’s the case she can still brag about that since he won’t ever get to have a boyfriend since he’s married and all now.

It should be a joke but Robin knows Steve, reads the expression on his face, the inflection in his voice. She catches the way Eddie is eyeing him with heart eyes that reflect too much love and adoration and not enough humor for the joke it should be. She doesn’t miss the way he doesn’t make his own quick witted remark to correct or deflect Steve’s assertion. They don’t talk about it in further depth that day, or the rest of the trip.

When they return to their shared three bedroom home life continues in a way Robin assumed it would once her friends figured things out, the boys are more affectionate in a way that would be unbearable if it wasn’t so sweet and slowly one of their bedrooms becomes unused. There’s occasional references and inside jokes that crop up about the elopement but Robin lets it slide for quite awhile after, glad to see her two pining idiot friends are finally happily together. Within the codependency she has with Steve is a constant twist of protective concern and if she lets herself overthink too often she knows she’ll only spiral among a feedback loop of negativity.

It’s when the comments and jokes about marriage and husbands don’t peter out but instead morph into more casual comments that live on the side of too authentic for Robins comfort that the suspicions she’d felt turns to anxious worry that she stops ignoring.

The shiny new rings given to them for the ceremony are still in place on their fingers in a way that really only stands out on Steve’s normally unadorned hand. He gets offended when she suggests he moves it to a chain or something, quips about what kind of husband she must think he is before he gets quiet and swiftly changes the subject when her answer is a fake husband.

It’s 6 months after the trip to NY and Steve is pondering out loud to Robin, which is nothing new, but he’s going on about if it’s tacky to celebrate a 6 month wedding anniversary and how those expectations might differ between dating and marriage. She knows he’s more musing to himself than expecting a response from her but she can’t help the way she eventually explodes on him in frustration born from her concerns that he’s in too deep, too fast.

She suggests that maybe he’s taking the joke too far. He admits it doesn’t feel like a joke. She wants reassurance that he’s not just deluding himself, that the feeling is at least mutual. Steve is too insecure to speak for Eddie since they haven’t explicitly talked about it. They do mutually call each other husbands as a term of endearment and aren’t shy about voicing their love, but a lot of things just haven’t felt necessary to voice. Things just feel right in a way Steve isn’t sure he’s ever felt before. He gets why it sounds insane to want to take their elopement seriously but he thought if anyone would support him wanting to hold onto their opportunity to marry the love of their life, lawfully or not, it would be her.

Robin isn’t so easily reassured. She worries that Steve has fallen victim to playing out his youthful domestic fantasy to the point he’s speed running things and it could be to the detriment of his relationship and his future. She just doesn’t want him to get hurt. Her anxiety runs through all sort of reasons it’s a bad idea. And she lists them off in a near panicked ramble.

He’s young, the relationship is still new, they haven’t even been together a year. How is he sure Eddie is the love of his life? Wouldn’t he have said that about Nancy when he was with her? Has he considered if the trauma bonding is affecting his judgment? He really only came to terms with his sexuality a year ago. He hasn’t decided on his direction in life yet between college or a career. What happened to focusing on finding himself? What if he misses opportunities to find his true potential because he’s prioritizing playing house?

She was the only who knew about their drunken vows, there wasn’t any evidence besides the blurry Polaroid they’d been handed but when she couldn’t ignore the unsettled feelings about the situation she had turned to talking them through as vaguely as possible with Nancy, someone logical and sensible who also knew enough of Steve’s baggage to give some sort of informed insight as she vented.

Steve had been able to handle listening to Robins spiral of doubt, even as it bordered on lecturing, because he knew it came from a place of care and concern as she struggled to understand this discrepancy in their usually compatible logic. But when Robin begins sounding less like herself and more like she’s quoting from memory he doesn’t let her continue.

Robin ends up saying something that sounds just like Nancy and Bullshit. Suggesting Steve might care about being wanted in a relationship more than he did the reality of the relationship, implying every fast track couple was doomed to the fate of Ted and Karen Wheeler’s unhappy marriage or Joyce and Lonnie’s inevitable divorce. She alludes to his abandonment issues, his struggles with self esteem, and his lack of self preservation, as if they might have something to do with why he would want to honor his inebriated spontaneous illegal marriage instead of doing the more sensible and safe route.

Once he’s realized she’s actually been talking to Nancy about him he gets upset. He’s hurt and affronted and as much as he was willing to give Robin some allowance to judge him she had taken her lack of faith in him and in his relationship with Eddie too far. Knowing she’d gone behind his back to talk about him and Eddie to his ex girlfriend and had came out with such negative conclusions and assumptions made him feel raw and defensive. He lets his inner high school bitch take the wheel and watches Robin deflate as he begins correcting her where she’s overstepped.

He’s unable to stop some bitter self deprecation from slipping through when he tells her he might not be the smartest and may not be going many places, or making plans to do big things with his life, but that shouldn’t matter. Not everyone wants to make a difference to the world on a grander and more public scale than secretly saving the world repeatedly from the Upside Down. Not everyone’s priorities are to escape their hometown as soon as possible to disappear into a big city or learn it all at big fancy schools. The only opportunity he currently cares about missing is embracing the direction life will take him and Eddie together, and who they can grow to be while alongside each other. And maybe his aspirations seem lacking to someone as smart and talented as her and Nancy but he’s happy and content in a way he can’t recall ever experiencing, not even with Nancy. And maybe it’d be nice if his best friend didn’t suggest it was all bullshit or insinuate he was an idiot for wanting to keep that feeling alive and strong. There’s more he says but he doesn’t stick around for Robin to respond.

Eddie shows up in time to overhear something that could be taken out of context before Steve storms off but instead of assuming the worst and miscommunication dragging out the ordeal he actually checks on Steve and they communicate via a healthy discussion and Eddie confirms he is just as stupidly invested in Steve and meant every word of his vows too. At first Steve had tried pulling away when Eddie comes to him, Robin (and Nancy’s) words getting to his insecurities and stirring doubt where there’d previously been none. Eddie easily reassures him. Despite not being particularly religious he married Steve under God by the power of a badass rebel pastor and they didn’t need government approval or fancy paperwork or even their friends approval for it to be real.

Robin went to apologize to Steve and Eddie but accidentally eavesdrops which makes her feel even worse for doubting Eddie’s level of seriousness about Steve or that Steve couldn’t handle his own relationship and life, realizing that maybe if she hadn’t been so caught up projecting her own insecurities onto the situation she may of realized Steve and Eddie deserved more credit for understanding each other than she had initially been willing to give them. She does end up apologizing and Steve appreciates it even though he can admit he would of probably stressed out and made an ass of himself over Robin eloping so quickly as well.

For their 6 month anniversary they take the opportunity to get the kids together while everyone is still available. Eddie slips into one of his showy rants against the government and why some laws were better broken, ending it with the declaration that he and Steve being together is a prime example of how worth it some laws are to ignore. Most of the party roll their eyes, used to Eddie’s passionate spiels and gushing about Steve, something that’s only got worse since they returned from NY and were caught being borderline indecent at Joyce and Hoppers wedding reception. Steve had blamed it on their new relationships own honeymoon phase.

Mike who was hanging on Eddies words wrinkles his nose and points out in confusion that sodomy wasn’t illegal in Indiana. This gains everyones attention on him and he flushes, pointing out in his defense that he was just saying it wasn’t exactly illegal for Steve and Eddie to be dating like Eddie implied. The kids rush to tease Mike for just blurting something like that out despite the context until Eddie cuts in to correct the misconception that him and Steve are dating.

This immediately quiets everyone, confused and a little concerned they glance between their two older friends and Steve struggles to keep his face neutral. Beside him Robin shoves her own face in a book in an attempt to hide her own poor poker face. Almost simultaneously Max and Dustin both break the silence, rushing to get clarification and talking over each other as they ask what that means. Steve’s a bit surprised by the amount of hackles raising around the room at the simple statement. Max and Dustin especially looked prepared to follow through on previous shovel talks if necessary, hanging onto every word of Eddie insisting insists him and Steve aren’t boyfriends. They’re just shy of becoming feral as they try to make sense of the situation when Steve finally feels pity and casually chimes it that while sodomy isn’t outlawed same sex marriage is illegal, and yet…

There’s a moment of confused quiet that falls over the room only broken by Dustin huffing exasperatedly until Will lets out an almost involuntary sounding Oh. He’s all wide eyed and pink around the cheeks even before everyone focuses on him and Steve knows Will’s clocked the truth when he sees the way he’s looking at Steve’s ring finger. Will finally meets his eye and offers a hesitant congratulations. It’s only another bated breath before the kids stir with the revelations as their genius minds catch up to the insinuations.

They clarify for El how they eloped and what it meant, how they refuse to let the government dictate their use of matrimonial vows, holy or unholy. Eddie preens under the ability to brag about Steve agreeing to become his unlawfully wedded husband. Steve was prepared for someone to voice skepticism but when he hears Mike through the excited chatter grumbling about not understanding Eddie’s poor choices it means a lot for Robin to be the first to quickly shut it down, a chorus of vocal support following her lead.

#steddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve/eddie #really hope I was awake enough for this to make sense since I came up with it as I went #this is basically just a skeleton to a fic I’ll never write

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the-fiction-witch · 2 months

Text

Captured P2

Media - The Maze Runner Series AU X Breath of the Wild (Zelda) Character - Newt Couple - Newt X Reader Reader - Y/n Rating - Smutty discussions Word Count - 1573

Slowly they went back to the camp their two little tents sat by the fire he built before leaving, Y/n sat in front of her tent clutching Newt's shirt

Newt went to sit down by the fire as well, his face still slightly red from earlier as he kept his gaze away from Y/n, who was still only wearing his shirt. He couldn’t help but glance over towards her, his eyes tracing over the shape that her body made in the shirt

The silence continued as the sunset. Newt quietly looked over to her every now and then. He thought about speaking but didn’t know what to say. Everything that had just happened still weighed heavily on him. Not to mention the fact that she was still only wearing his shirt…

"I can't believe it..."

He looks over at her, an eyebrow raised at her comment. “Huh? W-What do you mean?”

".I... I... I came. From that."

Newt’s eyes widen, his face turning a little red at her comment. He tried to keep a straight face, but he wasn’t fully doing so. “Oh… y-yea… I um… I noticed.”

"What are you talking about?"

He swallows before replying, trying to hide the redness on his cheeks “When we were walking back… I noticed some… stuff… running down your legs…”

"I didn't want to... It was horrible, terrifying, I thought they would eat me... I... I can't believe I..."

He frowns, feeling guilty for how selfishly he had been thinking. Here she was, sitting there scared and feeling disgusted by what had just happened to her… and he was sat enjoying it “Hey… you don’t need to be ashamed about that. It was a… natural response… it’s not like you could’ve helped it…”

"but I still did! maybe it's different for guys or something but I... I have only ever been able to make myself do that, and even then it's complicated and... I did it... Multiple times... Because of them!"

He swallows, knowing that he shouldn’t feel the way he does about her saying that. She was clearly upset and uncomfortable with what had happened, and yet part of him kept feeling some level of excitement. “I… I know, but like I said it’s not your fault. You were forced into that position, you couldn’t have controlled yourself…”

"... I can't thank you enough Newt, you hadn't come along, they'd have come back out when the Fokka was gone and... Who knows where it would have ended"

He shakes his head. “You don’t need to thank me. I didn’t do alot… I just got really lucky stumbling into that camp. Anyone else would’ve done the same.” He takes a pause for a moment “If anything I…” He cuts himself off before he could say anything he shouldn’t

she moved closer laying her head on his shoulder "Thank you Newt"

He looks over to her as she lays her head on his shoulder, his face reddening slightly at her small gesture. He swallowed and nodded “Of course… what are mates for…”

"mhm" she nodded "can I ask you something?"

He gives a nod in response “Of course. Ask away.”

"would you share my tent tonight? I'm a bit scared to sleep alone"

His heart skipped a beat at the request. He wasn’t expecting her to ask that. He swallowed before replying, trying to sound as casual as possible, “Oh-uh… sure… I don’t mind…”

"thanks, Newt" she smiled

He smiles back with a nod. He really had to try and calm himself down and behave. He didn’t expect to suddenly be sharing her tent that night, but there was no way he was going to turn down the offer, especially with her being so vulnerable still. he crossed his legs as they sat by the fire doing his best to conceal... What was still lingering. He did his best to focus on staying calm. He fiddled with the grass below him to try and distract himself, not wanting her to notice his ‘little issue’

The night slowly dragged on, the sun going down and making way for the moon to rise. Newt was quiet during this time, still fiddling with the grass. When the sky was dark enough, he finally spoke up “Maybe we should head to bed…”

she nodded as she had been almost asleep on his shoulder "my tent or yours?"

He swallowed, trying to sound cool and casual during this. Inside, he was really excited by the prospect of sharing her tent, but he kept that feeling down. “Yours, if that’s okay…”

she nodded and began to crawl across the grass into her tent, as she does this in only his shirt as she crawled away he saw her whole backside and exposed pussy,

Newt had to stop himself from staring at her. It took all of his internal power to focus his gaze forwards, trying to avoid looking at that. He sat in his spot a little longer, trying to calm himself down before slowly standing and walking to the tent entrance, “I’m coming in, okay?”

"I guess so"

He slowly crawls into the tent, sitting down and pulling the entrance closed behind him. He sits in an awkward silence for a moment before speaking up again, “So… what side of the tent do you want to sleep on?”

"I'm not bothered whichever you this safer"

He nods and shuffles over to lay down on the left side of the tent, closest to the opening. As he lays down, he can feel some sort of excitement bubble within him. He was sharing a tent with her… and she was barely wearing anything

she nodded and laid down beside him, the two nose to nose given the smallness of the tent

He laid there, his face inches away from hers. The closeness made him a little self-conscious. He desperately tried to will away the thoughts running through his mind so she didn’t notice his excitement at being so close

"... Newt?"

He jolts up a little, hearing her say his name “Y-Yeah?”

"can we talk? Just a little?" she whispered almost pillow talk

He swallows, a little worried about what she was going to bring up. He nods and stays laying down, his eyes locked to hers “Yeah… we can talk…”

"you first"

He thinks for a moment. There was alot he wanted to talk about, and even more that he didn’t want to admit. There was a certain topic on his mind though… “Uhm… you know I was being honest before when I said you should be ashamed about what those things… did to you… right?”

"I should?" She asked

He nods “Mhm. I was being serious. You shouldn’t feel ashamed in anyway about what happened. It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t want it… it’s not like you could do much in that situation…”

"I guess so, I don't know. Maybe if I'd kept focus or something I wouldn't have... You know"

He shakes his head “Even if you had “kept focus”, you would’ve been overwhelmed either way… by both the amount of Moblins and the amount of… stimulation…” He tries to pick his words carefully as he says that last part

she nodded "it was alot of stimulation..."

A small blush creeps onto his cheeks, listening to her word it like that. He swallowed silently as he thought of what to say next There was definitely a part of him that wanted to take advantage of this situation… to take advantage of the fact that she was in his shirt, laying next to him… but he tried to stay focussed “So you… you don’t need to feel ashamed just because of how you responded. No one would’ve expected you to be able to keep control of yourself in a situation like that…”

"you think you would?"

He swallows. It was a trick question, and he knew it. If he said yes, he’d admit that it was on his mind. But if he said no he’d admit he was weaker than her. He had to stay firm in his answer, regardless of how it made him look “Of course I don’t think I’d be able to keep control of myself. I wouldn’t lie to you about that…”

she nodded "... Newt, how much did you see?"

He knew what she meant by that, and almost immediately he felt embarrassed. He swallowed before speaking again, quietly “…Alot… I saw quite a bit…”

"did you... Like watching me or something?"

He swallowed before replying, knowing that he was caught “Y-yeah… I think I did… I know I shouldn’t… but I just couldn’t look away…”

she nodded silently a minute

He felt horrible admitting that to her. He thought she might get angry at him for staring, for enjoying her misfortune… but she didn’t say anything, she just nodded “You’re… not mad at me for that… are you?”

she moved closing the gap and giving his lips a tender kiss "Goodnight Newt"

He gasped softly once he felt her lips on his. His eyes widened in surprise, not at all expecting that. After a moment the surprise passed, and he kissed back gently, feeling a blush on his face as she pulled away “G-goodnight… Y/n…”

she turned onto her other side her back facing him as she tries to sleep in his shirt

He laid back down on his side of the tent, his heart still beating a little fast from her kiss. He watched the back of her head for a moment, seeing her hair fall over her shoulder as she laid on her side. He couldn’t believe that she wasn’t upset with him for all of this. Slowly he closed his eyes, trying to finally fall asleep

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in-search-of-a-fallen-star · 9 months

Text

at the last stroke of midnight (pt. 4)

Pairing: Shouto Todoroki/Reader

WC: 2,228

Content warnings: aged up characters, everyone is in their 20s or older. fantasy au. no pronouns used for reader, but they are described to wear skirts and are referred to as ‘my lady’. brief descriptions of fantasy violence, brief mention of blood.

part 3 : part 4 (you are here) : part 5

Your hand tingles for the rest of the night. The bells ring out soon after your knight left you standing under the willow, summoning you to your duties. The queen raises an eyebrow at your damp clothes and hair, but doesn’t say anything, as much as you know she wants to.

Not that she really has a chance to. The evening is as much of a spectacle as the rest of the day, ending in a feast while a troupe of circus performers put on a show in the great hall. You’re able to watch most of it from your position next to the queen, only missing parts of it as you run errands back and forth to fill her plate or cup. Your favorite act is the illusion mage, who ends the show with a massive display of illusory fireworks that fill the great hall with light and sound.

During the fireworks display, your eyes meet the varicolored gaze of your knight, seated in the victor’s chair. You’ve felt his eyes on you all throughout dinner, but have been steadfastly ignoring his gaze, choosing to focus on your duties instead. Every time you think of him, a storm of butterflies erupts in your stomach, and your mind keeps bringing up the image of his face as he’d so earnestly asked you to accept the circlet.

When your gazes met under the dancing lights of the illusory fireworks, he mouths one word at you. You’re not especially skilled at reading lips, but you’d seen those same lips form that same word just a few hours ago.

Beautiful.

You choose to believe that he’s talking about the fireworks, but a part of you, the part responsible for the racing of your heart and the butterflies in your stomach, tells you that he’s talking about you instead.

This is so hard, you lament to yourself as you stand beside the queen while she thanks all of the nobles for coming. Just a few hours ago you’d been ready to write off the attentions of your knight as nothing more than a passing fancy, and had been ready to move on, but then he’d sought you out and honored your silly promise.

He’d looked so happy when you finally accepted the circlet from him too, and even more pleased when you’d confessed to calling him ‘your knight’. You feel a bit of hope stirring in your heart that he might feel something for you. After all, he walked in on you using your magic and hadn’t even made a passing comment. Instead, he’d put the circlet on your head. You know that he’d been talking about the circlet when he’d said it, but in that moment you had felt beautiful. Your cheeks warm at the memory, and you will the flush away. You’re still on duty, you chide yourself. There will be time to think it over later.

The rest of the evening goes smoothly. The queen finishes her goodbyes, at which point it’s quite late. “I think I’d like to retire for the evening,” she says, gesturing for you to follow her. You fall in step behind her, head bowed demurely. The routine of your duties is comforting, and you fall into old habits as you help her out of her heavy gown and begin the process of taking down her hair and brushing it for the evening.

She waits until you’re braiding her hair for sleep before she asks. “That knight who won the tournament was asking after you, you know. Did he ever find you?”

Your hands stop moving, and you look away from her knowing gaze in the mirror. She waits patiently, knowing grey eyes watching you as you scramble for a response.

“We, ah, met,” you say, returning to your work, deliberately not looking up.

“I’m glad,” she says evenly. “He was quite desperate to find you, you know. Did he end up giving you the prize?”

Your head shoots up, meeting her eyes. “How did you know that?”

“Oh, dear,” she says softly, turning in her chair to grasp your hand. “Did he not tell you? It’s customary for the winner of the tournament to give the prize to the person they wish to attend the ball with.”

“What?” you squeak, dropping her unfinished braid. It unravels in a snowy waterfall in front of you, but you don’t see it, mind whirling. “No, he left that part out.”

“I’m sorry, I should have told you,” she apologizes, clasping your hand between her cool hands. “I forgot this is your first festival here. I’ll have to talk to him later.”

“Do you know him?” you ask.

She pauses for a second. “No,” she says carefully.

“Do you at least know his name? He was called away before he could tell me, and now I can’t even find him,” you plead.

“I can’t tell you his name, but I have a good idea where to find him,” she muses. “He should be at the training yard tomorrow morning with some of the other knights. Why? What are you going to do?”

“If he’s going to ask me to the ball, he should at least have the balls to do it properly,” you grouse. “Apologies for the language, your majesty. I’m going to shove that circlet back in his face and tell him that if he can’t ask me directly, I’m not going.”

Rei laughs, turning back in her chair to face the mirror as you pick her hair back up and resume your task. “Be gentle with the poor boy,” she asks, looking amused. “He probably assumed you knew what it meant.”

“What is it you told me about assuming, your majesty? Something about how it makes an ass out of you?”

“Fair point,” she concedes.

You tie off her braid and lay it over her shoulder for her to inspect. “If that’s all, your majesty,” you say, bowing politely.

“Good night, dear. Good luck tomorrow,” she says, standing up from her chair. “I look forward to you telling me how it goes.”

You excuse yourself with a curtsy and make your way back to your room. The circlet gleams at you from its place on the vanity when you open the door, and you make your way over to pick it up. It really is a beautiful thing. You’ve never owned something so nice, and you already are facing the prospect of giving it back.

You steel yourself. He should have made his intentions clear, you decide. What would have happened if you hadn’t been told the significance, and with less than a day to spare too? The ball is tomorrow night. Your presence is required as the queen’s lady in waiting, and you had planned on spending the evening stuck to the buffet table, definitely not dancing.

Sleep does not come easy. You lie awake, tossing and turning, multiple scenarios running through your head. Finally, late into the night as the moon is high in the sky, you fall asleep.

The next morning, you take time getting dressed. You have the morning off- Princess Fuyumi and the queen eat breakfast together on these days, and prefer to be left undisturbed. You take the time thinking over what you want to say to your knight. The queen’s request echoes in your mind. She asked you to be gentle with him, but it doesn’t feel like there’s a gentle way to say what’s on your mind.

He’ll probably be fine, you muse. You had threatened to bite him the first time you met him, after all, and he’d come back after that. The best strategy is to be honest, you decide.

Mind made up, you grab the circlet from the vanity and leave your room. It’s a short walk to the training grounds, where you hear the sound of voices, accompanied by the clash of metal. There are only a few people in the training grounds, and most of them are cooling off at the water barrels stationed around the arena.

Taking a deep breath, you approach the first figure you see, a tall man clad in black trousers and a sleeveless black shirt, polishing the haft of a large hammer. He doesn’t look up as you approach, ignoring you until you speak to him.

“Excuse me?” you ask, trying to get his attention.

“Yeah, whaddya want?” he answers, not taking his eyes off his work.

“I’m looking for a knight who fought in the tournament yesterday.”

“A lot of us fought in the tournament yesterday. You’re gonna have to be more specific than that.”

“He had red and white hair, and a scar over his left eye?”

The blond man squints at you. “Tch. Figures you wanna talk to him. Oi, icy hot,” he yells, not moving from his spot. “Some fuckin’ extra wants to talk to you.”

Movement catches your eye as someone exits the armory. You catch a glimpse of the now familiar red and white hair as you turn to look, before you notice.

He’s not wearing a shirt.

Your eyes trace the strong lines of his chest, down the firm abdomen, and the v of his adonis belt, catching on the fine tracing of hair that disappears into the band of his trousers. The muscles glisten with a fine sheen of sweat in the late morning sun, and you feel your mouth water.

“It’s good to see you again, my lady,” he says, voice low and tinged with amusement.

You quickly snap your eyes up to his face. He’s watching you with a faint smirk, his shirt held loosely in one hand.

You thrust the circlet out towards him, and the amusement quickly fades from his face. “What’s this for?” he asks, keeping his hands at his sides.

“I didn’t know what it meant, when you gave it to me the first time,” you explain, gesturing for him to take the circlet from you. “If you’re not just honoring some silly promise and you really want me to go to the ball with you, ask me again. Properly, this time.”

He takes the circlet from you, his hands gentle. “I’m not sure if I can ask you properly here,” he says.

Your heart sinks. You take a step back, ready to flee.

“I’d want to ask you over dinner, preferably with flowers,” he continues, reaching out for you. “Definitely not while sweaty and surrounded by dirt and grime.”

“If you’re just gonna flirt, take it elsewhere, icy hot. You’re making me gag,” the blond grumbles, glaring up at your knight. “Get it over with and leave.”

Your knight wraps cool fingers around your wrist, his gentle grip stilling your movements. “Let me be perfectly clear about my intentions, this time. I accepted your deal because I knew from the first word you spoke to me, I wanted you to go with me. Please, will you give me the honor of your company this evening?”

You can only look at him. His face is so open, his eyes earnest as he looks at you. His long fingers squeeze your wrist gently, as if he’s holding himself back from pulling you closer.

“Yes,” you breathe, sliding your hand in his grip to twine your fingers with his.

His shoulder sag with relief, and he uses your twined hands to slowly pull you into his orbit. You can smell him, this close. Underneath the scent of sweat and metal is the warm smell of a campfire, and a note of pine trees in winter. You sway closer to him, drawn in by his scent and the heat of his body.

You tilt your face up to his. He really is beautiful, this close. Your eyes drop to his lips- you know how soft they are, and you can’t help but wonder how they would feel pressed against your own.

“Not here,” he breathes, and you can feel the air move against your lips. “I want to do this properly.”

He squeezes your hand and takes a half step back, putting space between you two. “I look forward to seeing you tonight, my lady.”

Before he can walk away, you reach out and grab his arm, stilling his movement. “Wait. You have to tell me your name.”

His face pinches, a furrow appearing on his brow before it smooths out. “I suppose that’s only fair,” he says. “My name is Shouto.”

“Like the prince?” you squint up at him.

“Yes, like the prince.” He huffs a laugh, but there’s a cautious look on his face.

“It’s a good thing he’s away from court right now then,” you muse. “I imagine it would be confusing, for both the prince and the tournament winner to have the same name.”

The blond next to you barks out a laugh. Shouto grimaces and grabs your hand again, pulling you to the entrance of the training grounds.

“I must apologize in advance, my lady. I have duties to attend to at the beginning of the ball, so I will not be able to escort you in. I hope you’ll save a dance for me?” he asks, voice hopeful.

“It’s going to be crowded. How will you find me?”

“Don’t worry, my lady.” He brings your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “I would find you anywhere.”

#todoroki shouto x reader #shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki x you #my hero x reader #todoroki shouto #my hero academia #ves.writes

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nicascurls · 3 months

Text

Breaking The Dollhouse - Chapter Five

Word Count: 1.6K

Summary: What would have happened if Junior survived and was taken by Tiffany from the hospital? What would that mean for Junior and Nica over the next year?

Notes: I'm sorry, this ended up taking way longer than I expected, I had a fair few personal issues that set me back.

Tags: @barclaysangel @fairchilds-glasses @streets-in-paradise @high-functioning-fang1rl @thedreemer-artrequestsopen

Nica leaned back against the propped up pillows of the bubblegum pink bed, defeated but still watching the locked door the whole time. It’s not like it was the first time she couldn’t sleep in that place. She had lost count of the amount of nights she struggled to sleep during that first month with Tiffany, often only falling asleep after hours of sobbing about her, what she then believed to be, missing limbs. Even after that there were nights where experiences would merge in her mind, the locked doors of that room feeling entirely too similar to the locked doors of her rooms at Harrogate and Lochmoor. Nights, where the fear got so bad Nica didn’t dare close her eyes out of fear of the door opening to reveal Doctor Foley.

But, somehow, this was worse. The dread and fear was unmeasurable. Junior hadn’t come to her room for the past two nights, ever since she told him the truth about his mother’s death, he was barely speaking during the day either. Simply enough for Tiffany to not grow suspicious or question anything and it was tearing Nica apart to not have a real chance to check in with him. It was clear that Junior wasn’t doing well, he looked exhausted, far more than just because of the heart episode. Nica doubts he has slept more than a couple of hours a night since then and she can remember the exhaustion that those episodes cause, she would often spend the next day in bed or lying on the couch when she was at home and Junior won’t even allow himself to lean back on the couch and won’t except any of Tiffany’s offers for snacks. She wants to help him so badly, but she can’t lose the feeling that Junior is like this because of her actions. What if he doesn’t want to talk to her again? She can’t leave him in this place! She has to find a way for him to trust her enough that she can get him out of this damn house and back to his friends and cousin.

It was almost 3am now and she’s debating allowing herself to fall asleep for the night, Junior would have come in by now if he was going to. Besides, if he did she would wake up to the sound of him picking the lock anyway.

‘Unless you don’t…’ the all too familiar voice suggested, ‘There’s gotta still be some of that drug in ya system. Ya definitely weren’t very aware when you were drugged in the booby hatch…’

Nica squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, as if she hoped blocking her vision would also block Chucky from being heard. But she knew that wasn’t the case. She just tried to focus on her breathing, slowly opening her eyes and counting her fingers one by one. Any task to keep her alert and help her remember what is real and what isn’t.

She’s trapped in Tiffany Valentine’s house. Real, and bad.

But it means she got out of Harrogate. Real, good.

She isn’t crazy and she didn’t kill her family. Real, also good.

Her entire family is dead. Real and awful.

The man who murdered them is currently possessing her. Real and terrifying.

She has Junior, she isn’t alone. Real. Thank the gods that’s real, and she is going to find a way for him to escape.

If- No, when he talks to her again.

Fuck it. He’s in the same damn house, she has to at least try and talk to him, be there for him, support him.

With that, Nica quickly transferred herself over to her chair and made her way to the locked doors. There must be something in this damn room she can use to pick the lock. She turned to scan her environment for anything useful when there was a sudden noise coming from the other side of the door followed by the rattle of the handles. Nica was able to snap out of her panic induced trance and hurriedly return to her position on the bed before one of the doors tentatively opened and Nica sat up again.

Junior.

Nica didn’t dare move any further, as if Junior was a scared kitten and would immediately change his mind and retreat back to where he emerged from. She simply gave him an encouraging smile.

Junior couldn’t handle it, he was so ready to be lectured, yelled at, told he was being childish but of course Nica wouldn’t do that. She’s already forgiven him. He simply lets out a small sob before practically launching himself into the woman’s arms.

“I’m sorry.” he choked out, “I’m so so sorry.” Nica immediately holds him tighter, quietly shushing him as she rubs his back. She had so much to tell him but she knew he needed a chance to let out everything he had been keeping in for the past few days first, for now she simply responds with, “You have nothing to apologise for Junbug. You did nothing wrong.”

It felt as if Junior was fighting to breathe, as if all the emotions and thoughts from the past days had burst through and were swiftly drowning him and the only thing keeping him afloat was Nica.

Once Junior’s breathing began to slow down, he dared to move back enough to be able to face Nica.

“But I did! I did do something wrong! I helped the person who killed my mom for fuck sake! He killed other people because of me!”

“Oh, honey, no.” Nica immediately reached out to place a hand on his arm. “You can’t blame yourself for that. You were hurting and he manipulated you. That certainly doesn’t make you a bad person.” Junior still couldn’t look at her.

“Mom would be disappointed in me.” It was barely a whisper when he said it, Nica shakes her head slightly in response.

“I don't believe that…”

“Dad did.” Junior couldn’t stop his voice from breaking as he spoke, a few more tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Oh, Junior..” Nica immediately pulled him back into a hug, stroking his hair. “Is that why you didn’t come here for a few days?”

“I- I thought I deserved to be alone.”

Nica's heart might as well have shattered as she heard that, in fact, she’s not entirely sure that it didn’t. Her poor boy truly believed he deserved to be isolated from everyone because he was manipulated when he was grieving.

“Honey, no one deserves that and certainly not you.” She hesitated as Junior looked up at her, wearing a sceptical expression despite the tears still on his cheeks. “Okay. Mostly no one deserves that, but still not you. Never you.” Junior chuckled slightly as he wiped away the remaining tears with his sleeve.

“It sounds stupid now, but I had kind of been expecting you to be mad at me for ignoring you.”

It was Nica’s turn to chuckle then, “Not at all, Junior. Honestly, I thought you were mad at me, not that I would blame you. It was a horrible thing to tell you.”

“I’m really grateful you did though. It was such a painful thing to find out but… At least I know that mom didn’t want to die now.”

Nica gently places a hand over Junior’s cheek, guiding him to look at her, “I know I didn’t know your mom, but I've heard enough to know without a doubt that she loved you and would certainly have never chosen to leave you like that.”

“I- I had thought it was because of my dad cheating. I know it sounds bad, but even though I know that Tiffany was messing with my mind, I still think he cheated at some point. The way he would ignore mom-” He could feel himself getting mad and in an instant Nica’s hands were rubbing the top of his arms.

“Deep breaths, baby. Your body is most likely still recovering, it was a pretty intense episode you had and something tells me you haven’t been resting.”

Junior looked down sheepishly and directed all his attention to his breathing, “Not really,” he mumbled, “I couldn’t sleep.”

“And how much have you had to eat recently?”

“Not much”

Nica gave him a soft smile, “I thought that might be the case. There’s still snacks under the bed, help yourself, okay?”

The two prisoners spent the next hour catching up on any thoughts they hadn’t been able to share with each other over the past few days and they made their way through the remaining snacks. Nica herself only nibbled her food to make sure that Junior consumed far more, he needed it after all. Junior’s eyes had already begun to close by the time he had eaten his full, Nica was also struggling to stay awake. The worries that had been keeping her going the past few days had slowly evaporated the more time she spent with Junior again.

“Come on,” she uttered softly as she moved the remaining snacks back under the bed, “We should both try and get some rest.” She immediately saw Junior’s eyes widen at the idea of being alone again, “You can stay here if you want, Junbug.”

“Yes please.” Junior was already covering himself with a blanket as he lay down and Nica soon followed his example before turning off the bedside lamp.

“Nica…” Junior whispered into the dark.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. I just wanted to thank you.”

“For what?”

“Not being mad at me, telling me the truth- Just everything.”

“That’s what I'm here for, okay honey?”

“Okay.”

“Good. Now let's get some sleep. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Nica.”

#chucky #chucky 2021 #child's play #chucky syfy #nica pierce #junior wheeler #breaking the dollhouse #chucky fanfiction

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