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in-superbloom · 3 years

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did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen? (a.i.)

right where you left me: prologue

pairing: ashton irwin x olivia jones (oc)

warnings: uhh a kinda grieving theme i guess? but no deaths. it has a sad tone overall, but nothing major (in this chapter hehe). foul language because i can't help myself. the tiniest mention of alcohol, but as a memory. think i should probably warn you that this contains a very sad ash. also not much dialogues. this is mainly for explanation and introduction, but very important for the story. if you find anything else that might be triggering, please let me know so i can add it here !!

author's note: oof okay. so. this is the prologue of a series very very dear to my heart that i've been working on for what it feels like my whole life but really it's been just a few months. but i'm in love with the story (which rarely happens with my own writing) so i hope you can enjoy it too !! this is also my very first time posting a fic since 2013 so pls keep that in mind <3 no i am not shaking as type this ofc not also: although i have the full story ready in my head, this is the only chapter that's written. i wanted to wait until i had at least a few ready before posting this but i'm too anxious for that lmao just saying this bc it will take a good while until i have any more chapters, so <3 (p.s.: i went over this thing a million times since may so if you find any errors pls look away, i'm not fixing this thing anymore. thanks <3)

another note: anna from the future here to say that i completely forgot about the playlist i made for the story lmao here it is in case you're interested k thanks bye <3

credits: title is from taylor swift's song right where you left me. model in the picture: paola locatelli. banner by me.

i also wanted to take a minute to thank some really nice friends that i've made here over these past few months & that i'm extremely grateful for @wastelandcth @suchalonelysunflower @littledrummerangie i cannot thank you babes enough for inspiring me the way that you do & for letting me yell about this to you && for encouraging me so much 🥺 i'll never be able to explain just how much this means to me, so i'll have to settle for saying thank you at any change that i can get <3 i love you all 💜 also gem my baby, thank you for the inspo with the banner 💚

@bluesdelis look babe i did it 😌 you know how grateful i am for you & for you letting me have a breakdown every week about my writing for the past 8 years so let's not dive into that or else i will write something bigger than this prologue jsjsjdjd love you 🖤

i hope you all have a good reading and a nice day ♡

let me know what are your thoughts about the fic ! ♡

word count: 4.1k

☆☆☆

Cold. That was the first thing that Olivia’s brain processed.

Still with her eyes closed, she buried herself more into the duvet, while her arm blindly reached for the furnace in human form that she calls boyfriend. However, as soon as her arm was only met with cold sheets, her eyes shot open.

Blinking the sleep away, she sat up on the bed, searching for the infamous red clock resting on Ashton’s bedside table that was supposed to look like a vintage alarm clock. Olivia had ordered it online at an auction website a couple of years back, as a gift for his 23rd birthday, since it was something he had mentioned multiple times prior that he was looking for, but still hadn't found. But when it finally came in (two weeks after the due date), it looked nothing like the picture she saw on the website. Feeling beyond frustrated, she wanted to send it back immediately and ask for a refund and maybe leave a not so polite review on the seller's page. But Ashton stopped her right away, laughing like the situation was absolutely hilarious to him, while saying, 'I like it, it’s quirky'. So, the clock stayed and found a home right next to him in their room.

Some days, however, she would wake up at some ungodly hour because of the blaring noise of the only ringtone the clock had. But whatever annoyance she could feel towards the object, it always vanished as soon as she felt Ashton's lips gently touching her face in a good morning kiss before he would get up to start his day, leaving her to catch some more hours of well deserved sleep.

As the furthest from a morning person as a touring musician could possibly be, Olivia had always feared that living under the same roof as Ashton would turn her into an early bird like him, but she's thankful that it never happened (not that he needs to know about that).

When she sees the red clock, she smiles at the sudden but welcome memories of them flooding her foggy brain, but frowns slightly when she realizes it reads 12:13 pm. Ashton rarely lets her sleep past 10 am.

Gathering all her strength and will, she rises up from the bed, smoothly picking up a grey wool sweatshirt from the chair (way too baggy on her slim body, but it smells like him), pulling it over her head and relishing on the soft material warming up her body. Making her way to the door and calmly going down the stairs, she can’t help but stop for a minute to admire the picture frames on their walls, one in particular catches her attention – probably one of the most prized pictures and memories they had. It felt older than it actually is, but it was around 4 years ago, she's sure – a little while after the two of them met. The picture was of their group of friends that still remains the same: Ashton and his best friend, Luke; Olivia, her best friend, Calum and their old hometown friend, turned into Calum’s new friend at college, turned into everyone’s friend, Michael; and her then newly band members, Suki, Eli and Ravi. Together, their group was the life of the party through all their college years, and it showed by the big smiles and drinks in hands they all had in the picture. It was a very special night, the first time Olivia’s little band played for the public – for a small audience sure, but it was a wonderful night nonetheless. What a long road it had been since that night.

Her nostalgic thoughts were interrupted by a shiver that went through her whole body, and it made her realize how oddly cold the whole house was, not only their bedroom. Which, granted, it was November in New York and the weather was just getting colder, but that’s exactly why Ashton always made sure to keep the house warm enough. As much as she loved the chilly season, the warm weather always reminded him of his hometown, and who was she to deny him that?

The smell of fresh made coffee could be sensed even before she reached the kitchen. Arriving there, the curly haired woman still found no signs of her boyfriend, so she went straight after the coffee maker pot sitting on the far left corner of the cream marble counter. Smiling softly at the tons of memories of Ashton's sleepy figure making their favorite beverage, she reached for a coffee mug on the cupboard on top of the counter and poured the remainder of the hot liquid on it (it's her favorite mug, if she must choose – it was a gift from a fan, and it had printed on it a collage of the pictures of her and Ashton that were posted on social media through their first year of relationship).

Moving to the glass doors that lead to the mini garden they cultivate, she didn't have to open them to spot the 6-feet-tall man sitting on a bench outside, looking oddly small in his oversized clothes, coffee mug tightly held between strong hands. Something about his figure made Olivia frown, however: he was staring with an unwavering look at her small but eye-catching pot of yellow daffodils that were almost as much of a pet to them as Stitch at this point. Sensing that there’s something definitely off about his semblance, she made a mental note to talk to him and find out what’s wrong later. So she goes back to the kitchen, knowing that he might need this quiet and private moment for himself.

She lost count of the minutes that went by (couldn't have been more than five) before she hears the garden's door opening and closing, and then his bare feet are dragging his brawny body to her. Except, he goes over to the sink, walking right through her, not showing any sign that he even saw her hunched figure over the counter table in the middle of the room.

Alright, someone's in a mood.

Olivia tries to swallow the annoyance already bubbling inside her – he knows how much she hates to be ignored, no matter how mad he might be – by trying to think of what she can say that won't piss him off. This is always a hard feat to accomplish when Ashton gets in these moods, but there’s a reason for them to work so well together.

“I missed my favorite body heater when I woke up,” she says in her best sweet voice, knowing how quickly his resolve crumbles when he hears that voice.

Still, no reaction.

That settles a worry at the pit of her stomach, because Ashton is never like this. Even when he's not in the mood to talk, he always gives some kind of reaction to her words; it doesn't matter how small, just enough to make her feel acknowledged.

When he's finished washing his mug and the few scattered dishes across the sink – she noticed that he already had lunch, if the lone plate in the drying rack is anything to go by –, he dries his hand in a towel, turns around and throws it on top of the same counter Olivia was leaning up against. Once again, he walks away not even sparing her a look.

Indignant, she leaves the now empty coffee mug on top of the table and follows him as he walks up the stairs, any determination to not aggravate his mood now well gone.

“Hey! In case you didn't notice, I'm right here. Whatever got you in this sour mood, I'm certainly not to blame, so can you stop being a child now and talk to me?!”

Ashton just keeps walking – more like sluggishly dragging his body – until he reaches their bedroom and suddenly stops just merely two feet inside the room, looking around with vacant eyes; like he was expecting to see something that wasn't there.

“Okay, that's really mature of you. Are you planning on ignoring me all day then?” Olivia questions exasperated, staring angrily at the back of his neck, where the condor tattoo lives – her favorite of his, but that sight doesn't bring her any peace today like it usually does.

Her glare only breaks when she hears the familiar sound of dog tags swaying on her right side. Shifting her gaze to the direction of the sound, Olivia notices Stitch, their small, black & white French bulldog – who she thought was outside in the garden – slowly trudging his way from around the bed until he stops at Ashton's feet, looking up at one of his humans with sad eyes. That realization only makes the worry in her stomach grow uncomfortably.

“Hi buddy,” Ashton's voice cracks a bit from the lack of use, but he smiles softly at the sweet dog, and crouches down to pet him.

Olivia can't help but gasp as she notices three things all at once that leave her overwhelmed: first, how she didn't even notice Stitch was in the room when she woke up – which never ever happens, in fact, most days he wakes her up whenever he deems her bedtime as finished and can't ever contain his excitement when she finally gets up; second, how the windows blinds are closed, which, again, rarely occurs under their roof, not if Ashton can help it. And third, how sad and melancholic the whole scene in front of her is – how sad and melancholic Ashton is. Pointless to say by now – that's also a very rare occasion.

A chill creeps up Olivia's spine, putting her body into high alert and also serving as a reminder of how everything looks out of place today. Trying to keep her head from spiraling down way too soon, she wraps her arms around herself and crouches down beside her two favorite boys, trying once more.

“Ash? Can you hear me?” even with her throat closing, she softly asks, purposefully putting her face in Ashton's point of view. Her only answer is the low whispers he's letting out to Stitch, while cradling the tiny dog in his arms, spreading gentle kisses on his head.

“I know, bud, I know. I miss her too,” is the only whisper she could understand and immediately wishes she hadn't. The weak wail that comes from Stitch's throat seems to fit perfectly with how the three of them feel.

Ashton then looks up and for a couple of seconds, and Olivia can swear he’s staring right into her eyes. But when he shows no reaction, she knows he’s just staring ahead and not at her, with that look that says there’s too much going on inside his head. She feels the urge to embrace him and get him to talk about whatever is on his mind, so they can share that weight like they always do, but when Ashton gets up from the ground and settles on the bed with Stitch, Olivia can physically feel the crack in her heart caused by the feeling she’s left with.

While Ashton is pulling the duvet over him and the dog, with clearly no intentions of getting up anytime soon, Olivia stands up on her feet with a new-found determination – she needs to figure out what the hell is going on.

This nightmare had to be just that, right? Nothing but a very vivid dream – she's had those before. Scary sure, but they always go away, and soon enough she's back into Ashton's arms, with Stitch jumping on the bed ready to lick their faces off. She just needs to wake herself up from whatever fucked up dream this is – right?

She's running down the stairs this time, frantically in search of something, of what exactly, she doesn’t know – but she knows she needs an answer. The more she looks for something, the more desperate she gets, not knowing what to look for. Then suddenly, something catches her eyes.

The white and blue calendar that's held up by magnets on the side of the fridge. She knows their calendar is red and yellow. They got it from their favorite flower market. Slowly, as if scared of what it might be there – “It's just a calendar, for fucks sake” – she approaches the damn thing. Upon inspection, she deems it as a normal calendar – she really doesn't know what she was expecting – until.

She knows what's wrong with it now.

It's November. She knows it, because the Asian and last leg of her first world tour is about to begin November 21st, eleven days from today. Right after Mike's birthday, she knows this.

Then why does the calendar say today is January 14th?

☆ ☆ ☆

Ashton woke up with a jolt. He quickly sat up, frightening the little Frenchie that was asleep right next to him on the bed. Trying to make sense of his surroundings, he roughly rubbed his face to get some sleep off of it and soon reached for the dog that was staring at him with sleepy but sad eyes. Ashton is sure Stitch understands far more than a dog is supposed to understand about their current situation.

The room is covered in shadows, almost pitch black, but he can see the sunlight even through the thick dark grey blinds covering up the windows. Ashton knows he won't be able to sleep again at that moment, so he gets up from the bed – much slower than he used to. His heartbeat is still out of control because of the nightmare that woke him up, but he can't bother to pay attention to it when Stitch is softly wailing beside him. Ashton lets out a ghost of a smile when the dog rests his head on his right upper thigh, looking up at him with an expression Ashton knows all too well.

“C'mon you little ravenous creature, let's feed you,” the bulldog excitedly jumps to the ground, already running his way down the stairs, not even waiting for Ashton to get up.

That gets a real smile out of him, but it vanishes as soon as he glances at the alarm clock on his bedside table. It reads 5:13 am, nothing out of the ordinary for him. But that small and inoffensive clock, with its red paint peeling off, holds a lot of memories for him. Memories that two months ago would bring joy to his heart, but now he almost wants to throw the object across the room.

It was a stupid thing, really. He had been wanting a vintage alarm clock and Olivia got one for his birthday. But the product they received was definitely not the one she bought, and if he's being honest, he didn't like it as much as he made out to. But seeing her so excited in the weeks before it arrived, and how disappointed she was when it did, he couldn't help but try his best to make her smile that luminous smile again. It's part of his nature by now.

That's also the reason why he lets her think that he doesn't notice when she wakes up at some ungodly hour (her words, not his) along with him, because of the annoying and only sound the alarm clock is able to produce. He always leaves soft kisses in every inch of bare skin he can find on her sleeping figure, so she goes back to the dream land and doesn't wake up before 10 am. No one wants to deal with that kind of bad humor, not even him.

As much as he likes being a morning person and absolutely enjoys her company in the mornings, he knows she'll take any and every extra hour of sleep she can get before starting the day. And that's why he loves that she's so stubborn that his early bird tendencies never got to her – he knows she feared that this would happen when they moved in together, but he met her like this, fell for her like this. He wouldn't change a single thing about her.

Ashton drags himself out of the bed, wincing slightly at how cold the wooden floors are under his bare feet. He doesn't bother putting some socks on, or a sweater – the cold weather in the house is uncharacteristically comforting to him. Nothing feels warm without her anyway.

While descending the stairs, he mentally curses himself for not being strong enough to look past the picture frames on the wall. One in particular catches his eyes – a picture from the night of Olivia's first concert with her band. The memories of that night are still painfully vivid in his mind: the laughter among their group that eventually infected everyone at the pub, Suki and Luke's first kiss and the silly smile that didn't leave his best friend's face all night, the standing ovation Olivia got after her three-songs set, and her captivating and breathtaking smile that made him realize right then and there, while watching her sway to the music, that he was definitely falling in love with her and there was nothing he could do to stop it – not that he wanted to.

So many memories held up on that wall, in the relatively short time since they met, that he can't help but wonder if that's all they'll get in this lifetime.

Ashton is abruptly taken out of his thoughts by Stitch's barks coming from the bottom of the stairs. He quickly jogs down the few steps left and goes straight after the dog's food in the kitchen's cabinet. After Stitch starts to happily devour his breakfast, Ashton goes to make his coffee, doing enough for two people like he always does, since Calum drops by most days for a chat or to drop Duke before going to work. Although all three of them know he just can't bother to make food for himself in the morning, while Ashton is the group's elected chef. Ashton always says he just needs a boyfriend – Olivia says Calum already has one who makes him breakfast every day.

He grabs an apple from the fridge and makes his way outside to their garden. Even though a lot of their memories took place there, the garden is the only space in the house where he doesn't feel like suffocating all the time. At least here, he can breathe some fresh air and look at the sky when he's feeling overwhelmed – which is basically all he's been doing for about a month now.

Yet, a lot of the garden has Olivia's name written all over.

He remembers vividly the day she came home after spending two weeks in LA doing some pocket shows, with a pack of daffodil seeds and the largest smile. She excitedly told him that a friend gifted it to her when she mentioned the little garden they were planning to build together at their new house. The friend told Olivia that daffodils symbolize rebirth and new beginnings, so as the good lover of symbolism that she is, Olivia loved the idea of having those flowers to symbolize their new beginning.

Ashton, on the other hand, wasn't a fan of the flowers at first – he just didn't see the appeal to them. But nonetheless, he indulged her, letting Olivia plant the seeds near the bench they used to sit during the quiet and unrushed afternoons, so they could admire the sunset, and she could happily look at the daffodils.

Pointless to say – the damn flowers grew on him.

Now, however, looking at them without Olivia and her contagious joy next to him, they were back to be as dull as they were before, if not more so.

Still lost inside his head without any sense of how much time went by since he sat down, Ashton doesn't hear the front door closing, and doesn't notice that he's no longer the only person inside the house until someone sits next to him on the bench. Yet, he doesn't show any sign of acknowledgement to them.

A few minutes go by before either of them speaks up.

“Luke said you didn't go to see her yesterday,” Calum starts softly, not wanting to disturb the calmness of the morning.

Ashton takes a few seconds to respond, “No point in doing that.” The black haired man licks his lips while thinking carefully about his next words.

“You know staying inside this house all day by yourself won't help either,” Calum turns his head to his left and takes a good look at Ashton's uncharacteristically hunched over figure, and immediately thinks that anyone can tell this man is not himself anymore. His second thought is that Olivia would hate seeing him like this.

“And what exactly do you expect me to do? Move on with my life like nothing happened? Like I'm not slowly and painfully losing the love of my life? Just because it’s easy for you doesn't mean it's easy for me.”

Calum closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He knows Ashton doesn't mean it, it's the anger and frustration talking. He knows it. Doesn't make it sting any less.

“I'm not telling you to move on with your life, because that's far from what I'm doing, and I certainly don't expect you to do it. I'm just saying you need to occupy your mind or else–”

“I'll go insane? Think it's a bit too late for that,” Ashton interrupts with a bitter tone that doesn't belong to his usual chirpy voice.

“You know it's not,” Calum sighs and drinks the rest of his coffee, moving his body slightly, so he's facing the blonde man, “I got a job interview for you at that school you talked about so much last summer, the principal said you can go any day this week. I went ahead and sent her your resume as well as explained everything that she needs to know about Olivia, so you don't have to. You just gotta put on some decent clothes and show up.” he sees Ashton's face softening a little and takes it as a victory. A few beats go by and then, “Maybe take a shower too. That's gonna make you feel better.” Calum leans in closer to his friend's personal space and takes a sniff, causing Ashton to deflect from him slightly, but not to push him away – another small win.

“Definitely take a shower, you stink. When was the last time your hair saw shampoo?”

“Fuck off,” is Ashton's only reply to the younger man's inquest. But Calum can see a smile creeping up on the blonde's face, which brings out a smile of his own.

“I'll send you all the details later today,” he checks the hour on the watch on his wrist and gets up, “Just please, Ash, go. I can't lose you too.”

Calum gently lays a hand on Ashton's shoulder and squeezes a little. The man doesn't look up, but gives a curt nod to his friend, who's satisfied enough. Calum stops on the threshold of the garden glass doors to give some kisses to Stitch – who came to make Ashton company as soon as he finished his food –, and then he puts the coffee mug on the dishwater. And soon enough, he's on his way out of the door. But not before snatching a tangerine from the fridge.

Ashton is left by himself once again. As he hears the sound of the front door closing, he thinks that this might be his life from now on. Just him and Stitch, trying their hardest to make it through another miserable day without the love of their lives. While everyone else comes by just to make sure he's still breathing. Breathing, maybe, but alive?

Swallowing the tears, he looks up at the sky. It's a deep, beautiful mix of orange, pink and blue, but he knows that it won't last long and soon the rain will be pouring down. He thinks about how much Olivia loves the rain.

God, he needs to pull himself together. She would hate to see him like this. Maybe he should take Calum's offer after all, he really needs to occupy his mind.

Making a mental note to thank Calum later, and also to apologize for how rude he was to him this morning, Ashton slowly gets up from the bench to put his mug on the sink and makes his way to the living room, with the small dog loyally following his every step. He puts on some cartoon that for once doesn't remind him of her (she always lovingly made fun of him for still watching those) and cuddles with Stitch on the couch. He can take a shower later.

Not half an hour goes by, he falls asleep and has a good dream for a change. He dreams of the days he spent with Olivia in the Philippines last February, right before her first world tour started. Some of the most magical days of their lives – surrounded by delicious food, a whole new culture to learn about and the warmth of the sun. Infinite counted days full of love and passion, where they were the only people in the world.

Even his subconscious knows to hold on to that brief moment of happiness, because he might never live that again.

#anna writes #perhaps she does write after all #alright i'm gonna go hide somewhere now bye #ashton irwin fanfiction #ashton irwin fic #ashton 5sos #ashton irwin x oc #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #ashton irwin imagine #5 seconds of summer #5sos imagine #anna writes: rwylm

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awesomerextyphoon · 3 years

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A Warrior’s Heart

Prologue

Main Paring: Stucky x Black!OFC (Ifekerenma ‘Ife’)

Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence, War Crimes, Corruption, Smut, Mentions of Anxiety, Depression, and possible Panic Attacks

Rating: 18+/Explicit

Word Count: 1,461

Summary: Ife didn’t mean to have her employers be the subject of a hostile takeover by Stark Industries. She just held up the city of Novi Grad long enough for the Avengers to defeat Ultron. So naturally, Tony finds and blackmails her into joining the team. No good deed goes unpunished, huh?

A/N: This is my first long form (12+ chapters) story. I’m including characters and/or aspects from Disney’s Atlantis: the Lost Empire, Lilo & Stitch, Big Hero 6, Gargoyles, Inuyasha, and Toriko. Furthermore, I will be including elements of Netflix MCU and Agent Carter as well. Special thanks goes to @jtargaryen18 for the title. Reposting on any site without my permission is strictly forbidden. Reblogs are welcomed! 😊

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Just keep the lie going.

That’s the line many of us have to repeat every day, and by us, I mean Non-Humans. Throughout history, humans have created myths and legends about us; some are true, others complete nonsense, but most are somewhere in between.

Let’s rewind a bit, okay?

Life on Earth lines up with most of what the textbooks say until about 5M BCE. Beings that would later be called gods and goddesses start to form with Mother Earth (the Amazing Gaea) as the focal point with other beings such as dragons, elves, and giants start to show two million years later.

The Celestials (sanctimonious assholes) came to Earth to see what’s happening after hearing about various fantastical anomalies (or that they were just bored). Gaea encouraged some (about 30K) of the human ancestors (Homo Erectus) to ‘the Space Gods’ direction. It took a few months, but they were able to create the species that later be known as Eternals. They also did some other shit but Gaea kicked them out when they wore out their welcome.

Around 200KBCE, the Kree (galactic genocidal nationalistic maniacs) happened upon a group of Eternals living on Uranus and traveled to Earth to ascertain whether other beings had similar potential. They experimented on a good number of early humans (about 150K survived) thus creating the first Inhumans (Inhomo Supremis). Several members of the Kree expedition tried to turn the Inhumans into weapons of the Kree Empire but were kicked off the planet by remaining Eternals and Non-Human factions.

Ten thousand years later (190KBCE), other early humans congregated around ‘magical hotspots’ which led to the births of the Homo Magi, Homo Superius, and Homo Animalis sub-species.

Soon after (okay, 15,000yrs later. Leave me alone.), the Mother Crystal (a semi-sentient comet, or Matag Yob) descended onto the island continent of Atlantis, imbuing the human inhabitants with longevity, knowledge, prosperity, and protection. At its height (around 55KBCE), Atlantis became the technological/cultural center on Earth (besides the Eternals).

It didn’t last long, though.

Five thousand years later (50KBCE), the first (and hopefully only) Pantheon War broke out. What exactly happened is lost to history (none of the people involved will fess up.), but what we do know is that shit went down.

Hard.

All that is known (admitted) is that almost all of the pantheons got into a Pantheon War (probably over some dumbass reason), a failed invasion by the Kree (really?), and the whole continent of Atlantis ‘sank’ into the sea in the span of three years (though some escaped).

Neat.

Fast-forward about 38K years (yeah, we’re making some jumps here) to the beginnings of the three most technologically advanced human nations of Earth: Wakanda, Sypavê, and Fetuilelagi; each with their own extraterrestrial metals/minerals.

Earth was pretty quiet until the ‘Christianity Dilemma’. So around 90CE, several ‘deities’ from the Greco-Roman, Norse, Germanic, and Celtic pantheons called for a Council of the Godheads’ to discuss ‘the ‘threat’ with Archangel Michael. It worked out well enough (no one wanted another Pantheon War).

Most of the world was in a pretty good state with a few ‘hiccups’ until the Bubonic Plague aka ‘The Black Death’ hit in 1346/7. It ravaged Eurasia and North Africa killing at least ½ the population and was seen as the start of non-belief in Europe. Worse, it was the beginning of Non-Human persecution and discrimination. You see, while the Black Death took out humans left and right, the worse a Non-Human got was a two-day flu. Many started to return to their respective realms once the Plague subsided and their once friendly neighbors started to accuse and persecute them.

The feeling of unease did not end but rather subsided. A tip from a Non-Human in Queen Isabella’s court alerted several groups in the Pre-Columbian Americas. Genocidal rapist, sex-trafficker, and all-around monster, Christopher Columbus does make it to the ‘New World’ (people were already there, dumbass) and devastated the indigenous population for centuries to come. By the time Columbus was executed in 1498, it was too late.

As many as 40 – 70% of the indigenous population was wiped out due to ‘virgin soil epidemics’ such as smallpox and influenza. Pantheons from negatively impacted areas called for a Council of the Godheads and demanded the ‘deities’ of the colonizers take action.

It went about as well as you’d think.

Earth was about to be embroiled in another Pantheon War until a few ‘level-headed’ individuals struck a bargain. No one was to interfere with human affairs whether it be good or ill. It was later amended to not have any ‘divine’ intervention (Sure). So by 1593, they had ‘bowed out’ of Earth affairs outside of their respective demi realms.

Outside of the matters of the ‘gods’, the rest of the world was dealing with its own problems. Tensions between humans and non-humans grew since the immediate aftermath of the Black Death. The Age of Enlightenment had started to pop up in intellectual circles across Europe around 1647. It focused on reason and free-thinking (Neat), but it also stoked up fear and anxiety towards Non-Humans (Boo!). Things came to a head in the 1670s. It got so bad that the Inter-Realm Parliament ordered all Non-Humans that weren’t exiled to return. They later founded the Bureau of Non-Human Affairs, BNA, in 1692 to deal with such matters in the future.

Two white-passing Non-Humans, Marcus Ashton and Jakob Schwartz founded Ashton & Schwartz Inc in 1809 along with a private partner. The company made waves in biomedical, chemical, agricultural, and climate science (they had to explain it to the populace) as well as pollution cleanup/prevention. One of their biggest inventions was a truly biodegradable plastic-like substance called biokivó̱tio or biokivo for short. The company made an even bigger impact with Non-Humans by solving issues pertaining to agriculture, large scale portal creation, and maintenance.

When the founders’ private partner decided to shut down the company in 1928, Ashton & Schwartz were a household name (especially since all major fossil fuel investments ended in 1900).

Barely ten years later and the threat of World War II rocked the planet to its core, especially the dropping of the Atomic Bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The war Council went behind current President Henry Wallace’s back and had them done on the same day, August 7, 1945.

Well, that got everyone’s attention.

The Inter-Realm Parliament issued an edict that every one of ‘age’ (biologically 18+) would have to spend at least five consecutive years amongst the humans. It didn’t take long for BNA to lay the groundwork.

Wakanda, Sypavê, and Fetuilelagi (who will now be known as The Unconquered Alliance or UA.) saw this as a ‘we need to end this’ type of situation. Within three weeks of the bomb dropping, they formulated a plan and got to work kicking the colonizers out of Africa, starting with Belgian-colonized Congo (80% of the uranium used in the bombs were mined from there). They also made a deal with British-colonized India.

Once they were successful in their test run, The U.A. moved forward with similar models until they were to liberate the continent in 1955. Meanwhile, Sypavian forces kicked out most of the Nazis that fled to South America and ended US/European influence in Central and South America.

The United States tried to play it neutral until The UA (mainly Fetuilelagi) freed Hawai’i from US occupation in 1951. The war was sold as “We must fight to preserve our freedom!” (Keep telling yourselves that).

Once both South/Central America and Africa were liberated, other colonized nations asked for their aid. UA agents/dignitaries offered to relocate Black people from the Caribbean, Europe, and the United States. As many as five million African-Americans took the offer, including former Howling Commando, Gabe Jones. By then the US was clamping down domestically through the FBI and local/state police.

Irked by the knowledge that the UA had satellites, the US jumpstarted the Space Race (they had more than a few satellites, but good for you).

As with most wars, both sides partook in some ‘questionable actions’ (i.e. Syria, Vietnam, Afghanistan, Iran, Iraq, Cambodia, and Laos).

The war climaxed in 1977 when a UA (Sypavian) agent discovered plans for a super-weapon in the US. A Special Ops team led by N’Jobu realized that the weapon was a mega bomb that would’ve wiped out the African Continent.

After weighing their options, The UA came to an agreement with BNA: BNA would gather their most powerful Homo Magi and cast a spell to erase the memory and evidence of the war from every human outside of the UA in exchange for letting some Non-Humans live openly in UA borders.

They shook on it, unaware of the chaos that would follow.

Next>>

---------

Taglist:@opheliadawnwalker3 @sherrybaby14 @stargazingfangirl18 @hevans-angel @threeminutesoflife @cockslut-padalecki @golden-ariess @sapphirescrolls @holylulusworld

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jobrookekarev · 3 years

Text

Little Moon Chapter 2

Chapter: 2/?

Words: 1294

Summary: Jo sets up a crib in the Loft and tells Levi of her plans to adopt Luna.

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy.

Characters: Jo Wilson, Levi Schmitt, and Luna Ashton.

Rating: Gen. Audiences.

Additional Tags: Fluff, all the fluff, Crib Building, Baby Clothes, Parenting, Babies, NICU Baby, Foster Care, Jo being a Mom! Other characters to be added.

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

…………………………………………………………………

“What is all this?” Schmidt asked standing in the entryway to the Loft still holding the groceries with his mask on.

Jo stood up from where she was in the middle of assembling the crib and waved the screwdriver at him. “Have you ever committed a felony or crime of any nature?”

“No, no, of course not, I've never even had a parking ticket,” Levi said, dropping the groceries and holding up his hands.

Jo realized she was still waving the screwdriver at him and dropped her arm to her side.

“Good, because I need you to pass a background check and this place needs to be baby proofed,” Jo said looking around the Loft.

“Holy shit, are you pregnant?” Levi said his eyes going wide as he looked around the room as well.

“What, no of course not,” Jo said as she started laughing so hard that she held her stomach.

“Well forgive me for asking. It's just when you show up with all this baby stuff I kind of assumed that there's a baby,” Levi said not joining in on her laughter as he picked up the groceries and went over to set them on the counter. “Is there a baby Jo?”

Jo's laughter died down as she put down the screwdriver and walked over to help Levi unload the groceries.

“It's Luna, I want to adopt her.”

“Wait Luna, Luna Ashton Val’s baby?”

“Yes, she's all alone now and she doesn't have any parents. Her Mom died and her Dad doesn't care about her and she needs somebody. She needs somebody to look out for her and I can't let her go into the foster care system, not when I have a home that could be hers too.”

Val had a few friends and distant family that came forward and arranged a funeral. Even with Covid Jo met them over Zoom and told them about Luna and about Val’s last few days. Jo asked if any of them could take Luna but none of them were in a position to do so. One of Val's particularly nasty aunts wondered why anyone would bother with a baby the size of a soda can, that was probably going to die. Jo got so riled up at that comment that she wanted to scream. Instead, she ranted off about Luna’s stats and the fact that she was doing well even on the ventilator and how much progress she had been making now that she's gained two whole pounds. The nasty aunt shut up after that. A few of Val’s friends give Jo their contact information to keep in touch. Later when Jo called to tell them about her plans to adopt and they wished her luck.

“Wow, you must have really fallen in love with her?” Levi said as he paused to smile from where he was putting away the groceries.

Jo froze as she was holding a bag of chips about to put it away in the basket. At first, Jo just told herself that she was doing this for Val, because Val would have wanted for Luna to be somewhere where she was safe and taking care of. Jo doesn't think of Luna as her baby, Luna is Val's baby and Jo wants to make sure that Luna doesn't forget her mom. So she put up Val’s picture next to Luna's incubator. She wrote down everything Val ever told her, little details like when Val mentioned that sweet potatoes were her favorite potato, and what color of shirt she was wearing when she came into the ER.

In the past few weeks, Jo had realized that she did love Luna. A part of her was terrified to admit it as the last person she loved walked out of her life. Luna already had a mom who loved her and Jo didn't want to replace her. Plus there was no guarantee that Luna would be placed with her. The Loft wasn’t set up for a baby and the neighborhood wasn’t the best in Seattle. There were probably a dozen other foster homes that were better for Luna and Jo didn't have much to offer her, but she knew that she could do right by Luna.

Jo could give her love and safety and comfort and support and everything she needed in life. When she was a child Jo had always hoped that someone would reach out and be there for her. She never got that, yet she could do that for Luna. She could provide them with a safe home, where she could grow up knowing she was loved and cared for. Jo had been around plenty of orphaned babies in the hospital, but Luna was different. From the moment she looked at Luna this tiny little baby had wrapped her finger around Jo's heart and Jo didn't want to let her go.

“Yeah, I do love her,” Jo whispered as she looked back at the half assembled crib.

“Okay then why don't I get started on dinner and then I'll help you assemble the crib,” Levi said, pulling out a pot and grabbing the ravioli from the grocery bag.

Jo let out another laugh as she put the chips away. “Of all the guys I thought would help me assemble a crib, you were the last person on my list.”

“I never expected to be on that list either,” Levi said with a laugh.

Jo went back to all the baby things and pulled out one of the little onesies that she bought. It was this adorable little romper with frills and strawberries all over it. Even though it was way too big for the barely three-pounds Luna. Jo couldn't resist it. Just a few months ago she and Alex were shopping and as they passed the baby section Alex picked up this little red dress with strawberries all over it. He had smiled at her and said that if they ever had a little girl he'd dress her in something like that. It made her smile to think of having a daughter with him, yet here she was, on her own with a strawberry dress for a little girl who wasn't Alex's daughter.

Jo took a deep breath and instead pulled out the blue blanket with little stars all over it and a little Moon stitched into the corner. Jo held the blanket close and pressed her lips to the soft fabric. It would be perfect for Luna. Luna didn't have any blankets other than the regular NICU blankets. If Jo washed this blanket, brought it into work, and put it in a bag, then after 72 hours, they could place it on Luna's incubator and she could have something of her own. Jo looked around the space set up for Luna, she still has her hand on the bags full of diapers and blankets and clothes and the tiniest socks Jo has ever seen, all of which seem too big for her Little Moon.

Apart from the crib Jo also had bags of preemie baby clothes, toys, and diapers, along with bottles, and burp cloth, and outlet covers, and corner covers, and door covers. She was still trying to figure out what to put around the kitchen, but basically, she bought out every baby related thing at the baby store she went to. She needed to be prepared for when CPS did their home study. Which according to her lawyer could happen faster than she ever imagined, even though Luna was still in the NICU and would be for several more weeks. Jo had gotten everything Luna would ever need or want, yet she knew that Luna needed love too and Jo would happily give Luna all of her love.

#levi schmitt #luna ashton #grey's anatomy #grey's anatomy fanfic #my work #my writing #my fanfiction #alex karev #otp: home and heart #jolex #jo wilson #luna wilson

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hoodharlow · 4 years

Text

Masterlist

***No one has my permission to repost even with credit and including translations***

Calum

Request:

Jealous Cal

Teaching Calum Spanish

One Shots/Multi-shots:

All I Ever Wanted [Dad!Cal]

Going the Distance

Family Addition

Stitched Up: Teaser (coming soon)

Series:

Mr. Hood [Teacher! Cal AU]: Masterlist 2/14/2021

One Day at a Time Masterlist

El Novio Masterlist

El Novio Quarantine Edition

everything in this link does not follow the overall story (part 1 to part 14 are bc they happened before March) It’s just a few blurbs about them in quarantine IF it existed in their universe]

Workout!Cal Mini Series

[everything in this link is just a few one shots that don’t do much to the overall plot of El Novio. it’s just Calum and Claudia being domestic and hoochie for each other <3]

Luke

One Shots:

Series:

Lover of Mine

Ashton

Series

Michael

Series

One Shots

“Listen, I really don’t like you, but you have my Moose.”

4/4 Moodboards

Dog Days (+Harry Styles and Shawn Mendes)

Dad!SOS

Royal!SOS

FBI!SOS

Other

Harry Styles

Jack Harlow

Masterlist

Joe Burrow

Series

Behind the Scenes [Joe Burrow x Actress!OC] Masterlist

One Shots

Y'all Must Be Feeling Godly part of IWSSA

Tom Holland

Tom and Lele

Shawn Mendes

Oscar ‘Spooky’ Diaz

Series

Hope

#calum hood imagine #calum hood blurb #calum hood smut #calum hood one shot #calum hood oneshot #calum hood request #masterlist #pls request me things #they do not have to be calum

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calumcest · 4 years

Text

even when the night changes it will never change me and you

okay yes i know i have literally just dropped off the face of the planet and i show up a month later with almost 2k of nonsense pseudoangst but you know what. sometimes life just be like that i have a lot going on right now so i can’t promise i’ll be back here often but i will try i’m adjusting to a new (and INSANELY busy) routine but hopefully once i’m more settled in that i’ll have more time to be back here and also time to write more britpop i MISS writing britpop

Grief isn’t new to Ashton.

He’s grieved relationships, grieved lost relatives, grieved phases of his life, grieved friends that have come and gone. He’s mourned endings of tours and album cycles and futures that could have been but weren’t, cried for himself and for others and for nothing in particular. Ashton’s life has been full of grief from the moment his father had scooped out a part of his heart and run off with it, leaving a clumsy, too-young Ashton to try and learn how to grow the rest of it back again.

But he’s never grieved someone who’s still there.

Grief is marked by a sense of loss, and until now, it’s made sense to Ashton. People flit in and out of his life, marking his days with laughter and a heart fit to burst and then a stomach so hollow it feels like when they’d left, they’d taken yet another part of him with them. He must be scattered at the four corners of the world by now, a bit of his heart here and a piece of his soul there and maybe even a part of his lungs somewhere too, the breath stolen from him by a face he can barely remember but still makes his newly-stitched-up stomach ache. And the more abstract things have made sense too; endings, that ring of finality, that gut-wrenching moment in which the world stands still and he stands still with it and nobody else does and he realises that’s it, it’s over, and I’m the only one who’s noticed. Grief is loss, he thinks, and maybe solitude, that crushing awareness that whoever said he was born alone and he’ll die alone was right, that even though he’s got everybody else alongside him they can’t ever be with him.

And there is a loss with this grief, too, but he can’t put his finger on what it is, because Luke’s still here.

He’s still smiling brightly at Ashton when they wake up in the mornings, blue eyes a little hazy as the remnants of sleep drain out of Luke’s irises, seeping through his bones and into the mattress they should probably replace by now. He’s still yelling for Ashton when there’s a spider on the wall, the same note of panic in his voice as there always has been, the same escalation in pitch when Ashton doesn’t defy the laws of physics to get from the upstairs bedroom to the downstairs bathroom in the space of three milliseconds. He still turns his face to Ashton when they’re watching TV, blinking slow and breathing even and lips already curved up in a soft smile because he knows Ashton’s going to kiss him before even Ashton does.

So why is Ashton grieving him?

Or, not Luke, specifically. Luke’s still Luke, always has been Luke, and there have been times Ashton has found himself on his knees in a pew praying to a God that he doesn’t believe in that he always will be Luke, too. No, Luke hasn’t changed, and Ashton hasn’t changed either, but they’ve changed. Or, no, that’s not quite right either. Nothing has changed, but something has shifted. Something’s moved, and Ashton doesn’t think it’s a bad thing, but it’s not a good thing either. It’s just- it’s just a thing. Nothing’s grown, nothing’s shrunk, but something’s been shuffled around, and Ashton’s still reaching for it in its old place, knuckles knocking against the edge of it rather than fingers curling around it.

But it’s unnerving, because he doesn’t know what it is.

He finds himself picking up letters from the doormat addressed to Luke, and he falters, stares at Luke’s name for a moment, something curling uncomfortably in his stomach. He finds himself drinking in all of Luke across the table as Luke tells some animated story about one time in Year Nine, right, when me and Michael hated each other, and the words wash over him because there’s no room left in Ashton for them to sink in, not when he’s so full of an unsettled feeling at the sight of Luke’s bright blue eyes and pretty pink lips, the same as ever, but a few millimetres to the left of where they used to be in his heart. Most of all, though, he finds himself aching, finds every cell in his body turning itself over and over, left to right, right to left, up and down, trying to discern whether it’s here that things have changed, whether it’s here that he can find that old comfort and safety hiding away.

And it’s confusing, because he hasn’t lost anything. His way, maybe, or his mind, but somehow it feels like something more than that, something bigger and extrinsic. Or maybe it’s intrinsic, and that’s the whole fucking problem. His fingers are scrabbling at the worn fabric of himself, at the soft fabric of Luke, at the well-known fabric of the two of them, tough and sturdy thread weaving in and out of glinting silk, but it all feels the same. Maybe it’s his fingertips that have changed. Maybe he’s got new fingerprints, leaving brand new stains all over himself and over Luke, marking him up as his all over again.

He doesn’t tell Luke. What would he say? Something’s changed, but it hasn’t. Nothing’s changed, but it has. He doesn’t need frog-marching to the doctor. He needs to find where things have moved, needs to follow the spotlight as it crosses the stage, not stay three feet behind it, unable to guess where it’s going to move next. But he doesn’t know how, because he doesn’t know what’s moved, and until he knows what’s moved he won’t know where it’s moved, and until he knows where it’s moved he won’t know where - or whether - it’s going to move after that.

He does tell Calum, though.

He’s only planning on saying one carefully constructed sentence, one throwaway line that he’s neatly built up with sharp new bricks, but it seems like he might have forgotten the cement, because it all comes tumbling out, tongue twisting in on itself as the words try and form themselves before Ashton can see their shapes and stop them in their tracks. Calum just listens, though, nods, doesn’t interrupt or stop him or frown or even look like he’s thinking about it, like he’s already formulating a response in his mind. He just listens, and then when Ashton’s finished, he looks at him, dead in the eye in that way that Ashton hates because Calum’s the only person besides Luke who’s found the direct line between Ashton’s eyes and his soul.

“That makes sense,” he says.

“No it doesn’t.” How the fuck can it make sense to Calum, when it doesn’t even make sense to Ashton?

“It does,” Calum presses, unbothered by Ashton’s resistance. “It’s not grieving the loss of a person or loss of a stage of life, but the loss of your old perception of how things are. It’s just adjusting to a shift.”

“Why would it change?” Ashton wants to know, like Calum’s the keeper of the keys to Ashton’s own mind.

“Just happens,” Calum says, with a shrug. “You change, so your perception changes. Would be a bit weird if you still saw the world like a nine-year-old, wouldn’t it?”

“I don’t feel like I’ve changed.” Ashton knows he’s being stubborn, but he can’t leave with a half-thought, needs Calum to lead him right up to the water and cup his hands in it and then bring them to his lips for him. Or maybe Ashton’s already in the river; maybe that’s why he can’t seem to find anything to drink, because how is he supposed to know to drink what appears to be his ground?

“Change doesn’t always have to come in eureka moments,” Calum says. “Things can change you without you noticing. And you can change you without you noticing.” Ashton steeps himself in those words for a moment, lets them bleed into his core and half-expects them to burn at him like acid, but they just surround him, soothe him like coolant on an overworked engine.

And suddenly, Ashton finds the spotlight. It’s not three feet away. It’s right next to him, waiting patiently for him to step into it. Nothing has changed, he was right about that, and something did shift; he was right about that too. It’s just his perception - he’s the same, Luke’s the same, and they’re the same, but Ashton’s perception of them has changed.

“Oh,” Ashton says, and Calum doesn’t say anything else, because he’s brought the water to Ashton’s lips now, and it’s up to Ashton to learn to clumsily do it on his own.

It takes him a while.

It’d be nice if it were a simple process, if change did all come in eureka moments, so he could simply turn his back on the smiles that make it all the way from his heart into his lungs and up his trachea but falter just before his lips, so he could look at Luke without his stomach flipping uncomfortably, but it isn’t. The smiles stay forced, and his stomach tries its best to earn a spot in the Gymnastics Australia Olympics squad, but it gets easier. It’s not permanent, now, and it gets less and less, until instead of feeling thick in his mouth Ashton’s tongue is curled around laughter and I love yous that he means almost more than he’s ever meant them before. And it’s not like he ever didn’t mean them - nothing changed, after all; he always loved Luke as much as he always has - but he’s starting to feel his way into his place again, finding the taped X on the stage right in the middle of the spotlight that he’d managed to miss somehow.

And then, before he’s even realised it, he’s stood right in said middle of the spotlight, feet placed perfectly on the X, watching the little particles of dust as they float around him, disturbed by his steady inhales and even exhales. And when he looks out, tries to make out something other than the column of light he’s bathed in, he sees a figure in the front row, beaming at him, like he’s the entire show they’d come to see.

Luke. It’s always been Luke.

(And when he picks up the post one morning and sees Mr L. R. Hemmings, he falters again. To smile at the envelope, to feel that familiar warm glow in his heart, to feel the way his fingers curl around that inscrutable thing rather than bumping against it.

Loss doesn’t always have to mean grief. Sometimes it can be hope.)

#lashton #5sos fic #5sos fanfic #5sos fanfiction #5sos slash #yeah i wrote this in like 20 minutes embarrassing #anyway back to my reading about tacit knowledge <3 at least its not internalism/externalism anymore #however i think i have time at the weekend to FINALLY read sam and bellas birthday fics for me #i am so excited i cant even tell you #however i have to say hilarious that part of this fic is taken from the internalism/externalism debate we had today #thats literally sending me my masters degree...put to use for 5sos fic...

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punkandsnacks · 4 years

Text

Between Wolves & Doves, Chapter 17; Highlands Part I

Author: @punk-in-docs & @adamsnackdriver

Also on AO3-

Masterlist-

Trigger Warnings: No warnings in this chap- slightly naughty bits

Synopsis: Vampire!Kylo x OC love story. Inspired by BBC’s Dracula. Also inspired by Austen’s Pride & Prejudice.

He’s been stalking this earth long since civilizations can possibly fathom. Before records even began. He sneers at the fact that this pitiful young world has only just begun to see his reign of it.

He’s dined with moguls, emperors, princes. He’s consorted with bloodthirsty ruthless Queens in their courts, and whispered into the ears of powerful King’s, whose names still echo through millennia.

In his myriad of centuries gifted to his immortal self he’s been many many things. He’s been a lowly pauper. A crusading knight. An assassin. A sell sword. A soldier. A wanderer. A simpering suitor and a voracious unyielding lover. Aimlessly lost in time- besieging this earth. Ripping it apart and drinking what’s left.

He was made in the hinterland between snow and dirt and pine trees. Crusted with ash and blood and gouged from battle. Born anew. Sired from the hell-mouth of war. He was made in 789 AD.

He’ll come undone, one bitter winter night, in England, in 1816.

~ ~ 🥀 ~ ~

Everything was soft, and warm. Her whole being is snug and safe and lost. Completely lost to sleep and rest.

Mellowness spreading out through each of her limbs like warm embers of an amber fire or a splash of spicy whisky. As if she’s laying in a bath full of silk rose petals and perfectly warm water.

Best sleep she’s ever had in her life. She owes it to the influence of his being near.

Fur pelts and blankets wrapped around her as she’s slumbering on the velvet bench. Curled up in a swathe of them, Kylo smiles, she’s all bundled up, like a little burrowing bug. Her head slumped onto his strong shoulder. Fine wool of his coat scuffing her pale cheek red.

He had his arm around her back and every now and then leaned over and nuzzled his mouth and nose into her hair. Breathing in the plain perfume that he so adored. Kisses her brow. Hints of salty lavender and sage peppermint soap pouring off her. Her skin and her clothes all amalgamated into the encompassing scent of his Iris. The one that he never could resist. The one he knows so dearly by now.

He’s so glad she’s here.

She’s in his arms. It makes him smile he just can’t help it.

He slept a little - in fits and starts mostly. When she’s so warm and sweetly tempting laying her head on his shoulder how could he not? Nestles his nose into her hair and falls asleep too, with a smile on his face, and calm peace taking up his chest. Spreading through him like clouding smoke.

Every muscle in her body coaxed into that sleepy calm lull by a gently rocking motion that sent her engulfed into dreams, like a newborn being swayed in their rocking cradle.

Its the gentle pitch of the coach as it tumbles over rocky highland roads that does it. Crackles and jolts over the stony lanes that cut through the miles and stretching glory of the emerald glens and the heather strewn hills.

He flickers the curtain back from the window his side with his free hand, and milky sunshine spills gold into the scarlet cabin from a clouded heaven.

He peers out the glass, clouded sunshine snatched at his eyes. Quite a stunning vista awaited his attention. He’s used to fish filled lakes, mountain scenery and the lush impossible green of Bavarian landscape under a searing sky. He was made and formed and still sustained, all these years later, by bitter snow and cold rocky climes. Inbetween layers of sinking crushing snow and pine trees was he was formed. Moulded out of such a savage ground as that of his Nordic homeland.

Scotland has a hint of this too: a savagely beautiful terrain. A vast portion of its wilderness remained.

Hulking mountains, the glitter of a loch in the sunshine. Catching like a cascade of sapphires and diamonds in the sun. Dense forest woodlands and rolling hills crested with purple-pink heather. A native plant, as hardy as the landscape and people it sustains.

The sun chips through the clouds and dapples over the valley of the brown-tawny green mountains they’re travelling between. The loch lies spilled and landlocked in the middle. The sky is clear but the wind is howling and icy, and he can feel it’s bitter gale wrapping around the coach.

Scotland is a land he can recall very little of. His previous tours of England over the years kept him mostly in the southern regions. But he remembers some viking settlements on the coasts, in a time when his clans and kin ruled the seas. Pillagers, plunderers and warriors claiming the land for their own like a wandering pack of rabid dogs.

He remembers being at sea, seeing these shores coming into view. Cliffs clearing out of the misty horizon. Stood at the front of the langskip as it rowed him closer to a new land. Some slithers of his memory can still recall.

The woven tunic rasping his cold skin. The taste of sea salt crusted on his lips. Cruel heavy rain pelting into his braids and stinging his head like a thousand needles. The studded leather cuffs and tunic he wore cold from the exposed elements of a ruthless sea. His usual black fur wolf pelt lining his massive shoulders. He can recall how long his hair was back in those days. Braided and knotted and twined with silver ornaments. Kohl smeared on his already dark eyes. He made quite the picture of a savage.

He was on this island a mere two months before he sailed back home. And fate would set its hand on the path towards him being turned by Draegan during that portentous battle.

How different it all is now. Being here, in these very different, yet same, highlands, all these centuries later. With his perfect love of his life, under his arm. On their path towards matrimony.

However dishonourable their actions to get them here. He would’ve slaughtered the whole county if that’s what it took.

He strongly suspected her mother would be in such uproar by now, she’d send for the police or the local magistrate. He can see it now: some six-horse phaeton being governed at impressive speed, by a stony faced police duty constable, haring it down the hair pin roads after them. Mrs Ashton will have painted him the perfect black hearted villain of the peace. Seducing away her eldest daughter to ruin.

Kylo’s smirking at the thought. How correct it is. Except he will not be such a Byronic blackguard as to seduce her and then abandon her like a stray.

He will bed her with such fierce passion make her his Lady. And by god- this wedding can’t come soon enough for his liking.

He admires the scenery a moment or two longer. Before turning back to her.

He nuzzles his mouth to her forehead. Her warm creamy skin against his mouth and he takes a gentle kiss of it. “Dove?” He calls to her through her sleep. His voice a rumbling hush. Chipping through her engulfing pretty dreams.

Her eyelids flutter and she gently comes too - his mouth a loving press on her temple. His lips are a silky wisp on her skin and it makes a beautiful thrum of conscious delight run through her. He feels it pluck along every nerve in her spine. Like a knife carving and picking through stitched thread. His nearness undoes her so brutally.

Her eyes peel open and he watches the sunshine catch in them. Oakmoss and honey. “We are in the highlands?” She asks.

Voice eclipsed under a husky tone that sleep still clings to. He smiles at her. Tucks a straying curl of hair back behind her ear. Her cheek so pink and warm from her slumber.

“Take a look…” He gestured to the window with a casual nod. Smile glowing with love of her, in such an adorably mussed state.

She rubs the bleariness of sleep away and leans across him to admire the prospect.

The breath is quite snatched from her lungs.

She never knew the scenery of these British isles could differ. For years she’d been the landlocked country miss. So used to the frosted green-brown fields and flat valleys of the genteel farming countryside of the south. The unexciting stretch of her home county.

She never knew a landscape could be this vast. Such huge mountains with golden and green grass and purple heather crawling up them. So high they stabbed into the searing grey of the sky and snow dusts their tips where the icy wind blazes. She’s never seen such colour and brutality in such a vista before. It’s quite a refreshing sight to her innocent eyes.

She cranes her head to catch a glimpse of the loch sandwiched between the mountains. The severity of the grey sky fills the waters. But it still looks like a great stretch of Prussian blue ink. She feels like she’s seeing the world for the first time with wide open and educated eyes.

“Goodness…” She gasps in amazement. Kylo smiles looking at her sweet creamy profile bathed in sunlight. The clouds are roiling in temper in front of the sun, Grey and churning, interrupting the light pouring down from the heavens. Kylo suspects there will be rain soon.

She sits back and unfolds some of her cocooning blankets from her legs. She was quite warm enough when she’s holding his hand. Fingers sloped and tangled together in her lap.

“Whereabouts are we?” She enquires.

“Near Kinlochleven. That peak there…” he gestures out the window with a pointed finger. “Is called Ben Nevis. The highest peak in all of Western Scotland.”

“Without meaning to take a liberty; I thought we were intended for Gretna green?” She asks.

He chuckles and leans over to pluck a sweet kiss on the corner of her mouth. He pulls back and rests his forehead to hers. Nose nuzzled against her cheek.

“Take all the liberties you should like, my love. You won’t offend me so easily.” He tells her.

“I must confess I had considered that if your mother is hateful enough to send someone to stop our union, Gretna Green would be the first place she’d look.” He smiles cunningly.

“I thought we had better err on the side of caution.” He insists. “Not that slobbering hounds from the very bowels of hell could stop me marrying you-“ He drawls lovingly.

“But I thought it best to avoid a nasty encounter if there is one to be had.” He tells. “You don’t mind? Do you?” He seeks with a frown.

“Mind?” She repeats. She leans close and kisses his cheek.

“You could tell me our wedding is being hosted in a ditch and I’d still be delirious with joy.” She tells him.

He chuckles kindly at her sentiments. Smile crinkles up his eyes and cheeks. She wants to follow those sweet dimples with her fingertips. Like trailing well-work paths and lines and dips in a map. Skimming over roads travelled.

“I had planned for a little better than a ditch. I sought out an Inn that looked most comfortable. Rather rustic. I’m afraid it’s not going to be a grand manor house overrun with servants.” He tells her. Preferring honesty over catching her in a lie.

She’s still smiling. “I’m not a grand kind of woman. Cosy sounds wonderful.” She insists. She had no qualms about his doing or acting upon anything that could make her uncomfortable.

“I’d take a cosy wedding with you - over anything cold and grand and proper. Like my supposed wedding to Sergeant Hux would’ve been.”

She could see it all so clearly; a stifling preconception of wedded life.

A big society affair - Maratella and Mama would invite every old matron and stuffy Lord of their acquaintance within a fifty mile radius. Anything to show off the grandeur of the match. They’d be wedded under no less than a hundred pairs of eyes, and the odious, foul-breathed, Reverend Potter, watching them.

With a tepid kiss on the lips and duty done, the party would retire to a wedding breakfast hosted at Cavenham - Maratella would insist. They’d spend the wedding night there before setting off on honeymoon the next day. If there was to be one. Probably some boarding house in Brighton or something that wouldn’t remove them too far away.

Iris shudders at the merest intimation of bedding Hux.

He wasn’t repulsive but if his conjugal manner was as alike in every other cold attitude that he treated her. She was in for an uncomfortable procedure in consummating their marriage. It would be very polite, and sharp and quick. A fumble and an insulting rut and she’d be done with him.

He wouldn’t kiss her. Or lay into her with glimmering affection and wildly consuming love in his eyes. He’d do his duty and then she’s damn certain he’d have retired to his own bedchamber. Leaving her there, sore, bleeding and sticky-warm between her thighs. It completely crushed her heart to think that may have been her existence. Loveless encounters until she was beget with child.

He would never hold her. Never kiss her for pleasure. Never walk into a room she’s in, and not dream about taking her in his arms and kissing her like he won’t possibly survive if he doesn’t. He won’t take her hand and hold it the way Kylo is this very moment.

She doesn’t regret her choice. She’ll never regret her choice.

“I shall defer the grandeur until we get to Ranlor. And you will be cherished and spoiled and treated as a Lady should. As well you deserve to live.” He pledges.

Thoughts and the prospect of her new home fill her with giddy desirous joy. She blushes a little at the warm tone of his words.

“What’s Ranlor like?” She beams.

Oh, they’ve had many a courteous back-and-forth in ballrooms with every matron in the world breathing down their neck. Here there is no pretence or cautiousness;

She needn’t be worried she’ll be remarked upon for gazing at him too long. For smiling too much when he talks to her. He need not show less than what he feels for her. Here, like this, their love is unconfined.

It’s no one but the two of them and he’s absolutely full up of delight to remark upon it.

“It’s the one place I’ve had that’s ever felt like a true home to me. The downfall of an existence like mine. I’ve drifted through so many fine houses and châteaus and dwellings. Such a rootless way of spending life.” He begins.

“You would not want me should you have seen where I grew up. I was raised in a dim timber hut no bigger than ten metres square.” He chuckles lightheartedly.

“I can safely assure you. That wouldn’t deter me.” She tells to the handsome man who owns her entire heart.

She tentatively reaches up to skim her palm down his cheek. Can’t quite fathom that she can touch him like this- adore him. Admire him. All those things she never seemed able to do. Now they are all within her grasp.

He takes that dear sweet hand of hers and holds it to his lips for a second. Kisses her knuckles and a shiver of delight crosses her whole being. Rubs his fingertips along the smooth pink oval stones of her neat fingernails.

“Better finding a home at last than years of living in a place that never quite agrees with you.” She tempers softly. Her whole happy childhood spited and soured by her mothers greed for a good marriage.

He feels that comment deeply from her. “She was very wrong to take that feeling from you. Of your native land. Your centre of being.” He explains. “I should hope she is paying sorely for her mistake of you, and no less.” He observed spitefully. And he means it.

Iris doesn’t blame him for it - rather she empathises greatly. She smiles in her agreement.

“I hope Ranlor Castle will serve well. And in time that you may think of it as your home. Because I would want nothing less than your being satisfied and happy with it.” He hopes.

“The way you speak of it- I don’t see how I could not adore it already.” She tells.

“How long have you been in residence?” Fully expecting his answer to be of a shockingly long timeline.

“Since the late 1500’s.” He casually offers.

“Ranlor was an impulsive purchase of land. I admit. But I was sick of war. Of moving with army encampment from country to country. Sick of living in dirt and wet muck and fighting. I bought it because I wanted to wake up each morning and be the master of the land where I lay my head. To know the view I wake up too, is the same one I shall be greeted with at sunset.” He tells her very poetically.

“I’ve lived in attic garrets, huts made of straw and mud, and postage stamp sized rooms. But by that same token, I’ve stayed as a guest of honour at Versailles. Lived with princes and kings and queens and been a companion warrior to many number of emperors in my time.” He offers. “But in Ranlor I found I appreciated having a place to return to where everything surrounding me is entirely my own.”

Iris is blown away by the stories he must have to tell. “When we sup tonight, I absolutely insist you tell me about some of the places and the people you’ve seen. I am my fathers daughter after all. I am an unabashed glutton for history.” She chuckles.

He takes her chin and brings her face closer to his. Melts their lips into a slow bruising kiss. Passion sparks at her skin and it feels like it bruises her.

“How can I possibly deny such a request?” He drawls against her lips. Breath rasping against her scorched cheeks. Her blood simmering hot under her skin and the smell of it is beautiful-

“I want to know every intimate thing.” She begins. He bites back a groan. Good god, how she’ll have it…

“Keep kissing me like this Iris and I’ll give you anything you want…” He sighs in desiring agony into her lips and wraps his big fingers around the back of her head. Completely dwarfs her skull in his grip.

She clutched at his shoulder - otherwise she’s sure she’d simply float off up to the moon in bliss.

“Kissing you is more than enough. I am wholly satisfied by that alone.” She says when they break away. Not able to deny how alluring he is in this way-

Impassioned to the point of fever. His eyes as dark as storm clouds above them. Calls to mind things like granite, and crows feathers and black leather. Dark but light touches so deep. His lips are a raw sweet-cherry pink and he looks like the starving wolf about to gobble up a baby deer.

“We’ll be near to our Inn soon.” He comments. “We are but ten miles from it I believe.”

She smiles and lays her head on his shoulder. Happy to watch the scenery roll them by. Joining her hand with his again in their lap. He takes up a vast proportion of the velvet bench but she cuddles nicely into his side. He kisses her hair again and then turns and watch their coach rumble along the roads.

She could happily drift away again. The scent of him calmly infused into his clothes. His cologne and the soap and sandalwood oil he uses. Pine from the forest, thorny tumbling brambles full of rich, tart fruit, and an undercurrent of eucalyptus and mint. Rich delicious and earthy. And he is a man sprung from the salt of the earth. She adores how his roots are humble, and he’s come so far as to rise into a Lords title. It’s a quality she admires.

Not before long, houses to start to crop up out of this beautiful Scottish countryside. Low little stone houses and then suddenly a fine granite clad town is before them. A promenade of wooden shops socketed into grey brick buildings above. Full of wares and goods for sale.

It’s quite a bustling little town and the outcrop of the splendid mountains is it’s backdrop. The loch nearby for fishing. The land for hunting game and meat. This was a rich land in so many ways. Bursting with scenery and culture. So different from her sheltered upbringing.

The coach takes them along the centre of the road. Up the slope of a hill a little way. Past some more shops and dwellings and there it pulls onto a lane that leads them to a small brown stone building. Set back from the road with a swinging sign on a post announcing its name. A silvery depiction of an animal hangs on that signpost. The White Stag.

She smiles as the coach follows the curved road. Leading to a modest wooden porch. The place was tavern like in appearance. A small and long, squat stone building. Burrowing into the earth after many years of standing. There’s a pretty wilderness of garden surrounding it. Crumbling stone walls sprouting heather. Every window peers out across the wide plain of the glen before them. It’s an open terrain. Bare to the expanse of the elements. But when a place is so happily situated, Iris can’t think it could look anymore handsome.

The coach lumbers to a creaky stop. They gather themselves and step out. She puts on her bonnet, pulls her coat up her arms as he steps out. He turns back to offer her a hand down.

Their driver - a very obliging young lad from Hellford, Sampson was his name - was kind enough to see to their luggage. Even her meagre carpet bag.

He was a nice boy. Kylo had said he was eager to drive a coach, even in the driving snow and frost. Kylo wouldn’t want such an uncomfortable job but he seemed keen. He had a way with the horses. Had the touch with them. And Erland even likes him so that’s as high a praise as can be bestowed.

He was a beanpole lad with muddy hair and jug handle ears. Poky shoulders and a towering stature. Two reed thin legs shoved into his tall boots. Coat swathing his lanky body.

When they broke their journey to take luncheon at a roadside inn near Lancaster, and to feed and water the horses.Kylo insisted that they all seek some sustenance to keep them going.

The pair of them sit in the sunny window in the small, dim pub and share a platter of succulent honey roast leg of ham, cut into thick wonky sliced chunks of juicy meat, with golden roast potatoes and buttered leeks. Served with mugs of sweet crisp apple cider on the side.

The food was splendid and they smile and talk intimately - she found great joy in the fact that no one around them censured or took interest in them like back at home. With every pair of eyes watching permanently it seemed. They sit opposite each other, in the window alcove, around a wobbly pub table and she couldn’t be happier. Nor could he. The smiles on their faces reflect this fact.

Before they ate, Kylo excused himself and quickly went to the bar and said something to the kind serving maid. Slipped a coin into her hand. And came to sit back down next to her. She raised a brow. She knows what he’s just fixed.

Sampson seemed most grateful that they sent him a plate of meat stew, roast ham and a flagon of cider out to the mews for him. The dear boy stumbled and blushed and wrung his hat on his hands and told them it was most kind when they returned to the coach to continue their journey. He told Kylo his last employer wasn’t nearly so generous.

Iris overheard all this as she stood feeding oats to the horses - even though Kylo told her not to spoil them.

Erland was shifting with excitement that she’s fussing him. The silly old thing. Kana was still a reluctant girl. But she seemed fond of Iris all the same.

Kylo smiled at the young boy. Told him he was looking forward to what the young lad would make of the stables at Ranlor. For he was pledged to make the crossing with them.

He wouldn’t be staying in the inn with them. Kylo booked the boy comfortable rooms closer to town. Told him to have a rest whilst he and Iris get on with proceedings of marriage. But he’ll be there at the weeks end to take them to the port to make the ship.

He gathers their luggage. Manages easily even though he looked about as tensile in strength as a lanky wet rag. Kylo takes her arm and leads her into the Inn. She’s getting rather used to the dim glow of these places of late.

He holds the door for her and she ducks in first. He has to swoop low to avoid stubbing his head on the doorframe. Her boots and his clack on the clean flagstone floors. Recently swept she guesses. Every table was wiped and adorned with little vases of wildflowers. Framed pictures and etchings hang straight on the lumpy stone walls. A fire crackles gently in the open fireplace. Horse brasses pinned to the bar glimmer as if polished. Thick plum and grey tartan curtains float poker straight on the brass curtain piles above each window.

The place is clean and tidy and not full of rowdy drunks with straw and ale spewed across the floor. She simply adores that it’s a tavern that takes pride in its neat as a pin appearance.

A few men sit around some tables enjoying a drink in the cloudy milky sunshine of the window. There’s some chatter and laughter in the din of the room. It’s beautifully warm and the air smells like ginger and oats. Something delicious being baked in the kitchens no doubt.

A matronly woman, very pretty with a tumbling shock of frizzy greying red hair greets them from behind the bar. A beige wool dress and apron tied around her middle. She was very beautiful in her late age. A warm face with ruddy cheeks and a complexion that had seen just enough sun. Eyes were a healthy moss green. Her weight lay entirely in her wobbly plump hips. She carries herself proudly.

She’s wiping down the pristine oak bar surface before her. But she stops and smiles when she catches sight of them. Kylo in all his sheer dark mass was impossible to resist or ignore, after all.

“Good Morning, Sir. Miss.” She beams and nods at the both of them. Handsome scottish brogue in her voice sounds kind. Iris likes such gallantry. Most people didn’t bother greeting young ladies when men were present.

Kylo smiles at the woman. Doubtless she was the landlady. “I’m looking for Mrs McCormack, I’ve written to secure lodgings upstairs.” He asks her.

“Aye.” She smiles fondly. “You’d be Lord Ren and Miss Ashton, I presume?” She asks. Looks to the both of them.

“The very same.” He confirms. Stroking Iris’s hand where it lay resting on the crook of his arm.

“How wonderful it is to see you both. I must welcome you the highlands.” She smiles. Laying aside her cloth.

“You have a beautiful Inn, Mrs McCormack. I’ve never seen the like.” Iris smiles at her.

“You’re very kind miss. I thank ye. I take great care to keep my threshold clean and presentable as possible. Everyone here calls me Mrs M. So don’t you be afraid too. If you’d come this way I’ll show you to your rooms.” She nods. Moving behind the bar and out to the stairs set into the alcove of the wall near them.

Kylo lets Iris walk up first. Of course. Watches her smile as she eyes the frames on the wall and asks the kind Mrs M about the White Stag’s history and it’s stories as they all alight the creaky wooden stairs.

He listens to them talk as they walk along a creaky landing with cream wallpaper studded with scarlet roses smeared all over the thick walls. Candles and heavy curtains in every window. Shutters ready to block out the harshest of Scottish winter nights.

Mrs M leads them to a door with a worn gold handle and opens it for them, guiding them inside. Iris instantly sees what he meant about the rooms being cosy rathe than grand. It is cosy and she’s take this handsome room over any gilded grand manor bedchamber.

The walls are tumbling exposed gold bricks. The floors are ancient groaning oak. Worn and bleached an old grey from years of heavy treading boots. The double bed is the centre of the room. A huge soft mattress and downy pillows, foot of it laden with blue and green tartan blankets and a sheep’s skin draped across the end. The mahogany headboard cresting in waves at the foot and the head of the bed is carved and ancient and so very elegant.

There’s a ginormous fireplace at the end of the bed, across the room. Already lit. Popping sparks and blazing heat out into the sunny room. There’s an alcove of a window seat stuffed with cushions and another wool tartan rug. Juniper green cloth armchairs reside by the far wall surrounding a small end table. The room is undeniably snug and home-like. Emphasised in earthy tones of blue and grey and green. Very much like the dazzling highland hills in which it sits.

Iris is so quietly giddy with contentment. She also spies a door to a yet unseen anteroom.

“There’s a private dining room for your particular use through here. Though you’re very welcome to come down and fast in the tavern if you wish. We serve three hot meals a day if you should like. Our cook can make anything you fancy.” She promises.

Her keen eye then spots a crease in the bed linens which she frowns and steps across to smooth out. Iris can see she had a very discerning eye. Kylo lingers in the doorway behind them. Hands folded as he watches her take it in.

He observes as she walks across the room and peers through into the dining room Mrs M spoke of. It’s charming too. Red covered chairs, a long mahogany table. Candlestick of brass shines in the sun. Fire blazing by the dining table.

“Your washroom is just here too. For your convenience.” She moves towards a door opposite the head of the bed and opens onto a small chamber. Installed with a copper bath and a side table with a jug and basin and a screen. “Bessie is the chamber maid and she’ll attend ye’ with any water you’ll be needing.” She tells.

Iris loves it.

“It’s an exquisite room. Mrs M. We are very happy with it. Aren’t we, Kylo?” Iris smiles. Unlacing her bonnet.

He smiles at his intended. “We most certainly are.”

Mrs M seems fascinated with his first name. “Aye now that’s an interesting name. Your lordship.” She puts a hand on her aproned hip and surveys him with friendly curiosity. “I’d wager there’s some Scottish somewhere in your family tree wi’ a name like that.” She nods.

Kylo smiles. Iris’ slate and honey eyes glimmer warmly at him across the room in the cloudy light. Slight beams of it coming though the window are twirling lazily with dust. “There is some Norse I believe. Lingers far back with my ancient ancestors.” He tells their landlady.

“I would’na be surprised mi’lord.” She wagers with a fond grin.

“Oh. I’ll forget me own head next.” She explains. Rummaging into her apron pocket. Drawing out a heavy iron key. “Your room also has its own entrance. Though of course you may always come up through the tavern if you wish. Thats the key to door at the end of the landing there.” She points out the door. Hands the key over to Iris.

She then nods politely to them both. “It is nearly noon. Can I fetch you both a tray of tea? Cook just baked some shortbread I believe.” She smiles.

“That would be heavenly. Thank you.” Iris concludes. Setting her bonnet down on the bed.

“Might I also request you send your maid up to have the bath filled? My fiancée has had a long and tiring journey.” Kylo asks.

“I’ll send her up right away. Your lordship.” Mrs M insists. Moving to the door and shutting the latch softly after herself.

Kylo turns back to her after she leaves them. Iris has her back to him, slipping off her shabby blue coat.

He’ll have to get her another. She’ll be his Lady soon. She’ll need a finer coat than this beaten old thing. It gets stuck on her elbows. He walks across and aids her. Grips the back of her collar and helps guide it down.

She blushes when he leans down and holds her shoulders delicately as he kisses the join where he neck meets spine. A tendril of lose hair curls at his nose. He smiles against the back of her neck. Arms slipping down to draw her into an embrace. Big palms crossing at her stomach.

She places her hands over his. Savours the silence and the feeling of his solid comforting weight at her back. Enclosing her in love.

“You truly like the room?” He seeks. She conceals a blush - rather poorly - when she reflects that the bed she’s now looking at that they will be sharing. On their wedding night. He will bed her in this room and that thought makes her knees weak.

She twists in his arms. His palms rasp over her wool dress. Slides to her hips. She smiles sincerely up at him. “Truly. And I adore its surroundings. And especially its occupant at present.”

He smiles and leans down to claim her mouth in a sweet kiss. She’s so sweet. Sweeter than brown sugar and cream and tart fruit. He drinks of her lips like the greedy pillaging viking he absolutely is. He sucks and nibbles her bottom lip and holds her close when her knees wobble with it. Smiles and breaks the kiss remarking how weak his kisses make her.

“Have a nice long soak, and that cup of tea, my love. You’ll be stiff sore from sleeping in that coach on my shoulder.” He insists. “I may ride Erland into town to fetch a few things…” He tells her.

He had to take care of her, after all. He will not fail in that duty as others had. He was far too gallant. And in love-

She can’t deny how heavenly a soak will feel on her aching bones. And she did have a stiff neck- And although his coach was most comfortable, she is clad not to be in that jolting rumbling box for another night.

“To approach the subject not very delicately-” She starts. Wringing her hands for distraction. “When is the wedding ceremony?” She asks.

That makes him grin. “Four o’clock today. My love.” He smiles.

He wishes there was an artist here with a palette of oils and a bare canvas to hand; for her face is a picture.

“I had the banns read three weeks ago. Paid out a considerable sum to secure the church. All we need do is turn up to the chapel in our best, and the Reverend will wed us. Then and there.” He smirks.

Iris laughs. Smiling in disbelief. She places a hand to hold her middle. She feels almost faint with happiness.

“I think then, that I had better take to that bath.” She chuckles and blushes. He crosses back and kisses her cheek. Cups her neck and gives her a kiss that leaves her shivering long after he pulls his mouth from her.

“I won’t be long. Dove.” He promises. With one last kiss to her hand, he strides for the door and ducks out. “Drink your tea. Wallow in your bath. Make ready to marry me.” He smirks and winks.

Leaving her reeling with the force and memory of his insolently handsome smile.

The room feels doubly empty and so lifeless without him in it. There’s more oxygen without him. And she means that in a sincerely loving way.

When he’s here she’s aware of every smile, every move. Every touch he gives her is magnetic. She’s a bundle of blushes and nerves when he’s near. A giddy silly girl who trembles at the touch of his hand. Who hears the pounding of her heart hammer furiously in her chest when he’s near.

She does as he instructs. Mrs M sends the kind Bessie, the chamber maid, up with a tray of tea and then a big steel jug of hot water for her tiny copper bath.

She drinks the tea and nibbles a biscuit as she unpacks her meagre clutch of things from her luggage that Sampson brought up. As crimson appeared to be Kylo’s preferred colour; she chose accordingly. Hoping her gown wasn’t too crushed from it’s journey in the trunk.

She brought one good gown and a handful of plain cotton and wool ones. The one she would marry him in was a plain ruby-wine red. French Burgundy was the colour name.

It had a ruffle of demure lace stitched all around the scooping neckline and the brocade silk is gathered and stitched intricately at the back. Forming a beautiful slight train and cutting a severe figure. Her mother would have made a comment about it being a red dress. She couldn’t fathom the energy to care.

It makes her in such a passion she wants to pen a letter to her mother right then and there; tell her she’s marrying Lord Ren in a red dress. Like a harlot. See what she makes of that. She wants to watch her face crumble and her rage come snarling forth when Iris signs the letter as Lady Ren. See what her termagant of a mother makes of that…

She hangs it up to ready it for later. Smiles at the sight of it hung on the wardrobe door. Ready. As she should be- she hastens toward her bath.

The kind chambermaid was even so good as to leave a little organza pouch of dried heather and lavender on the side for her. With a little white pebble of honey and oat soap.

Iris catches sight of it as she unlaced her gown and rugged away her stays. She thinks it’s most kind of her to spare the expense of a little trinket. The steam of the piping hot water is muggy and sluggish in the air. Clouding up the mirror behind the jug and basin.

She sinks into the water. Lavender that she sprinkled into the tub spices up the air with its plain floral hint. She smiles gratefully as she submerged fully in the milky cloud of delicious heat. Rubbing the cake of soap along her arms and legs and sudsing up every inch. She does the same with her hair. Wets it and combs through a little oil. Scrapes her scalp with her nails and rubs the soap in and then rinses it.

She scrubs and scrubs until her skin is pink and every inch of her has been kissed and rubbed with soap. She climbs out and dries. Combs her hair out and rubs it. Repeating the process sitting by the small bath chamber fire until it feels significantly more dry. Ready for her to manage pinning into a coiffure. She could manage one on her own; Meg had taught her a few tricks over the years.

She pulls on a new chemise. A sleeveless one that would fit under the dress she’d chosen. She’s rubbing her hair with a flannel towel and takes her silver hair brush with her to go sit by the fire in their chamber. She brushes and brushes until her muddy locks look less and less like a wet soggy puddle.

She hears his treads on the cracking creaking stairs as he comes back.

The afternoon shifting later as the sun slides along behind the clouds. The door latch lifts from the other side and her handsome fiancé comes back in. Nudging the door open with his foot. For his arms are laden with boxes. His hair flounced by the wind and his cheeks pink from it too. His eyes were deviously bright with the exercise- it’s also because he’s caught her sat there in her shift with damply drying hair like some tempting forest nymph.

In all his dark coated glory, he completely fills the doorway to their chamber. His white shirt peers through the gap in his unbuttoned coat. A black cravat is knotted up his neck. Moulding into the stretch of his coat and his big polished boots peeling out where it ends at his calves.

Bessie comes after him. Carrying more boxes. Kylo gives her a coin and a smile of thanks. She bobs and scarpers quick and silent from the room.

Kylo looks across to his intended with a frown of confusion. Had he scared her? Or maybe she found their engaged state sharing a room to be shocking - some people were very strict on such matters.

“I think she is perhaps a little shy. And-“ she leaves her explanation there.

She merely gestures to how tall and big, and handsome, he is. He made Iris tremble in her skin with his smile, and she was years older than the serving maid. To an impassioned young girl prone to crushes and passing fancies, Iris imagines he’s an Achilles heel of blushes and furtive glances. She thinks of her sisters’ reaction to him. All lashes and rosy smiles. Like gardenias coming into bloom for the sun.

He makes a noise of agreement. And that’s when he brings around his arm that had previously tucked behind his back. He brings around a bouquet of flowers. Tied with a grey ribbon that reminded him of her eyes.

“I cannot allow my beautiful bride to be flower-less on her wedding day.” He explains. Setting them before her in her lap as he crouched in front of her.

She is touched beyond words. She grips the flowers and lifts the blooms up to her nose to drink in their scent. Purple thistles, pink and mauve heather, bluebells and wild violets. Harebell and myrtle and a Scottish primrose. A beautiful clutch of green, white, purple and blues.

“They’re beautiful.” She comments. Stroking her fingers along the frail petals. Their nectar and greenery spicing up the air.

“Thankyou.” She sighs onto his lips as he leans in for a slow kiss. He stays on his knees for her - the only way she could reach his lips.

“I fetched some other things for you…” he explains. Taking her hand and pulling her up. He leads her to the bed and her heart thumps a tad faster - thinking they’ll be doing this later on tonight, in a handful of hours, for entirely different reasons.

He shows her the collection of items he’d purchased.

Save for two gold wedding rings - it’s all for her. She is speechless.

There’s three new exquisite silk and lace gowns. An entirely new Scottish-wool coat. Parchment, ink and quills for any letters she wishes to write. Some ribbons and hair pins and pretty silver baubles and combs to decorate her hair coiffures. Five pairs of embroidered stockings, and some round little cakes of oat soap.

Her mouth gapes as she looks to him. He shrugs and offers an explanation - Looking deuced too smug. “You deserve trinkets aplenty to remember your wedding day by.” He explains handsomely. She holds his hand. Quite stunned and not knowing what to say.

No ones ever told her she deserves to be spoiled before. It’s quite a new sensation for her to fathom.

“It’s not a day I’ll be forgetting in any hurry. Believe me.” She tells him.

She sees his eyes dart across the room to where her wedding dress is awaiting being worn. Hung on the door. He smiles fondly at her choice. Looks back to her.

“I can help you with your gown fastenings if you’d like?” He asks. Voice uncharacteristically husky.

She rises to meet his challenge. “If you’re offering.” She smiles. Bravely looking him in the eye.

She turns away and breaks the spell his eyes cast. Walks across and fetches her dress. Steps over to him and he encloses it around her after she steps into it. The fastenings already loose.

He slides it to skim over her hips. Up past her waist. Rests it at her waist and pulls the two sides together over her shoulders.

The way she tugs her hair aside makes his mouth water. Throat bobs where he swallows.

Lovers have done that for him before- countless times and countless lovers- But her doing this, nearly undoes him.

He focuses on his task. Tugs on the hidden laces at the back of her dress. Laces her into it, closing the ties at her shoulders. Eyeing the curve of it that cut around her lovely shoulders. Ruby red against her creamy skin. It’s too tempting to even indulge that certain route of his thinking-

He works efficiently. Fingers brushing the brocade silk and her back. The scent of lavender and spicy oat soap tantalising him as he laboured in this favour for her. He gets to the last tie and he mourns being able to be this close. Parts by stroking his hands down her back, the span of his fingers meet her waist easily. He kisses into her tumble of still drying hair. Inhales her. Cherished the moment of him being pressed against her back.

He called for the bath to be refilled when he came back- and honestly the chambermaid was too damn efficient. Her knock rattled the door and kylo blinks and nods her to come in. Their lusting spell is broken again.

Iris flushed and steps away to round the side of the bed to fetch a pair of stockings. Holding her skirts aloft.

The sight of the curve of her ankle sends his mind reeling into the squalid plains of Male frustration. He swallows and lets the maid fill the bath for him. He was in need of a scrub too. Not exactly covered in the grime and dust of the road but he’d relish the chance to run some soap over his skin before his wedding ceremony.

When he looks back to his beautiful intended, she is sat in the window alcove that’s stuffed with cushions and a tartan rug. Framed by sunlight. Hair turned into spun bronze and gold. Eyes sparkling like polished moonstone. She’s looking down in her lap, with two ivory embroidered stockings in her hands. Running a thumb over the garter ribbon. It was a soft blue. He likes blue on her.

He tries not to envisage that particular part of her anatomy that the stockings will rise up to, too much. He waits for his bath to be drawn and counts down the frustrated and rife minutes as they pass, like the truly impatient Lord he is.

#between wolves & doves #vampire!kylo #kylo ren x oc #adam driver #Regency era #slow burn

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clumsyclifford · 4 years

Text

i know that you’re so afraid

and it’s getting late, 'but i'll stay 'til you come down.

Luke lets himself in and is met with wreckage and a scream that is so guttural, so primal, that for a moment he feels truly afraid. (Or, Ashton's never been like this, and he's falling apart.)

TW mostly for lots of angst and crying and such. however also contains ashton yelling for a moment so if men yelling is something that triggers/upsets you then maybe skip this one. title from come down by noah kahan.

part 1 (tumblr) // part 2 (tumblr)

read it on ao3 here

Luke lets himself in and is met with wreckage and a scream that is so guttural, so primal, that for a moment he feels truly afraid.

Then there are sobbing sounds, the gut-wrenching kind that only ever happens when you’re home by yourself and everything has gone wrong, and Luke thinks maybe he understands a little better.

Gingerly, he steps over the throw pillows discarded in front of the door, picking them up as he goes. The living room is in a state of total disarray. Every blanket, pillow, and cushion they’ve ever had on any couch has been yanked off and unceremoniously tossed into a different corner; there are shreds of paper like oversized snowflakes littering the ground. In the middle of it all, on his knees, chest heaving and body shaking with his face in his hands, is Ashton.

“Ashton?” Luke says softly, and Ashton doesn’t look up. He makes a noise, though, a groan that sounds helpless and despairing.

“Fuck,” Ashton says, in a trembling voice. He rubs his hands furiously over his face and pulls one through his hair, which is unruly, like he’s been moving around a lot and hasn’t checked his reflection yet. “Fuck, you — you weren’t —”

“We finished early,” Luke says calmly. “What happened here?”

Ashton shakes his head. “Leave and come back, I’ll — I’ll clean up.”

“Don’t worry about cleaning up,” Luke says.

Ashton grunts viciously and pushes himself to his feet. “Go, please go,” he begs, “I’ll — please.”

He sounds scared, and that makes Luke scared. There are tear tracks all down Ashton’s face, glistening over angry red scratch marks, like he’d tried to claw the tears off. “Take a deep breath.”

“Don’t fucking tell me to take a deep breath!” Ashton shouts, and then his face falls into his hands again. “Luke, please, I’m not like this, I don’t want you to see me like this. Please leave. Please.”

“I live here too,” Luke says. “And I’m not leaving you like this.”

Ashton presses the heels of his palms into his eye sockets. “I don’t want this. Please go away.”

Luke moves gently towards Ashton. “You won’t hurt me.”

“Of course I won’t,” Ashton says helplessly, “but look at the fucking state I’m in —”

“Don’t stop on my account,” Luke says. “Keep throwing shit. Scream all you want.”

Ashton shakes his head, and a sob escapes through his lips unbidden. “Luke, I just need to be alone.”

“I don’t think you should,” Luke says carefully, stepping closer and closer. Ashton doesn’t move until Luke is within arm’s reach, until Luke reaches out hesitantly to touch his shoulder, and then he collapses into Luke, crying harder than Luke’s ever heard anyone cry. The sound tears at Luke’s chest, tugs mercilessly at his heartstrings.

“I’m sorry,” Ashton cries into his shoulder, “I’m so sorry, this is the worst of me.”

There’s nothing to say, really. This is the worst of Ashton, and Luke doesn’t love him any less for it. “It’s okay,” he whispers, holding Ashton tightly, like that will keep him from falling apart any more. “It’s okay. I know. I’m here, I’ve got you.”

Ashton won’t stop apologizing, and he also doesn’t stop crying for a good five minutes. Luke scans the living room over Ashton’s shoulder as he gently cards through Ashton’s hair. It looks like a tornado has ripped through the place. Something really, truly upsetting must have happened. More than one thing, maybe. In all the years they’ve known each other, Luke has never known Ashton like this.

“What happened?” Luke says quietly, when the broken sobs have turned into irregular whimpers and Luke feels exceedingly warm from Ashton’s body heat, numb from Ashton’s weight clinging to him. “Is there anything I can do?”

Ashton sniffs. “Mum called,” he says weakly. “Lauren’s in the hospital. Tripped and cut her leg and she had to get stitches.”

“Oh, Ash,” Luke breathes. It hurts Luke to know that Lauren is hurt; he can’t imagine how bad it must feel for Ashton.

“I can’t be there for her,” Ashton says, sounding angry and hopeless and defeated all at once. “I can’t go. I’m stuck here. Even if I left the minute I got the call, by the time I got there she’d be out.” Luke presses a kiss to the junction between Ashton’s shoulder and neck, and the tension seems to drain a bit from Ashton’s body. “I miss her, and I miss Harry and my mum and — and I miss Sydney so much, don’t you miss home, Luke?”

Luke nods. Generally he tries not to think about how much he misses home, tries not to think about how even after all this time, home is still Sydney, not LA. It hurts, all the more because there’s not a lot Luke can do to remedy it. He can visit, sure, but if he wants to sustain this career he has — if he wants to live his dream — the chances of him ever moving back home are slim to none.

“You can still go,” he tells Ashton, rubbing rhythmic circles into his back, over the rough cotton of his shirt. “And she’ll be okay, you know. It’s going to be okay.” Ashton shakes his head and pulls away from Luke, unreadable from all the emotions flitting across his face.

“I know she’ll be fucking okay, Luke, but I can’t be there when she’s not!” he snaps. Luke tries not to flinch. He’s not scared of Ashton, but he can see how someone could be, in a moment like this. Ashton notices anyway, because Ashton always notices, and he squeezes his eyes shut, fresh tears trekking down his face. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m — I told you I didn’t want you —”

“Ashton, Ashton, no,” Luke says, bringing a hand up to Ashton’s face and tilting their foreheads together. Ashton’s erratic breath leaves staggered puffs of air against Luke’s face, and Luke thinks he might cry, too, except he can’t, because Ashton is crying. They can’t both fall apart; there’d be no one to pick up the pieces. “No. I’m not scared of you. You’re upset. You’re allowed to be upset. Your sister’s in the hospital.”

“I can’t be like this with you,” Ashton whimpers. “You’re all I have, and I’ll scare you off —”

“I’m not all you have, and you could never scare me off,” Luke interrupts. The tears on Ashton’s face are tracing the outline of Luke’s thumb as they make their way down his cheek; Luke cradles Ashton’s face as delicately as he can and wipes the tears away. “We can both go. Even if you get there after she’s out, she’ll be happy to see you.”

“I’m useless,” Ashton says hoarsely, “can’t do anything, can’t even be there to hold her fucking hand while they stitch her up —”

“They wouldn’t let you be there for that anyway,” Luke says. “Ashton. Ash. I’m — I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

Ashton breaks down again, falling limp against Luke, and Luke lets him cry it out. He doesn’t say anything. There’s nothing that bears saying. This news is poison, and Ashton needs to flush it out.

“Aren’t you scared?” he murmurs brokenly into Luke’s neck. Luke exhales.

“Of you? Never.”

“I am,” Ashton whispers. “I don’t want this to be me, but I think it is.”

“This isn’t you,” Luke says firmly. “If it were, I’d have seen it a lot sooner. You’d have done it a lot sooner.”

“I tore up my songwriting notebook,” Ashton confesses, sounding terrified to say it out loud. “After I hung up with my mum, I tried to write — I thought maybe — if I could put it in words, but — I can’t. I couldn’t. I was so angry I just — I just ripped it in half. Tore up all the pages.”

That’ll be the scraps of paper all over the floor, then. “It sounds like you needed to rip something up.”

“What kind of person am I that I need to break something when I’m upset?” Ashton says, horrified.

“Don’t do this,” Luke says, tracing arbitrary lines and shapes into Ashton’s back as if he’ll unlock the pattern to make Ashton feel better. “You weren’t just upset. You’ve had a bad day. Bad week. And you haven’t done anything about it. It built up. That’s normal.”

“But what if you’d been here?”

Luke doesn’t know. What if he had been here? Would Ashton have kept it to himself, retreated to his room to cry in solitude? Or would he have screamed anyway, filled the house with heart-wrenching cries, demolished the living room as Luke stood by and watched?

Luke wonders which would be worse.

“Don’t do that either,” Luke says. “I wasn’t here. I am now. You went a little crazy. You’re allowed.”

Ashton huffs, and Luke thinks maybe, just maybe, there’s a laugh hidden somewhere in there. “That’s a nice way of putting it.”

Luke leans away and presses a kiss to Ashton’s forehead. “Can you breathe?” Ashton nods. “Want me to look up flights to Sydney?” Ashton nods again, leaning his head heavily against Luke’s, rough hands wrapping around Luke’s neck like a lifeline, like a noose, like both. Luke thinks he would die for Ashton, if it came down to it; not figuratively, but actually trade Ashton’s life for Luke’s own, and of all the scary things of today, that one is the biggest. He takes a deep breath. “Okay. I can do that. We’ll clean this up later. How about we order pizza for dinner, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Ashton mumbles. “I’m so fucking sorry, Luke.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Luke says. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I know this isn’t you, and I know you feel badly, but you don’t have to be sorry, not to me.”

“But I am anyway.”

“I forgive you,” Luke says, even though there’s nothing to forgive. Ashton closes his eyes and breathes out like someone’s just released pressure on his chest. “Please don’t be sorry anymore. You haven’t done anything that bears forgiving. I forgive you for nothing.”

“Thank you anyway,” Ashton says, deathly quiet. “I’m so — I don’t know what I would do without you, Luke. I really don’t.”

“Lucky for you, you never have to find out,” Luke says, pulling Ashton into a hug. “I’ll find a flight and we’ll bring a bunch of ridiculous presents to Lauren, and we can stay for a little bit. You’ll see them soon. It’ll be good for you.”

“As long as you’re there,” Ashton says softly. “You keep me together.”

You keep me together too, Luke doesn’t say, even if they both know it’s true. That’s the deal, I think.

He closes his eyes and listens to Ashton’s breathing, finally steady, counting the seconds between each inhale. It’s more soothing than the ticking of a clock, and it washes over Luke. This should scare Luke, but it doesn’t: if he could, he’d measure his own breaths against Ashton’s, so when they stopped, so would his.

#this is really upsetting i have to say #but you would not BELIEVE the day i had that led me to write this #was it terrible? YES IT WAS!#luke hemmings #ashton irwin #lashton #lashton fic #5sos #5sos fic #fic #my fic #emo lashton #this series has gotten SIGNIFICANTLY more emo #the first installment is like. NOTHINGGGG compared to the second and third #and i am sorry for that #can you tell i am goin thru it #i literally had a terrible day #i mean my sister isnt in the hospital #fun fact though she WAS in the hospital #oh these tags are spoilery SORRY i take it back nobodys in any hospitals #anyway this is for sam #can you believe im posting a fic like four hours before im going to be posting a chapter #maybe ill post the hello hello chapter tomorrow night #just to space stuff out a little more #im always like 'i should save some fic and not post stuff the moment i write it'#and then i never do that #thats a LIE actually i still have post you blues in my ao3 drafts #youll get that eventually............#probably before august 30th because i think thats when the draft expires #i dont know how to like fuckin. renew a draft

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talkfastromance4 · 4 years

Text

For Your Eyes Only–bodyguard!ashton [Chapter Six]

Summary: Ashton Irwin is the head of security for Princess Alouette who is a kind, gentle young woman. Secretly pining for one another, those feelings will soon come to light as an occurrence will change Alouette’s life forever, and Ashton’s.

Word count: 3,060

Warnings: slight trauma

Author’s note: So sorry for the long wait and how this is sort of short but I PROMISE next chapter will be longer! Thank you for reading! Any feedback is much appreciated! I also decided on the name of her country, it’s Chadria :)

Masterlist

Chap. 1 || Chap. 2 || Chap. 3 || Chap. 4 || Chap. 5

Three days after Alouette was brought home, she decides to make an address to Chadria about what had happened to her. Ashton had tried to push it off because she’s still not at 100% but she said she’d been away from her people for too long, she needed to explain.

“It will be a short recording,” she tells him softly. Her voice still has cracks like broken glass. She hasn’t fully opened up to Ashton about what really happened but he wasn’t going to push. “I only want to tell them I’m in recovery and that I appreciate all their love and support.”

“I think it’s a great idea, Alou,” Michael agrees next to her bedside.

“You haven’t called me that since we were kids,” she smiles reminiscing the times they would run around the castle grounds together.

Ashton glares at Michael who is still staring fondly at the Princess. This is the most herself she’s been since they brought her home. Her bruises are still dark and looming but the cuts on her face are healing nicely. Dr. Hunt visits once a day and makes sure Rosa is cleaning around the stitches on her back and putting ointment on them.

Her back is in the worst condition according to Dr. Hunt. In total she has fifty-four stitches on her back shared between three deep wounds. Ashton hasn’t seen them but it makes him angry each time he thinks about it; she shouldn’t have had to endure any of this.

“You are my Princess, but you were my friend first,” Michael explains with a shrug.

“Call me that from now on, okay?” She smiles again then winces.

Ashton checks his watch, it’s time for her to take her pain medication. He steps in her bathroom to retrieve the pill bottle, she’s only been taking half of one every six hours. The first day after the sedative was out of her system, she tried a full one but it messed with her head as she said. It made her dizzy.

Half a pill seemed to do the trick.

He pops the top back on then fills a glass with some water then heads back to her bed. Alouette tries to sit up but it’s hard to do with her pain so Michael helps her by holding onto her elbow.

“Thank you,” she thanks him then looks up at Ashton, his eyes are full of concern. He’s had the same look for the last three days and she worries he’ll have that look on his face forever.

“What’s your number at?” Ashton asks softly handing her the pill then the glass.

She pops the pill on her tongue then gulps down some water until she swallows the pill. He came up with a number system to signify her pain level. One is the worst pain imaginable and ten is no pain at all.

“I think a four?” she hands him the glass back and settles into her covers again.

“What was it yesterday?” Michael asks looking between Ashton and Alouette.

“Two,” Ashton sighs setting the glass on her bedside table.

“Four’s better than two,” Michael smiles brightly and Alouette nods.

“Can you tell Victor I’d like to film at four o’clock? And broadcast it at seven,” she tells Ashton.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to do this, we can have Claudette speak on your behalf. I don’t want you to strain yourself, angel,” Ashton’s eyes are sad as he looks at her.

“I’m sure. I’ll be quick, I promise. I need them to know I’m okay.”

She lifts her right hand and Ashton takes it in his own, he frowns at how cold she feels. It’s like she can’t warm up anymore.

“I’ll go find Victor and let him know. You’ll be okay with Michael until I get back?”

“I’ll tell her the funny shit Luke’s been up to,” Michael laughs and Alouette giggles quietly.

Normally none of them would ever swear around her, but Michael has been acting more like her friend than one of her bodyguards and she likes it. It’s a new sense of normal and takes her mind away from the constant thoughts and memories of what happened in that room.

•••••

Alouette needed help moving to the conference room on the first floor where she would record her address. She disregarded her make-up team coming to do her face up. She didn’t want to hide what she looked like.

“Whenever you’re ready, Your Highness,” Victor says from behind the camera.

Ashton is off to the side with Michael next to him. Alouette’s eyes are closed as she takes three deep breaths then opens her eyes slowly. She nods to Victor and he points his thumb up when the camera is rolling.

“Hello, my lovely Chadrians,” she greets delicately. “I would first like to say thank you from the bottom of my heart for all of your love and well wishes. As most of you know, I was kidnapped while I was in Paris and held hostage for five days. And, as you can see I’m still in recovery,” she sighs, her voice shaking slightly. “Until I am fully recovered, I am having my most trusted advisors handle my duties. I am hoping it won’t be too long until I am back speaking with you all. Thank you for your patience and your kindness, and I’m sending all my love to you.”

Alouette kisses her fingers then blows the kiss to the camera and nods to Victor who stops recording. She falls forward, catching her head in her arms on the table in front of her and Ashton is by her side instantly.

He lifts her head carefully, she smiles tiredly at him.

“Are you in pain?” he asks rubbing her cheek with his thumb.

“A little. It’s my back,” she whispers, eyes fluttering.

Ashton peers at her back, his heart jolts at the sight of a red spot on her lower back. Her stitches must have pulled apart. He kneels beside her chair keeping her head up in his palm, her eyes are still struggling to stay open.

“That was great, Alou—what’s wrong?” Michael asks quickly behind Ashton.

“Some of her stitches must have opened up, can you page Dr. Hunt for me? I don’t want to move her and risk pulling others open,” Ashton turns to look at Michael who nods and pulls out his phone. Ashton turns his attention back to Alouette. “Number?”

“Zero,” she whispers and her eyes close.

“No, no, keep your eyes on me, angel. Look at me, come on,” he urges lifting her head a little higher. “Let me see those eyes.”

He faintly hears the film crew bustle out of the room and he pinpoints Rosa’s voice but all his attention is on Alouette. He continues to stroke her cheek and talk softly to her so she stays awake, he captures stray tears as they fall.

“’m so tired, Ash,” she says weakly.

“I know. Dr. Hunt will be here soon and fix your stitches, then we’ll go back to your room so you can rest,” he tells her gently.

Ashton makes eye contact with Dr. Hunt and Rosa as they peel Alouette’s long sleeve shirt up, he glances quickly at her back but looks to her eyes quickly. His stomach rolled at the sight of blood on her blue and purple skin.

Dr. Hunt works quickly with the aid of Rosa who is also speaking quietly to Alouette in Spanish. Dr. Hunt places white bandages on each of her wounds just in case more of her stitches would pull apart.

“She should stay in bed and move as less as she can,” Dr. Hunt informs. “How is she on the pain medication?”

“Doing better now that she’s only taking half, is she all right if I carry her back to her room? Or will the open the stitches again?”

“Just be careful,” Dr. Hunt warns packing up his things.

As soon as Alouette is in Ashton’s arms, her head falls against him and her eyes fall shut. He moves quickly but carefully back up to her room and with Rosa’s help of pulling her blankets back, he sets her down into her bed. He checks his watch, it’s time for her to take her medication.

He has to help her by placing the pill on her tongue and tipping the water into her mouth. She splutters slightly before swallowing water and pill, Ashton wipes her mouth with the sleeve of his shirt.

Rosa dabs at the corners of her eyes as she watches the whole exchange. She’s been with Alouette since she was a young girl and it isn’t hard for Ashton to imagine how difficult this must be for her.

“Thank you, Rosa,” Ashton says as she lays Alouette onto her pillows. “I’ll make sure she’s all right while she sleeps.”

Rosa kisses Alouette’s forehead, brushes back her hair then nods to Ashton. Her lower lip trembles and the door closes with a soft snap.

Ashton collapses into the chair by her bed, he’s pretty sure it has the indents of his body by now. Alouette rolls over facing him, her eyebrows are creased as her hands pat on the bed in front of her. Ashton captures her hands.

“What do you need, angel?” he asks.

“You,” she tugs on his hands and he slips onto the bed next to her. He’s careful where he places his hands, she’s a lot more fragile now.

•••••

He hears her screaming for his name and Ashton runs as fast as he can but it’s like he has cinderblocks for feet. He pushes forward as hard as he can but he can’t reach her. Her screams become louder and shriller and then there’s silence.

He hears whimpering again and feels something shake his shoulder. His name is being called, a distant echo.

Ashton awakes with a start, he’s still hearing his name but he can’t possibly still be dreaming can he? He blinks the cloudy sleep from his eyes then hears Alouette crying next to him. He flicks on the light next to her bed finding Alouette’s face scrunched in a grimace.

He’s on high alert and touches his fingers lightly to her face trying to smooth out the creases calling her name softly until her eyes flash open. She stares in shock at the ceiling.

“I’m right here, angel,” Ashton murmurs tracing his fingers from her forehead down to her chin then back again until her blue eyes zero in on him. Recognition flashes across her features then her fingers find his in between their bodies.

“I couldn’t find you, you weren’t coming,” she cries. Tears fall freely and Ashton wipes each one away while he squeezes her fingers.

“It was just a bad dream. I’ll always come for you, angel. Even if you don’t want me to,” he smiles at a memory. “Remember when I first became your guard?”

He could see her eyes were still tormented with whatever she dreamt of so he continues to stroke her face and comb through her hair as he continues the story.

“It was six months before your twenty-first birthday and I’d heard talk about you, obviously, before I took my post. Michael told me stories. So I was surprised to see how you reacted to me those first few months. I thought you hated me,” he chuckles tracing her chin with the tip of his finger.

“The first time we went to Spain to visit Neva and you went to that club you kept dodging me and getting out of my sight. I thought all I’d heard was a big lie because you were so stubborn with me and wouldn’t listen when I talked. Then, when paparazzi were outside the club and you realized how revealing your dress was, you asked me to lend you my jacket.

“Little did you know that that was why I was chasing you around and you got this pretty blush on your cheeks,” his fingers skim over the apple of her cheek. “Since then, I’ve wanted to see that color on you.”

“I was running because I had a crush on you,” she admits quietly. “Mikey told me about you, too and I was nervous to have a guy so close in age to watch me like a babysitter. It made me feel like a baby.”

Ashton cracks a smile then disappears just as quickly when he remembers her stitches and if she were in any pain.

“Let me check your stitches angel.”

He helps her sit up and doesn’t see blood on her shirt so he lays her back down gently. Alouette places her hand on the scruff of his cheek, his body stills but his heart races. It always races when she touches him.

“Do you need your medication?” he breathes.

She shakes her head, her thumb travels to the spot beneath his eye.

“You were having a bad dream, too. What happened?”

With his eyes on her he turns his mouth to her palm and kisses it lightly three times.

“I couldn’t get to you,” he answers sadly.

“How strange we’d dream the same thing.”

•••••

Alouette has been gaining her strength back slowly. She’s getting restless being cooped up in her room but Ashton has been with her so she can’t really complain too much.

“Can we go outside and sit on the swing?” she asks hopeful, her eyes doe-like as she looks up at Ashton while she finishes her orange juice. “I need to see my fish.”

Ashton wipes the corners of his mouth with a napkin from his own breakfast. “What’s your number today?”

“Seven. Please, Ashton, I need to be outside. My bed is beginning to get an imprint of me on it permanently.”

He chuckles gathering their plates on the tray and sets it on her dresser. “We’ll go outside. I’ll call Rosa to help you change.”

“I can do it,” she shakes her head and throws the blankets off her.

She swings her legs to the side and off the bed, Ashton is by her side immediately because she almost falls to the floor. Their arms latch onto each other tightly, they’ve become even more accustomed to each other these last couple days.

“I’m okay, I got a head rush,” she says quickly. “I can still go outside, I promise.”

“I know,” he smiles adoringly at her. “Are you sure you can get dressed?”

“Yep, just a sweatshirt and leggings.”

He waited outside her door while she changed, it took a little longer than normal but he knew she’d be stubborn and wouldn’t let anyone help her. When the door opens she smiles at him reaching for his hand then leans into him as they head down the hallway.

The workers in the palace smile and greet her warmly, some of them hug her with tears in their eyes. She’s loved by so many and her kidnapping affected everyone in Chadria. Ashton helps her continue to walk and decides to use the elevator so she won’t have to use the stairs.

“Alouette, where are your shoes?” he asks exasperatedly when they exit the French doors to the grounds. The lake isn’t too far away.

“I need to feel the grass, Ashton,” she says simply and that’s that on that.

He steers her to the swing but she pulls on his hand slightly, her eyes fixed on the water. He knows what she wants so he lets her hand go as she continues her way to the water’s edge, her feet curling into the sand.

Ashton watches her in amazement, she still looks too thin for his liking but he can see the strength in her. The mid-June breeze ruffles her hair and she stands still as a statue, the water lapping onto her toes. He sees her inhale deeply then her shoulders hunch forward and he can hear her sobs from his spot carry through the breeze.

He rushes forward collecting her in his arms, cradling her head against his chest letting her cry and release the emotions she’s been burying. She’s been keeping it together because that’s what she was taught to do--that’s what royalty does--hide their emotions. But he knows Alouette feels things so deeply because she’s an emotional person and that’s what makes her loved by so many.

“Shh, shh,” he hushes rubbing her back and kisses her hair. “It’s okay, let it out, you’re safe.”

They stand there for moments longer until her breathing becomes more even, he cradles her face in his hands, his thumbs wipe her tears away.

“I’ve been waiting for you to break through,” he smiles lightly.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that—“

“No, you needed to. You went through so much, Alouette and no amount of royal training can keep this at bay. You’re human, you’re experiencing a trauma. I hate how it happened on my watch, I made a rookie mistake and it almost cost your life.”

“Don’t blame yourself,” she shakes her head holding onto his wrists. “Please?”

“Easier said than done, sweetheart,” he smiles wistfully then kisses her forehead. “Want to head inside or stay out here?”

“Let’s stay out here. Bring the dogs out, I want to play with them,” she sniffs.

“All right.” He releases her face then takes out his phone to text Calum to bring her dogs out.

Benvolio, Duchess and Daisy run as fast as they can to where the Princess is, their tongues lolling out and they’re whining with how happy they are to see her. She kneels in the grass kissing and hugging each one as best she can, her voice is soft and loving.

“Come sit with me,” she tells Ashton and he sits beside her and the bench. He leans against it while Alouette leans against him.

Benvolio licks Ashton’s face causing him to giggle before patting his ears.

“Hey buddy, good to see you.”

The pair sits outside for who knows how long, her dogs are also laying on top of her and his legs while they converse quietly. When Alouette yawns Ashton says it’s time for her to take a nap and get some more rest.

The dogs trot around them as they head inside with Ashton helping her go upstairs.

______

Taglist:

@rotten-kandy

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rosecolouredash · 5 years

Text

Momentum ; Hockey!Cashton

Summary: Anything your boyfriend did on the ice, you also did on the ice. When dating a hockey player, you had to be ready to carry every victory and every mistake home with you. So imagine dating two.

Warnings: fluff, so soft (duh), sports-related violence.......

Notes: So I have three unfinished one shots for the hockey!au but I’ve hyped this one up the past few days so it moved to the top of my ‘to finish’ list. Hopefully, it doesn’t disappoint. Also, fun fact: this was originally just a hockey!calum fic (Eve, you should know the ONE) with some minor changes…I’ll leave it at that so that y’all can just read. Enjoy ☺️

It was the Saturday morning skate before the game, that evening, against the Hornets. Since the skate was optional, not everyone from the Timberwolves had shown up, with some players opting to rest or avoid the rink before the big matchup. Unfortunately, you couldn’t say the same for you and your two captain boyfriends.

The continuous loop of skates on ice, whistleblowing and playful banter between teammates were all white noise to you. Sitting in one of the arena’s many seats, you tried to keep your focus on the textbook in your lap. You had an upcoming exam and watching the team practice was not going to stop you from achieving a decent enough grade. Breathing out a sigh, you made note of where you were on your page and stole a glance towards the ice. You could pick out Ashton and Calum, even in a large group of boys, wearing identical jerseys. Though the block letters of ‘C’ and ‘A,’ respectively on their left breast, were a huge giveaway.

Once after a game, you joked with them about the irony of having each other’s initial stitched over their hearts, a showing tell that they belonged to one another, but what about you? That night they made sure to remind you of their feelings for their sweetheart; branding you through peppered kisses and love bites discreetly placed.

—

It was a couple hours in, that your mind began to wander again. Most people would be deterred to spend so much time at the ice rink, especially with the low temperatures but you had grown accustomed to it throughout the years. It also helped that there was never an outage of warm sweaters to be stolen and worn. You were currently wrapped in one of the boys’ hoodies - you think, Ashton’s?

“Ready to head out for lunch, sweets?” Speaking of the devil.

You looked towards the end of your aisle of seats to find Ashton Irwin, captain of the Timberwolves, duffel bag hanging over his left shoulder and hockey stick in hand, on the right. Gathering your stuff together and into your backpack, you met Ash at the end of the row. He set his stuff aside before you wrapped your arms around his neck, in greeting. You breathed in his fresh scent; him having just showered before meeting you. He returned your hug, squeezing gently while placing a quick peck to your temple.

Noticing that he was alone, you broke away, in confusion. “Where’s Cal?”

Ashton retrieved his things, making sure to also take your backpack, and you both made your way towards the exit.

“He’s already outside with Luke and Mike. I hope you don’t mind, they’re joining us at the diner.”

You voiced that you could never mind their company. Michael and Luke were as much a presence in your boyfriends’ lives as you were. Not to mention, you genuinely enjoyed their company being Michael’s official study buddy since you shared a number of classes together at your college. Ashton and Calum were accustomed to your all-nighters and coffee runs together. Luke, on the other hand, was your party friend; the two of you being the lightest of lightweights. To the embarrassment of their bud but amusement for you, your boyfriends could always find you in the middle of a dance floor; both moving completely off beat to whatever music was playing.

When you stepped foot outside, it was easy to spot Luke, Michael and Calum waiting on you, the latter’s black SUV parked at the curb. Your boyfriend’s back was facing towards you so you signaled, with a finger to your lips, to the other two boys. Unfortunately, unbeknownst to you, Calum was well-aware of your plan when he noticed a flicker of a grin appear on both of his best friends’ faces. There was only one person that they made that smile to.

Before you could wrap your arms around Calum, he turned around and made a grab for you. You shrieked in surprise, being the one held tightly around your waist and not the other way around.

“Nice try, sweetheart.”

You blew him a raspberry.

He laughed at that and he knelt his head down slightly, so he could nuzzle his nose against yours. Between your two boys, Calum usually wasn’t the one to show much PDA so he must have been really tired from the early morning skate. That was one of the only times he was most affectionate, when he was sleepy; the other being when he would feel extra soft in the bedroom, which wasn’t too often.

Ashton let out a hearty laugh, watching you two as he placed his gear and your stuff into the back of Calum’s vehicle. When you all had calmed down and you properly greeted Luke and Mike with hugs, you left for some well deserved lunch.

—

You had all just finished eating, deciding to hang out at the diner before heading to your respective apartments. Squished in one side of a booth, you sat between Ashton and Cal; Michael and Luke occupying the other side. Easy-going conversations were made between the five of you as you held onto one of Calum’s hands under the table. His other hand was used to prop his head atop of it. Ashton, all the while, kept a gentle grip of your thigh.

When the topic of tonight’s game came into light, an uneasy feeling came over you. The Hornets were the Timberwolves biggest rivals. It wasn’t the Hornets’ team, as a whole, that made you uneasy but one player in particular. The captain of the Hornets, Kyle Larson, always gave the boys a hard time. For whatever reason. It was at their last game and still in the pre-season that Larson almost hospitalized Luke after hitting him hard into the boards. Even though Luke was fine, in the end, Michael was still thrown out of that game for lunging at the Hornets’ captain and giving him a bloodied and broken nose. Larson was suspended for a number of games after the incident and this was the first time they’d come face to face since.

At your sudden silence, Calum gave your hand a squeeze; Ashton doing the same with your thigh. Almost simultaneously. They always seemed to know how you felt and what you were thinking. They hated that their issues on the ice would always come back to you and stress you out. When the three of you had decided to be together, you knew that this was all part of the package deal - the burden of carrying the weight of fights, frustrations and mistakes made while playing the sport they loved but also the joys and the passions from victories, championship titles and trophies.

The team was your family; you would do anything for them. If Calum and Ash could adore you any more than they did, for your love and worry over them and their team, they would.

—

It was now the evening. You stood in the tunnel, between the Timberwolves’ locker room and the entrance of the ice, with your two boyfriends. Ashton and Calum were already taller than you but in full hockey garb and an extra couple of inches on skates, they currently towered you.

This was your pregame ritual. The team being nice enough to leave the three of you alone for a moment together.

“I’m a couple rows above and behind the team’s bench. You won’t miss me,” you said looking up at them.

“We’ll always miss you when you’re not right next to us, sweets,” Ashton replied leaning down to steal a kiss from your lips.

“Real suave, Ash.” You giggled and treated your other boy with a kiss. Calum needed to lean down too.

Before any other words could be shared between you, the sound of someone making a gagging noise interrupted you. Both Ashton and Cal looked away from you and out towards the unwanted guest. Turning your head, you could already guess who it was, based on the frowns gracing your boyfriends’ faces.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Ashton glowered at none other than Kyle Larson, captain of the Hornets.

“Sorry, was I interrupting a moment?” A mock laugh escaping his lips.

With no change in the stone cold expression he was giving the other captain, Calum looked him dead in the eyes. “Nose looks good, Lars. Hope you tipped your surgeon well.”

Larson grimaced, scrunching said nose in habit. He had no real retort to that and so he made his way to the locker rooms meant for the visiting teams. Before disappearing from view, you heard his voice echo down the hall. “See you on the ice, boys.”

—

The Timberwolves were up one goal, in the second period. Currently the Hornets’ captain had possession of the puck. Larson kept eye contact with the Wolves’ top defenceman and alternate captain when he dumped the puck towards their net. He watched, a wicked grin on his face, as Calum’s line turned their backs on them to retrieve the puck. Everyone except Hood, himself.

They were at a stalemate on the ice.

With ten feet between them, Calum let out a breath through his nose, squaring up and taking off towards Larson. His adversary did the same, both set on a collision of catastrophic proportions.

At the moment of impact, Calum felt nothing. Not because the hit was so powerful that it knocked him out but because it never happened. Confusion settled in as Calum twisted his body on the ice, frantically looking for Larson. It seems that Larson had pivoted around him, at the very last second. Calum’s blood ran as cold as the ice he lived and breathed on, when his mind registered the brute’s true intentions.

The hit was never meant for him.

Helpless, he did the only thing that he could and cried out.

—

Your breath caught in your lungs, watching Calum and Larson charge at each other. Squeezing your eyes shut, you waited for the whistle to signal a stop in the play, but it never came. A feeling of dread settled in the pit of your stomach when you opened your eyes. You could imagine that you shared the same look on your face as your boyfriend - the one standing frozen on the ice and not the one unaware that the trajectory of Larson’s hit was actually intended for him. At that realization, you abruptly got out of your seat and did the only thing that you could and cried out too.

—

“ASHTON!”

The captain of the Timberwolves could have sworn that, in an arena full of people, you and Calum had cried out for him. Ashton was sure that he could distinguish your voices, anywhere. He was lucky enough to know both of your ins and outs - on the ice, off the ice and behind closed doors. He was confident that he could tell them apart, even in a sea of others. He would have realized, in that moment, he did just that.

If only pain hadn’t blossomed at the back of his body and his head.

If only he hadn’t blacked out.

Tagged: @irwinkitten @calpops @rosecoloredash @lilbabycalum @gorgeouslygrace @rainingcal @asht0n-irwin

#ro writes #5 seconds of summer #hockey!5sos #hockey!au #ashton irwin #calum hood #michael clifford #luke hemmings #poly hockey!cashton #poly cashton #5sos one shot #5sos imagine

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sirius · 5 years

Text

Young gods Part 6

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader, Sirius Black x Reader, Regulus Black x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of anxiety

Word Count: 7361

A/N: Annnd we’re back baby! It feels soooo good to be able to publish this chapter after so long! A lot of things are explained in this chapter so yeah. Also, I was trying to find the original video for the gif above but i couldn’t for the life of me find it anywhere on the web! I was so annoyed! anyway, sorry about the format but this gif suited the chapter. Btw this chapter is dedicated to everyone who was trying to guess who Kaitlyn’s crush is and the couple of people who nearly figured it out: I got u.

Chapter six: Fix You or Show Me the Way

***

Snow.

You can hear it crunch around you, numbing your fingers as they curl around it, deceptively soft but still digging under your fingernails and shooting shivers through your entire body. Darkness surrounds you, but you suppose that makes sense given your eyes are still closed. A sweet, florally fragrance blooms in the air, resilient despite the cold. Distantly, you can hear the telltale echo of voices murmuring rapidly, so close but so far away, muffled like your ears are plugged up with cotton balls.

Focusing hard, you recognise a familiar baritone, spoken by someone nearby.

“It’s good that you found her when you did,” he says, and even in the darkness you can hear the relief leaking through his words, like colour bleeding into a blank canvas, “Otherwise I fear the worse could have happened.”

Professor Dumbledore, you realise, somewhat dimly. There’s no mistaking that rich, low rumble of your infamous Headmaster.

There’s a short pause, a delayed response.

“Will she be alright?”

A second voice asks one that seems to poke through the muddy presence in your mind like you’ve noted every single detail of his voice before in a million different ways. His voice is like smoke rising off the water, like the consistent and deliberate thud, thud, thud of rain.

It’s Sirius. He’s here. Your fingers twitch, body relaxing into the bed of snow almost automatically. It feels nice to sink into the icy cushioning of the bed of snow, knowing Sirius is right beside you. To let your body relax under his watch, knowing the silent promise of protection that his presence seems to elicit.

You are tired, after all. Your body seems to ache like you’ve been pulled apart and stitched back together, and theres a prickling ache that shoots up the back of your spine, settling at the back of your head like a snake. But there’s something more to the pain, something that feels a lot like anguish, guilt, regret. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but it swells uncomfortably in your ribcage and presses up against your chest like an air bubble that’s close to bursting.

“Yes,” says Professor Dumbledore, “She’ll need time to recover, but she’ll be fine.”

Someone places a warm hand over your forehead, melting the flecks of snow that had settled there.

“She’s coming home with me,” says a woman’s voice, warm, calm and full of affection, “She’ll recover there for the rest of the holidays and then she can come back to school.”

She moves her hand from your forehead to your cheek, cupping it gently.

“As you wish, Thea,” Says Dumbledore, warmly, and a burst of excitement shoots through you.

“There’s something else,” Your sweet, strong and beautiful grandmother murmurs, “I must discuss something important with you, Albus. It’s about (Y/N)’s future.”

Time slips away again, like sand sliding down the narrow, slippery slope of an hourglass and your consciousness flickers, falters, fades, in and out of time like candlelight. You seem to float on the snow for hours, laying completely still, eyes not wanting to peel back just yet. The only thing anchoring you to time being the esoteric ache between your temples, throbbing painfully like someone had carved a six-inch valley down the middle of your skull. And, just when you think you may drown in all the shadows and pain, something - someone - breaks through the darkness like lightning arching across a starless, black sky.

“I came as fast as I could. Is she alright?”

The soft-spoken, masculine voice hits your consciousness suddenly, as though it had combed through thick branches to reach you.

“Yes, Remus,” says Professor Dumbledore, calmly, “She’s stable, still unconscious, but stable anyhow. It’s quite remarkable that she was able to endure the Cruciatus Curse for so long.”

There’s movement, and then a hand, large and warm, is melting the ice in the palm of your hand. It wraps around your smaller one like a blanket, warming you to your core. And, as much as you had liked the cold, the warmth of his hand is much more comforting in ways that you couldn’t possibly begin to describe.

“Well, she’s stronger than you think,” Remus murmurs. His voice warms you up like sunlight in your veins.

“She gets that from her father,” says your grandmother Thea, a small smile teasing her words.

Another beat of silence pulses between them.

“Oh - um - Mrs Ashton...I’m Remus Lupin. I’m a - ah - friend of your granddaughter’s...”

“Yes, my granddaughter has told me many things about you, Remus,” Thea says, fondly, “She’s quite fond of you, and I can see why. You’re a good friend to her...”

“I’m obviously not good enough,” Remus snarls, scathingly, “I-I won’t let him near her again.”

And then, the ice beneath you melts into cotton sheets and you recognise the subtle, honeyed sweetness in the air, realising that its not the forest's natural fragrance but the expensive perfume sitting on your dresser and it hits you like a bludger to the back of the head that you’re no longer lying in the snow but in your bedroom back at the Ashton manor. A part of you regrets coming to this revelation; it had been so peaceful in the snow, the cold almost like a comforting breath of fresh air filling your choking lungs. But then the hand around yours tightens, and a different kind of comfort fills you.

“I know we all have a lot of...strong feelings at the moment,” says Dumbledore, soothingly, “But that's nothing a nice, big mug of hot cocoa can’t fix. Besides, you should be resting, Remus. You are in frail condition yourself.”

“With all due respect, Professor, I’m not going anywhere,” Remus snips, determinedly, “I can't leave her again.“

“She’s at home now, darling,” says Thea’s calm, slightly accented voice, “She’s under my protection. No one would dare hurt her while I’m around.”

“I don’t mean to offend,” Remus begins, slowly, “And I’m absolutely sure that you’re more than capable but...still...I’d like to stay with her.”

“You might as well drop down on one knee and propose,” Sirius snickers, “Besides, Regulus isn’t going to come near her again. I made sure of that...”

Sirius’ words, spoken with a cold, venomous level of animosity you hadn’t heard before, triggers something deep inside of you and your eyes fly open. You lurch forward, gasping and spluttering, colour bursting in front of your eyes like a curtain being drawn quickly and deliberately.

Remus surges forward, cupping your cheek with one hand while the other squeezes your hand.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, softly, his eyes never leaving yours, “It’s alright. You’re safe, you’re okay.”

“Not sure if she really is ‘okay’,” drawls Sirius, “but whatever you say Moony.”

Remus ignores him.

“You’re back home in your bedroom,” he continues in a low, soft murmur.

Your heart thuds violently in your chest as your eyes dart around the room, taking in everything you can.

Dumbledore and Sirius sit at the end of your bed, the curtains drawn for privacy. Remus sits beside you in a chair to your right while your grandmother, Althea Ashton, sits in the chair to your left, as beautiful and as strong as ever. Morning sunlight streams into the room, bouncing off rows of glass bottles.

Remus' thumb drifts across the apple of your cheek, smoothing over your skin and drawing your eyes to meet his own. He looks concerned but calm, relief stirred into the deep blue depths of his eyes.

“R-Remus,” you stammer, weakly.

“I’m here,” he reassures and you lean into his touch.

“Grandmama,” you smile at Thea, who beams back.

“Just like your father,” she smiles, squeezing your hand.

“Miss (Y/N),” says Professor Dumbledore’s rich, smooth voice, “It’s such a delight to finally have you back with us after three very long days.”

You drag your eyes away from Remus, meeting Dumbledores benevolent blue ones, and the memory of your failure floods you, dampening the comfort that had once given you peace. Remus drops his hand from your cheek, taking all his warmth with him and you shudder violently like an exposed nerve. You feel exhausted under his twinkling gaze, ashamed and sad all at once.

You want to apologise to Dumbledore, to Grandmother Thea, to James, to Sirius, to Remus, to all the people who expected you to succeed. You want to apologise to Regulus for failing him. But all that comes out is a trembling whimper, soft and weak in volume and caught in the back of your throat.

“You don’t need to apologise,” Dumbledore says, as though he had reached into your mind and read your thoughts. He moves to your side, eyes shimmering, “In fact, if anyone should be apologising, it should be me. I underestimated the situation and I put you in danger. And for that, I am deeply sorry.”

You bite your lip, blinking back tears. One escapes anyway, sticking to your lashes before rolling down your cheeks, pooling on your lips like sea water.

“I failed him,” you rasp, thinking of Regulus’ wide, terrified eyes as they stared at you.

“No,” growls Sirius, folding his arms over his chest, “He failed you.”

You release a trembling sigh.

“Sirius is right,” Remus spits, acidly, “If Regulus truly was your friend, he’d have chosen you over the Dark Lord. He betrayed you.”

Tears stream down your cheeks and you wipe them away hastily. You take a deep breath in and exhale; your breath rattles on your lips.

“I’ll get the elves to make you something nice,” Thea smiles and gives you an encouraging wink before rising from her seat. Dumbledore tips an imaginary hat at her as she passes.

“So what happened after I...passed out?” You ask, not sure if you want to hear an answer.

“Sirius found you and attacked them,” Remus begins, “He promised to follow you while James and I were under the cloak. We got caught up in the crowd at The Three Broomsticks, you see. So by the time we got out, you were already at the Shrieking Shack.”

“How?” You ask, brows furrowed, “I mean, I didn’t see anyone in the forest? Usually, invisibility charms leave prints in the snow and usually, I can-I can sense when people are around me...”

Remus and Sirius exchange a look, edging around something they don’t want to discuss openly, or at least in front of Dumbledore. Sirius simply shrugs.

“He was in disguise,” Remus says, glancing at Dumbledore.

You frown a little harder. It still doesn’t explain why your sharp intuition hadn’t sensed anything. At the same time, you hadn’t realised you’d walked into a trap, either, so maybe your intuition was not as sharp as you originally thought.

“What about Regulus?” You ask, voice crumbling on your lips.

“What about him?” Sirius snips.

“Well, where is he?”

The three of them share a look.

“We don’t know,” Remus answers, earnestly, “He ran off after Sirius found you.”

“But he can’t escape punishment for long,” Sirius adds, bitterly, “Eventually, he and his gang will have to go back to School and face the consequences. And they’ll get one last look at Hogwarts before Dumbledore snaps their wands in half and I shove it up their stinking ars-”

“-Actually...” Dumbledore begins, slowly, “They won’t be getting expelled, Sirius.”

Sirius’ mouth drops open and Remus leaps from his seat.

“Wh-What do you mean?” Remus stammers, “Professor, they used an Unforgivable Curse on a fellow student. They nearly killed her!”

Dumbledore sighs, rubbing his forehead, “I’m quite aware of that, Remus, thank you. But if I expel them, we lose our intel on Voldemort.”

“Is intel really more important than a student’s life?” Sirius barks, “They can’t just get away with this!”

“Who said they were getting away with it?” Dumbledore says, calmly, “They will get detention and Slytherin will lose points, of course, but they can not leave this school. They leave and they come under Voldemort’s control and that will come at a price we simply cannot pay. Lives are at stake.”

“Including (Y/N)’s!” Remus snaps, incredulously.

“(Y/N) has her life,” Dumbledore continues, “I do not believe Regulus truly wanted her dead. But I cannot say the same for the innocent civilians - both muggles and wizards and witches alike - who will be in unspeakable danger if more of Voldemort’s Death Eaters are let loose into the world. If we can delay the future, we must.”

“But-”

“Professor Dumbledore is right,” you begin, cutting Remus off and taking his hand again, “If Professor Dumbledore expels them, they’ll go straight to Voldemort and Voldemort will win. They have to stay here.”

Dumbledore smiles softly at you, eyes glittering like pools of aqua crystal, “Once again, I admire your wisdom and bravery, Miss Ashton. But for now, you must rest,” Dumbledore turns to Remus and Sirius, speaking seriously, “Stay if you must, Remus, I’m sure Mrs Ashton won’t mind. I’ve heard from James and Lily and they’ll be coming to visit sometime tomorrow. As for you, Sirius, I will need your assistance. Follow me, please.”

With a final nod and a warm twitch of his lips, Dumbledore leaves your room with Sirius in tow. Remus drops into the seat beside you, still clutching your hand, just as your bedroom door swings open and a tall, familiar witch strides in.

“(Y/N),” Kaitlyn sighs, panting, “Thank fuck. You’re awake. I was so bloody worried about you.”

She races forward and drops to your side, pushing a ribbon of hair off your face.

“Um, Dumbledore said that (Y/N) needs rest so...”

Kaitlyn stares at Remus, “I’m her best friend and I’m staying.”

Remus opens his mouth to argue but thinks better of it. Instead, he sits back in his chair and pulls out a large thermos.

“I can’t believe him,” Kaitlyn snips darkly, “And I can't believe I...” she cuts herself off, biting her lip and adjusting her glasses, “...anyway, are you feeling a little better?”

You shake your head wearily, “I’m sore but I’m also just...exhausted.”

“Well, yeah,” Kaitlyn says, unsurprised, “You were under the Cruciatus Curse for almost ten minutes. Any longer and you...Just as well Sirius...”

Kaitlyn trails off into a knowing, heavy silence that seems to loom over the three of you hauntingly. Remus holds out a steaming mug of hot chocolate and you take it from him, wrapping your hands around the mug and feeling the warmth tickle and soothe your skin. Taking a small sip, you feel the tension in your body soften a little.

“It’s good to have you back,” Kaitlyn murmurs, ripping your hand away from the mug and gripping it tightly, “I was...we were all so worried. Even Sirius.”

“Sirius seems to have warmed up to you,” Remus mutters, staring into his mug of hot chocolate.

You turn to Remus, studying the way the light streams through the soft curls of his sandy brown hair. Smiling softly, you carefully place your mug of hot chocolate on the bedside table and take his hand in yours, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Who cares about Sirius?” You shrug, casually, and Remus looks up at you. He smiles, and it has such a profound effect on your body, like watching the sun sink beneath the horizon.

He’s so very beautiful...

Kaitlyn smacks her lips together and you reluctantly tear your eyes away from Remus. Kaitlyn raises a sharp brow at you. She looks as though she may laugh.

“Well, Remus,” Kaitlyn smirks, “I have two questions for you: One, does that hot chocolate have fire whiskey in it and, two, are you going to offer me some or what?”

***

A low whisper and a gentle brush of heat against your cheek wake you up in the middle of the night. You stare up at the delicate canopy draped over your bed and sigh in the darkness, wondering why your mind is playing games.

Remus is still sitting in the chair by your side, his head resting on your bed while he sleeps. You think about tangling your fingers in those soft, gentle curls but decide against it, not wanting to wake him up. He looks so peaceful when he sleeps like he’s resting on a bed of cloud.

Maybe he dreams of me, you think, hopefully, fingers twitching to touch him.

On the other side, Kaitlyn is curled up in your plush armchair, hugging her knees to her chest. She had managed to collect her thick, brown hair and throw it up in a tiny knot on top of her head to keep it from her face, but the bun is coming undone. She looks adorable, her glasses crooked on her face.

You release a soft sigh. With your two close friends on either side of you, the soft mattress beneath you feels even softer, like sinking into the soft clouds of a daydream. You smile to yourself, fingers reaching up to play with your necklace, eyes roaming across the room one last time before closing your eyes.

Your eyes slide shut.

Big inhale

Gentle exhale

Inhale

Exhale

Inhale

Exhal-

Wait

Your eyes fly open and you lunge forward, scrambling out of bed and rushing toward your dresser. Shockwaves of pain shoot through you but you push the throbbing ache to the back of your skull as you clutch the sides of your dresser, staring wide-eyed and in shock.

Next to your collection of delicate perfumes and your ornamental hairbrush is a book. And not just any book, it’s your beloved copy of ‘Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.’

The same book you lent Regulus.

“Regulus was here,” you whisper, eyes wide as you raise a trembling hand to your cheek, still warm from where Regulus must have trailed his touch across your cheek, “Regulus brought it back to me!”

Behind you, both Remus and Kaitlyn jolt awake.

“What happened?” Remus murmurs, groggily as Kaitlyn runs to your side, “Are you alright? Do you need me to get Thea?”

“Regulus was here, Remus,” you gasp, turning to face him with a wince, “I gave him my personal copy of Alice in Wonderland and he brought it back. He-he was here!”

“How did he know you were here?” Kaitlyn asks, frowning.

“They must have gone back to Hogwarts first,” Remus murmurs, “But they couldn’t find you so Regulus....got your address...”

“We used to write to each other over the summer holidays,” you explain, “So he must have apparated here.”

Remus’ eyes flit between your eyes and the book in your hands, guilt, shame and concern bleeding into his eyes. He pulls himself out of the chair and strides toward you, prying the book out of your grasp and blinking down at it.

“I promised that I’d never let him near you...” his grip on the book tightens, knuckles white with fury,

“Well that was a bit stupid of you, wasn’t it?” Kaitlyn snips and Remus’ eyes snap back up to you, “Of course he’s going to come near her! We go to the same bloody school!”

“Well obviously,” Remus snaps, agitated, “What I meant was that I never want him to hurt her ever again!”

“Well I don’t want that, either, but that doesn’t mean I go around making promises I can’t keep.”

“Stop it, both of you,” you snap, sternly, and they both fall quiet. You sigh composedly, “Neither of you can stop people from hurting me. Only I can do that.”

You take the book out of Remus’ vice-like grip and hug it, holding it close to your chest and thinking of your father, “Now I can't say that Regulus won’t try to physically hurt me again. But I can say that he won’t be able to break my heart ever again. I won’t give him an opportunity to do so.”

Remus nods in understanding, “I’ll be here to support you. Always.”

You turn to Remus, meeting his shimmering blue eyes. His eyes could contain the mysteries of the galaxy and no one would be able to read them, no one except you. And maybe that’s what this unspoken...thing is that lingers between the two of you, this silent understanding of how you both work and how the world you’ve both built up around you functions. And the connection is profoundly beautiful; an ethereal sort of energy that you feel deep inside of you, spluttering like a dying star being reborn again.

You look at Remus and you smile.

“Same.”

You jump. You had been so taken by Remus, you’d completely forgotten Kaitlyn was standing right next to you. You smile weakly at her and she takes your hand, giving it a little squeeze.

“Let’s get you back to bed,” she smiles.

As Kaitlyn begins to lead you back to bed, you glance out of your window, spotting a shadowy figure gazing up at your window from the ground.

“Regulus?” You whisper, recognising the familiar shape of his silhouette. He hesitates, and you frown at him.

Before you can tell Remus or Kaitlyn, Regulus is gone, swallowed up by the darkness, a ghost of the night.

***

Thankfully, you don’t see Regulus for the rest of the week. You’re not sure what you’d do if you did see him. In fact, you’re not even sure what Remus would do if he saw him.

Probably something bad. Or Illegal. Or both.

Still, you can’t help thinking that Regulus took a huge risk by returning an ordinary book. You had leafed through the pages, wondering if he had left some secret message behind in the book but there was nothing. It was in the exact same condition as it was when you gave it to him.

You sigh, running your hand over the cover as you stare out the window from your window seat.

“(Y/N),” says a warm voice from behind you. You turn, finding Grandmother Thea approaching you.

“Hello Grandmama,” you smile.

Thea takes a spot beside you on the window seat, taking a moment to gaze out the window where the house elves are hard at work in the gardens.

“I must say, I’ve missed having you here,” she admits, “This house is so large and it only has me and the house elves in it.”

You cover her hand with your own, giving it a gentle squeeze, “Have you heard from Aunt Lie?”

“No,” she sighs, “She’s yet to reply to my owl. You know what your Aunt is like; she’ll sleep when she’s dead, that one.”

You hum in agreement, your lips twitching into a small smile. Your Aunt Delilah’s work ethic and determination have propelled her to the top of the mountain, or in her case, the Head of the Magical Law Enforcement in MACUSA. She was even awarded ‘Witch of the Year’ for three consecutive years by and she’s always been a subject of admiration, especially for you.

“What about Uncle Logan?” you ask, and a pained expression crosses your grandmother’s face.

“Still in St Mungos,” She sighs, “He tried to break out the other day. They had to restrain him...”

As though dragging herself out of her thoughts, Thea sweeps her gaze from the manicured lawns bellow to your face and smiles gently at you, that same, loving curve of her lips that she passed down to her son - your father. But her eyes look worried, forlorn almost like she’s carrying a burden that’s too heavy for her. In the late afternoon sun, she looks older than her fifty-four years, the creases on her usually smooth cheeks looking deeper and more defined. It’s worrying; you’ve never thought that there was a burden heavy enough to worry the Great Althea Ashton.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, turning to face her completely.

Thea heaves a heavy sigh, “There’s something I need to discuss with you...something important.”

“What is it?”

Thea hesitates, biting her lower lip. After stringing her words together, she opens her mouth to speak but is cut off by a knock on the door.

“(Y/N)?” James’ voice sounds from the other side of the door.

“Come in.”

Your bedroom door swings open and James emerges from the other side, beaming as he approaches. When he spots Thea, James stops. He shoots a hand through his hair and bows his head, smiling.

“Mrs Ashton,” he greets, “You look as radiant as ever.”

“You flatter me,” she smirks, “Of course, a young man like yourself knows exactly what to say.”

“I’ve been told I’m quite the conversationalist,” James flashes a million dollar smile, “Among other things.”

Thea raises a sharp brow, “Oh I’m sure.”

What the-?

James grins devilishly, eyes glittering, “I would be happy to show you a thing or two, Mrs Ashton.”

You cringe, nearly choking on air as James winks at you. You really can’t believe this is happening right now Obviously, you knew James was quite the flirt, and your grandmother is quite beautiful. Thea laughs, rising from her seat and approaches James, stopping just beside him as her lips curve into a wicked grin.

“You wouldn’t be able to handle me.”

A single laugh of surprise escapes your lips at Thea's witty reply. You slap a hand over your mouth to contain the rest of your giggles. James flushes as Thea sidles past.

“That sounds like a challenge,” James calls out to her and you hear her laughter echo through the house.

James turns back to you, grinning from ear to ear and jabbing a thumb over his shoulder, “She’s amazing.”

Nervous energy flutters inside your stomach. You hate being left alone with boys, especially confident, handsome and intelligent boys like James. Unsure of what to say, you blurt the first thing that comes to mind, which is...

“Do you usually flirt with other people’s grandmothers?” You ask, grimacing.

James saunters toward you and sits in the seat Thea had previously been sitting in, “Only when they look like that. I wouldn’t even dare to flirt with Sirius’ grandmother, half the time, we’re not even sure what’s holding that woman together. Thea though...she’s a goddess. She’s young too, younger than my dad.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, “She was married by seventeen, pregnant with my dad at eighteen, raising three children by twenty-six and a grandmother by thirty-eight. She’s incredible.”

“Tell me about it,” James shakes his head, his hand taking through his thick hair, “Anyway, that’s not what I’m here for. I actually came to ask if you wanted to come out for a bit. We were thinking of taking you to a winter carnival we saw in muggle London...”

“We?” You ask, thinking of the crowds with a twinge of anxiety, “Who’s we?”

James shrugs, “Me, Peter, Sirius, Kaitlyn...Remus...” James gives you a knowing grin and a wink. You bite your lip, feeling a prickly heat swell in your cheeks.

“What about Lily?” you ask, recalling her visit the other day, “Is she coming? She’s a lot of fun...”

James looks away from you, his cheery demeanour suddenly fading.

“She’s not coming,” He murmurs, “Got her sisters engagement party or something.”

“That’s right,” you say in recollection, “Her sisters getting married, isn’t she?”

James scratches the back of his neck, “Yeah. Anyway, would you like to come with us? It’ll be fun...”

You stare at James, deliberating silently. Leaving the comfort of your bedroom seems scary when you think about it. Despite having recovered physically, you hadn’t really left your bedroom for long periods of time except for meals and bathroom visits. Since the attack, you hadn’t really had much mental energy to process anything, and staying in bed reading a good book sounded much more easier than having to venture into the cold, snowcapped world.

But this carnival sounds fun. And - if it turns out to just be noisy, crowded and cold - you’ll be able to return home and crawl back into bed. Your friends will understand.

“Okay,” you shrug, trying to appear nonchalant, “I’ll come.”

***

The winter carnival is bright and colourful against the shocking white of soft snow; a burst of light and colour splashed against a white canvas. It’s romantic and whimsical; the air smells of melted sugar and baked pastries and that crisp freshness that chills the wind in that delightful, wintery way. Kids are either screaming in delight, terror or dismay and parents are looking either exhausted, exasperated or both. Overall, the atmosphere is very warm, despite the December cold.

Rows and rows of stalls line the streets, with vendors offering exciting, winter-themed games and steaming mugs of hot chocolate. Of course, the hot chocolate paled in comparison to Remus’ but they filled the spot. Still, it was fun watching James and Sirius experience this side of the muggle world. Sirius even managed to win James a large, fluffy reindeer, which the Marauders found amusing for some unspoken reason, and Peter slipped into a cheese fondue tent, spilling melted cheese down his front. A quick, cleaning charm by Kaitlyn banished the cheese away but the memory remained, and the boys were laughing for the rest of the afternoon, much to Kaitlyn’s discomfort.

You’re very, very glad you came.

“Look at this place,” Kaitlyn nearly laughs, beaming, “The last time I went to a winter carnival, I was eight and I don’t remember it looking quite as magical as it does now.”

“Really?” Peter asks though he doesn’t seem to be listening to a word Kaitlyn is saying.

Beside her, Sirius takes a swig from his flask and pockets it in the inside pocket of his black aviator's jacket.

“Your sentimentality is nauseating,” Sirius grumbles, rolling his eyes. Kaitlyn glares at him through her glasses.

“Your entire existence is nauseating,” Kaitlyn snaps and Sirius barks a sardonic laugh.

“Real original, O’Hara. Did you figure that out all on your own?”

Kaitlyn opens her mouth to argue but Remus intervenes.

“Would you two shut it?” He snaps, irritated, “This isn’t about your little pissing contest, it’s about helping out a friend in need.”

Kaitlyn closes her mouth begrudgingly, shooting Sirius a nasty look. Sirius gives a sarcastic eye roll, sliding his hands into his pockets.

“Ever the diplomat,” Sirius teases, shaking his head.

“Well someone’s got to be,” Remus snips, “With you and Kaitlyn always at each other’s throats...”

“Looks like a lot of unresolved sexual tension to me,” James murmurs into your ear, and you swallow a fit of giggles. Peter frowns, flushing furiously.

“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you Prongs?” Sirius sniggers, having overhead his best friend, and James punches his shoulder, hard.

“He’s always punching me,” Sirius whines, “You see the way he treats me, (Y/N). He’s cruel.”

“You deserve better,” you joke, grinning teasingly. Sirius rubs his arm, pouting exaggeratedly.

“I do, don’t I?”

Beside you, Peter mumbles something that sounds a lot like “He deserved that.” You and Sirius glance at each other, and Sirius shoots him a side long glance but doesn’t comment.

“What in Merlin’s arse hair is that?” James gasps, gaping up at something just ahead of you.

Both you and Sirius turn, facing a large Ferris wheel, decorated in muggle fairy lights. From where you’re standing on the floor, you can spot couples cuddled up close together, kissing and laughing together.

You glance at Remus, only to find him already gazing at you and the two of you turn away, cheeks burning against the cold.

“It’s a Ferris Wheel,” Kaitlyn explains, tucking her hair behind her ear and flushing as James stares at her, “It works by combing gravity and centripetal acceleration, caused by rotation and angular velocity-”

“-Yeah, yeah some boring muggle science shit, let's try it out,” Sirius says, cutting Kaitlyn off, “Come on Wormy.”

Peter glances sheepishly back at Kaitlyn, opening his mouth as if to say something but the words get lost on his tongue as Sirius drags him toward the Ferris Wheel. James gives Kaitlyn a lopsided grin.

“Ignore him,” James says, flapping a dismissive hand at Sirius, “Let's give it a go while you tell me more about the - ah - ‘boring, muggle science shit’.”

Kaitlyn beams, cheeks rosy from more than just the cold. James listens, intrigued, as he pays for their ride and they climb into a gondola.

“So...” Remus begins, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, “Did you want to...”

He nods at the Ferris Wheel. You smile at him and nod, biting your bottom lip as Remus’ face lights up. You follow Remus toward the technician, who plasters a forced smile on his face.

After paying for your ticket, you and Remus settle into one of the gondolas. In the gondola in front of you, Sirius turns around to grin teasingly at you. Remus ignites him.

“So, how are you feeling?” Remus asks, casually draping an arm across the back of the seat.

You shrug, “Better. I feel a lot better, actually, but...”

“...You’re hurting,” Remus finishes and you sigh, rubbing the moon crescent on your necklace.

Remus leans forward and takes your hand in his, warmth suddenly flooding you. He smiles as he gazes into your eyes, and he doesn’t look away, not even when the Ferris Wheel awakens and slowly begins to rotate.

“Let me fix you, (Y/N),” he whispers, hand trailing up your arm and cupping your cheek affectionately. His thumb flicks over the smooth skin and you close your eyes, relaxing into his touch.

It kind of hits you; how natural it feels to be sitting here with Remus, his touch warming your entire body. Every doubt and every fear seems to slip through the cracks and out of sight, washed away by the certainty swelling in your heart.

All of it becomes a little more clearer now. Whenever you were upset or distressed, Remus was there, like he had listened to a call for help you don’t even realise you made. He’s always been there to pick up the shattered pieces of your heart, piece them together like a puzzle only he knows how to solve.

When he looks at you, he sees you. He sees every detail as though your were painted in screaming colours, vibrant and radiant and beautiful to his eyes. Never transparent. Never invisible. But real, very real. When he touches, he feels.

It’s no longer a choice between two, but a choice between confession or silence.

And if the past few weeks have taught you anything, it’s that there’s nothing wrong with taking a leap of faith.

Your lashes flutter as you open your eyes, the world coming back to you in dazzling colour. Remus seems closer now than he was before, his arm now wrapped around your shoulders. His eyes drink you in, keeping you bottled up somewhere inside his chest. The thought makes you smile.

“(Y/N)...” he begins in a whisper, “I-I really like you. I always have, since the day we met, I’ve liked you.”

Your smile broadens, a little laugh slipping from your lips as your gondola reaches its peak.

“I like you too,” you breathe, “I know it’s taken me a while to realise it but...I know. I like you too.”

Remus beams like he’s swallowed a star, the worry and fatigue washed away by the joy that lights up his eyes. Slowly, he leans in, and you realise what he’s doing, what he wants. Your heart hums like a hummingbird gone haywire, fluttering inside your chest, ready to take flight on imaginary wings as Remus closes the distance between the two of you, tentative lips meeting yours for a gentle kiss.

Soft. Warm. Unassuming. These are just a few words to describe what it is like sharing your first kiss with Remus Lupin. He smells of cinnamon and tastes like chocolate and moonlight and fresh, clean air and it’s magical, whimsical, romantic.

It feels like a black and white movie, where the music swells just as the lovers meet and they melt into each other in all the ways you had only dreamt of. Except now, it’s real, you’re really in Remus’ arms, tasting the slick sweetness of his lips and the hot desire that wells beneath them.

It makes you whimper when he breaks away hesitantly, shades of soft pink blossoming on his cheeks, that surreal, poetic dream fading away as you return to reality. He licks his lips as though he wants to memorise the taste of you, his eyes glued to the smile slowly crawling across your lips.

“Wow,” you whisper, suddenly giddy.

“Wow,” Remus repeats in a low murmur, “I’m still waiting for the part where Sirius shakes me awake.”You giggle as Remus presses his forehead to yours and sighs against your lips, “Please tell me this isn’t a dream.”

(He's tired of dreaming and fantasising and cold showers)

“It’s definitely not a dream,” you smile, a part of you shocked at how liquid you suddenly feel in his arms.

Grinning, he leans in to kiss you.

You let him.

(Right now, you’d let Remus do just about anything)

***

Remus has his arms draped around your shoulders for the rest of the evening.

Everyone knows but no one bothers to comment on this very new chapter in your life. Kaitlyn looks estatic, she keeps glancing back at you and Remus and grinning goofily as you stroll down the city’s streets, soaking each other up. James flashes a knowing smirk, winking at Remus as though he’s proud of him. Peter watches the two of you almost enviously, though he appears more happy than jealous for Remus. Sirius, on the other hand...

Well. Sirius is a little harder to read.

You catch him grinning at the two of you as you turn a corner, walking back to the dark alley you apparated to from your home. But when you all stop off at a muggle liquor store,

Sirius pulls you aside, his expression is sterner and - well - serious.

“Listen, (Y/N),” Sirius says in a low murmur, “I’m going to make this quick. Remus has never really had a girlfriend and he-he really cares about you. I know, you’ve been through some shit recently but Remus needs someone who he can trust. There’s more to him than what you know.”

“Of course he can trust me,” you snip, frowning at Sirius, “We’ve been friends for years, Sirius.”

“Yes but...look. Just-just be careful with his heart, okay? He’s never given it to anyone before, and he doesn’t deserve to have it broken.”

“I have no intention of breaking his heart,” you mutter, glancing as a drunk muggle staggers past.

“That’s what they all say,” Sirius whispers, and for a moment, you see a flicker of regret in his eyes.

Before he can say any more, the door to the liquor door swings open. James, Kaitlyn and Remus step through, carting two bags of alcohol each.

“Fake ID worked like a charm,” James grins, winking at you.

“That’s because it is a charm,” Remus chortles, walking up to you and pecking you on the cheek.

“What did you get?” You ask him, peeking into the bag.

“Just some vodka and gin,” Remus smiles, “Once we get you back home, we were going to mix some drinks and take them...somewhere. Do you have any cool hiding places in that impossibly huge mansion of yours?”

You rest your head on his shoulder as you begin to follow the others, “There’s a treehouse that my grandmother doesn’t know about. It was my fathers. He used to say that he would bring all his ‘girlfriends’ up there but that was just him pretending to be cool.”

Remus laughs, “Secret, make-out treehouse, huh? Might come in handy later on...”

Your lips crack into a smile as Remus leans in to kiss you, his arm wrapping around your waist and holding you close. You break away grinning, certain that you could do this for all eternity and never tire of it.

Remus tugs you close to him as you round the corner, entering the dark alleyway. You follow your friends into the empty alley, passing garbage bins and feral cats, until you reach the end, where you take Remus’ hand into yours.

“Is everyone ready?” James asks, glancing at you and Remus.

“Yeah,” you and Remus both answer in unison. Remus squeezes your hand.

“On three,” James says, and you close your eyes.

“One...”

You think of the large, iron gates outside the mansion.

“Two...”

You think of the perfectly manicured lawns and beautiful, flourishing gardens.

“Three...”

You think of your grandmother and her face as she welcomes you home with open arms.

With a crack, you disappear from the alley and land just outside the manors doors with a pop.

You open your eyes.

Your hand is still in Remus, sitting snuggly inside his warm, welcoming palms. James and Kaitlyn are laughing and Peter and Sirius are having a whispered conversation, glancing furtively at James.

“You guys wait out here,” you say, grabbing everyone’s attention, “I’ll just tell my Grandmother that we’re home.”

“Can you give her a kiss for me?” James asks, grinning, “Actually...you’d better not do that...”

“I’ll come with you,” Remus insists, handing his bag to Kaitlyn.

“I think you just found yourself a new shadow,” Sirius teases, winking at you. Remus rolls his eyes, taking your hand as you push open the large, decorated doors and enter the foyer of your home.

Your footsteps echo on marble and gold, singing a familiar tune that you’ve heard since you were twelve-years-old. Remus follows beside you, your fingers laced together.

“Grandmama?” You call out, your voice bouncing off the walls. Unfamiliar voices echo back from the living room.

“You have guests?” Remus asks in mingled surprise and curiosity.

“I think we do...” you mutter, frowning, “Grandmama?”

“In here, darling,” Thea’s gentle, serene voice says, guiding you toward the living room.

You and Remus follow her voice until you enter the living room, excitement bubbling up inside of you as you prepare to tell your grandmother all about you and Remus.

“Grandmama, I-”

You stop, voice dying on the tip of your tongue, eyes widening in shock.

Two strangers are sitting in your living room, cast in vibrant shades of orange from the flickering fire. The first is a very tall man, strong and unyielding with all kinds of razor sharp edges. Raven haired and eyed, he looks strikingly handsome, his features familiar in a daunting way. You could slice your finger across his firm jawline or get sucked into the depths of his dark, glinting eyes. He holds himself with aristocratic dignity, spine steeled and demeanour cold and unforgiving.

The second stranger is a woman, young and very beautiful but cold to the touch. Her long, black hair is pulled into an elegant, French bun and her eyes are a violent shade of grey. Her painted, red lips flicker into a smile that holds no warmth, lighting eyes that have never known true love.

“Sweetheart,” Your grandmother begins, softly, “This is Orion and Walburga Black. They’re here to talk about your future.”

“What do you mean?” You murmur, frowning at Orion and Walburga. Walburga’s smile curls.

“You don’t know, do you?” Walburgas voice is like a breath of cold air, icier than any winter you’ve ever known. Behind Walburga, a shadow ripples, peeling back to reveal a third figure, though he’s no stranger.

Regulus steps forward into the amber light of the fire, and you feel Remus’ hold on your hand tighten. Bile turns in your stomach, threatening to surge up the length of your throat. Regulus doesn’t quite meet your eyes, instead, he chooses to stare at your necklace.

“What’s going on?” You whisper, turning to your grandmother.

Your grandmother sighs, and for the first time since you’ve known her, she looks as though she may cry, “Regulus is your...your...”

Regulus steels, squaring his shoulders and raising his chin, fixing himself to stare into your eyes. Without even a hint of hesitation, Regulus speaks firmly, a coldness to his voice that you’ve never heard before.

“I’m your betrothed,” Regulus states, apathetically, “This time next year, we are to be married.”

@whysoseriouspadfoot @ashkuuuu @sly-vixen-up2nogood @hervench @rageofcaliban @amelya5567 @hylianhighlander @lousimusician @littlewriter55 @jackie-houston @sirius-lysad @marauderskeeper @royalmaknae @yllwtaxi @trumpettay @lilaccoveredteapot @evyiione @swim-deep-or-die @pugsandcuddles @tamosbien @xrosegoldwolfx @clockworkherondale @dude-whatawave @avipshamitra @saturnaah @reimiwritrs @tchalland @mckjnnon @lucifersnipnips @reducto-bitch @bluskai @socialheartbreak @heliopvth @who-said @mhftrs @bwayorbust @whimsicalangels1234 @eleatheirin @bernadineisreborn @madeofstarsdust @siriuswitches @qrangr @mixedupsammy @gryffinclxw @steph-fowlie @funkycoldlatina @acciorinn @fallern618 @writingcroissant @cinnamonbees

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inthesummerswelter · 5 years

Text

recipe for disaster: chapter eighteen

There are days when he wants to hold the world’s hand and there are days when he wants to pat it on the shoulder and tell it that everything will be alright and there are days when he wants to tell it to buck up and keep a stiff upper lip.

This is one of those days when he wants to tell a collective fuck you to the world and not care about anything.

Because he’s just failed one of his final term papers.

(His professor is a heartless dick who wants to watch the world burn, he just knows it.)

And he’s just waltzed straight into a puddle that’s the size of Loch Ness, and his shoes are drenched.

(They’re the nice suede brogues that he’s saved up ages for because he wanted to look a bit more mature than Vans and a vest top all the time, and now they’re fucking ruined.)

And Penn won’t fucking talk to him anymore.

(It’s not really that she won’t talk. It’s more like she won’t even look at him. She got that funny look on her face, all crumpled and scrunched up, and then didn't even try to make up some excuse about how she had to go out to the grocer or to walk the dogs or some bullshit like that. She’s obviously avoiding him.)

He scuffs the bottom of his shoe along the grit collecting on the edge of the pavement, scrubbing it around a bit, hands in his pockets and his hood pulled up.

It’s not even raining. A gloomy sort of weather hangs above him now, and Ashton’s just sick and tired of things not going his way.

He rounds the corner to where their building is – it’s a bit of a cheery sight, he supposes, because he knows that there’s a warm blanket and a good cup of tea waiting for him back at his flat – and sees Penn there. Just sitting out there on the steps, as easy as you please.

Except it’s not. Easy that is.

To breathe.

Penn’s wearing a dress.

It’s a simple one, as far as Ashton can tell, and it suits her splendidly, the way the little navy floral pattern loops around her curves and gathers under her chest.

It’s also way too indecently short, he thinks a second later, quickly scanning the street around him to see if there’s anybody else about that he should need to offer her his jacket to hide her from.

Ashton chooses to ignore that fact that Penn’s been cooking him breakfast in just her bra top and his boxer shorts for an excessively long time now and instead concentrates on how obscenely long her legs look to be.

And then his heart drops.

She’s dressed up, dolled up, with that stuff around her eyes that makes them pop unnaturally – he doesn’t like it, never has – and lipstick even.

That’s date attire. Even he knows that.

Penn’s dressed up to go out on a date.

Soon, his feet are taking him faster and faster towards her, the kilometres of cement becoming millimetres, and suddenly he’s there, right in front of her.

She looks up, blinking, and his world slows down to half-time.

“H-hello.”

“You, um. You look…nice.”

Frowning a bit, she plucks at the edge of her skirt. “Thanks.”

There's a long pause where he tries to collect his thoughts and bring them away from how strikingly beautiful she looks.

He can do this. He can be smooth and eloquent.

“Ah, um.” Nope, no he can't.

He retracts the hand that somehow had made its way halfway to tucking an errant piece of hair back behind her ear and tries to turn it into a casual pass through his mussed hair instead. He knows it doesn’t come even as close to smooth as he intended.

But it’s like she hadn’t even noticed, the way her eyes flit around, as if they’re looking for somebody else.

Somebody who’s not him.

If his heart dropped before, it plummets now into the roiling pit of spite and jealousy eating a hole through his gut.

"Looking for Louis?" he asks, practically spitting out the words. It's like he hears his voice coming back at him through a bad connection, all tinny and twisted and warped in hate. "Hot date? Taking the next step in your relationship together, yeah?"

Now he's gotten her attention. Penn looks at him, brow knitting up in a frown.

"Ash," she says in a soft voice that nearly breaks through his thundercloud. "Ash, it's not him. It's somebody else."

He can't take it, his head spinning with all the vicious possibilities. Niall, then, the scrawny little Irish bloke.

"Well, have a fucking fantastic time, then, with whoever you wanna fuck."

Ashton can't take this anymore, can't watch her do this.

Brushing past her, he takes the steps up to their floor two at a time, slamming himself and his pain inside the walls of his flat.

(In his haste, he doesn't hear her gasp, doesn't see the hurt flare up in her eyes or how she gathers herself and the bouquet up and picks her way down the street, away from their building.)

His eyes are stuck on one line. He's read it a thousand times with no success.

Just when he thinks he's cracked the code - obviously the daft loon's been prattling on about corrupt systems through the ridiculous shoe factory analogy - and is about to make a note in the margins, the doorbell rings.

Tempted to ignore it, he goes back to his readings, making it three words before it rings again, more insistently.

And then, a third, fourth, and fifth time in rapid succession.

Grumbling, he lifts the book off his chest and moves to get the door.

Opening it, Ashton’s shocked.

It’s Louis, standing there before him, a genial smile on his face and hands shoved into the pockets of a coat already dripping rainwater onto the floor.

“Hello!” he says cheerily, poking his head underneath Ashton’s arm to peer around the room. "Is Penn here, then? I tried her door and nobody answered, so I figured you two would be here then."

He glances at his watch. "I did give you lot enough time, now, didn't I? It was hard to judge, but I figured a few hours would be sufficient."

Ashton clears his throat. "Penn's not here."

"Oh! Well, where is she? Is she out at the shops, then, or something?"

This isn't making any sense.

"She was sitting on the steps at the front of the building," Ashton says slowly, enunciating just in case this Louis bloke is a bit thick after all. "You know, waiting for her date. I figured it was you or that little blonde fellow."

Louis' expression makes the rapid right turn from sunny bemusement to horrified realization.

"Jesus Christ. Oh my God. Holy shit."

Ashton doesn't know how many more deities Louis is going to invoke, but he'd rather he be done sooner rather than later, so he interrupts him, stating bitterly, "Look, mate, she's with your friend, right? It'll be just fucking fine. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got some revising to finish."

Hands wrapped firmly around the handle, he goes to swing the door shut and almost accomplishes the task, but for a Herculean effort from the boy in the hallway.

"You don't understand!" Louis shouts with his foot jammed securely between the frame and the door, effectively blocking it open. "She was meant to be with you! That was the fucking plan! All that, on the stairs, was for you, you bleeding idiot!"

It's a very big voice coming out of a very small body - well, at least a shorter body than his own - and the sudden shock causes him to release his grip on the door. Accordingly, it slams inward against the wall, a very nonplussed Louis attached.

His expression leaves showy anger behind, this time, and leans towards colder fury.

"What did you say to her? If she's not in her flat, not with you, and not at any of the places Niall's been running his arse off to, then you must have fucked up royally. What the fuck did you say to her?"

Ashton throat tightens strangely. All that was for...him?

He's grinning now, and Louis looks ready to physically assault him.

"Christ, concentrate! This is all your fucking fault for fucking this up, so go and bring her back and fix everything, goddamnit!"

"Calm down, mate, I know where she is."

At the very least, he's got an intuitive inkling of where she might be. Someplace that she hasn't ever taken Niall or Louis before.

Taking his keys and a coat off the ring by the door, he brushes Louis back into the hallway. Ashton shuts and locks up his flat, telling the bloke behind him, "I'm going to fix this, okay? I'm going to fix this."

He trots through the streets in worn boots and the mac over top his denim jacket and worn tee. There's no posturing here now, with her. No need for fancy get-ups.

This is it, this is his moment.

The gate creaks open easily, still open for visitors even in the last few hours of the early evening, and he keeps up a steady pace as he moves down the paved pathway.

She's there, in the cemetery, just like he knew she would be. Leaning on the tombstone, her fingers bracket the etched letters, curving pale parentheses around the dark of the stone.

The bouquet of lily-of-the-valley lays limp by where her heels dig into the soft sod, the tiny cream blooms still holding their perfect delicate bell shape.

As he approaches, he can see her quivering, the thin fabric of the dress plastered to her body, limbs a worryingly pale shade. Unconsciously, he slips off the mac he's wearing, bundles it up into one hand, and walks into the row.

"I didn't--," he begins, worrying the stitching at the edges of the coat in his hand. "I didn't know that, I mean, I thought that you and he were..."

There's no nice way to put it, so the words jam themselves back up into his throat and he wraps the mac around her shoulders.

A single lock of dark hair sticks itself to the plane of her cheekbone like an ugly scar. His fingers reach up and brush it away without a second thought.

She doesn't say anything, just lets her lips seal themselves together as she waits for him.

Ashton clears his throat. "What I said on the steps, I mean - I wasn't thinking straight, I was angry, really angry. And jealous as hell, thinking of you and...and someone who's not me."

Closing her eyes, Penn gives a half-hearted laugh.

"That's so fucking ironic. Do you remember the day I locked myself in the bathroom?"

He nods. He was going to tell her that day, until she told him to leave. And then life got in the way.

(He think maybe he'll tell her today instead.)

She continues, saying, "I was so, so upset that day, so frustrated. It was already a shit day. And then I saw you with that girl, through your window, and I couldn't see you any more without seeing her too."

Ashton can't believe it. "You saw me? And a girl? ...Oh my God. You saw me and Tal. That's Mikey's girlfriend, Penn. I was asking her for advice about things."

"Things?"

He's utterly embarrassed now.

"You."

"Oh." She scrubs at her face with the back of her hand, dragonfly eyes flitting around. "Oh."

"I'm so sorry, Penn. I never mean to hurt you."

The rain has slowed now, turning from a torrent to a drizzle now, and the mist rising up from the ground frosts Penn's eyelashes with a dusting of sparkling crystals.

He's thrown back to the first time they met in the rain, the way her hands splayed across his chest, and Ashton's chest tightens up.

"I think I'm in love with you. I hope you don't mind too much."

He doesn't realise that he's the one who spoke until her eyes flutter shut and her breath mists out in front of her.

And if he was having trouble breathing before, there's nothing in his lungs now as they constrict in his chest with anxiety as he waits for her to say anything, do anything.

Slowly, so slow he can't be sure she's actually moving, Penn picks herself up off where she's leaning on the headstone and pulls her hands out of the sleeves of the mac.

Her hands are bone-cold, but they warm quickly as she reaches forward to where his are dangling by his side. Lacing their fingers together in what feels like a promise, she tilts her head up towards his and whispers with a smile, "I don't mind at all."

Closing the scant distance between them, quivering with months of anticipation trapped under his skin, he catches her mouth with his own, molding their lips together with gentle, coaxing pressure.

Every part of him is brimming with electricity, humming down his veins until he is all caught up in her. They create a world there, the two of them, a sharing of breath, a melding of souls.

He never wants this moment to end.

It does, though, as all moments do, when Penn's hands return to their icy state, and he reluctantly releases her with a teasing nip at her lower lip.

Later, once they've made the long journey and returned to her flat, towelled themselves off, and curled up on her sofa under a pile of blankets in their skivvies, he kisses her again, just because he can.

And, afterwards, he tells her he's in love with her, just because he can.

With a grin, she tucks her head into his chest and tells him she's in love with him too.

Just because she can.

(They're so happy together.)

#fic: recipe for disaster #5sos fic #5sos fanfic #5sosff #updates #last chapter before the epilogue!

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jobrookekarev · 3 years

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Paper Rings

T.S. x Jolex Week 2021 hosted by @thejolexgroupchat

Chapter One of One

Words: 8169

Summary: Alex kisses her once because it’s been a long night and he’s finally home. Jo kisses him twice because it's going to be all right as they buy their house, and they kiss each other a third time because they’ve waited their whole life as they marry each other again with paper rings.

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy.

Relationship: Alex Karev/Jo Wilson.

Characters: Alex Karev, Jo Wilson, Luna Ashton-Wilson, Helena Karev, Meredith (Edith) Karev, and Reeses the Dog,

Rating: General Audiences.

Additional Tags: Fluff, Kids, Pregnancy, Kids, Weddings, Wedding Rings, Painting, Karev Family Chronicles.

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

AN: Of course one of them had to be set in the Karev Family Chronicles and I do not own any of Taylor Swift’s music or the lyrics to Paper Rings.

……………………………………………………………………

Jo was curled up in bed, her knees up propping up the medical journal she was reading as she flipped through it. It was late enough that the moonlight was streaming in through the skylights rather than the windows, but still, she stayed up. It was mostly because she had gotten lost in her reading, but also because Alex wasn't home yet. For some reason, tonight she didn't want to sleep without him. In his place was their puppy Reeses, fast asleep and curled up next to her. She knew she should put him in his crate for the night, but without Alex there the bed was too empty.

She looked over at the books on his nightstand and how she knew them all by heart. She remembered the day they met at the hospital how he turned to her with his smile and smooth words, but then treated her like the intern that she was and filled her day with scutt. He was the rude playboy of the hospital, and she was determined not to end up like her friends and sleep with him. Yet here she was sleeping in their bed waiting up for him because she had fallen in love with him and married him. Oh, how wrong young intern Jo was.

She took a sip of the wine in her glass. It was still cold in her hand and the condensation collected in little droplets of water that dripped from her fingers onto the bedding. It felt nice against her sore hands from a day full of surgery. She must have done a thousand stitches with delicate suturing and, of course, cutting. Yet, general surgery didn't seem as exciting as it did before, she wanted more, but she wasn’t quite sure what she wanted.

Finally, Jo heard the familiar click of the lock in the loft’s door before it slid open. Recess for all his worth didn’t even stir and kept sleeping next to her. She didn't look up and continued reading. She couldn't see him through the shelving anyway. She heard him groan as he set his stuff down and shuffled around, grumpy as ever.

She put down her wine glass, knowing Alex would make her spill it when he got into bed. He continued to grumble as he made his way around the loft. The bed dipped next to her, and Alex snuck his head in her lap, blocking her reading. As she let go of the journal, he smiled up at her. The grumpiness of the day melted away as he stared at her. He had that little crooked grin that she loved so much. She ran her fingers through the little tufts of brown hair around his ear, curling her finger around one of the longer strands.

“Hi,” Alex said, just staring up at her and smiling.

“Hello,” Jo said, she couldn't help us smile back because she loved this man, oh so very much.

He finally moved and crawled up her body and put one hand on either side of her waist before he leaned in to kiss her. It was a quick and soft kiss against her lips before he pulled back, only to lean and kiss her again and pull back and kiss her a third time.

Jo hummed against his lips as he lingered the last time. “Three kisses, must be a special night?”

“Well, once because it’s been a long night, twice because I want you to know that I love you, and three times because I've waited my whole life for you,” Alex said, smiling up at her with this look of complete love and adoration for her. Jo smiled and blushed because she was still a little overwhelmed by his love for her sometimes.

“Back to writing greeting cards again, is this one going to have a brown pony or a white one on it?” Jo teased him as Alex laughed, and she pulled him in to kiss him again, just because she could. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Alex said as he reached up to hold her face as he kissed her again. They couldn’t seem to stop kissing each other.

“How was your shift?” Jo asked in between kisses. “I haven’t seen you since lunch?”

Alex sighed as he buried his face in her chest, his favorite place to be. He pushed her tank top down to lay on her bare skin and mumbled something. Jo looked down at him and narrowed her eyes. Something was up, she was sure of it. She pushed on his shoulder, forcing him to sit back, and he plastered on a smile as he rubbed the back of his neck. Jo crossed her arms and glared at him. She waited for him to explain himself, but he didn’t.

“Spit it out, Alexander.”

His eyes went wide at the use of his full name, but he stopped avoiding her and held up his left hand. “I lost my ring.”

Her anger dropped as she reached out to hold his hand and stared at the tan line of the empty space on his hand. “Oh no, how did you lose it?”

“I took it off for surgery and put it on top of the scrub sink, but then the patient’s heart rate dropped, and I just rushed in and forgot it. Then when I went to get it after surgery, it wasn’t there. I looked everywhere in the scrub room, and I even got the others to help, but no luck. I asked the cleaning crew to keep an eye out for it, though.”

Alex's lips tugged down in a frown just for a moment before he tried to play it off, but she could tell that he was upset that he lost it.

“I’m sorry, Alex,” Jo said, reaching out to hold his face as he tilted his head into her hands. “I’ll keep an eye out for it too.”

Alex gave her a nod as he looked down at his empty ring finger. Jo knew how much the ring meant to him. As much as he loved saying that she was his wife, he loved wearing the ring that she had picked out for him. It was a symbol of their love and commitment to each other, and it was something for everyone to see that he was hers. Plus, it kept the ped’s moms from hitting on him.

Jo reached over to her nightstand, picked up a post-it note, and folded it into a thin line. She then wrapped it around her thumb in a circle before twisting it into a sturdy ring. Alex looked confused at first but quickly caught on to what she was doing and held out his hand for her.

“Well, lucky for you, I'd marry you with paper rings,” Jo said as she finished, she slipped the paper ring onto his finger.

A smile spread across his face as he looked down at the paper ring. He smiled so wide and let out a little chuckle. His eyes sparkled as she could tell how happy he was. She loved his happy smile and not the one he just put on to be pleasant. This was his genuine smile and she smiled too because she loved it.

Alex leaned in to kiss her again, and it was slow and lazy as he lingered on her lips before he slowly melted down to bury his head in her chest again. She gave a light chuckle as she ran her fingers through his hair and massaged his scalp. He settled on her chest, turning his head so he could actually breathe and not get smothered as he laid his head on her heart. She felt the weight of him settle on her as he fell asleep, completely content on top of her.

Jo just smiled as she continued to run her fingers through his hair. Now that Alex was home, she decided to finally go to bed as well and put the journal on her nightstand. She should put Reeses to bed or at least get him off the bed, so he didn’t wake them up in the middle of the night. However, with Alex's weight on her, she knew she couldn’t move, not that she minded. His weight was like a warm weighted blanket on top of her and his lips against her skin were soft and full of love.

She looked over at the photo of them on her nightstand. It was them in the NICU together when they were just friends. The picture frame glittered in the lamplight as she reached to turn off the light. She loved how they started out as friends before they fell in love. She felt like she got to know him without the pressure of a relationship. She loved joking with him and drinking with him. They still did that even now.

“I love you so much, Alex. You’re the only man I ever want,” Jo whispered as she settled in and ran her fingers through his hair as she closed her eyes.

Kiss me once 'cause you know I had a long night (Oh) Kiss me twice 'cause it's gonna be alright (Uh) Three times 'cause I waited my whole life, I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings Uh-huh, that's right Darling, you're the one I want, and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this, Uh huh, that's right Darling, you're the one I want.

……………………………………………………………………

“How did we get roped into this,” Jo asked as she sat up on the plastic covered bed and poked the paint pan with her shoe.

“We didn't get roped into anything,” Alex said as he put the roller back in the pan, picking up the paint before rolling the excess off and applying the Captain America blue color to the wall. “I told Meredith I would help her and you insisted on tagging along.”

“Well, what else am I supposed to do on our only day off for the next week? I thought I would be spending it in bed with my husband and not on a child's bed,” Jo said as she sat back on the plastic covered bed, holding herself up with one arm.

Alex chuckled as he continued to paint the wall. They had done three out of the four walls of Bailey's bedroom while the rest of the furniture was either temporarily stored in the hall or covered with plastic in the middle of the room. Maggie and Winston had taken the kids out, and Amelia, Link, Meredith, Jo, and Alex were all supposed to be redoing Bailey's room with a Captain America theme for his birthday tomorrow. However, Amelia and Link were running late from picking up the new furniture and decor, and Meredith had gotten called into surgery. That left Jo and Alex to finish painting the room.

“Why don't you go lay down in Meredith's room?” Alex said, pausing again to refill the paint roller and glancing over at her.

“No, I'm not tired,” Jo said despite how she covered her mouth as she yawned.

“Oh really, because for the past week, you've been taking a nap around lunchtime,” Alex said as he rolled the paint roller up and down the wall and Jo got lost watching the smooth movement.

“I'm a surgeon, I’m working long hours, and my schedule has been off,” Jo said as she yawned again. She tried to keep her eyes open, but she laid back on the bed and curled up.

“Maybe we should go outside and hop in the fountain downtown. That’ll wake you up,” Alex said with a smirk as he turned back to glance at her again as he referenced the one time they had jumped into the fountain at the hospital.

“That was a one-time thing. I'm not a polar bear,” Jo said as she rolled her eyes at him and sat up, determined to stay awake.

It was midwinter and they were both exhausted from a 24-hour overtime shift and they had to be back at work in an hour. They decided to take a plunge in the cold water fountain to wake themselves up. It worked, although the warm shower they shared afterward was what Jo remembered most fondly.

She leaned back again as Alex went back to painting the wall and they both sat in familiar silence. The only sound was the paint sloshing in the pan and the sound of the roller up and down the wall. She thought about the day that they had painted the Loft. It was just one wall and the bathroom, but it was nice to paint a home that was theirs. They had never painted Meredith's house when they lived there, but putting the color on the walls of the Loft was a permanent symbol of their residency, and it made the Loft a home. However, they were outgrowing their Loft, and they needed a bigger place to live if they wanted to adopt Luna.

She thought about the house that they had put an offer on. They both agreed that they needed a proper house with walls and a backyard. They had fallen in love with this particular bungalow style house with a tire swing in the backyard, a large window in the kitchen, and a fireplace in the living room. Alex said they could hang stockings for Santa and make Christmas special for their kids, but she also thought about the small bedroom right next to the master bedroom. They had thought the one across the hall could be for Luna, but the smaller room was warm and intimate and the perfect size.

“I like the blue for Luna’s room, but we should paint the baby's nursery something more gender-neutral. I like your mom's idea of using purple or green or even a light yellow. If we did a light green and then make a tree bookshelf or something and make it into a jungle theme.”

Alex put the roller back into the paint pan and looked over at her. He had that big happy smile that he always got and they talked about having a baby. “I'd like that a lot, but we have to actually buy the house first and the kitchen…”

“The kitchen is fine, Alex,” Jo said with a sigh, it was the argument they had been having all week. “All we have to do is paint the cabinets and put in new appliances. It's not like we can't keep the refrigerator from The Loft. The repairman said he could fix it.”

“I know, I just want it to be perfect, you know. When I bought Meredith’s place I just, I thought it would be my family home. The place where I would meet my wife, and I did,” Alex said, taking a second to look back at her as they exchanged a smile. “And you would move in and we would have kids together in that house. Then Meredith asked for her house back, and I figured I had to because it was her home first, and I didn't mind it.”

Alex put down the paint roller and looked around the room. Jo understood because she too once imagined making this house their family home. It was their first home together, the place she went to feel safe with him, and where they started their relationship. It would always be the place where they could go and be with family, but it was Meredith's home, not theirs. The Loft was their home, but as their family got bigger, they needed a larger and more permanent space.

“And I love the Loft. Moving there was the right step for us. When you offered to move into the Loft, I thought it would be a great place for us for a couple of years. You know, just the two of us in our own little newlywed home. I figured we'd stay for a couple of years and then get a family home, and now we're trying to adopt Luna and have more kids. I just, I don't want to have to move again or have to move them. I was moved around my entire childhood and I don't want that for our kids. I want that house to be perfect. They’re gonna learn to walk in that house, they're going to have breakfast and get ready for school in the kitchen, and they're going to grow up in those bedrooms, and do their homework at the dining room table. I want to make sure that they're able to do that before we move in.”

Alex looked back at her and Jo nodded because she did know. She moved around so much during her younger years. Seattle was the first city she had ever stayed in for more than a few years. She wanted a home where their kids could grow up and never have to worry about moving or where they would go next. Of course, she wanted the house to be perfect too, but more importantly, she wanted to be settled in the house.

“I know that too. That's why I want to move into the house sooner rather than later. I know it's not perfect, but it's perfect for us, and we could renovate it and make it into something great like we did with the Loft. It can be our family home. Our kids could grow up swinging on the tire swing in the backyard. The bedroom across the hall could be Luna’s room and we could put the nursery next to the master bedroom. I know we’re approved to have Luna at the Loft, but I don’t want to have to move with her and a newborn. It's going to take at least a month to close on the house and get all the reservations done, and I want to have this done soon because we only have eight and a half months before the baby comes. That doesn’t leave us much time to work on the nursery, but maybe we could get it done on time if our friends helped out. Meredith is gonna owe us for this, so I'm sure she could help us with the nursery?”

“Don't worry about it. We have plenty of time to make it our dream house and build a nursery,” Alex said with a chuckle as he picked up the roller and started to paint the wall again.

“Alex, weren’t you listening to me? I said we only had eight and a half months before the baby comes,” Jo said with a smirk as she watched him freeze.

The paint dripped from the paint roller onto the plastic tarp and his converse. Alex just stood there, facing the wall. Jo stifled a laugh as he turned around, swinging the roller as paint flew everywhere. Thankfully the tarp covered everything and he only managed to sprinkle paint on her shirt.

“Eight and a half months?” Alex asked, still staring at her like he didn't quite believe it.

“34 weeks technically, which would put me at 6 weeks along,” Jo said, putting a hand on her belly. She just smiled and bit her lip as she watched him.

She could see the way his mind slowly processed it. This was everything that he ever wanted and she was giving it to him. Watching him stare at her in shock was the most adorable and amazing thing. She was so excited to tell him. She imagined that he would be so excited that he would jump for joy and scream and shout until all of the neighbors knew. But this look of shock and amazement as he stared at her, that was pretty great too.

“You're pregnant?”

“Yes.”

“You have a baby in you?” Alex asked, sputtering his words as he put the paint roller down. “I put a baby in you?”

“Yes,” Jo said with a laugh. “I'm pretty sure that's how it works. Your little Karev baby is inside me right now, yours and mine, our baby. A little boy or girl. Although I feel like it’s a girl, I don't know why, but I keep dreaming of a little girl.”

“Oh no, it's definitely going to be a boy,” Alex said with a smirk as he finally seemed to snap out of it and made his way over to her and kneeled in front of her. “It’ll be the universe’s own personal revenge for my own youth.”

“I don't know, you turned into a pretty great guy, and I'd love it if our kid was exactly like you. I imagine a little baby with your crooked smile and your brown curls and your honey brown eyes that looked at me like I hold the universe in my hands,” Jo said with a sigh as Alex gave her that exact look.

“I hope they're as smart as you are. I hope that they have your strength and your perseverance. I hope they laugh like you do because I love the sound of your laughter,” Alex said as she laughed and he just smiled at her. “I hope that they’re exactly like you.”

Jo put her hands on either side of his face and pulled him into a kiss. She kissed him once because she was so excited to have a baby with him. Then she pulled back only to kiss him again because everything was going to be alright, and then she kissed him a third time because she had waited her whole life for someone to love her like Alex loved her.

“We're having a baby,” Alex smiled when she pulled back as he reached down to put a hand on her belly. It was a little strange at first, but it was comforting to have his hands on her.

“We are having a baby,” Jo said in excitement, she was so happy about this, and she couldn't wait to be a mom and to build a home with him.

“Oh my god, I've got to call the realtor. We have to get that house,” Alex said as he quickly scrambled to pull his phone out of his pocket and immediately called the realtor.

Jo watched as he panicked and told her that they really needed this house because they were having a baby, not even bothering to keep the pregnancy a secret. He went quiet as a realtor talked and Jo couldn't read the look on his face. Suddenly his face lit up and he smiled as he glanced over at her.

“We got the house,” Alex whispered to her.

“We got the house?” Jo asked just to be sure.

“Yeah, we got the house,” Alex said as he hung up the phone and wrapped his arms around her. “We got our dream house. The house that our kids are going to grow up in.”

“We have our home,” Jo said as she pulled him in and kissed him again.

In the winter, in the icy outdoor pool when you jumped in first, I went in too. I'm with you even if it makes me blue. Which takes me back to the color that we painted your brother's wall. So, kiss you once 'cause I know you had a long night. Kiss you twice 'cause it's gonna be alright. Three times 'cause you waited your whole life.

……………………………………………………………………

Alex hated Mondays. Especially Mondays on sunny summer days where he had to go to work instead of spending the day with his wife and their girls. He had been grumpy all day and even the kids at the hospital had complained. All of his cases have been tough and terrible and it felt like there was a rain cloud solely for him while the rest of Seattle was in the happy summer sun. However, the moment he walked through the door of their home and dropped his bags in the entryway, he heard the footsteps of his three little sunny girls as they raced over to greet him. With Reeses running behind them as the four of them all raced to see who would get to him first.

“Daddy!” Luna, Helena, and Edith shouted as they raced towards him, leaping off the step down into the entryway and throwing themselves into his arms.

No matter how bad his day was, Alex could never keep a smile off his face when his girls greeted him with such excitement the moment he walked through the door. He let himself hold them just for a second longer before he set them down and pulled back to smile at them. Of course, he couldn't forget how Reeses always faithfully greeted him at the door. The old dog waited patiently as he sat at his feet, his tail pounding the hardwood, as he waited for his turn. Alex reached down and pet his head, letting Reeses nose nuzzle his knee and get drool all over his pants.

“How are all my princesses today?” Alex asked turning back to his girls. “All dressed up, I see. Have we got something special going on tonight?”

The three girls were dressed in their white ballet costumes with fluffy white tutus complete with fake jewelry and matching flower wreaths crowns. They also wore those plastic little princess shoes that clopped around on the hardwood floor, yet somehow they still managed to run around in them all day.

“We're having a wedding,” Helena announced, the five-year-old was absolutely giddy as she wiggled from where she stood.

“We wanted to do it on the ferry boat, but Mommy said we couldn’t go on one, so we just decorated the living room instead,” Luna explained as the six-year-old pulled on Alex's hand and led him into the living room.

“It's a big wedding,” Edith said, they're three-year-old was equally as excited as they all giggled.

“Oh, a wedding, so who's getting married?” Alex asked as he walked down the hall into the open living room of their home. The girls had decorated it with lots of white lace and white sheets as well, with the contents of their dress-up box scattered across the living room.

“Mama,” Edith said as Alex set her down on the couch.

“You and Mommy, Daddy,” Helena said as she raced over to grab his blue wedding tie and give it to him as he smiled.

He pulled off his usual tie and replaced it with his wedding tie. He still liked wearing his suits around the hospital when he wasn’t in his scrubs. Although he usually changed the second he got home, as it would instantly get soiled from the mess of his three girls.

“Yeah, we're doing it in half an hour, Daddy,” Luna said as she picked up her clipboard, as she clearly had the whole thing planned out. “So be ready soon, please.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Alex said as he watched the girls go back to talking about how they were preparing the room for the wedding ceremony.

They suddenly realized that they needed flowers and raced out to the backyard to pick some of the daisies that were blooming along the side of the fence. They also picked some of the clovers and dandelions that were growing in the yard. As soon as they raced back in and started to put the daisies on Reeses’ head, Alex decided to go find his wife.

He found his lovely bride-to-be hiding out in the pantry facing away from him as she leaned forward to rifle through the shelves. Alex came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, although he couldn't quite get them around the circumference of her 29 week pregnant belly. His son greeted him with a series of excited kicks that Alex knew he had been giving Jo all day.

“Thank God you're home,” Jo said as she leaned back into his arms and Alex took her weight as she rested against him.

“Long day,” Alex asked as he started slowly swaying back and forth, gently holding her and her belly as he kissed the side of her head.

“The girls just seem to have endless energy today,” Jo said as she closed her eyes and hummed as his lips met her skin, fully relaxing against him. “I took them to the park twice, and they're still bouncing off the walls, and this one has decided to use my kidneys as punching bags and my bladder as a trampoline. Thankfully we have all of the carpets put away since we're potty training Edith because I've had two accidents today.”

“Well, I'm home now, so why don't I finish dinner and entertain the girls, and you can go lay down?” Alex said as Jo turned around and wrapped her arms around his neck and she leaned in to properly kiss him.

“I’d love that, but I think our girls would be rather disappointed if their Mommy was a runaway bride,” Jo said as she opened her eyes to smile at him.

“Yeah, what's with all this wedding stuff?” Alex asked as he easily smiled back at her.

“I showed them our wedding album. They absolutely loved it, but they were a little disappointed that they weren't present for our wedding, so they insisted that we have a redo so that they could be a part of it.”

Alex laughed and leaned in to kiss her again. “Are you gonna put on your bloodstained wedding dress?”

“Ha, I can't fit into that dress anymore, not since you knocked me up again!” Jo scoffed as she pulled back to put her hand on her back as she showed off her belly. “Oh Jo, let’s have sex right after my vasectomy. There’s no way you'll get pregnant, ra ra ra ra.”

“Your impression of me has clearly not gotten better since we got married,” Alex said, holding back another laugh as Jo glared at him.

Jo pushed the box of wild rice into his chest. “It's your turn to make dinner and entertain the kids. I need a break.”

He watched her waddle away and he couldn't help but smile at her. However, when she turned to glare at him, he busied himself with reading the instructions on the box of rice. Jo collapsed on the couch while Reeses curled up with her and the girls planned the wedding around her. He went over to the kitchen and started the rice before getting the girls' attention and helping them with their wedding plans.

Their plan seemed quite elaborate, and soon enough, the three of them had everything set up and were pulling Jo off the couch to take her upstairs. Alex pulled out the roasted broccoli and cauliflower out of the oven and put them on the table to cool next to the chicken and the wild rice. Since they had the girls, the two of them had made an effort to learn how to cook and although they weren’t the best cooks, they had a couple dozen dishes they could make pretty well.

With dinner done and his girls occupied, Alex took the opportunity to slip away down the hall into the office they had at the front of the house. Reeses picked up his head from where he was lying under the table, avoiding the chaos, and followed Alex into the room. The office was mostly just their grown-up space, where they kept the things they didn’t want the girls getting into, along with some work stuff and official documents. Alex grabbed his spare shaving kit from his work bag and went over to the bathroom. A few minutes later, he heard the sound of little footsteps as one of the girls came down the stairs.

“Daddy, where are you?” Helena called out down the hall.

“I'll be out in a second, Lena,” Alex said as he ran the warm rag over his shorted stubble.

Anytime he wanted to look nice for Jo or the girls, he would shave or trim his beard. The girls thought it was weird when he was clean shaven and Jo always liked him with a little bit of scruff. She once said that she liked it because it made him look ruggedly handsome and because it tickled her thighs.

“But Daddy!” Helena complained, dragging out his name as she sometimes dragged her feet on the floor. “We're ready for you now.”

“Yes, but I'm patient with you in the mornings, so I'm asking you to be patient with me now,” Alex said as he finished up.

Helena huffed, but patiently waited outside the door for him. He washed the razor and put it away before looking in the mirror one last time as he fixed his tie. Then he grabbed one of the extra clip-on bow ties that he had and attached it to Reese's collar. With the two boys all dressed up, he came out of the bathroom. Helena was sitting against the wall, clapping her tiny little plastic shoes together. She gasped and her mouth formed into a tiny o when she saw him. Of all of their girls, Helena looked most like Jo, and her expression was the same one that Jo got when she was excited.

“What do you think, Princess? Do Daddy and Reeses clean up nice?” Alex asked as he stood up straighter and buttoned his suit jacket.

“Ah hum, you look very handsome, just like in your picture,” Helena said as she held up the picture frame with one of their wedding photos. It was the one that he kept on his nightstand.

“Thank you,” Alex said as he pulled her up and offered her his hand as they walked back down the hall and into the empty living room. “Now, where is my lovely bride?”

“Mommy's upstairs cuz you're not supposed to see the bride before the wedding,” Helena explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world as she pushed him over to stand next to the fireplace. “Now stay here and we'll be down in a second.”

“Okay,” Alex said as he stood against the fireplace and watched her race back up the stairs.

He and Reese's dutifully stood next to each other by the fireplace as they waited for their girls. He couldn't keep the smile off his face and he’d be lying if he said he wasn't excited to see everything the girls had planned. He would never turn down the opportunity to marry Jo again. Soon enough, he could hear the giggles of his daughters as they all gathered at the top of the stairs. Eventually, Luna came down and leaned over the railing.

“Hey, Google play the orchestra wedding march,” Luna said as the speaker responded and started playing the music. As the music played, all three of the girls came down the stairs one at a time, spreading the flower petals as they went and giggling with glee.

Alex smiled as he watched them. Luna came first, then Edith and then Helena, and they all embodied such happiness as they walked over to him. They all looked so beautiful in their white dresses with flower petals that stuck to their hair. He tried not to get choked up as he envisioned what they would look like on their wedding days if they choose to get married. Once they were all standing next to him, they all looked back to the stairs as Jo’s feet stepped down onto the steps. Before she took another step, the music paused, and she changed it to a slow live cover of Taylor Swift’s Paper Rings.

Jo looked down at the steps as she descended down the stairs one foot at a time. As she walked, she held the skirt of the white lace sundress she had changed into with the other hand on the railing. The white sundress floated around her and the girls had put some of the daisy petals in her hair.

He could feel time slow down as he watched her every move, and when she looked up at him and smiled, it took his breath away. Even while heavily pregnant, after three kids, and eight years of marriage, she was still the most beautiful woman in the world, and he was head over heels in love with her. Her eyes sparkled as she smiled and an easy, happy grin spread across his face. This was one of the things that he wished they had gotten on their wedding day. Watching Jo walk down to him was breathtaking. It was something that he missed out on with both of their weddings. Even though it was just them at their house, only slightly dressed up, he felt the same way he did on his wedding day all those years ago. He was so much in awe of her beauty and still so much in love with her.

She walked up to him and he reached out to take her hand and pull her in. He wrapped them around her hips as much as he could with her baby bump in between them as it pressed against his stomach. Their son greeted him with a few light fluttered kicks.

“You look amazing,” Alex said as he leaned his forehead against hers.

“Thank you,” Jo whispered as she smiled and her eyes fluttered close.

He leaned in to kiss her, but just as their lips touched, a roar of protest came from the girls as they all shrieked and Reeses barked. The girls pulled at their clothes, trying to get them apart.

“No, Mommy, no,” Edith and Helena said as they tugged on Jo's arms.

“Daddy, no, you're not supposed to kiss the bride before you're married!” Luna shrieked as Alex finally pulled apart and he and Jo both laughed.

“Okay, okay,” Alex said as he leaned back and took Jo’s hands and his own. “So who's officiating this thing?”

“I am,” Luna said as she held up her clipboard again.

“I'm the flower girl,” Helena said as she wiggled back and forth in excitement, holding her basket of flower petals.

“And I'm the ring bear, roar,” Edith said with a giggle as they all laughed. She was holding the box that held Jo's engagement ring for so long but now sat empty and his nightstand.

“And Reese's is your best man,” Helena added giving his head a pat as he happily sat next to her.

“Ah-hem.” Luna cleared her throat as she stood between them on the tile of the fireplace. She looked up at them and suddenly decided she was too short and ran over to grab a chair, as they all quietly watched as she brought it over.

As she was moving the chair over, Helena fluffed up Jo's dress as Edith tugged on his hand, quietly asking for the ring on his finger. He handed it over to her and she carefully put it in the ring box next to Jo’s wedding rings.

Finally, Luna stood up on the chair and looked down at the little speech on her clipboard that Jo had written in her plain yet elegant handwriting. “Daddy, do you take Mommy to be your lawfully wedded wife? For better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” Alex said, smiling at Jo. He was still as happy to say it as he was when he first married her.

“Mommy, do you take Daddy to be your lawfully wedded husband? For better or worse, for richer or poorer?”

“For richer or pregnant,” Jo corrected her as she giggled and put a hand on her belly.

“That's what your Mommy said to me, the last time we got married, although she wasn't actually pregnant then,” Alex moved to put his hands on her belly too, as they felt their son kick their hands.

“And then Daddy made quick work of that,” Jo said, looking over at Helena as she winked at her, and the two of them shared a giggle.

“Mommy, stick to the script,” Luna whispered to her, giving her a no-nonsense look.

“Okay, sorry,” Jo said as she looked over at Alex raising her eyebrows at him. Neither of them knew where their girls got their sass, but they did spend a lot of time with their Auntie Amelia.

“In sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?” Luna finished giving them a big smile as she looked between the two of them.

“I super do,” Jo said as she smiled at him using the exact same words that she had when they first got married.

“And now the rings,” Edith said excitedly as she held up the box above her head for both of them.

“Yes, now give Mommy Daddy's ring,” Luna instructed as Edith opened the box and Jo took out Alex's ring.

“I like Daddy's ring,” Helena said as she watched Jo take a hold of it and Jo held it out for her to see. “It's simple and shiny.”

“I like it too,” Alex said as he looked down at it before glancing up at Jo as she smiled and held the ring against his finger.

“Mommy, repeat after me,” Luna said, and she started again. “With this ring, I the wed.”

“With this ring, I thee wed,” Jo said as she slipped the ring onto his finger where it was supposed to be.

Alex took Jo's wedding ring from Edith as she closed the box with a snap, and Jo held out her hand, and Alex held the ring against her finger.

“Daddy repeat after me, with this ring I thee wed.”

“With this ring, I thee wed,” Alex said as he tried to slip the ring onto Jo’s finger, but it got stuck right away.

“Oh no, how are you going to marry Mommy now?” Edith lamented as she stood up on her toes and leaned on Alex’s arm.

“I just took it off a few hours ago to make dinner. How did they get so swollen so fast,” Jo said in disappointment as she looked down at the ring on the tip of her finger.

“It's alright,” Alex said as he looked around the room. He quickly spotted a pipe cleaner on the couch next to a few other paper crafts and wedding decorations, and he went over to grab it and quickly formed a ring. When he came back, it easily slipped onto Jo's finger. “Luckily for you, I'd marry you with paper rings.”

“Daddy, that's a pipe cleaner,” Helena said as she leaned over to whisper to him.

“Ah, same thing,” Alex said as all of the girls laughed and Jo smiled down at her new ring.

“Are they married now?” Edith asked, jumping up on her toes and hanging off of Alex's arm.

“Not yet. They have to kiss first,” Helena said as she leaned against Jo's side and wrapped her arms around her legs.

“Oh yeah, and then we get to throw more petals,” Edith said with a giggle as she grabbed a handful in her fist.

“Shhh,” Luna shushed them as she gave them a look before she looked down at the clipboard. “I now pronounce you husband and wife. Daddy, you may kiss the bride.”

Alex smiled as he pulled Jo in and kissed her lips. They let themselves linger as they kissed, enjoying each other’s lips. Jo wrapped her arms around his neck and put a hand on his cheek like she always did. He would never get tired of kissing her like this. Each kiss was full of magic and the same sparks that he felt when he first kissed her in the dark hallway of the hospital on that stormy night.

As they kissed, the girls shouted and laughed and Reeses barked and ran around them. The girls threw pedals that got in their hair and on their faces, and when they finally pulled back to catch their breath, he brushed a daisy petal off of Jo's cheek. Helena pulled out one of their phones and they took a bunch of pictures. However, Jo and Alex only saw the flash of the camera as they were lost in each other's eyes.

The excitement of their little wedding lingered throughout the night. It was all the girls could talk about as they ate dinner and got ready for bed. Alex kissed Edith’s forehead and whispered goodnight to her as Jo picked her up and carried her to her room. She was already down for the count and fell asleep in the middle of the story. Reeses follow Jo out so she could put him in his crate in their bedroom, whenever Jo was pregnant Reeses was reluctant to leave her side. Alex tucked Helena into bed on the bottom bunk of the bunk beds that she shared with Luna in their room. Helena looked up at him through sleepy eyelashes, already half asleep as he brushed the curls out of her face.

“Sweet dreams, Princess,” Alex said, kissing her forehead as she just mumbled a goodnight to him.

He stood up and leaned his arms over the railing of Luna’s top bunk as she stared at him. “Daddy, I'm not tired at all. Can’t I stay up a little bit longer with you and Mommy?”

“Well, truth be told, Mommy and I are probably going to go straight to bed. We're no fun at all these days,” Alex said as he leaned down to kiss her forehead.

“Fine,” she relented, her eyes fluttering and close as she let out a yawn.

“Goodnight,” Alex said as he turned to walk out of the room and just as he was about to close the door, he heard her voice again.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah, Luna?” Alex whispered and he looked over as she rolled onto her side to look at him.

“I'm really happy that you married Mommy and that you adopted me and gave me two sisters and an almost brother. I love my family.”

Alex's heart melted in his chest, and he smiled. Sometimes he wondered how they ended up with such perfect, wonderful daughters and he thanked his lucky stars every day. He felt Jo’s arms wrapped around his waist as she snuggled up next to him.

“We love you too, Little Moon, and we're so happy that you're a part of our family too,” Jo said, speaking for both of them.

Luna smiled and closed her eyes as she clutched her plush rocket ship close to her chest. Jo and Alex quietly shut the door behind them as they walked arm-in-arm back into their bedroom. They said goodnight to Reeses, although like Edith, he was already fast asleep as they closed the door on his kennel.

“What did we do to deserve her, or any of them,” Alex asked, placing his hand on Jo's belly. Their son kicked his hand and he smiled as he leaned down to kiss her belly.

“I ask myself that every day,” Jo said as she put her hands on his cheek and kissed him.

He smiled against her lips, enjoying her sweet and soft kiss, but when she pulled away, he pulled her back in again. He kissed her twice and then a third time before he finally pulled away.

“What was that for?” Jo said, opening her eyes and looking up at him with a soft smile.

“Once because it’s been a long day, twice because I love you, and three times because I’ve waited my whole life to be married to you.”

Jo smiled so big and wide and happily as she pulled him over to their bed and giggled, but then her smile turned into a smirk. “Have I mentioned that you should start writing poetry again?”

Alex let out a laugh remembering what she said to him when she was an intern. “I was trying to be sweet.”

“Just pretty poetry about love and horses and princesses,” Jo said with a laugh as she crawled into bed.

“Shut up, you love it,” Alex said as he crawled in next to her, pulling her close and tickling her sides as she shrieked with laughter. Jo covered her mouth before they woke up the girls as they continued to laugh and have a tickle fight with each other.

“Okay, stop, stop, I'm going to pee myself,” Jo said as he finally relented and she caught her breath.

“Wouldn't be the first time today,” Alex said without thinking as Jo smacked him with a pillow. “I'm just saying.”

“Ugh,” Jo said as she rolled her eyes and laid back in bed. “Why did I ever marry you or let you get me pregnant.”

“Because you love me,” Alex said as he got up on his knees to lean her over and kiss her as his hands made their way under her shirt and over her belly, down to more intimate places. “And because I'm really good in bed.”

“That’s true,” Jo said as she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him again.

After their late night activities, they laid together in bed, and Alex pressed a kiss against her shoulder, and Jo went through the photos the girls had taken on her phone.

“They were kind of right, though,” Jo said as she stopped on the picture of all five of them where all the girls were smiling, a miracle in itself.

“About what?” Alex said as he turned his head to look at her.

“It was nice that they were able to be a part of such a special moment for us. It was nice to recreate a little bit of our wedding magic and it was nice to walk down the aisle to you.”

“Yeah, it was,” Alex said as he remembered that moment. “I don't think I'll ever forget the vision of you coming down the stairs in that white dress. You looked so beautiful.”

Jo smiled as she turned to lay back and look at him, putting her hands on her belly as he put a hand over her and felt their son wiggling under their hands, always so excited to greet them. She had been a little insecure about her appearance since she got pregnant the first time, but as she looked at him now, he could tell that she believed him.

“Seeing you standing there waiting for me, and the look on your face is something that I’ll remember forever,” Jo said as she reached up to put a hand on his cheek. “I'm glad I married you, Alex Karev.”

“I'm glad I married you too, Jo Karev. You’re the only one I want for the rest of my life,” Alex said as he leaned down and kissed her again. He loved her so much, and he would marry her again and again, with real rings or paper rings. So long as he was married to her, he was happy, and so was she.

I want your dreary Mondays wrap your arms around me, baby boy. I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings. Uh huh, that's right, you're the one I want. I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this, Uh huh, Darling, you're the one I want.

#jo wilson #alex karev #grey's anatomy #jolex #TSJolexWeek21 #otp: home and heart #grey's anatomy fanfic #my work #my writing #my fanfiction #my photos #my edits

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cal-puddies · 6 years

Text

When You’re Ready || calum hood || pt 2

Cal was, not surprisingly, right, and you fell asleep rather quickly. You woke up closer to noon and in extreme pain and panic. Pain because you’d woken up on your broken ribs and panic because you weren’t quite sure where you were, a side effect of the possible concussion they’d warned you and Cal about.

Once you calm yourself and see Duke looking at you from the door, you remember staying at Cal’s and in his room. You slowly get up and make your way down the hall to where Cal is making slight noise.

“Hey.” You say meekly, finding him in his kitchen.

He immediately sets to action, grabbing some Tylenol and a glass of water. “Hi, how ya feelin?” He asks, handing them over.

“Like I got hit by a bus.” You take the water and pills from him. “Thank you…” you swallow the pills and drink the water, “I think they were right about the mild concussion last night.”

“I thought they might be.” He agrees, now going to the freezer to grab a couple ice packs. He throws them on the counter and grabs a couple kitchen towels and wraps them. Watching him almost makes you sick to your stomach, it’s become so second nature to him. He grabs the larger one and an ace bandage off the counter. “Lift the shirt.” He murmurs. You do as he says and he straps the ice pack to your ribs. He hands you the smaller one, “for your face. 20 minutes and we’ll take em off. I’m gonna make some breakfast.” You hold the ice pack onto your nose and enough to cover the stitches on your cheek. He looks you over, “might need a bigger one for those black eyes.” He kisses the side of your head as he walks around you.

“Fuck, that bad?” You ask.

“Worst I’ve seen.” He mentions, pulling ingredients together for breakfast. “Oh!” He slides your phone across the counter. “This has been going off since I plugged it in.”

You press the center button and see all the texts and calls from Mark. “Can you turn it off, I don’t want to deal with it right now.” You slide it back across to him and he nods his head.

“Sure thing.” He gives you a little smile and does as you ask. You sit at the counter and aside from whatever Cal is whipping up and some humming from him, there’s no sound.

He’s sets a plate of food in front of you and then a cup of coffee. He gently grabs the ice pack you’re holding to your face and he sees your upset, but doesn’t ask about it yet. He taps your side and you lift your shirt, while he’s unwrapping the ace bandage tears start to fall from your eyes. He doesn’t say anything, just rubs your back, trying to comfort you. “Why do I keep letting him do this?” You whimper.

Cal lets out a little sigh, he rests his hand on the back of your head and pulls you in so your head rests on his shoulder and he holds you while you cry. “I dunno baby. I keep asking the same thing.” He whispers, resting his cheek on your head. He holds you like that until you calm down.

“I feel like I don’t know who I am anymore.” You sniffle. “I wanna be done... I wanna press charges… Calum, I’m not this girl.”

“Hey.” He puts his hand on the side of your face until you look up at him. “I know you’re not. Sometimes we just get caught up. But I’m here to support whatever you wanna do, like I said last night. You want to press charges? I have the cards the cops gave me. We can call them.”

“He’s gonna kill me, Calum.” You whisper.

“He’s not gonna touch you. We’ll call, let them know you wanna press charges and then when he’s arrested we’ll get the guys to help get your stuff.” He puts his other hand on the other side of your face, and You sniffle. He feels tears slip from your eyes. “Everything is going to be ok.” He whispers. You look back at him again and nod your head and then push yourself into his arms. He easily engulfs you, he pulls you onto the chair with him. “It’s ok baby.” He soothes.

“I’m sorry I’ve put you through this.” You whimper against his skin.

He rubbed your back and shushed you, letting you cry it out. “I hate it, sweet girl, but I can handle this. What I can’t handle is losing you.” He presses his lips to the side of your head. “Let’s call and tell them you wanna press charges ok?” You nod your head and Cal gets up and let’s you go. “I’ll get the card and my phone. Eat something.” You sit back in your chair and pick at your food.

Cal notices you haven’t really eaten when he comes back in but he doesn’t say anything. He’s worried about you, but he also knows you just made a big decision. He sets his phone and the card beside you. “You’ll stay right here?” You look up at him.

“F’course. I’ll be right here.” He let you wrap your casted hand around his fingers as you picked up his phone in your good hand. You quickly unlocked his phone and dialed the number on the card.

The officer went over what was likely going to happen and made sure you had a safe place to stay. He also thanked you for giving it more thought and said he’d let you know once Mark had been picked up so you could go get your stuff. He figured it’d be later in the afternoon, as they needed Cal to send the photos he had and get the ones that had been taken at the hospital from the previous night.

Once you were done with that, you ate a couple bites of food and then got up to grab your phone. You had countless texts and voicemails from Mark already and you’d read through just the recent few, they went from angry to apologetic quickly. You handed it to Cal. “Delete everything, change his name to something I won’t recognize, and block him. Please.” He nods and sets to work. Half watching you eat and half taking care of what you’d asked of him.

Once it’s done Cal sets your phone on the counter. “I wanna take a shower.” He mentions. He rubs his fingers along your scalp to the pony tail you have it up in. “You’ve got dried blood.” He makes a disgusted face.

“I feel like half of my body is still covered in dried blood.” You sigh.

“You need a shower too then.” He says matter of factly.

“And I need help.” You say, holding up your hand on the cast.

“Lucky for you, I am excellent at hair washing.” He jokes.

“I actually know that about you.” You laugh. And it makes Calum smile because it’s the first time in a while you look almost happy. But you did know it to be true, back when you and Cal met and would hook up and shower together whenever, he’d always been willing to help.

“Let’s waterproof you.” He smirks. Cal tapes off your stitches and finds something to put over your arm. He washes your hair for you and helps you get all the dried blood off.

You go through the spare clothes you keep at Calum’s for clean underwear. “Can I borrow a shirt?” You ask, looking at him.

“Sure.” He tosses you one. “You look exhausted.” He murmurs, coming close to you once he’s dressed and you’ve pulled the t shirt on. You nod, “Let’s nap. I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night either.” He kisses your forehead. You end up on the couch, your face pressed to his bare chest, legs tangled together, a blanket over you as you sleep on him. Cal actually loved these moments, he liked you close and he knew you were safe.

You are both awoken late in the evening, the cops were calling to let you know they’d picked up Mark and it would be a couple days before he was processed. The officer also offered to be at the apartment when you went to collect your things.

Cal coordinates Luke and Ashton to show up in the morning, but Mikey had said he was out since him and Crys were traveling.

Ash shows up first, promptly at 11 am, as he was asked. You figured that Cal must have made it sound important. You’re in the kitchen with ice packs again.

“What the fuck happened to you?” He asks, gently pulling at the ice pack on your face.

“I’ll tell you when Luke gets here so I don’t have to say it twice.” You grumble.

“Ice pack back on your face babe.” Cal mentions as he comes in after Ash. “Thank you.” He replies after you put it back.

Luke is exactly 15 minutes late but he brought coffee and muffins, so you didn’t mind. Ash let him in while Cal was unwrapping the ice pack from your ribs. “Hey… whoa, what happened here?” Luke asked, gently brushing his fingers across your cheek.

You looked at Cal, he’d just pushed your shirt back down, and then at Ash and Luke who just wanted answers. “Um Mark happened to me, for the last time.” You shrug.

“Excuse me? I’ll fucking kill him.” Ash immediately responds.

“Well… we went to the hospital on Friday night and I got checked out and gave a statement and the cops picked him up last night. So I just need help getting my stuff and figuring out what to do with my car. I don’t want him to be able to find me that way.” You pause and you can tell Ashton isn’t any calmer, you haven’t even looked at Luke, but when you do, he looks a little confused and he’s looking at Cal.

“You can leave your car at my place.” Ash says. “He knows where I live but he also knows you don’t stay with me… at least until you can trade it in.”

“Which were gonna do tomorrow.” Cal says.

“Yes. It’s all part of the plan before he gets out.” You look at Cal.

Suddenly you are engulfed in Luke’s arms from behind. “Why wouldn’t you tell us? How long has this been going on?” It’s the most helpless you’ve ever heard him sound.

“Emotionally? About a year and a half. Physically? About nine months... And I told Cal. He’s been my safe space and it just… I need it to stop. I don’t know me anymore.”

“And I can’t watch it anymore.” Cal states matter of factly.

Luke holds onto you longer. “I dunno what we would have done if it was worse, babe.” His lips press to the top of your head.

“M’sorry Luke.” You say quietly.

“No… no no no.” He responds, letting you go and standing in front of you. “Don’t apologize for a fucking thing. You don’t need to apologize.” Luke put his hand under your chin and pulled your face up to meet his eyes. “I’m so fucking glad you are ok and you are getting out of it. Thank you for trusting us.”

Everyone is silent for a bit, before Cal springs everyone to action. “Ok, so, she’s not gonna be much help, she’s got broken ribs, her arm is broken and her nose is broken, so she pretty much needs us to help grab stuff. I figure we can all drive separate so there’s more space and we can get done faster.”

“I don’t have a ton there honestly. Most of my stuff is still up north at my dads. So it’s gonna be clothes and a few odds and ends.” You shrug.

“And she’s gonna stay here with me, for the time being.” Cal interjects.

pt 1 || pt 3

#calum hood #5sos calum #calum imagine #cth #but cal!#when you’re ready #5sos imagine #5sos #5 seconds of summer #cass

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geekygoddesss · 6 years

Text

Wisdom teeth Surgery

Luke

I knew Luke was very fidgety, but he crossed the line today. His fingers were nervously tapping on his thigh and he kept looking everywhere around the room while we waited for the doctor to come in. At his 21 years of life, he was having his wisdom teeth taken out and he was more nervous than any little kid could be. It was nothing to be this nervous about, but I couldn’t blame him, it was also his first surgery, so I understood he was this nervous.

“Babe” I call him laying my hand on his shoulder “You’ll be fine”

“Yes” He says, still tapping and drumming some kind of rhythm on his thighs. “Can I have gum?” He asks looking up at me.

“No” I chuckle.

“Please?

“You’re about to have your teeth taken out, you are not having gum” I chuckle, leaning in and kissing his forehead.

“I could have bad breath” he tries to excuse.

“You literally brushed your teeth right in front of me before leaving the house” I laugh

“That doesn’t guarantee fresh minty breath” he says raising his eyebrows.

“It doesn’t matter, you’re not having gum” I tell him and caress his hair “You need to relax, honey, this is no big deal”

“You’re just saying that” he groans a little.

“No-“ I say but I am interrupted by the door suddenly opening. We shut up and Luke seems to grow even more nervous. The doctor was finally here.

“Hi” she says with a bright smile “Luke Hemmings, right?” She asks first before closing the door behind her.

“That’s me” He nods and they shake hands kindly.

“Nice to meet you, I’m doctor Mitchell, I will be doing your surgery today” she introduces kindly “You must be the girlfriend” she smiles up to me and I shake her hand as well.

“I’m the girlfriend” I say with a quiet chuckle.

“It’s good that you brought someone with you, you’ll need it” she says, sitting on a chair and reaching for some of the stuff she will be needing soon.

“What?” He says nervously “Why- Why should I need it?”

The doctor laughs just a little at Luke nervousness. “Have you never heard about these surgeries?” She asks and Luke shook his head “it’s alright, you will be sleeping the entire time, you won't feel a thing”

He looks up at me and I shrug, I can sense he felt relieved because he won’t be wide awake during the entire thing, he was still very nervous and his hand was shaking a little.

“I don’t want to take much of your time, so if you have something to do right now then you can go, we’ll be ready in about one or two hours” she says smiling at me “I’m going to get the nurse and we’ll start as soon as possible” she says excusing herself and getting out of the room

“Okay” I smile to her as she leaves.

I take my purse from Luke’s lap and kiss his forehead before starting to walk out myself.

“Don’t you dare to leave me in here, alone” he says in a scared tone.

“You’re 21, can’t you handle being at the dentist alone?” I scoff turning around and winking at him “I’m joking baby, but you heard her, she’s gonna start soon, I can’t stay here during surgery”

“Well, at least tell me you’ll be outside waiting for me” he says in a big pout as I walk up to him and caress his hair softly

“I’m gonna be on the waiting room waiting for you” I assure him “I love you”

“I love you more” he said leaning in for a short kiss “See you in two hours”

“See you” I say smiling at him as I finally walk out of that room.

God, he was such a big baby about this.

Calum

“Hey! Look at you, you did it!” I cheer at him when seeing him all fine and dandy on the dentist chair.

He just had his wisdom teeth removed for the first time ever and after being all nervous for the entire day, he was finally here and everything has been done, he was now wisdom teeth free and totally high because of all the anesthesia he was given just a couple of hours ago.

“Why do you look like... wow” He says in a quiet mumble “you look taller”

I laughed, he looked funny, two cotton balls stuck in his mouth to stop the bleeding inside his mouth and he still tried to talk with them like nothing happened at all. He also looked very confused about everything, It was actually funny.

“Laughing gas” the doctor explains, the second I threw Calum a weird look.

“Oh” I nod, laughing “ready to go home?” I ask him in his confusion

“Wait, but, where’s the ice cream?” he asks in a very groggy tone “My gums are bloody I want chocolate Ice cream.

“Okay” I chuckle helping him get up his seat, letting him lean on me as the doctor helped me carrying him out the room.

“Yeah, I would recommend you to give him Ice cream, maybe in like, an hour” He speaks as we walk out the room “and only soft foods and soups for the rest of the week, come back on Monday to take the stitches out”

“Noted” I nod when we reach the front door that led to the parking lot “Thanks a lot, doc”

“Thanks, Doctor” Said Calum, being very, very, close to my ear “You are a good looking man”

“Thanks, man” The doctor laughs and opens the door for us “You look great too” he compliments Calum, obviously totally joking. Have a good day guys”

We said our goodbyes and get out that door. Calum let go of my hold and stood up straight, walking out the door and turning around for a second to look up at me “I wanna drive” He says extending his hand for me to give him the keys.

“No way, dude” I chuckle, hugging my purse close to me “You’re high”

“Nah” he shakes his head “I am better than ever, Look” he says trying to give a little spin but almost stumbling into his feet and falling, Luckily I catch him right in time. “See? I’m okay” He says trying to get up by himself but failing, I have to assist him “I could do a back flip if I wanted to”

“Sure thing” I say kissing his cheek while leading him to the car. “So, ice cream, Vanilla or Chocolate?”

Michael

“Babe, babe” He calls me several times “Be careful, you’re going to spill everything” He says while taking the cold smoothie out of my hands.

Nothing was really that much clear in my head at the moment right now, the weirdest thoughts were coming to mind and everything was looking amazinly funny today, I guess that’s what happened after being on the laughing gas for about an hour, finally being on the road home after my wisdom teeth surgery, I was having a blast with my boyfriend as he drove, he bought me a smoothie, the most delicious one on earth and now we were finally heading home so I could stuff my face in Ice cream, this was the most fun I’ve ever had.

“Hey, That’s mine” I pout trying to get my smoothie back, as soon as he stops in a red light.

“You’ll have it back when we get home” he says trying to stay serious at my grogginess “Sorry”

“You meanie” I pout leaning back on my sit. I look around, trying to find something to keep me occupied other than my now stolen smoothie, I look at Michael’s side, he is too concentrated looking at the road, even when the red light was still on, then I look at my side and reach for the bottoms on my door. I press one and yeah, I totally opened the door.

I start laughing and open it almost completely before Michael starts panicking.

“Fuck (Y/n), Close that” He says getting rid of his seat belt as fast as he could to close the door for me, but before he can do that, I put my leg out, holding the door open with my foot.

“Look my foot is so pretty” I say before breaking out into a fit of laughs.

“Yes, is beautiful” He says leaning in as fast as he could and closing the door for me, quickly.

Greenlight, Just in time.

“Weird, Did you just called my foot pretty?” I ask him while extending my foot in front of me. “That’s weirddd” I drag the word as much as I can.

“Yeah, totally weird” He laughs at me and with his free hand, puts the seat belt on again “Don’t ever do that again, geez”

“When we’re home, can we have sex?” I ask in total curiosity, he laughs way too hard trying to keep his eyes on the road.

“I don’t know, can we?” He says, not being serious at all “Are you going to be able to stop yourself from bleeding all over me? You just got stitches babe” he jokes.

“But the doctor said it will make me feel a lot better” I say, not being sure of what was coming out of my mouth.

“No he didn’t” he laughs

“Yes he did!” I argue “I’m high and I want sex”

“Jesus” He sighs trying to keep himself together “Let’s be real, you’re going to pass out as soon as we get home”

“No” I whine throwing my head back “Is that a bet?”

“Maybe” he shrugs, not taking his eyes off the road for a single second.

“Get it on” I say in my most challenging tone.

News Flash, I fell asleep five minutes after that. Laughing gas was great.

Ashton

“Oh my god, this is awful” he whines as sticking the cold spoon full of Ice cream in his mouth.

After a two hour surgery and a three-hour nap, he was finally awake and in a lot of pain, he just had his wisdom teeth taken out and he was seriously suffering from this. He whined while eating his ice cream, but apparently, the cold feeling in his mouth made him feel a little bit better.

“You can’t have more medicine” I remind him and I steal a little bit of his ice cream with my spoon “Keep eating and then you can take another nap”

“Ugh” he groans “I can’t take another nap like this, I am in pain”

I give him a sympathetic smile “I know, honey”

He frowns and keep eating from his tub of ice cream as I look at him, His cheeks were already starting to swallow after the operation and it was kind of funny to think how his face would look for the next three days as he would recover from it.

“You’re starting to look like a squirrel” I joke while caressing his cheek a little “A little big squirrel” I laugh.

“Ugh, tell me about it” He rolls his eyes “Calum is going to crack when he sees me” He comments “Actually, everyone will” He says rolling his eyes one more time. “Can we just hide here for the rest of the week and tell everyone we are out of town?” he asks innocently. “I don’t want anyone to see me”

I laugh “I mean we could” I shrug “But you won’t be able to stay more than 24 hours in a total lock down”

He seems to think about it, before nodding and going back to his ice cream “You know me so well” he says with his mouth full “Take a nap with me” he says almost as an order “As much as I love this ice cream, I need to sleep and forget about this damn pain”

I laugh and nod at his request before taking the tub away from him and walking to the kitchen.

“By the way” I hear him say from the living room “I don’t want to hear the world “Squirrel” for the next three days” he warns, making me laugh

“Does the word “Hamster” sounds a lot better to you?” I say in a funny tone.

“I’m serious” he says walking into the kitchen and leaning on the counter as I walk up to him “I’ll be looking like a damn balloon on the next days, I would like to not hear about it”

“Sure, babe” I say rolling my eyes and kissing his cheek shortly “C’mon, let’s go for that nap”

#5sos preferences #5 seconds of summer preferences #luke hemmings imagines #calum hood imagines #michael clifford imagines #ashton irwin imagines #5sos #5 seconds of summer

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