#Then when thursday comes nobody will be left to greet her :(

[thatoneluckybee]

nowhere on earth right now is it thursday why is this making me sad

[vivwritesfics]

Set The World On Fire

Chapter One

Lando Norris had been incredibly angry when they met. Incredibly angry, but sweet enough to help her. Turns out he just needed somebody to talk to, somebody to be there for him.

He was easy to fall for, and that put her in a world of danger

Mafia AU

1.9K

Series Masterlist

PLEASE READ!!: While this story is a part of the NNTA universe, the reader is no longer Lando's sister. To not spoil how people read NNTA, Lando's sister will not be given a name in this story. She will be referred to, but only as his sister (because it's very key for the plot)

They went on three dates before she worked out who he was. He was attractive, sure, but there wasn't much else to him. On the third date, she worked out what a waste of space he was.

The first instance was when she wolf whistled a waitress. It was disgusting, she was disgusted, and the waitress was definitely going to spit in their food. But she stuck it out, making a promise to herself that she wasn't going to call him after that date.

"Well," she said somewhat awkwardly after they had paid their bill, splitting it down the middle (he definitely had more drinks and the more expensive meal, but whatever. If she had to pay more than she owed to get away from him, then so be it). "Are you still okay to drive me home?"

"Sure thing, babe," he said as they walked across the car park, heading towards his shitbox of a car.

She scrunched up her face at that. Why did he have to call her babe? She wasn't anything to him and she never would be.

He got into his car and started his engine. For a moment she thought he was going to drive away without her, leave her stranded at the restaurant.

She quickly got into the car, kept her small back on her lap as he sped away. Everything was a blur, to the point where she couldn't tell which way they were going.

Turns out, it was the wrong way. The car stopped outside of a building with bright, neon lights. It was near blinding, and it definitely wasn't where she lived. "What the fuck," she couldn't stop herself from saying. "Why are we at a strip club?"

"Relax, baby." There was that word again. "Just come in with me. I'll by you a drink and then I'll take you home."

Yeah, she wasn't moving from the car. Anger simmered just bellow her skin as she fished through her bag and pulled out her phone. The phone she was sure she had charged before she left the house. So why the fuck was it dead?

She was at her wits end. "Well, you can stay here if you want," her date said. "But, uh, make sure you keep the car door locked."

It was the way he said it that had her climbing out of the car with him. She kept a tight hold of her bag as she followed him into the nearly empty club. It would be nearly empty, it was 7pm on a Thursday.

As soon as they were into the strip club, her date made a beeline for the bar. She followed him, out of necessity. After getting himself a drink, he sat himself in front of the stage.

Looking a little like a lost dog, she followed him to the stage. This was his regular spot, this much was clear by the way he greeted the other men around him. "The big boss is here," One of the men said to him. He nodded and looked back of his date, but she didn't hear it.

He smirked. How was the big boss going to act now that there was a woman in the club, one that wasn't working for him. He was known for being an asshole and abrupt when talking to people in his club. Lets just say, nobody stuck around for his friendly demeaner.

Whether the pair could feel the bosses eyes on them or not, he was watching. He sipped his whisky from his private booth at the back of the club as he watched.

She wasn't comfortable, that was for sure. She looked so uncomfortable sat in front of the stage, her eyes fixated on her shoes. She didn't once glance at the girls on the stage.

Lando felt so fucking sorry for her.

But he sat back and watched for just a few minutes more. Maybe they were just stopping in on their way to do something else. He didn't take his eyes off of her though.

They weren't going anywhere. After a good twenty minutes they hadn't moved, and she still looked uncomfortable.

Lando put his almost finished whisky down onto his table and stood up. Nobody would touch it if he left it there, he knew. Not if they wanted to keep their lives. He ran his fingers through his curls, shoved his hands into his pockets, and strode over.

The men sat around her were looking around at the others girls spread around the club. When they spotted Lando they visibly stiffened up and turned back around, facing the stage in front of them.

Lando was noticeably calm as he walked over, something they weren't used to. Normally, when Lando was walking over, it was to throw somebody out of his club. Normally, when Lando walked over, he was visibly angry.

But not this time. People moved their legs out of his way so that Lando could get past them, get to the girl sat in the middle of his club. Nobody looked at him as he tapped the girl on her shoulder.

"Excuse me," he said and she turned towards him, looking up at him. Unlike everybody else in the club, she didn't look terrified of him. "Can I help you, Darling?" He asked, although he didn't quite pronounce the 'g'.

He was... wow. Dressed in a black suit with the top few buttons of his white shirt opened, his blue eyes staring into her own. His skin was naturally tanned and his hair in dark curls. He was gorgeous. Once she saw him, it was impossible to look away from him.

"I don't work here." Why the fuck did she just say that? She hadn't meant to say that, but she couldn't stop herself. If this man was after a lap dance, she couldn't help him out.

Lando chuckled as he shook his head. But it wasn't a proper chuckle, one designed to make her feel foolish. "I asked if I can help you. Are you okay?"

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "I'm just waiting to be taken home."

Again, that wasn't what Lando asked. But he didn't push on the matter. Instead, he offered her his hand. "Come with me to the back office and I'll call you a cab," he said.

She didn't know anything about this man. He didn't look old enough to be the club owner, but he certainly looked rich enough to own a club. There wasn't a lot to lose at this point, she realised as she took his hand and stood up. And, if he ended up being a creep, she could always just kick him where the sun doesn't shine and make a run for it.

In the back office of the club, he offered Y/N some water. She accepted the bottle (which had never been opened) and sat on the couch opposite his desk.

She watched as he called up a cab and gave the company the address. As soon as he had confirmation, he put the phone down and looked across the desk, looking at her. "Bad date?" He guessed.

"Bad date," she answered. He kept looking at her as he came around to lean against his desk. So, she continued speaking. "I wasn't going to call him again after tonight, and I think he knew that," she muttered, resting her back against the couch cushions.

"I don't think I've been on a date in years," he said and laughed to himself. But, again, it wasn't a genuine laugh.

That was when she properly looked at him. His eyes were bloodshot, with dark circles beneath them. His knuckled were bruised and bloody, as though he had been punching at walls. "Hey," she said as she put her bottle of water down. "Are you okay?"

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. Didn't get close. "Just life," he answered simply. But she kept looking at him, the way she moved her head towards him urging him on. "Do you really wanna hear my problems?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "I'm just a stranger in a strip club with nothing better to do but wait. Of course I want to hear your problems."

So, Lando told her. He told her all about the arranged marriage between his sister and another man, something set up by his parents. He told her that his step mother was dead and his father was close, and there was no way to get out of it. He didn't tell her who his family was, what they did, of course. The pretty stranger in his club didn't need to know that.

When he was finished, she let out a low whistle. "That was... heavy. Do you even know the guy?"

He let out a dry laugh. "Yeah," he answered. "Yeah, we know him." But he didn't elaborate.

Suddenly his phone rang on his desk. He twisted his body, picked it up and placed it against his ear. His conversation was quick, just a few words exchanged between both parties. "That was your cab," he said to her. "They're outside."

Picking up her bag and the bottle of water, she walked out of the back office. He had his hand on the small of her back as he gently pushed her through the club, towards the doors.

Just as he had said, the cab was outside. He pulled open the door for her, holding her bag as she climbed in. "Thank you," she said before he shut the door.

He smiled, but this one seemed a little more genuine. He didn't shut the car door right away, instead leaning forward. "If you ever find yourself in need of company late at night, this door is always open," he said as he pointed his thumb back towards the club.

She looked past him, looking at the club. "Will you be there?" She asked, looking at him through her lashes.

He said something quickly to the cab driver and reached inside of his suit jacket, reaching into the inside pocket. He quickly pulled out a small white card and placed it into her hand.

"Call this number first and I definitely will be," he said and went to shut the door.

But she stopped him. "Who am I asking for?"

"Lando."

The car drove off, driving away from the club. She kept looking back at the club, looking back at the handsome man shrouded in neon. He stayed standing outside of the club, watching the car, until it turned the corner and disappeared.

Soft music filled the car. Y/N kept her head against the window as she told the driver her address as he took her home. He didn't try to make conversation, which she was grateful for.

When he stopped outside of her home she climbed out of the car and fished around in her bag for some money. But the cab driver held up his hand. "It's already been taken care of, Ma'am," he said.

"Really?" Y/N asked. How could a strangers kindness stretch this far?

The cab driver nodded his head. "Mr Norris must really like you."

Mr Norris.

Who the fuck was Mr Norris?

Permanent Taglist: @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @minkyungseokie @formulaal @darleneslane @hiireadstuff

Series Taglist (OPEN): @millinorrizz @cinnamongirlontv @sainzluvrr @urfavnoirette

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

HERE, KITTY, KITTY (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Aizawa x Black!Catgirl!Reader

Synopsis: In which you find yourself in the weirdest predicament after you’re scooped up and taken to a cat cafe after you decide to take the streets to fight some crime, and you’re adopted by your very anti-social and hot coworker Aizawa aka Eraserhead.

Story Warnings: Smutty Smut, 18+ (MINORS GET AWAY), Swearing, Adult!Reader, Ear and Tail Stroking, Light Degradation, Spanking, Exhibitionism, Multiple Positions, Creampie, Unprotected PIV Sex, Facial, Scent Play, Collaring, Deepthroat, Cunnilingus, Begging, Edgeplay, Power Play, Rope Play/Shibari, Master Kink, Some Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Some Action

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: Back from my cruise with an update! I should be finished this fic soon cuz I have about three chapters left. Imma cry. Thank you again for the love! P.S. Never go on a cruise in the summertime. That boat was CROWDED AF -Jazz

Read on AO3 here!

Other Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Twenty-Four. Twenty-Five.

**********

TWENTY.

When you step into the bar one warm Wednesday night, you don’t feel like having a cocktail after midnight at all. 

But since Nemuri said she’d pay even though your favorite bar has happy hour after midnight during the weekends and you decided to take off on Thursday, you came.

What else do you have to do besides pretend like you have chores to do so you can avoid visiting Aizawa and those intrusive, negative thoughts that call you a liar, a bitch, and a horrible person? 

You dress accordingly, tossing on a simple sundress and some blocked heels. The bar is surprisingly crowded despite it being a weeknight and the activity is buzzing.

You find Nemuri sitting at the Cherrywood bar immediately, dressed in a low-cut purple blouse and cut-off shorts that you’re sure will get her a couple of numbers tonight. She smiles when you wordlessly come up and sit on the empty stool next to her. 

“It’s about time you showed up,” she greets, crossing her dainty legs over each other.

She already has her little cocktail with an umbrella in it. You’re not feeling too much like drinking tonight, so you order something with as little alcohol as possible.

“Just a cranberry seltzer for me,” you say to the bartender. He nods, moving to get your drink together. 

“Soooo what’s been going on?” Nemuri asks, not even letting the awkward silence stew for a moment. “I haven’t seen much of you since that night.” 

“You mean the night where I found out you and Mic have been talkin’ about me behind my back and made me feel like the worst person alive?” you mutter, tapping your nails against the cherrywood bar. “Yeah, it has been a while.” 

“A while” is actually an entire week. You haven’t spoken much to either Nemuri or Mic since the night they caught you sneaking out of your dorm to meet Aizawa on his mission. You’ve avoided them at work, opting to eat lunch elsewhere, and make sure you take your bathroom breaks during times you know they have classes.

You don’t like it, but you are too damn stubborn and afraid to be the first one to throw in the towel. To you, they still had no right to discuss you behind your back or make you feel worse than you already did. None of them know you were with Aizawa the night he was attacked by Toyoma.

In fact, nobody knows except for Aizawa. 

“Y/N,” Nemuri sighs, “you know we didn’t mean it like that, but we had to confront you! We were just worried about you and your relationship with Aizawa.” All you do is scoff to yourself, still hurt with disappointment and betrayal. 

But you don’t want to talk about that. You need to know about Aizawa, and Nemuri promised she’d give you the rundown on how things are going with him if you agreed to meet her tonight.

“How’s he doing?” you timidly ask as the bartender lowers your cocktail down. You feel like you should’ve ordered two, now realizing how difficult this conversation will be. 

“You know, you could always just visit him at the hospital to get your answers,” she says, raising an eyebrow at you. “According to Mic, he’s been asking about you.”

She slings an arm over the bar, giving you the softest, most gentle eyes you’ve ever seen on a person. And that hurts you to your core. You don’t need her gentleness or her sympathy. You don’t need any of this. It only makes you feel even more guilty than you already do. 

Other than Nemuri and Mic, you’ve been avoiding visiting Aizawa in the hospital for over a week as well. You sent flowers the day after Toyoma attacked him and was successfully arrested, so you’d hope that they were received well. Mic never told you if they were, but then again, you haven’t been speaking to him either.

So many times you’ve thought of just biting the bullet and visiting Aizawa after work on or on the weekends, but sometimes has always stopped you from making that move: guilt. 

That horrible, churning, gnawing feeling of guilt that has been keeping you up at night, constantly seeing Aizawa losing consciousness on the floor of his dorm and Toyota’s bloodied, slashed face.

You feel incredibly responsible for Toyoma’s attack that night. If you had focused and hadn’t lost focus, you wouldn’t have been vulnerable enough for Toyoma to have pushed you off the roof.

You would’ve gotten him. You could’ve knocked him out as soon as you sat next to him in the theatre. But instead, you got too excited and overzealous. You wanted to prove yourself to him, Aizawa, and yourself that you were a worthy fighter and instead, you nearly cost yourself and Aizawa your lives. 

You hope the apology you wrote on the flowers sufficed, but you know that’s stupidity and wishful thinking. Knowing Aizawa, he’d want you to say it to his face.

But to witness him all bruised up in a hospital bed and knowing it’s because of you, it’s far too much for you to take. So you’ve busied yourself with work, chores, and nights out at Night Claw, kicking ass and taking names. You desperately want to be out there now, strutting the streets in your boots and distracting yourself from your emotions, instead of sitting here, facing them.

“Nemuri, please,” you sigh, pinching your sinuses. 

Nemuri doesn’t push it, but she doesn’t look happy with your refusal either. “He’s doing great,” she unenthusiastically responds, but your heart leaps with joy regardless.

“So far, he’s been there for a week and has been showing signs of improvement. He’s moving with no trouble and the bruises have begun to heal. If he continues to show improvement, he should be out by next week with antibiotics for his ribcage and medicine to apply to his scalp.” 

Relief overcomes you, causing you to take your first sip of your cocktail. “That’s great,” you exhale. “That’s…really great.”

You stare at your drink while Nemuri stares at you, burning a hole in the side of your face. “Are you ready to tell me what happened now?” she asks. "Mic and the others still think you were in Aizawa’s dorm sleeping with him when the villain came barging through.” 

Other than Nemuri and Mic being left in the dark about that night, nobody knows at all what occurred or why you were in Aizawa’s room before his door was broken in. The running gag around campus is that you were sleeping with Aizawa that night, snuggled up in his room when Toyoma came sneaking in.

You take a sip of your cocktail for liquid courage, knowing you can’t keep your friend in the dark for too long. 

“That’s because I was,” you bluntly reply. 

Nemuri’s eyes widen at you. “N-Not like that!” you stammer, flushing under the bar lights. “I was in my cat form visiting him that night. I had gone with Aizawa as backup on his mission to catch Toyoma, but then he escaped. As soon as we got in the dorm, I could tell something was wrong…that’s when I saw him.”

You had felt it as soon as Aizawa walked in. It was way too quiet for one and for two, your fur started standing on end as if your body knew something was wrong before you did.

As soon as you sensed something coming from Aizawa’s dorm wall, you knew you had to warn him. Your cat-like behavior took over you and all you could do was hiss and yowl until the threat finally showed itself. 

“Aizawa locked Eri and me in her room,” you solemnly continue, "but I managed to squeeze underneath the door. When I saw Aizawa on the floor bleeding and Toyoma holding that knife…”

You press a hand to your forehead, trying to erase those horrible images. “I blacked out after that,” you confess, alluding to when you attacked Toyoma. “All I had in my mind was to save Shouta.”

The amount of fear and rage that poured inside of your tiny feline body when you saw Toyoma hovering over Aizawa is indescribable. At that moment, you wanted Toyoma to bleed. You wanted him gone. 

You’re just glad you managed to stop Toyoma at the knick of time. Your stubbornness and quick thinking of sneaking under Eri’s door to help possibly saved Aizawa and Eri.

“And that, you did,” Nemuri soothingly says, putting a hand on your knee. “When we saw Toyoma, he looked like he came straight out of a horror movie–blood dripping down his face; skin hanging off his cheeks…”

She shudders at the mental image. “You really fucked him up, girl. You should feel proud of yourself. You saved Shouta’s life that night.” 

Though you know it, deep down, you don’t feel it. There is still a part of you telling you that you could’ve done better; that you could’ve protected Aizawa from a simple scratch, but you didn’t. That only makes the guilt grow more until you’re sinking deeper into the deep, dark hole that your insecurities and self-doubts have built for you. 

Nemuri does her best to pull you out of it now. “Y/N, why don’t you just stop it and go see him?” she suggests, looking sick of your shit. “You’re punishing yourself when in reality, all you need to do is tell him the truth!” 

You take a sip of your cocktail for more liquid courage before slamming it down against the cherrywood bar. It isn’t loud enough to grab any unwanted attention, but it’s enough to startle Nemuri.

“You think I don’t know that?” you hiss. “I've been tryna get up the nerve to go see Shouta and tell him everything for over a week now, but as I told you before, this isn’t easy for me. I don't give a fuck about if he wants to see me anymore, but if I tell him everything, I’ll break his and Eri’s hearts. They don’t need that right now.” 

You turn away from your friend as tears of frustration begin to rise to the surface. Why can’t your life just be a Disney movie or something? Why does everything have to be so damn complicated?

“Is this what you brought me out here for?” you cooly ask, ignoring Nemuri’s pained expression. “To be the voice of reason? Well, it ain’t working. I’ll visit Shouta when I’m ready and I’ll tell him the truth when I’m sure he’s healed. He doesn’t need any more BS in his life right now.” 

Nemuri’s plump lips tighten into a thin line as you down the rest of your cocktail. You don’t look at her as you pull $10 out of your purse and place it on the bar.

“I’m gonna go,” you deadpan. “Thanks for the drink.” You then turn and storm away from your seat, never stopping despite the angel on your shoulder screaming at you to go back. 

“Y/N, wait!” Nemuri calls but you don't turn around.

You won’t be swayed in your decision or argued against. You don’t care what she or anyone thinks. You understand what is right, but you refuse to do it right now while Aizawa is recovering from his injuries and the trauma he faced that night. You will tell him everything when the time is right. 

‘I promise,’ you think as you venture into the warm night, but even that sounds like a lie.

Even to yourself. 

[heavencasteel420]

WIP Whursday

From Drive All Night:

“Jonathan,” she interrupted, and he fell silent. She put down the compact and placed her hands on his heaving shoulders. “It’s very gratifying to hear you say that I was right. You know how much I enjoy that.” 

From Tonight, Tonight, the Highway's Bright (from Jonathan's essay):

Kali is pretty interesting. She has pink hair—nobody really dyed their hair where I grew up, except for ladies who were going gray—and we like a lot of the same music. She’s from England and she has an accent. She doesn’t have family around and honestly I don’t know if she really cares about Thanksgiving, even though she’s lived in America for a while. I don’t know if I really care about Thanksgiving, as a concept. I’m not that patriotic. I watched Reagan win the election earlier this month and it sort of made me want to puke. All those flags and all that chanting. But I do care about eating food with people that I like, and I like Kali. She came over to my place on Thursday night and we ate leftover lasagna and a blackberry cobbler that my friend gave me. And on Friday she invited me over to her place and she made this dish with chickpeas. Have you ever had chickpeas? I’d never tried them before, but I like them because they have these little jackets that you can take off with your tongue. Kali made them like this: she cooked an onion in butter in a saucepan, and then she put in the chickpeas and some spices (salt, black pepper, red pepper, cumin, and coriander) and mixed it all together. She also had yogurt with cucumbers and dill in it.

From Tomorrow's a Long Way Off:

If her parents had both been asleep or still at the Wheelers’ place, Robin would have managed. A good night’s rest would have made all the difference. If her mom had met her at the door with an interrogation or an exasperated lecture, she would have been ready to fight. Instead, she was greeted with the sight of her dad, snoring loudly on the couch. The creaking of the front door must have woken him, though, because he immediately started awake and smiled sleepily at her. She didn’t see her mom anywhere.

From The Sin-Eater's Prom Date:

“You’re right,” she told Mr. Simmons, forcing a smile. Some things, you didn’t discuss. “I was being too dramatic.” “Comes with the territory of working with teenagers,” Mr. Simmons said graciously. He got up and opened the door for her, even though she could have gotten it herself. Maybe, she thought uncharitably, he liked making girls squeeze past him. “Remember, Mrs. Dewitt’s class, sixth period. Ah, Jonathan, there you are.” His voice turned big and hearty on the last sentence, as though he were talking to a person who was either sick or not too bright. When Chrissy saw his audience, she understood. Jonathan Byers was sitting in one of the vinyl chairs, elbows on his knees and headphones clamped over his ears. His left foot, shod in a scuffed, once-white sneaker, tapped out a frantic rhythm on the linoleum. 

[muddyorbsblr]

what’s today again?

Ahhh I’ve gone and done it. I wrote a Loki fic. This is my first so please go easy on me. I even went and created my own lil divider because…I mean the tools were there so why not? lol

Inspired by this post

Summary: Thor attempts to wake you up after he finds you asleep on your desk before your boss, Tony Stark, finds you and assumes you’ve been sleeping on the job. You, however, believe that it’s Saturday and nobody will be coming to check whether you’re even in your office. When you tell Thor this, he calls on his brother for help to wake you up.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: mild cursing, Steve and Tony and Bucky giving annoying older brother vibes, mild angst (?) [let me know if i missed anything!]

"Lady Y/N," you heard a muffled voice calling you to you, gently shaking your shoulder to wake you. "Did you sleep in this state, Lady Y/N?" 

"Mmph," you grumbled. You could barely register the bright glare of sunlight piercing through your closed eyelids. Not harsh enough to sting, but bright enough to know that the day has just begun. You could hear the voice calling to you again, and your waking sleep-addled brain began to recognize that low reverberating grumbling voice as Thor's. What on Earth was he doing waking you up this early on a Saturday?

"Lady Y/N, I suggest you right yourself quickly before Stark comes down here finding you sleeping on your desk. Part of me suspects he won't have care for your late hours, only your current state of rest." 

"Dammit, Thor," you mumbled. "It's Saturday, let me rest." You heard him call to someone, as if he was asking for them to back him up.

"Y/N, darling." You felt your spine stiffen at the voice that greeted you. Fuck's sake, Thor, why would you call your brother? you thought to yourself. "Stark will have your pretty little head on a spike if he catches you dozing on your desk. Wake up, little mortal." 

"Brother, she believes it's Saturday."

"Norns," he groaned, the resonance of his voice still finding a way to affect you and kick your heart into a flutter despite your drowsy state. "Y/N, it's Thursday." 

"My day," Thor quipped. 

"That retort got old a thousand years ago, brother," Loki groaned. "Y/N, wake up darling." Your brain began to wake just enough to recognize that his presence was looming just behind you.

"Laufeyson, you're hot, but you're not disrupt my weekend hot." Unfortunately your brain hadn't quite woken up enough to make sure your mouth had a filter quite yet. "Now shush that pretty mouth of yours with the pretty voice and let me sleep."

You could feel him shuffling closer to you, until his head rested lightly against your shoulder, with that pretty mouth right next to your ear. "It's not quite the weekend yet, darling, now wake up." 

"Brother, Stark's on his way. She will lose her station with him if he finds her as such."

"Alright, that's it." You felt an arm wrap around your waist and hoist you up to your feet. "Up you go, little mortal."

That woke you up enough for your eyes to shoot open like someone had shot cold water right down your back. You tried to stare daggers at whoever dared wake you up so abruptly, but when your eyes met the piercing blue ones of the god towering over you with his arm still wrapped securely around you, your resolve faltered.

"What gives?" you managed to choke out. 

"Is that any way to thank the one who saved you from being, what is it you Midgardians call it again? Fired?" Your eyes widened at his words. "Ah, now I finally have your attention, sweet Y/N." You always have my attention, you impossibly attractive annoying man--god.

"Well if this ain't a party," Tony's voice boomed through your office. "Y/N, you're here early." Then he eyed your current predicament; Loki hadn't released you from his hold yet. "Unless you never left…?" He swayed a pointed figure between you and the god, and the realization of what he was implying dawned on you, making you squirm in the god's arm.

"No! God no. I know better than that, Tony, you know this." They didn't, actually. The entire team, with the exception of the Asgardian gods, all knew about the burning screaming crush you had on the god of mischief. And they took every opportunity to tease you about it when the brothers weren't around to hear. You tried to glare at said god. "Will you let me go, please?" 

"Only because you asked nicely, my dear." He then relinquished you from his embrace and you did everything in your power not to pout or react in any way at the loss of contact between you two. Only in the safety of your thoughts would you ever admit that despite the circumstances, you would never complain to waking up the way you did just moments ago: in his arms. Well, arm. But still. With him smiling (smirking, really) down at you. In fact you'd give anything to wake  up like that again. Preferably in a bed, with less clothing (like none at all), after a night of--

Stop it, Y/N, you scolded yourself. You cracked your neck and turned to face Tony. "I stayed the night here in my office trying to crack that drive you managed to swipe from the HYDRA camp on your last mission." You looked over his shoulder to see a tall muscular blond enter your office. "Hey, Cap." 

"Y/N, pardon my language but you look like crap." You shot him a glare that held a bit more conviction. "Sorry I'm only speaking as a concerned friend, you never know who might run into you looking the way you do." He shifted his eyes not so subtly towards the dark-haired god, making you glare at him some more. "But really, what happened? Did you sleep okay?" 

"I happen to think she looked rather ethereal waking up," Loki answered with a smirk, making you shift your death stare his way, to which he only answered with a wink in your direction. "Now I do believe you need to get back to your duties, darling. I'll leave you be. Come, brother." 

And just when you thought you were finally free of the chaos he was wreaking on your ever beating heart, he turned around as he  reached the door to say, "And I'll be more than glad to remind you what day of the week it is should you ever need it again, my darling mortal." Right before closing the door.

A few moments of silence passed between you, Tony, and Steve, with almost matching teasing looks painted on their faces. You broke the deafening quiet. "Not. A fucking. Word." 

"Lang--" You glared at the Captain, and he pursed his lips. 

"So back to the drive," you continued, trying your hardest to forget about the last few minutes and go about your day.

The next few days went without incident. Mostly because you made sure to not fall asleep at your desk no matter how late you stayed in your office, and you avoided any area frequented by the Avengers such as the common room, the kitchen, the gym, and in the case of the god you were actually actively trying to avoid, the library.

And everything was going fine. Until you ran into Bucky wearing a shirt that said "It's Friday".

"Wait, hold on, what?" you blurted out, shooting your hand up to stop him, too. 

"Yes, dollface?" he teased. He was always a big flirt with you, but both of you were on the same page. It was  harmless banter and when neither of you were in a mood, you two actually got along quite well.

"Is it really?" You eyed his shirt and then looked back at him. 

"Yeah. Happy weekend," he answered, setting your hand down and walking away. 

"Strange," you mumbled to yourself. "Could've sworn it's Tuesday."

"What are you murmuring to yourself, Lady Y/N?" You heard Thor boom. You mentally slapped yourself as you realized you'd walked in a daze and found yourself in the path to the training area. "If it's a grocery list for those delicious treats you made a few weeks back, I would gladly accompany you to the store to retrieve them." 

"Thor you're never going with me to the store again. Last time you did, I ended up with a second cart full of boxes of Pop Tarts. And no it's not that. I just ran into Bucky and he said the weirdest thing." 

"Tell me."

"He said it was Friday. I could've sworn the week just started yesterday…" 

"Norns, not again," you heard a voice grumble before your feet left the ground and you were being walked back into the direction of your office. "It's Tuesday, darling Y/N. Don't let Barnes tell you otherwise." 

"Dammit Loki put me down I'm perfectly capable of walking with my own damn legs." He only heeded your words when you were back in your office. You huffed, looking up at him. "And how do I know you're not the one lying to me? Isn't that kind of in your title?"

He grasped your chin lightly with his thumb and forefinger, before leaning down to whisper in your ear, "I may be the God of Lies, but I've only ever spoken the truth with you. Every word, my precious little mortal." You felt him press the lightest of kisses against your temple before walking away abruptly, you had to ask yourself if you'd imagined the action. It was only when he was out of your line of sight that you noticed the metal-armed super soldier at the end of the hall, snacking on a plum with a teasing smirk on his face.

You took a moment to compose yourself before pointing at him, and his offending shirt, and mouthing, "I'm burning that." 

The rest of the week went by relatively quiet, considering the people you worked around, and you were thrilled to be away from the tower for the duration of the weekend. Not once did Loki's words of "I've only ever spoken the truth with you. Every word." leave your mind. What did he mean by that exactly? 

Not even two days of binge-watching your favorite Netflix series and stuffing your face with your favorites from that Italian place across the street from you took your mind off of his words. And your dreams? Don't even start. Your dreams were an endless replay of the day you woke up in his arm. How he held you. How he kept you pressed to his side until you asked him to back away. How his words before he left almost seemed…flirtatious? 

Nah. It couldn't be. He couldn't possibly be. You were mortal, and the god thought himself above everyone else. And while you wouldn't skip a beat and make a quip about being more than willing to be beneath him, there wasn't any way on this or any of those nine realms they always talked about, in this or any other lifetime, that he would ever even consider being with you. He belonged with someone who could be confused as a deity with their beauty, and you…were definitely not that person. Not even in your wildest, most far-fetched dreams.

You shook yourself out of your lamenting as you walked towards your office on Monday morning, your footsteps slowing as you heard the unmistakable voices of the Asgardian brothers coming from inside your work area once again. You knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but they were the ones in your space, so it was fair play. Right?

"Why are you concerned for this mortal's attendance, brother? Do you wish to court her? Haven't you already enough Midgardian women fawning over your very presence, why need you add her to your collection?" you heard the voice you could only compare to silk reverberate through your office walls. He sounded annoyed, though you couldn't determine if it was towards his brother or…something else. Someone else? You, maybe?

"Because she's my friend, and as sharp and brilliant as her mind might be, she tends to lose herself in her works and passions, Loki. She might not even realize that it's Monday today." Mortification set in as you focused on the last bit of Thor's statement. They must think you a special kind of stupid; you sure did. You couldn't even be quick enough to check your phone or your computer for a confirmation on what day of the week it was; it was a wonder why Stark kept you employed, let alone trusted you to handle half the intelligence that he would send your way.

"I will check her residence." The dark-haired god's words held a conviction that dared anybody to challenge him. "I'll make sure she's here. And safe. You need not accompany me, brother." 

"No. I've explained the source of my concern. Lady Y/N is my friend. I do not wish to court her, I only wish to make sure that my friend keeps her station, so that someone that I think the world of and only wish to see happy would be able to bask in her presence." 

"What are you on about, you oaf?" 

"Why are you here to check on Lady Y/N, Loki? You and her are not friends, you've barely spoken two words to her that don't involve you picking her up like what these mortals call a 'rag doll', and whenever she crosses your path you look as if you're boiling in your own flesh. So let me ask you your own question, brother. Why are you concerned for this mortal's attendance?"

"I like her!" His voice was so loud it echoed even in the hall outside your office, freezing you in place. "I think her brilliant, and sharp, yes. But I also think her to be radiant. Beautiful. Precious. I see her so at ease with you and the captain and even Barnes, and all I can think of is what I could possibly do so that she could be like that with me. To hear her laugh at something that I uttered for once instead of your absurdities. To have her embrace me as she does all of you. To--"

"You like me?" How you found the stability to walk the remaining steps to your door, you'd never know, but here you were, face to face with the brother gods, one with the happiest goofiest grin on his face, and the other with wide eyes, lacking in his usual confidence and composure. You walked towards him, ignoring the thundering of your heart in your chest, until he was but a foot away from you. "You told me you've only ever spoken the truth with me. Tell me the truth now. Do you?" 

"I do," he breathed out. 

"Good," you whispered, finally letting yourself break out into a grin, letting your poorly kept poker face drop. "Because I like you, too."

"I knew it," you heard Thor exclaim, just as you heard his footsteps moving towards your door. "I'll leave you two be. Brother. Lady Y/N."  

You heard your door close behind you but you couldn't be bothered to check. The only thing going through your mind was: This is a dream. Nobody ever wake me up.

"My darling Y/N," he started, stepping closer to you and encircling your waist lightly with his arms. "Does this mean that I may court you?" 

Unable to hold yourself back, you burst into a fit of giggles and threw your arms around him, pulling him into an embrace. "Yes. Absolutely." 

When you pulled away, he tucked his hand under your chin and leaned in close. "Mine," he whispered before pressing his lips to yours.

Taglist: @lokisgoodgirl​ @lokischambermaid​

[grampstaxidermy87]

Behind locked doors

Requester: @badasseddy

Request: Hello there! I saw you taking requests and I neeeeeeed some more Sheriff Hassan in my life.can you write something with a fem!reader, when she's being harassed regularly (house broken into, stolen items and stuff, weird messages left) and nobody believes her. Hassan doesn't even know about this before overhearing the reader confront someone suspicious. So he tries to help the reader, maybe the sheriff spends a night at the reader's place to look out or something. It can be a little bit smutty, kinda angsty, and I would die to have Hassan in action, cathing the bad guy, saving the day.Thank you very much, I hope this gives you an idea.

An: Hello love sorry this took so long but thank you for the request! I agree there's not enough love for this hunk of a man! Hassan is legit my favorite character and I am in love with Rahul.Anyways I hope you enjoy darlin!

Warning:18+,slightSmut, swearing,stalking, break-ins, death, blood,stabbing.

It was funny really.

How the very second you show signs that your life isn’t perfect...that you’re different...everyone turns their backs on you. Just when you need them most, they look at you like you’re the devil coming to corrupt their ‘pure’ souls.

How fucking hypocritical.

Letting out an irritated sigh I tossed the broken lock into the metal can by my front gate, putting the lid back on I tugged my sweater closer when I felt another chill from the wind. The night was cold and windy as the island prepared for a small storm that would be passing by later tonight.

Normally I enjoyed a night of listening to the rain, sitting on my covered porch with a good book and coffee and just listen to it fall. It was soothing to me…but now I dreaded the thought of being alone at night for longer than a minute or two.

“Well, Howdy neighbor!” I jumped at the sudden intrusion to my thoughts, whipping around to see a dreadfully familiar face.

“G-Good evening, Wilbur.” I greeted back to the towering figure who leaned against the fence that separated us. Something I was grateful for.

Wilbur Murphy was my next-door neighbor, having moved into the old Mulberry’s house a month ago after they moved back to mainland to be closer to their daughter who just gave birth to their first grandchild.

I had been close to the elderly couple, being the last two houses on the street, so it saddened me to see them go. I had hoped to have the same neighborly relationship with the person who moved into their home, expecting them to be just as lovely as the Mulberry’s.

Instead what I got was a man who gave me the chills just by thinking about him, I knew it was wrong of me to start accusing the man of things without hard evidence.

But the signs all pointed to him! Ever since Wilbur moved in next door, I had received creepy letters phrased like a husband writing love notes to his wife, not to mention the few times I had even caught him snooping around my garbage when he thought I wasn’t home.

So when I began to see signs that someone was breaking into my home at night and messing with things why wouldn’t I assume it was him, but the worst part of it all was that no matter who I told everyone looked at me the same way.

Like I was crazy..

“That’s the fifth lock this week and it isn’t even Thursday! Those kids still messing with you?” The ‘friendly’ man inquired with a sickeningly sweet smile, and it took everything in me to hold down the bile that rose in my throat.

A small uncomfortable smile graced my lips as I forced out a laugh, "Ah Yea, you know those kids love their little pranks.” He grinned wider and nodded, "You know I could come keep you company tonight, make sure they don’t mess with you again tonight. It really isn’t good for a young woman like you to be all by herself in a big house like that.”

My stomach twisted at his offer, but before I even got the chance to turn him down, I heard the familiar click of my gate moving. “Evening Mr. Murphy. (Y/n).” Relief flooded my heart as I looked over to see the sheriff leaning against the old metal. His eyes were suspicious as they eyed the Creepy man but when they fell onto me, they turned soft and tender.

It was hard to ignore how much it affected me, leaving a pleasantly tingly feeling throughout my body and I knew there was probably a blush rising on my face.

There were only three people on the entire Island who knew of my crush on the island sheriff, My best friends Sarah and Erin…. And the sheriff's own son, Ali.

How the teen figured it out still puzzled me to this day, He had told me that he knew during one of our weekly piano sessions. The kid was smart, I’d give him that.

“Sheriff, what can I do for you?” Wilbur asked with barely hidden spite in his voice, clearly annoyed by the interruption.

Hassan saw right through it though, keeping a calm and easy facade but I could see the small quirk of amusement on the corner of his lip that drove me wild.

“Just doing my nightly rounds before the storm hits, Miss (L/n) here asked me earlier to help her prep.” He shot me a wink when he saw the confusion on my face, understanding donned on me and I quickly schooled my expression before Wilbur looked back at me.

“Oh, there’s no need to both such a busy man. Don’t worry about it sheriff, I can help (Y/n).” He just wouldn’t take the hint would he.

Hassan was unphazed however, shaking his head and waving the man off. “It's fine Mr. Murphy, she’s my last stop anyways. Plus, what kind of man would I be if I went back on my promises.”

Wilbur was getting frustrated, that much was certain as he realized Hassan would not be deterred no matter how hard he tried.

“I see...I suppose you’re right. Well, if you find yourself needing more capable assistance (Y/n),you know where to find me.” He spit giving Hassan a dirty look before turning and storming off back into his house.

It suddenly was easier to breath as I placed a hand on my chest, Looking over gratefully to my handsome hero I saw him closing the gate and walking over to my side.

“Is he always that...pleasant?” Hassan asked with a quirk of his split brow. Oh, how I’d love to kiss it...

“Sadly…that isn’t even the worst of it. Usually he’s much more persistent.” Concern filled those entrancing dark eyes of his as his brows furrowed together.

“I want an explanation. Now!” I looked down in shame at his scolding gaze.

Taking a deep breath, I braced myself before telling him everything, the broken locks, the missing items, the notes…everything.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me this (Y/n)?! (Y/n) the badge isn’t just for show, and even without it I am still your friend.” His expression was one of hurt, it was hard to look into his eyes...

“You should be able to tell me shit like this! Do you know how much I care about you?! I don’t know what I’d do with myself if something happened to you and I could have prevented it!” My eyes were wide when he finished, his breathing heavy as his worry crashed into my heart in waves. I hadn’t expected him to care so much..

“Hassan...” he took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, "I’m sorry..It’s just..You were the first one to welcome Ali and me onto Crockett with open arms and not a hint of prejudice, (Y/n) you have been there for me through every bad day. Hell, you even protected my son against Beverly when she was being her usual racist ass self! Yea he told me all about that, which thank you...”

A heavy blush was visible on my face at his praise, I had told Ali not to tell his father because I didn’t want him to possibly get in a fight with the devilish woman and risk getting in trouble.

“P-Please don’t thank me, Ali is a sweet kid and didn’t deserve the shit she spewed out of that unholy mouth of hers.” I gulped looking anywhere but him so I didn’t have to risk becoming more of a flustered mess.

“What I’m getting at is that Ali loves you (Y/n)…and he’s not the only one.” The last part was spoken as a whisper. His deep voice going so soft that I had almost missed it.

Almost.

My heart was soaring, I was on cloud 9, The very man who has plagued my every thought since he moved onto this horrible island just admitted that he loved me.

Say something (Y/n)! Anything!

Floundering like a fish trying to come up with some totally intelligent way to voice my own feelings I watched as misunderstanding flooded those dark eyes of his.

“You don’t have to return my feelings, I’m sorry for just tossing this on you.” He began to rethink everything and close in on himself but right as he went to back away, I collected myself. Quicker than he could react I grabbed the collar of his Jean jacket and pulled him closer.

Crashing our lips together he wasted no time in sliding his arm around my waist and tangling a strong hand in my hair, his mustache tickled my nose from how hard we were pressed together. I could care less, I have waited for this moment for too long to let anything stand in my way now that I knew he felt the same.

We pulled away for air, the taller man leaning his forehead against mine as an awed expression covered his face, his eyes shut in pure bliss. “Better than I thought it would be...” I giggled softly at his mumbled words.

“I’ve wanted to do that since the moment I met you.” His eyes opened and a dopey grin pulled at his lips, "Looks like I have a lot of lost time to make up for then, Huh?” Matching his excitement, I gasped as he lifted me up, my legs wrapping around his waist while holding onto his shoulders.

Our laughter filled the air as he carried me inside…stuck in our own little world we missed the curtains ripping shut next door.

—————

Hassan winced as he shoulder-checked the doorway, but he didn’t dare to drop me as he kicked the door closed and set me down on the kitchen counter.

Standing between my legs he focused solely on my lips that were meshed against his as his hands squeezed my hips making me gasp into his mouth, with my lips parting it gave him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue in to taste me.

"Fuck, you're intoxicating..." He groaned when he pulled away and moved down to my bare neck, kissing and nibling at my sensitive skin.

"H-Hassan, please...touch me..." His breath hitched in his throat at my whine, feeling his pants tighten as I begged for him to relieve the pressure twisting away in my gut.

"Don't worry baby, When I'm done with you, you're gonna be screaming my name." He said with that devilish smirk that drove me crazy. His hands sunk down to push my skirt up until it pooled on my hips.His mustache tickled as he kissed the tender flesh of my neck,all while I watched his every move with eager anticipation. A shiver rolled up my spine when the cold air hit my clothed privates. "Look at you, already so wet for me...shit baby..."

He pulled away slightly and licked his lips as he lightly grazed his thumb over the growing wet patch on my silk panties, "Don't tease!" I whimpered shifting on the counter in an attempt to press harder on his hand.

Amused by my pitiful effort he pulled his hand away,smirking when I whined at the loss of contact. “As much as I want to fuck you into the counter right now,let me make sure everything is safe first.” The look on my face was simply comical as he stepped away. “You’re a jerk!” I huffed feeling unsatisfied as I fixed my skirt and slipped off the counter.

His chuckle filled my ears as I pushed past him,only to gasp when a strong grasp caught my waist and pulled me into a warm body. His breath tickled my ear as he leaned into me,his hands gripping the meat of my hips to the point where I knew I’d have bruises by morning…good.

“You love it,besides I plan on making sure you can’t walk tomorrow.” A whimper built in my throat by the promise in his words,”But I have a piano lesson with-“ my voice quit on me when I felt his hot tongue on the shell of my ear,making my knees grow weak. Luckily his grip on my was the only thing keeping me stable.

“I think his father will understand,though that just means you’ll have to make it up to me..and I’ve already got plenty of ideas.” His husky tone vibrated in my mind,leaving me with nothing but the thought of him and what he was going to do to me.

“Hassan..” turning my face towards his I stared at his lips as he did the same to mine. Sharing our breath..I didn’t know who made the first move but I was thankful as we hungrily devoured each other,he turned my body and hugged me close as his hands knotted in my hair.

I pulled away enough to kiss along his jaw as I fought with the buttons of his work shirt,”Hah..baby you’re so fucking-“ a sudden thump from the second floor caused us to both freeze.

His grip tightened as he stared at the ceiling,whispering lowly to me when he noticed my hands shaking. “I’m guessing you don’t have a cat?” He clenched his jaw when he saw me shake my head out of the corner of his eye.

“Grab a knife and hide,wait for me to come get you.” Before I could argue he pulled away and began making his way to the hall that led to my stairway.

Reluctant to leave him alone I pulled a knife from the block on the counter and quickly followed him.

He sighed when he saw me,shaking his head he knew it was a long shot to get me to stay behind. “Stay behind me and don’t leave my sight.” He whispered and I nodded in understanding.

He took my hand and kept me close as he quietly trekked up the steep staircase,when we made it to the second floor I tensed when I saw that at the end of the hall the window had been opened and the picture frame on the wall next to it had fallen to the floor.

“Stay here,they might still be in the house.” I nodded and held the knife in both hands in front of me as I watched him slowly approach the window,stopping only to grab an empty vase from a drawer.

He glanced through the window to check for any signs of possible intruders before he turned towards me to say something…only for a loud thump to stop him. His head snapped to the door next to him that I knew led to my guest room, he glanced at me for a second to motion for me to be quiet as he shifted the vase in his grasp before slowly grasping and turning the handle.

I inched closer as he pushed the door open, looking around the dark room before letting out a sigh,”Nothi-“ I screamed when a blur tackled him to the ground,The vase shattered beside his head from the sheer force of his fall.

“Hassan!” I screamed when I realized he had been knocked out before looking towards his attacker with fear.

I should have known…

“Hello neighbor.” Wilbur Murphy leered at me with a terrifying grin.

“This whole time..it was you..” He chuckled darkly,finding the tremble in my voice adorable. He easily lifted himself off of Hassan before slowly approaching me.

“I’m surprised you hadn’t realized sooner darling,all those gifts and love notes. But it’s alright,I’m just glad I don’t have to sneak around and hide my love for you anymore!” Tears filled my eyes as I began backing away,holding the knife higher with trembling hands.

“S-Stay away from me!” His smile fell a bit,”Now darling I know you’re scared,But think of it this way:I know everything about you. You’re deepest darkest secrets all the way to the most intimate parts of you,I know you better than you know yourself!” He laughed holding his arms out as if expecting me to run into them.

I’d rather die.

“You’re a monster…you made me think I was going crazy…everyone thought I was crazy..” he had the audacity to not even look ashamed,in fact he looked proud of himself.

“Amazing isn’t it,all I had to do was flash a smile at those whores and they were ready to believe whatever I told them.” He hummed dropping his hands and giving me a once-over as he grew closer.

“You always were different,never one to fall for my flirty quips and smiles..it’s what attracted me first.That..Independence that I wanted to ruin..to make you reliant on me and only me was my biggest wish.” I froze when I felt the edge of the steps on my heel,I was trapped.

And he knew it.

“Don’t fight me (Y/n)…come with me and I will worship you,as you deserve.” He stopped once the tip of the knife pressed against his chest,not pressing hard enough to slice the skin but enough to show he wasn’t afraid of it.

I flinched when his hand came up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear,”I’ll kill him if you say no.” It made me sick to my stomach,how he could say such a horrible thing with that charming smile.

“I won’t let you hurt him.” His smile turn to a stoic expression,his eyes showing just how deadly he was.

“You don’t have a cho-“ motion behind him caught my attention,tossing the knife behind me I quickly threw myself at the wall and out of the way.

Wilbur yelled out in shock as a strong force body slammed him from behind,causing him to fall face first down the steps.

“Hassan!” I yelled grabbing the back of his shirt and yanking him back before he could fall to,we both tumbled back just as Wilbur reached the bottom with a loud thud.

“Shit…Are you okay?” He shifted onto his side to look me over for any signs of injury.

Shaking my head I let out a haggard breath,”No…All this time and he was right next door..” he frowned and sat up,carefully lifting me into his arms and hugging me close. “It’s over..He can’t hurt you now.” Tears cascaded down my cheeks as I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face into his neck,He comfortingly rubbed my back,cooing loving words into my ear as he looked down the staircase.

Wilbur Murphy laid unmoving at the bottom,his limbs twisted in disgusting ways a the kitchen knife was buried deep in his back.

Hassan would make sure no one ever hurt the ones he loved ever again.

[the-bau-quinjet]

My Only Girl

Summary: request! Reader has to decide between keeping her secret and saving the man she loves. In the end, it's not a hard choice.

Warnings: violence/blood

Word count: 3370

a/n: I really enjoyed writing this one! I put a screen shot of the request at the end just because I didn’t want to give away the whole story :)

You never would have guessed that today would change everything. It started the same as any other Thursday. 

You were seated at your desk right outside of Tony’s main office working on his schedule for two weeks from now. Your music was playing softly through your earbuds causing you to bob your head as you read email after email. 

Suddenly, a Starbucks cup appeared in front of your face, a metal hand wrapped around the cup. 

You swiftly pulled the earbuds from your ears, turning in your chair to greet Bucky with a hug. 

“Hi.” You whispered into his chest during your hug. “You are truly a gift.” You smiled, taking the cup with your go to order. You press a quick kiss to his lips only to be pulled back in for a deeper kiss by Bucky. 

“Y/N, do you know when my next press conference is?” Tony asked, walking out of his office while still looking down at his tablet. 

Bucky let you pull back from him just far enough to answer Tony. “Next Thursday. You wanted to announce the new post-mission protocol for ‘Damage Control’.” You chuckled at the title, knowing Pepper was still trying to talk him into changing it. 

“Right! Thank you.” He finally looks up, taking in the sight of you in Bucky’s arms. “Barnes! Let her work.” He nearly whined, playing up the annoyance. 

“I will.” Tony leveled him with a pointed glare, looking between you and your computer. “I will! I just wanted to say good morning to my best girl.”

You scrunched your nose at the term of endearment, leaning farther back from Bucky to look in his eyes.

“You don’t like being my best girl?” He sounded genuinely concerned, earning a small chuckle from you. 

“I like being your only girl. Best implies that there are others, and though I would love to be the best of them, I don’t want there to be others.” You nodded your head resolutely, taking on a serious expression. 

“Please, you’ve had this man wrapped around your finger from the second he saw you.” Tony scoffed. 

“He’s right, doll. And you are my only girl. I love you.” Bucky pressed a quick kiss to your lips, letting you remove yourself from his arms to continue working. 

“I love you too. See you for lunch?” He nodded as he walked backwards to the elevator, keeping his eyes on yours until the doors closed.

“Wrapped around your finger, I swear.” Tony laughed when you glared at him, retreating back into his office to make some phone calls. 

-

Sometimes it’s really easy to pinpoint the exact moment everything went to shit. This was one of those times. 

22 minutes before you were due to meet Bucky for lunch, the red emergency lights started flashing with an accompanying alarm blaring in your ears. 

Friday announced “The compound is under attack, enacting lockdown protocol.”

“Shit.” Lockdown meant you needed to use specific codes to get into or out of any room. It definitely makes your life harder. 

Tony left to meet Pepper 15 minutes ago, so to your knowledge you were the only one on this floor. 

Glancing up and down the hall to double check, you swiftly enter Tony’s office, pulling up the security footage to see who you’re dealing with. Three different sides of the compound are surrounded by mercenaries clad in black fighting gear. 

You watch the screens, contemplating the best course of action to subtly help when one of the mercenaries pulls out a missile launcher. He aims it quickly, firing into the side of the building. 

You feel the walls shake as you watch part of the wall collapse, giving them an opening to enter the compound through. 

“Shit.” You run from Tony’s office, heading for the action without another thought even though this is definitely the biggest problem you’ve ever helped them with. 

You phase through the walls, doing your best to make sure nobody will see you when you come out on the other side of the wall. If all goes well, you’ll be back at your desk before anyone even notices you were gone. 

Your powers are a secret, even from the team. The powers that be, meaning your boss, don’t want the Avengers knowing they have an Angel on their side. It took you enough negotiating to get yourself assigned to this “project”, you were willing to do it without telling anyone that you are a angel. 

You basically had to beg your boss to let the Avengers be the people you watched over. Typically, angels are assigned to help those who can’t help themselves. Your logic for this assignment was that keeping the Avengers safe would, in turn, protect millions of other people. 

The one stipulation you faced when finally being assigned the the Avengers, was that you couldn’t tell them what you are.

At first, You had no problem keeping the secret. Being Tony’s assistant hardly meant spending ample time with everyone. You didn’t need to befriend them to keep them safe. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. 

Overtime, Tony broke down your walls. He convinced you to go to one of his galas, ultimately starting your demise. One look at Bucky had your heart soaring. Not telling him the truth has been eating away at you ever since he first asked you to get dinner with him. 

You pushed your guilt to the back of your mind, refocusing on getting closer to the attackers so you could figure out what to do. 

Typically, you use your powers to slightly change the path of bullets or hold off a bomb for a few extra seconds. It gives the team enough time to escape, not necessary unscathed, but with recoverable injuries. Plus, it keeps your powers hidden. 

It’s hard enough to hack into the video feed from various super suits without alerting anyone, you were definitely concerned about how to keep your powers hidden while using them so close to everyone. 

You skid to a stop just around the corner, listening as two of the mercenaries instruct the others. 

“Split up. You know who we’re looking for. If you find him, report in. First priority is getting out of here with him alive. All else fails, kill him.”

Immediately, you’re mind jumped to Bucky. Of course, Hydra scrum could be looking for anyone to use as a weapon, but Bucky made the most sense. When would they finally realize they can’t control him anymore?

You used your powers to confuse the men, making it look like whatever blueprints they studied were outdated. It would hopefully give everyone else enough time to get here and fight them off. 

You hid in a closet when you heard people approaching from behind you. 

“Sam, find Wanda and get to the east side. Nat and I will handle these guys.” 

You relaxed at the sound of Steve’s voice, waiting for the group to disperse before sliding out of the closet.

You ran back through the compound, heading for the lab. It was the closest place for you to retreat to in order to look through the security cameras again. 

“Friday, give me a rundown of what’s happening please.” You looked between the screens, intently listening to the AI’s voice. 

“The east side is being secured by Ms. Maximoff and Mr. Wilson. Based on projected outcomes, they will have everything under control in 7 minutes. Captain Rogers and Ms. Romanoff are fighting on the south side, near the blast sight. They will have the area secure in 6 minutes.”

You nodded, following along as you looked between the cameras. 

“The west side is secure. Mr. Stark and Mr. Barton have cleared the area and are holding off any additional attacks.”

“Good. Where’s Bucky?” You looked between the cameras, but couldn’t find him. 

“Sergeant Barnes is on the roof, engaged in hand to hand.”

“What the hell is he doing on the roof?” You panicked, clicking between camera angles until you could see him. 

There were ten Hydra agents on the roof, surrounding Bucky as he did his best to fight them off. 

“How did he get singled out so fast?” You mumbled to yourself, trying to think of a plan. They had Bucky backed up to the edge of the roof, slowly pushing him further and further. 

You could see what was about to happen nearly in slow motion. You acted quickly, not thinking about keeping your secret, but rather solely focused on helping Bucky. 

You broke through the window in the lab, wings appearing on your back as you flew to him. Just as you arrived, one of the agents shot him three times, propelling him backwards off the roof. Sending a shockwave over the roof, you knocked out the remaining agents as you dove, hurtling through the air to catch Bucky before he hit the ground. 

You grabbed him around the waist, lugging his body through the air with some difficulty. It wasn’t the most convenient position, plus you were slightly rusty from hiding your wings for so long. 

“Doll?” Bucky questioned, glancing at you through fluttering eyelids. “I knew you were my angel.” He whispered before his eyes fell closed, the blood loss getting to him. 

You swung around the building, re-entering through the broken lab window and laying Bucky on the lab bench. 

“Lifting lockdown protocol.” Friday announced, the noise barely registering in your ears. 

“Ms. L/N, Captain Rogers is requesting a check in from everyone on the team, would you like me to update him on yours and the Sergeant’s situation.” Friday asked. 

“Yeah, go ahead.” You muttered, not really paying attention to the question as you did your best to slow the bleeding. You haven’t tried healing anyone in years, so it was taking more effort than it should for you to fix this. 

You closed your eyes, hands hovering over Bucky’s body. Your wings were still present, although no longer fully extended. 

You channelled everything you could into healing Bucky’s wounds, drowning out any outside interference. Your hands began to glow, a warm golden light surrounding Bucky’s body as his bullet wounds healed. 

A few minutes passed as his wounds fully healed. You nearly collapsed from the relief of seeing him no longer bleeding out. His color was returning to normal, heartbeat speeding back up. 

“Y/N?” You jumped at the noise, turning around to see nearly the entire team staring at you. 

Your eyes went wide, hand still clutching Bucky’s as you stuttered in an attempt to come up with an explanation. 

“You have wings.” Wanda pointed out the obvious, everyone still wearing matching expressions of shock. 

You looked over your shoulder, nearly surprised by their presence on your back yourself. You had been so focused on healing Bucky, you forgot to hide them again. 

“Your hands were glowing.” Sam’s brow furrowed, looking between you and Bucky. 

You nodded, still unsure of what to say. 

Suddenly Steve barged into the room, unaware of the tension. He ran right for Bucky, yelling for someone to get a medic. 

“Why are you all just standing there? Friday said he was shot! Three times! Get a medic!” He looked at everyone in a panic before turning to look for wounds on Bucky. 

His brow furrowed as he tried to find any of the bullet wounds. “Wha- Where are the bullet wounds... He’s covered in blood, but not bleeding? Even we can’t heal that fast, what’s going on?” Steve turns back to the team, mouth slightly agape. 

They all point to you. 

Slowly, Steve turns finally noticing your presence. “Y/N?” He looks between the team and you again, a double take so fast it would have been funny if not for the situation. 

“You have wings?” He says it with much more confusion than Wanda’s point blank statement. 

You nod, voice still eluding you. You finally manage to get the wings to disappear. 

“Care to explain...” Tony asks, pointing to where your wings just were, your hands, and Bucky, “All of that?” 

Before you can reply, Bucky jolts awake with a groan. 

“What the hell?” He looks around the lab, taking everyone’s confused faces. Even Nat looks surprised. “How did I get here?” He rubs his abdomen, slightly sore from the bullets. 

Everyone shakes their heads, looking to you for answers. 

“Y/N?” He turns to you, hand squeezing yours slightly. “You were an angel. I thought I was dying...” He trailed off, trying to makes sense of everything in his head. 

“An angel?” Steve balks. Everyone else nods, various expressions of understanding on their faces. 

“I mean, that makes sense.” Nat chimes in, ready to accept it. “Wouldn’t be the weirdest thing that ever happened.”

“What?” Bucky asks, sitting up on the counter. “She’s not actually an angel. I just saw that as my... I don’t know, dying wish?” His face scrunched in confusion, trying to make sense of what he saw. 

“Well, I’m not dying and I saw the wings. And the glowing hands.” Clint speaks up, turning all eyes back to you. 

A voice in your head is suddenly booming. Your hands fly up to the sides of your head, trying to dull the ache of the screaming voice in your mind.

“Y/N L/N, you have broken the only rule bestowed upon you. According to contract 71, you are no longer permitted to enter the Angel Realm. Any attempts to return here will result in termination of your capabilities. Misuse of your capabilities on Earth or any other planet will result in termination of your capabilities.” Your boss’s voice was instantly recognizable. 

You didn’t notice the team crowding around you while you doubled over in pain, rubbing your temples as the message repeated. 

“Ugh, why did you have to say it twice?” You suddenly stared up at the sky, annoyed with the whole system. 

“Um, who said what twice?” Banner finally entered the lab, having been avoiding any anger inducing scenarios. 

Before anyone could jump in with what little knowledge they had, you started talking. 

“My Boss.” You winced, looking at Tony as he raised a brow. “My other boss... well, I guess not anymore. My former other boss.”

“Which is...” Tony gestured for you to continue. 

“Maybe you should all sit down, this could take a while...” 

Everyone followed as you lead them to the kitchen and living room. 

“Okay, I’ll just jump into I guess.” You took a deep breath, looking around the room at everyone’s curious and slightly impatient expressions. 

“I’m an angel.” You nodded, trying to reassure yourself that it was okay to say out loud. 

“Yeah, and? We figured that one out fifteen minutes ago.” Tony huffed, wanting more information. 

“Four years ago, I found out about the Avengers.” You looked at all of them, nervous for their reactions. “Angels are supposed to protect those who can’t help themselves, but I wanted to protect you all.”

“Why?” Steve asked, eying you curiously. 

“Would you all stop interrupting and let her explain!” Wanda whisper yelled, gesturing for you to continue. 

“It’s a valid question. Um, I guess I just thought you all put your lives on the line to help everyone else and I wanted to do what I could to help you. I convinced my former boss to let me come here. I told her protecting you guys would protect all the people you were bound to save, and that’s a lot of people.”

Everyone nodded, seemingly taking in the information. 

“I wanted to tell you. I really did, but it was my only rule. I wasn’t allowed to.” You nervously wrung your hands together, biting your lip as everyone took in the information. 

“That’s why it’s former boss?” Nat questioned. 

“Yes. She fired me?” It was a question to your own ears. “I’ve never heard of an angel being fired before. That kinda sucks.” Everyone chuckled at that. 

“And that was why you doubled over in pain in the lab?” Bucky questioned, concern in his voice. 

You nodded. “Yeah, she has a habit of yelling in my head. And she always says everything twice.” You glared at the ceiling again, knowing she had probably moved on from you already. 

“You’re not mad?” You looked back at Bucky, practically forgetting about everyone else in the room. 

“You caught me after I was shot off of a building and then healed my three bullet wounds. I think you’ve made up for the secret.” Bucky smiled, pulling you into his lap for a hug. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.” 

You nearly burst into tears at the relief you were feeling. “Oh thank God.” You squeezed him as tight as you thought he could handle, needing to feel him close to your for a second. 

You then turned to face the rest of the team, giving them an equally nervous look. “Are you guys mad?”

“Well, I didn’t get any magic healing.” Sam huffed, a smile on his face. 

“Nobody flew me around the compound.” Tony added on. 

“But, you can fly?” You gave him a confused expression. 

“Dammit” Tony muttered, thinking on his feet. “Tell you what, tell me what else you can do and we’ll call it even.”

“Deal... Maybe we can meet back here in half an hour?” You looked at their bruised and bloody bodies. “You all look like you could use a shower, and I for one would love to get this blood off me.” You gestured to the blood covering your jeans and shirt.

-

A half hour later, you were back in the living room. Tony ordered pizza, everyone crowding around the coffee tables and couches. 

“Alright. Get to it!” Tony called out, excitement clear in his voice. 

You stood up, turning to face the crowd. “Well, you know about the wings.” Your wings extended from your back with a woosh, spreading out before settling in a resting position. 

You heard various mutterings as everyone took in your wings in their full glory. You then floated slightly above the floor, wings gently flapping to keep you suspended. 

“How’s it feel birdman, her wings are part of her.” Bucky jested at Sam, a proud smile on his face.

“Yeah, well mine are bulletproof.” Sam sneered, a smile on his face. 

“Actually,” you winced, “Mine can be bulletproof. Basically, I can do whatever I want, but only for short periods of time. Like if someone surprise shot me, it would hurt. But if I was prepared, it would bounce off.”

“Wow.” Steve looked at you, a mixture of surprise and wonder in his eyes. 

“Um, I can also walk through walls, create shockwaves, move things with my mind, hack into any computer- although it takes some actual knowledge to not leave a trail... I mean, I’m pretty strong, but I don’t have much training for fighting hand to hand or anything. Oh, and mind manipulation? Not like mind control or anything, that is definitely frowned upon. Just... like earlier I made the Hydra agents forget the blueprints so they wouldn’t be able to get around the compound as quickly.” 

Everyone jumped in with questions. You answered every single one, talking well into the night. You did your best to give examples of your powers, like moving the rubble around to fix the giant hole in the south side of the compound. 

After a few hours, Bucky cut in. “Guys, she’ll still be here tomorrow. Wait, you will still be here, right?” He looked at you in a panic.

“Yes, unless you all want me gone, I’m here to stay.” You smile at them. 

“Good. Now as I was saying, she’ll be here tomorrow. Ask her the rest of your questions then. Hell, make a list if you want. Just let me take my best girl to bed.” Bucky pulled you up from the couch, leading you out of the room. 

“Goodnight!” You called back to the team before turning to Bucky. “What did I say about being your best girl?” You playfully hit his side. 

He pulled you into his arms, hugging you while you waited for the elevator. “I’m sorry. My only girl.”

“That’s better.”

Permanent taglist:

@averyhotchner @jesuswasnotawhiteman

[nebulus-frd]

Jealous and protective Rowan and oblivious Aelin in a modern established relationship au

Hi!!!

Thank u so much for the request. I loved your prompt and also love Rowaelin deeply. Hope u enjoy it ♡

If you liked it or not, let me know. Leave a comment, compliments and especially, constructive critics, are always welcomed.

Wanna request your story? Come ⋆⭒ here ⋆⭒, tell me everything. ----------

The beach. The sea. Them.

Synopsis: Modern AU where Rowan and Aelin finally get a deserved vacation. But he isn't enjoying all the attention given to his wife during the first day of it.

Rated: T

Warnings: implied sexual content. If I forgot anything, let me know.

Words: 1700+ (oneshot).

1/1

It was their first time back at the beach after being married.

The life of a military couple was hectic, to say the least, but Rowan and Aelin were rather used to the chaos. This explained why Rowan found himself alone in bed on the first morning of their vacation. Although his wife had always been a late riser, he knew better than anyone how hard it was to break their routine and if he himself hadn’t take medicine to fall asleep, he wouldn’t probably have slept at all.

Not bothering to properly dress, Rowan moved to the kitchen only to find it empty. Did she go grocery shop? But to his surprise not only was the fridge completely packed, but three sandwiches also topple each other on a plate next to a note.

Good morning princess, did you sleep well? Not even a true love kiss was able to break from the evil medicine spell. I’m training on the beach. Join me… Or not, if you feel like sleeping throughout the entirety of our vacation.

Love,

Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius.

Rowan didn’t even feel the smile that broke through him. God, I love her. Of course, she was training. His wife always called him a workaholic and a military freak, only to always prove herself one. The food was warm enough for her not to have left for too long. And in half an hour Rowan found himself heading to their hotel gym.

Where was Aelin?

He had circulated the gym area twice without success in the mission of joining his wife. Could she be at the beach? It wouldn’t be a surprise. Aelin loves the sea, the sunny weather, and the heat on her skin.

Eight years ago, if someone said to Rowan that there were people who loved those things, he would have straight-out laughed in their faces. He couldn’t anymore. He had learned to appreciate each of these unlike anyone else.

Rowan loved the smile Aelin would have while watching the sea, loved the glow her eyes would reflect under the sun’s light, loved the heat from Aelin’s heart.

His wife had changed each perspective he had in his life.

And while at the beach, once again he asked himself how the hell, he was deserving of the woman he married to?

Aelin was coming out of the sea, dressed in a swimsuit that covered a lot more of what he was used to seeing, looking like the sea god herself had descended in the mortal world to bestow her beauty upon mortals. Thus, Rowan was hindered breathless and as soon as their eyes locked up, he could listen to her thoughts through them.

“Are you delight with the view?”

And the smile that broke in her lips made his knees go weak. She pointed to a small pile of clothes at his right and he could recognize the tennis beside it. As soon as they met Rowan girdled his arm around her hips and kissed her.

“Missed me much?” Aelin asked holding a smirk while still in his arms. Her turquoise eyes nailed on his green-forest ones. The only answer she received was a grunt and a heavy head dropping in her shoulder. “You know you could use words, rather than growling like a beast”, which made Aelin feel the smile coming from her husband, she could picture it too: the perfect set of teeth accompanied by two fangs that were borderline not-human, which had left so many marks on last night's activities, she had almost come to the beach in a diver suit.

“I can’t be bothered. There are a lot of more interesting things to do with my mouth… And my tong…”, Rowan’s impure statement was interrupted by the sound of Aelin’s phone ring, it took a moment for the woman to snap out of the mood her husband had put them in. Poor object, it earned a glare that, if possible, would have transformed it into ashes.

“Oh hi!... Yes, of course, I’m coming… Right, next to the bar… Yes, be there in a few”, she said on the phone friendly. With whom she could have made prior appointments?

“Where are you going?”, Rowan asked confused, involuntarily holding her tighter, Aelin didn’t hide the smile at her husband's unwillingness.

“WE are going to a functional training, apparently the hotel holds them every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday”, she said while putting on a pair of shorts and her tennis, Rowan just nodded in answer.

Once they were in the central area, the closer location between the hotel’s pools and the beach, the equipment could already be seen as well as 10 people roaming around it. Soon enough a man came up to them greeting Aelin, too friendly to Rowan’s likeness, although he could only spot the top of his head.

“Miss Galathnyius, it’s good to have you with us today”, the strange said while avoiding looking at Rowan’s side but he did not miss a beat.

“It’s Mrs.” his accented and low voice seemed to reverberate, earning him an alarmed glance from the instructor, as he had taken from his clothes and name tag.

“Yes, of course. Mr. and Mrs. Galathnyius it’s a pleasure to have both of you here”, the smaller man seemed ready to bolt as he alternated his looks from Rowan’s face tattoo and Aelin’s mirth-filled eyes, she just nodded and that was very well what he did. She knew it wasn’t jealousy from her husband, more like his inability to not correct a mistaken person.

Oh, how wrong she was.

…

Half an hour throughout the class, Rowan was calculating how much trouble would he be if he were to beat three civilians. As the training was open to anyone at the beach, around fifteen more people had come to enjoy the activities. Including a group of four men, who seem too inclined to help Aelin with her training.

Which had made Rowan seeing red since he heard the first suggestion in correcting Aelin’s posture during a core exercise. Whilst his wife seemed completed oblivious as not only agreed to a few suggestions and gave tips of her own. Rowan didn’t mind that both were right.

Nonetheless, at each suggestion made by a stranger, Rowan would casually assert his territory. Moving closer to Aelin, helping her with the weights and holding her during an exercise that required it. Of course, there was the possibility that none of the people participating held any second intentions towards his wife and were only trying to be helpful. He seriously doubted it, even though that was what Aelin seem to think.

Usually, Rowan had never been one to bluntly be jealous and if he found it necessary to discuss attitude with someone, he wouldn’t do it in front of Aelin. But he’d gone apeshit when one of the guys from before made a move to touch her while he went to grab for water. Fuck this. He had been by her side every single moment. What’s with these disrespectful motherfuckers?

The man whose hands extended to help Aelin in moving the piece on her waist only caught a movement in corner of his eyes before a mountain of a man was before him. His eyes caught a glimpse of a wicked tattoo on the man’s face, which had been hidden by the cap he was using.

Rowan’s intimidating demeanor and the fucking gold ring in his and hers left hands were more than enough for assholes to grasp the situation.

She is mine, I’m hers. Fuck off.

Either it was the rings or himself didn’t matter. Apparently, with one look everybody understood his warning.

…

However, nine hours later, he’d been left baffled as his wife complained how, after he glued himself to her side, nobody had talked or interacted with her anymore.

“Well, if you weren’t such a territorial bastard today, we could have made some friends that could introduce us to the town”, she said as they had clearly lost themselves while looking for a Japanese restaurant.

“I beg your pardon?”, Rowan answered seeing red all over again just from remembering the previous event.

“Oh, come on, you thought I did notice? You were just asserting your territory for the heck of it”, she said not bothering with more than an eye roll, still searching the street’s name on their map.

“For the heck of it?”, Rowan was bewildered. Aelin thought he was doing that out of leisure?

“You couldn’t possibly be jealous of those guys from the beach, right?”, she said finally dropping the stupid map that had put them in their current predicament and looking straight into his eyes. Whatever she saw there gave Rowan his favorite smile. “You were….”, she laughed, loud and uncaring. Beautiful. “You are unbelievable”.

Like the viper his wife was, she stealthy approached him in that dark alley. “My cranky husband was jealous of some gym dudes?”, her voice was surrounded by arrogance and seductiveness. Reminding Rowan just who he had married with. The most confident, assertive, dazzling woman he had ever met.

Their eyes were locked on each other as she stalked him like a snake ready to consume her prey. His response to her provocation was nothing more than a grunt. “You know what you should have done?... You could have kissed me right there, ravished me, really… And I would’ve said thank you”.

After many years into their relationship, one would think that Rowan had become numb to Aelin’s advances. However, it was very much the opposite of it. He would be scandalized, shocked… And excited, she burned him with bold words and even bolder actions that made his head spin. His calloused hand didn’t miss one second into holding Aelin’s by her backside and his mouth went to her neck.

“Ditch dinner, Fireheart, I will show you what I would like to have done”, Rowan could feel Aelin’s thundering heartbeat, like his own due to their proximity. It would never lie to him, he affected her just as she did him.

“Oh, why, when you say with such gentleness. I suppose we could make something at home”, she smoothed her hand at Rowan’s ringed finger each word, handing him a bright smile by the end. “I love you”, albeit the sentence was said in a soft tone, it swept bothering feelings between the two, such as sea waves that accompanied their evening.

“To whatever end”, he said holding her left hand and as they walked toward the ocean. Free, unrestricted, and vast. Much like their love.

[writingsfromhome]

Bad Timing I

A/N: This is you and your ex, (Detective) Harry, winding up in each other’s lives again after a traumatic event in your life. I’ve had this idea in my notes app for like a year, and I just decided to go for it this week! It’s a little all over the place as I set it up but I think the next part will go a lot better if you can stick with it (and I appreciate you if you can <3).

Warnings: Violence (guns), PTSD?

Part 1 / (.5) / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

------------------------------------------

I had booked Thursday and Friday off in advance. I made sure my e-mails were forwarded, my clients were told I wouldn't be in, and any internal matters were allocated to my assistant. It was going to be a relaxing long weekend where I could have a homemade meal for once and watch Netflix all day. I was my branch’s youngest director and even though it was a fulfilling job, I hadn't had a day off since I got the position four months ago.

This was probably why, at 9am, I get a call from my assistant. One of our bigger clients was refusing to discuss his loan terms with anyone and wanted to speak to me directly.

"Tell him I'm not in Adam, you shouldn't even be calling me-I have the bloody day off."

"Yess but he said he's coming in at 10 and if you're not here he's switching banks for his personal and business accounts." Adam stuttered. “If you lose this client H-”

"Jesus," I look at my outfit and the time-I barely had any time to make it to the bank; it took me 40 minutes just to get to work. "I'll be there-distract him if I'm late. Oh! Ask about his daughter's new private school!"

I rush to my room and apply minimal makeup, pull back my y/h/c hair and throw on my black cigarette pants and a blazer. I'm halfway down the lift when I realise I was still in my t-shirt. "Shite," I mutter. I button the blazer and put my scarf around my neck so it's covered. That was decent enough for my day off.

I arrive breathless and sweaty 5 minutes early to the bank despite the cool weather. Might have seemed like a win if that wasn’t when everything went downhill. Just as I walk up to the side door, waving at Adam who was walking out to greet me, a crash from the entrance startles me.

"Hands up!” A loud voice booms from behind me. “Don't touch a fucking thing!" I turn, seeing Adam’s shocked expression, just in time to be shoved to the floor by four people dressed all in black, and wearing celebrity masks. In all my time working here, I’d never been part of a bank heist and some part of me is frozen, mind blank. I wasn’t even supposed to be here!

"I said to put your hands up!" The one with a Brad Pitt face points the gun around the room as people scramble for cover. I inch backwards to the counter as I watch them manhandle the customers and pull our bankers to the floor. I release a breath, trying to snap out of the shock I seemed to be in. The base of a column digs into my back and I focus on that to ground myself, scanning each robber, and where my employees were. Adam has his hands on his head, the closest one to me. I try to catch his eye to reassure him but he’s squeezing them tight. I didn’t blame him, Brad Pitt stands over him menacingly. I look to the customers, they weren’t trying to be smart--that was good. I’d watched enough TV to know that was never a smart move.

Just as I think that, from the corner of my eye, I catch Cole, one of our guards reach for his gun. A loud shot echoes through the small space and I swivel my head trying to see what's happened while making sure everyone was okay. The thief wearing a Kanye West mask, manning the front entrance of the bank, had shot Cole in the arm and he was bleeding all over the floor. My first instinct is to help him but I'm yanked back down before I make it a step.

"We’re not missing the next person who moves a muscle. I want you all to drop your phones in the middle! No. Fucking. Funny business." The thief who shot Cole points his gun to all of us and it takes all of me to not hyperventilate. I hear a few people crying but I don't dare look. Instead, I watch on as David Beckham drags Cole to the side and ties his hands behind him. I can see by the wincing that they didn’t care whether they twisted his arms too hard. This wasn’t a petty robbery, they were hardcore.

"Who has the passcode to the vault?" Brad Pitt asks as one of his friends goes around zip tying everybody's hands behind them. When nobody answers he shoves the gun in Adam’s face and I let out a sob. What did we do to deserve this?

"Me," I choke out. “Don’t hurt him, I have the passcode. I know it.”

"You?" The man asks. "You better not be lying bitch or you'll be joining your friend there."

I nod as he pulls me up by the arm and uses my scarf to tie my hands. I try to stay calm, the only way I could get through this before the police arrived was to keep my calm. Everything in me is screaming to do something--fight, scream, swear, cry, but I keep my mouth shut and follow Brad Pitt and the joker to the back. I'm led at gunpoint to the vault and they untie me so I can put in the code and my thumbprint. The one in a Joker mask presses her gun into my back and I know the least of my worries was a bruise but that was the only thing I could focus on.

She shoves me forward when I pause, hovering my finger over the finger pad, in the distance I hear sirens. Please let us all be okay, I pray.

"Don’t be a fucking hero, let’s go!" The female behind me yells in my ear and I rush to press my thumb.

As soon as I finish the procedure, I feel an explosion like fireworks against the side of my head and everything goes dark.

H POV:

I walked into the station around 10, just having come back from a nearby escalated domestic call. It wasn’t the craziest thing I’ve ever been involved in at 10am on a Thursday morning.

"Harry, there seems to be some sort of commotion near Holborn, the director wants you in his office." Serena, the receptionist tells me gravely. I don’t even consider the street, assuming it would be another criminal to go after. But when I go into the office, we get the rundown: there was a robbery happening at the HSBC. That’s when I understand the gravity of the situation.

"We’ve sent a few men right now, they seemed to be armed so proceed with caution." He warns. I had been on the force for over four years; I moved rank fast and knew how to handle myself so the warning was mostly for the junior constables. But my heart thuds violently in my chest when I think about the possibility...no. I had to focus. But I can’t help but try her cell on our way to the scene. When it continues to ring, my thoughts go to the worse place possible. I know I hadn’t spoken to her in nearly a year, like she wanted, but if anything happened to her, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.

When we arrive at the scene, the thieves are still inside. I make sure nobody makes any moves, following protocol, and trying to gauge the exact situation inside. But before I could give orders, a man holding up his zip-tied hands shuffles out of the building. I notice the terror on his face and the fact that he's not armed.

"Down!" I say. The restless energy building up inside of me makes every move feel frantic.

"They left out the back! They left!" The man's shaky voice reaches our ears. I gesture a few of the officers to head around back and radio in the update.

"Get his statement, be sensitive,” I snap at the closest officer before I take a few of my officers indoors. The scene inside only reminds me why I do what I do, there's glass on the floor, phones in a pile and bullets littering the floor. Everyone looks shocked, people are crying, and a man in the corner is bleeding profusely.I scan all their faces but I don’t see her. I pray that she might have taken the day off today or something, even though I knew she rarely every did. Where was she?

"Medical," I order. I face the crowd, "You're all alright, If everyone can slowly get up and follow Officer McGregor out, we'll see that your belongings are returned to you and collect statements later. You’re all alright now."

"Sir," a bloke off to the side steps forward from the group getting up. "Our manager was taken to the back...we're not sure how she is, she hasn't come out...”

I reassure the crowd she should be fine. I didn't want them to see me panic, not to mention if we had any casualty the press outside were going to bombard this crowd with insensitive questions and I really wanted to keep this on the low. I was considered young for a DCI and any screw up meant I took it twice as hard. And I didn’t know if I could behave normally if I didn’t find her in any way except breathing. I put on my brave face.

I get an officer to stand by and venture cautiously into the back, spotting an open vault. I hurry into the area when I spot her, laying motionless on the floor.

“Y/N,” I rush forward, skidding on my knees to check on her. “Pleasepleaseplease.” I put my fingers to her pulse and nearly shout in relief. She was alive! I send a thanks out into the universe, to whoever was watching over her. “Y/N! Y/N, can you hear me?”

Her eyes flutter under her lids. I turn her gently onto her back, she was wearing a Green Day t-shirt under a smart jacket and trousers--that was unlike her. She always dressed very smart. I gently remove her short strands off her face to reveal a nasty bruise on the side of her head. I try to stifle my heartbeat; it scared me seeing her like this. I’m about to call my officer but her long lashes flutter and suddenly she's looking at me, dazed.

"Y/N! Are you alright?" I inquire. She blinks, and then again, her eyebrows drawn together as she stares at me. I try again, “Y/N, answer me please! Are you alright?”

"I...do I...bloody look alright? Where did they go?" She snaps out of her daze and tries to sit up but her hand goes to her head which must be throbbing. I place a hand on her back so she doesn't fall back down.

"Oh thank god,” I sigh in relief, she could talk. She was alright. “Th-they’'ve managed to escape. We'll deal with that. You were knocked unconscious so we should get you checked-”

"Those bastards," she snarls. I bite back a chuckle as I help her up. She pushes me away as soon as she's on her feet. "I wasn't even supposed to bloody be here today you know that? It was my day off and....Jesus.” She clutches her forehead. “How's everyone else? Chris? Adam?"

"Everyone is fine, your guard’s being taken to hospital. Everyone else is untouched, we need to have you checked out though." I am mesmerized, as always, by her ability to talk about ten things at once.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“It’s my case, I guess,” I tell her, expecting the question. She scowls. “I’ll have to ask you some questions later, but Y/N we need to have your head checked.”

“I’m sure you’d like that,” she mumbles.

“You’re proving by the second that you’re quite alright but we’ve got to get you to a medic anyway,” I gesture forward so she can walk ahead of me. I didn’t want her falling or anything. The constable at the door watches her walk out and eyes me warily.

"She need her statement taken chief?"

"I'll take her down to the station myself--she's hurt." I dismiss the officer and follow Y/N out. I wanted to keep an eye on her right now. “Can I help you walk?”

“My legs are working fine,” she snarls whilst clutching her forehead.

Your POV:

I could not believe today's turn of events. I was supposed to have a relaxing day off but instead, I’m rushed to work so I could be held up by thieves, forced to help them rob my branch, only to be mildly concussed. And the person on the case is none other than my ex-husband Harry Styles.

The only thing going for me is that I don't cry easily (or i would be a sniffling mess right now). And Harry was the last person I wanted to cry in front of although he’s seen me at much worse. I push aside those memories, ignoring his lingering eyes and try to walk ahead of him.

I cover up my shaking hands by stuffing them under the blanket I'm wrapped in when Harry leads me to the ambulance. He stays to the side while the medic goes through a questionnaire and informs me on what I need to know about being mildly concussed. All I could think about is the feeling of a gun pressed to the small of back, the chill of it through fabric. 

"Miss?" The medic asks.

"Sorry, I got it. Yes. Thank you."

"I asked how you got here?" The medic begins to look concerned. Shit. I did not want more attention.

"I...meant I got what you were saying. Sorry, I rode the tube in."

"Great. You can ride with me to the station," Harry says from the side. I avoid his gaze but I have to agree. There was no way I was taking the tube during a time like this. I had a concussion.

So I'm sat in the back whilst Harry drives with his partner. I catch Harry glancing in the rear-view more often than he should and when we make eye contact, he gives me a reassuring smile. But sitting in the back of the car, I feel like the metal tip of a gun still keeps my spine straight. My lungs feel like they're not expanding large enough for air and I clutch the seatbelt strapping me in. I try to name all the countries I could remember--a coping technique I’d used since I was a kid to try and distract myself.

"You alright miss?" The other officer sounds concerned.

"Yeah," I choke out. "Just a little stuffy back here."

"Oh ‘m sorry," Harry opens the back window and I greedily gulp the fresh air coming in. My panic subsides and I settle back into the seat.

*

"And that's all you remember?" Harry sits on the desk chair next to me even though his own seat remains empty behind the desk.

"Exactly as I've told you, like, 20 times Harry."

It was now two hours later; I'd sat waiting for an hour before receiving my phone only to find multiple calls from the bank’s higher-ups. After dealing with them, I had to wait another half hour before finally being interviewed. I proceeded to drink two cups of bad coffee while giving every detail of what I remember, their masks, and so on. Every time I said something that could help, Harry would backtrack and I would explain it three different ways. It was frustrating and the repetition kicked my anxiety up so that I was on the edge of a breakdown. I grip the arms of the chair and respond to Harry. "Listen, alright, why would I not be telling you the full story? Of course that's all I bloody remember! It's not like I had an out-of-body experience and I saw them leave through the back door.”

"I'm sorry Y/N, it's just routine." Harry keeps a straight face on.  "We have a few suspicions we're trying to corroborate by interviewing everyone involved. I promise I’m just being thorough-"

"Yeah yeah alright, you sound like you're reading from a bloody manual," I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh into the silence. When Harry doesn't say anything, I look up to see him watching me with an amused expression.

"What?" I ask, annoyed.

"It’s been a while...I forgot how charming you can be.”

“What can I say, you bring it out in me.”

"Very interesting outfit by the way," he takes my snark in stride, gesturing to my outfit with his pen instead. I cross my arms in front of me. He's still got the stupid expression on his face, it looks unchanged from the one he used to give me once upon a time. When he found something I did funny but in a loveable way; the feelings that surface are almost unbearable.

"Don’t judge my outfit, I had to rush to work for our client meet-oh shit." I pull out my phone and check my email but there's nothing from the client. Probably avoiding the shit show. I notice the time, with all the time I’d wasted today I may as well not have taken the day off at all.

"So you weren't meant to be at work today except for this client? Bad timing isn’t it." Harry reads to himself from his notes. I stare at him, wishing I could burn a hole into his skull to see if he really had a brain in there.

"I've told you this five times before, Harry. You're literally reading from your notes. If you're just going to ask the same questions over and over I’m sure you can find the answers in there and I can go home."

"Right but something doesn't add up, I just want to make sure I have all the details."

"Do I have to be here to watch you do your mental maths?" I wasn't very nice when anxiety and frustration became my base emotions. But Harry knew that.

He looks at me, eyebrows raised at my snark. "I'm sure that you want to get to the bottom of this just as much as I do-"

"But that's not my job," I remind him. "That's yours. I've done mine, and I'd really just like to go home." My voice cracks, and I feel a rush of embarrassment.

"How about I drop you off home? I can walk through the day with you once more during the drive?”

He looks at me expectantly, “I’d rather stab myself in the eye.”

"Best not to with the concussion,” Harry pushes my buttons, and I’m kind of surprised. The last time we saw each other he’d been accommodating to my anger but he was pushing back today. Like he used to when we were together when he riled me up simply because he found it amusing.

When I scowl though, he gets serious. “Y/N, just let me give you a ride home and we can talk more.”

I didn’t want to stand around arguing, I was tired, so I just agree. He smiles, his dimples making a pretty appearance. Damn him.

H POV:

I’m surprised she agrees to ride home with me. I knew Y/N had a stubborn streak and giving in to my offer was new. She’d made it clear last time we saw each other that she wanted nothing to do with me. I was also curious to know where she lived, I’d only been to her office once since we’d split. And that was usually to drop off papers.

She actually answers my questions on the drive, albeit they’re one word answers, but she gives me space to talk out some theories I had. But she also disagrees with most of them, pointing out their flaws. The comfortable back-and-forth between us is bittersweet. This was why we were married once upon a time. We worked well together; after all, we’d been friends for years before dating the other. It was the friendship I missed the most when I thought about us.

When we drive up to her address, it’s a townhome in a decent part of the city. Her promotion clearly had its perks.

I leap out of the car to open her door before she could but she beats me to it, scowling at me as she realises what I was trying to do.

“So you live here?” I try to ease into a conversation, get her to open up, ask her how she was doing. But she looks at me like I’d asked a stupid question, waving her keys.

“You’re kind of dense for a detective,” she says when I raise an eyebrow. “Don’t look so shocked.”

“Forget I asked,” getting personal was useless.

“Done.” She always manages to get the last word. She climbs her steps but I follow her up. She eyes me as she finds the correct one on her key ring. “What?”

“I just-have you got anyone living with you?”

“What’s that got to do with the case?” She asks, her defenses going up.

“You’re concussed, it’s best you have someone with you for the next 24 hours like the med-”

“I’ll be fine Harry,” her sharp edges soften but still, she only opens her door wide enough to step through. I can barely see anything behind her except for a hall.

“You shouldn’t be alone,” I try again.

“Nice of you to care,” the way she says it implies a deeper meaning, one that borders on a dangerous topic.

“I’m serious Y/N, this--a concussion’s no joke. And it was traumatic what you went through you really shouldn’t-”

“I’ve been on my own for a while now, I’ll be okay.” There she goes having the last word again. I raise my hands and back off.

“If you say so. I’ll...head back to the station but if you need anything, well, you know how to reach me.”

She nods, closing the door softly behind her. I sigh, it was a whirlwind last few hours but I was just grateful Y/N was going to be okay. I know she hated me, but I still cared about her. It was hard not to. We’d known each other for over a decade, and even though I hurt her in our past, and she might not agree with me, I cared. Caring about her didn’t have an on/off switch. I only wanted her to be okay. Maybe even happy.

Y POV:

I go through the motions for the rest of the afternoon, mostly I sit zoned out in front of the window while the morning plays like a loop in my head. Something about having your life hang in the balance of a stranger’s pointer finger made it feel so fragile. It unraveled me, and I can’t focus on anything. I just keep feeling the gun on my back, and smashing against the side of my head.

I keep my head iced, and avoid screens except to send out a couple emails and to call my sister after 8 voice messages that progresses from panic after hearing the news to annoyance as I don’t respond. When she finds out Harry’s on the case she swears.

“That bastard,” I can see her face in my mind, the one where she pursues her lips like mum used to. “You should report him, conflict of interest right? It’s traumatic enough what you’ve been through, you poor thing. I was just talking to Lewis and he said I should come down to stay with you this weekend-”

“That’s really alright,” I nip the idea in the bud. I loved my sister dearly but she was an overly anxious person and I don’t think that would be helpful for me right now. “It’s just a mild concussion, the medic said I should be cleared after 24 hours so it would only be a hassle for you to come down here.”

“Alright,” she says grudgingly. “But you say the word and I’m on the first train out. And I’ll give that ex of yours an earful if he’s anywhere near you again.”

I smile at my sister’s overprotective nature, “I appreciate the offer, but I think I can manage that fine on my own.”

“That you can,” she laughs.

But when I put down the phone, the silence creeps in again. And normally I loved the quiet but like a broken record player, the voices and sounds from this morning continue to play in a loop in the silence.

I give up after 7 and start preparing for bed. But a call interrupts my nightly routine.

“Y/N,” it’s Harry. “It’s me, Harry.”

“I do have call display,” I say dryly.

“Right, I...wasn’t expecting you to pick up.”

“Is this about the case?” I was hoping he was calling to say the bastards were caught.

“Oh...not exactly. I was wondering if you’ve fed yourself. I’m in your area for work, it’s my last call. I thought I could bring you some takeout or...?”

“I was about to get ready for bed.” I reply.

“Oh. That’s early? Have you had dinner?”

I think about the pathetic cheese toast I’d managed to make. My stomach growls thinking about food, I didn’t seem to have an appetite until he’s said something. “Fine, only if you’re in my area.”

Surely, not even 10 minutes go by and by doorbell rings. Harry stands outside with a takeout bag, his pressed shirt from this morning is more rumpled with a few buttons undone.

“I parked on the street--is that alright?”

“I guess? You’re just here to drop this off.” I shrug.

“Actually I uh, I thought I’d keep you some company.”

“I...” I don’t know if I should be offended. “I don’t need company. I only agreed to the takeout.”

“I’m part of the package,” he hides the bag behind him, a smug smile on his face. I roll my eyes, it was too late to do this with him.

So I leave the door open and head inside, tightening my robe around me. Harry was part of my past and having him here, in the place I’d built myself back again, feels wrong. This was where I’d shed the identity of being a divorcee before 30, and here he was. When I turn to see why he was so quiet, I find him scanning my gallery wall and smiling at the pictures.

“Hey, I’m on here,” he points to a small group picture.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” I walk back to him to get the food. “I just looked good there.”

It was a shot from my sister’s wedding, Harry and I with the newlyweds. It was taken a few weeks before we’d made us official actually--moving from friends to lovers was maybe one of the bigger mistake I’d made in life. Another was agreeing to marry him.

“I look pretty good too,” he leans in closer. I ignore him and take the cartons of Chinese out and grab cutlery. He joins me, I hand him a beer and take a sparkling water for myself. “How’ve you been feeling?”

“Okay,” I shrug. “Just sorting through it all. Trying to avoid screens, all that.”

“That’s good,” he steals a chicken from the container I’m dumping into my plate. I eye him but he just grins, chewed food between his cheeks. I let it slide. “So you’re not supposed to sleep with a concussion or something?”

I sigh, “That’s not true, I only have a mild concussion!”

“Well I’m not a bloody doctor!”

“Thank god for that.”

“You’ll never stop doing that will you?” He rubs his chopsticks together and attempts to eat with him. “Always so snarky.”

“I can’t help it,” I continue to watch him fail with his chopsticks and pick up a fork. “It sustains me.”

“You should try being nice for once.”

“Tried it once, didn’t work out well for me. So...here I am.”

I was being passive, I knew that. He knew that with the way he eyes me over his food. He keeps quiet though, knowing there was nothing he could say in this moment to make a difference. We eat in silence until he receives a call and he leaves to take it. I clean up so by the time he gets back I’ve just loaded the dishwasher.

“I know the sleep thing’s not true for you,” Harry says as he approaches. “But I think I should stay here overnight. Just to make sure you’re-”

“No,” I cross my arms. “There’s no reason for you to stay the night Harry. I don’t need you here.”

“It’s for your peace of mind-”

“It’s for your peace of mind Harry. And frankly, I don’t care about your peace of mind. I don’t want you sleeping over, I’m not comfortable with that.”

“Y/N, c’mon! It’s not a big deal. It’s not like we didn’t sleep in the same bed for years--I’ll be sleeping on the couch! You’re not in your best shape and it’s just for a night, it’ll be like I’m not even here.”

“Don’t you have a girlfriend or something to go home to?” I ask. He shifts his gaze and shakes his head.

“Nope, my bachelor pad just me. I’ll be out of your hair in the morning.”

I dry my hands and watch him, he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. I knew him well enough to recognise the wide stance, shoulders back, and jut of his chin. He wasn’t backing down.

“I don’t want to hear you, Not even a peep. I’ll make up the couch but this is the one and only time you’re wearing me down, you’re lucky I’m not in the mood to argue-”

“Promise,” he holds his hand up to his chest, a grin on his face knowing he won.

I leave him with a comfortable setup and head up to my own room. There was a spare upstairs but I don’t think I could handle him sleeping next door to me. It was weird how in just one day I’d seen more of him than I had in the last couple years and now he was sleeping in my living room like we were okay. Not like he wasn’t the man who’d broken my trust, and my heart.

As I lay awake in bed, unable to sleep as the day replays in my head, another set of memories infiltrates my mind and keeps me from sleeping. The story of Harry and I, the naive beginning, eventful middle, and heartbreaking end. My mind repeats its history and I don’t fall asleep for hours. When sleep finally comes, my dreams are haunted by the same memories.

[itsthewritergal]

My lips are sealed - F.W. x reader

This is my first ever long fic! This will probably be about four parts :) 

Warnings - mentions of abortion but nothing in detail, please don’t read if it may trigger you xx 

Part Two 

Part Three

Y/N held the test in a sweaty palm. She never knew how long two minutes could be, she could hear the hustle and bustle of the shop. She paced the staff room floor waiting for the results. She drummed her fingers along her thigh in an attempt to distract her mind. It didn’t work. She knew that the shop was busy but she had to know. Her alarm cut through the tension, quickly grabbing the test. She looked at it in despair.

Positive.

“Y/N I know you’re on your break but we’re swamped” George said walking into the staff room. Y/N quickly hid the test into her bag, wiping the tears off her face

“I’m coming” She said plastering a fake smile onto her face. George gave her a wary look, noticing the way her voice wavered, she walked past him quickly.

George kept a watchful eye on Y/N for the rest of the day, something was wrong. He just didn’t know what, Y/N was usually good at telling the twins when something was going on, which was why George was so confused why Y/N wasn’t saying anything.

----

Fred closed the shop door with a content sigh and a grin on his face,

“Well that was a good day! Anyone wanting drinks? I’ll get the first round” He suggested raising an eyebrow at both George and Y/N knowing that they almost never turn down an opportunity to go drinking

“Yeah sounds good” George grinned “Y/N?” He asked turning his attention to the girl who sat behind the till in her own little world, paying no attention to the conversation “Y/N” He said again, making her jolt her head up towards him

“What?” She asked confused, not realising she had been ignoring them both “Drinks?” Fred said with a grin

“Yeah sure” She said with a forced smile.

“Perfect! You two go, I’ll meet you there in a moment, I’ve just got to grab my coat” Fred grinned ushering George and Y/N out of the shop.

They sat in their usual booth in the corner of the crowded pub. Y/N still just as distracted as she was in the shop, “What’s going on?” George asked drawing Y/N’s attention away from picking at the nail polish on her fingers

“Nothing” She said quietly “I’m just super tired” She lied easily, George didn’t pick up on it.

Fred slid himself in next to George, placing their drinks down on the table.

“Drink up” He smiled

Y/N lifted the drink to her lips but with one sip she felt herself about to throw up. Climbing out of the booth she ran towards the toilets.

Y/N sat on the bathroom floor her head over the toilet. She let herself cry for a few moments, suddenly feeling completely alone. She heard a knock on the door, it was muffled.

“I’ll be out in a second” she said picking herself up off the floor, splashing some water on her face, there was yet another knock. With a huff she unlocked the door, she was greeted with a concerned looked George.

“You okay?” He asked,

“Yeah I’m fine, I think it’s just a bug. I’m going to go home” She said with a smile

“Call me if you need anything” he said giving her a comforting hug.

George made his way back to the table once Y/N had walked out of the pub.

“What’s wrong with her?” Fred asked

“Think she’s coming down with something”

“That’s not good” Fred said with a sad look “I’ll go see her tomorrow and check on her” He promised.

----

George was late, which left Y/N and Fred to manage the shop alone. It was a Monday morning which meant that nobody was in Diagon Ally, leaving both Y/N and Fred sitting behind the till. Fred was in the middle of telling Y/N all about the new products that he was working on. Y/N didn’t noticed how he got distracted by her and fumbled over his words every now and then.

“It’s been a while since I’ve heard you laugh” He said quietly

“We haven’t exactly had much time to ourselves recently” She said with a sad smile

“Not since the party” Fred said. Y/N refused to meet his eye, she had attempted to push that night out of her head “I’m sorry that I haven’t spoken about it” he added

“it’s fine Freddie” She dismissed, not wanting to admit that it meant a lot to her

“It was a drunken mistake” He started “I think we should just move on and not talk about it” He said with a wary smile, not wanting to let on that he in fact wanted to do the exact opposite

“Yeah I suppose that would be best” Y/N smiled sadly, knowing that the last thing she wanted to do was forget about it.  

“You know I-”

“Morning morning!” George cut Fred off with a shout “Anyone fancy coffee?” He asked

“Not for me” Y/N said the sick feeling still evident in her stomach

“You feeling ok? When do you ever turn down coffee?” Fred laughed

“I think I’m still feeling a bit off from yesterday” She lied

“If you’re coming down with something you really should go home” Fred said with a concerned look

“I’m not, I think I just ate something dodgy” She said. Fred opened his mouth to speak when her phone cut through the shop “Sorry I’ve got to get this” She apologised walking a little away from the counter as she answered the phone.

“Hi is that Y/N Y/L/N?” The lady said 

“Yeah it is” She answered

“It’s Lorraine from St Mungo’s, we can fit you in on Thursday, if you are still interested” she said, her tone was kind and it made Y/N feel at home

“What time?” She asked

“11, Is that okay?”

“I’ll be there” Y/N confirmed.

Y/N made her way back towards the twins who looked at her in confusion. She sat herself down without another word. Knowing that she didn’t want them to start grilling her with questions. Y/N decided to talk to George separately later, she didn’t want to get Fred involved.

-----

George was restocking the love potions carefully when Y/N tapped him on the shoulder.

“I need to ask you something” she said

“What’s up?” He asked turning to face her

“I need to take Thursday off” She said quietly not wanting to draw Fred’s attention

“Is everything okay?” George asked noticing how she picked at her nail varnish

“Yeah I just have an appointment” She said unsure of what else to say

“I’m sure me and Fred will manage” George grinned slightly, turning back to the potions. “Although as thanks for being so understanding you can restock these” He grinned thrusting the box into her hands. With a laugh Y/N took over.

-----

The shop was quiet all day, yet Y/N kept herself busy. She knew the moment she stopped she would think, and she didn’t want to think about anything. She had managed to avoid both the twins most of the day, she just wasn’t feeling up to being sociable. At the end of her shift she grabbed her bag and her coat and made her way towards the door.

George pulled Y/N aside just as she was making her way outside “Is everything ok?” He asked, looking her up and down with a concerning eye

“Yes of course it is” She smiled “Why do you ask?” She asked nervously

“I had a phone call from St Mungo’s, you had the shop phone as you’re secondary number” He explained “They wanted to confirm your appointment for Thursday” He said

“They didn’t tell you what it was did they?” She asked quickly panic beginning to rise up 

“No, but it sounded serious” George said “I’m your friend. What’s going on” he asked

“It’s just a check up” She lied

“Didn’t sound like it” he said “I’m worried about you”

Y/N studied her shoes closely, George said her name once more, she lifted her head up and looked at George

“I’m pregnant” She said quietly holding his gaze

“Oh Y/N” he sighed “Are you-” he trailed off unsure of whether to ask the question which was on his lips.

“Yeah I am” She answered knowing exactly what he was going to say

“Do you want me to come with you?” he asked,

“No I’ll be okay” She smiled slightly  “just please don’t tell anyone” She added

“I promise, my lips are sealed” George said with a sad smile

[wellbelesbian]

for the @carry-on-aspec-fest, here’s my fic about asexual greyromantic Agatha, using the prompt community and support.

read on ao3!

Agatha leaves the keys to the goat shed to the dryad, and sets off walking.

She doesn’t know where he’s headed, just that she needs to get away from Watford and clear her head.

The painful lump in her throat doesn’t seem to want to budge though, and her mind keeps replaying the day’s earlier events. Niamh’s regular weekly visit, smiles and blushing as she checked over the new kid and another nanny Agatha suspects is pregnant, though she’s still learning the ropes of goat care, and then their hand-held walk back to Agatha’s cabin, where Agatha burned their pizza and Niamh failed to magic it better, but it was still okay. They were going to spend the afternoon together in the cabin, watching trash tv while Agatha tried to find a nail polish colour that suited Niamh.

And then, she isn’t sure how it progressed, but they were kissing, and Niamh was touching her, and Agatha slowly began to freeze up, until Niamh pulled away and asked what was wrong, and… Well, she didn’t really know. But she had to say something...

“I don’t think I feel that way about you.”

She knew that wasn’t what she meant to say, not the right words to explain the complicated feelings swirling inside her. But the damage was done, and before she could take it back, Niamh had packed up her stuff and walked out. She had barely said a word, her expression had been neutral. That hurt the most- that she didn’t cry, or argue, or throw out accusations. She didn’t fight for her, which meant she doesn’t care.

Agatha looks up and realises she’s in the centre of the nearby town. She takes a seat on a bench opposite some shops and considers texting Niamh, but she doesn’t know what to say.

Just as she resolves to just bite the bullet and trudge home, somebody shouts her name.

She looks up, expecting to see Niamh, but instead, she spots a short girl with pink hair barrelling towards her.

Trixie.

She’s followed by Keris and another girl that Agatha recognises, Philippa.

“Agatha!” Trixie trills again, reaching her and pulling her into a hug. Agatha had forgotten how touchy Trixie could get, but she strangely doesn’t feel uncomfortable about it.

The other two reach her and greet her with a little less enthusiasm, Keris murmuring a “hi” and Philippa asking her how she is. She says, unconvincingly, that she’s fine.

“It’s been so long!” Trixie grins. “We’re going to spoons, you should come!”

Agatha distantly tries to remember the last time they spoke, and can’t. They were never exactly close… To be honest, Agatha never really spoke to anyone aside from Simon and Penny, and her Normal friends.

But for some reason, she agrees.

><><>< 

They’re crammed into the corner of the local Wetherspoons (Agatha touches the sticky table and can almost hear her mother’s disdainful voice, and the thought makes her press further into the itchy, worn material of the seat out of spite), tipsy on something purple and fizzy that Philippa ordered two pitchers of, and honestly speaking a little too loudly than is courteous to those around them. Thankfully, it’s a Thursday afternoon, so by the time Trixie is collecting their dessert orders, the area has cleared out, and there’s nobody left to angrily shush Keris when she gets too heated on a subject.

Which means she has absolutely no shame when she leans over her bowl of ice cream and winks at Agatha as Philippa finishes up a dramatic recounting of her last terrible date, exaggerated voice acting and all. Agatha now knows that when Philippa left Watford, it was because she lost her voice. She got it back, and is relishing its use. She also shares that she got into the exclusive Circe’s College at her university, and is studying magical medicine, hoping to help others who have lost their magic due to illnesses or curses. Agatha wonders if she should put in a good word with her dad, but he doesn’t know the first thing about curses.

“Don’t take this as an insult, but I always knew you were gay,” Keris stage-whispers. “Or, I suppose I suspected.” Agatha isn’t offended, but she can’t deny the declaration confuses her.

“How?”

“Well, you were never really into Simon, were you? I dated this guy for a couple of weeks when I was, like, fourteen, because I thought I was into him, but then he tried to kiss me and I panicked, and realised I had totally misread the situation, and I just saw him as a friend.”

“Panicked is an understatement,” Philippa adds. “She slapped him across the face.” She mimes it out while Trixie cackles.

“I apologised!” Keris shrieks indignantly.

A waiter wiping down a nearby table shoots them a dirty look, and Agatha tips her head back to down what’s left of her glass.

“Anyway,” Keris continues, unabashed, “turns out it was just compulsive heterosexuality.”

Agatha has no idea what that means, but nods and hums in awkward agreement.

“Did you like Simon?” Trixie butts in, topping up her glass. Agatha sighs.

“Not really, I suppose. But… I don’t know if I like girls either.”

“Don’t you have a girlfriend?”

This is exactly the topic she had been enjoying ignoring, but the stares she’s getting clearly warrant an explanation.

“I don’t know. We had a fight.”

“Oh, Aggie…” The nickname is new, but Agatha allows it as Trixie pulls her into a hug.

“I just don’t know if I like her that way. I like spending time with her, and sometimes I’m okay with kissing, but sometimes I’m not. And I don’t think I like anything further than that. I’ve only ever been intimate with Simon, which was a train wreck, but I just feel like I wouldn’t like it.”

“Well how do you know you don’t like sex with girls if you’ve never tried it?” The question earns Trixie a sharp elbow to the ribs from Keris.

“How do you know you don’t like boys if you’ve never been with one?”

“Point taken.”

Philippa’s brow scrunches up in confusion.

“How do you know?”

"Well you can just tell, can’t you?” Keris shrugs. “When you look at someone and feel your heart beat faster, when you think about doing that with them and realise you like what you’re picturing…” At that, she wags her eyebrows suggestively, which doesn’t sit right with Agatha. When nobody else calls her out on it, she quietly speaks up.

“Isn’t that… a little creepy?”

“What?”

“Thinking about somebody… Like that.”

The others just stare at her.

“How?

“I thought that was normal.” Philippa states.

“Me too. Crowley, Ags, I’m not just talking about some hardcore sexual fantasies. I mean like kissing, going on dates, adopting a cat together.”

Trixie’s face lights up.

“You want a cat?”

“Not the time, babe. But yeah, in your case, it is okay to think about sleeping with people, so long as you still treat them respectfully. Especially if that person is your girlfriend.”

Agatha must still look put out, because Philippa pipes up again.

“Are you telling me you’ve never looked at somebody and thought about being with them? I certainly thought about Simon from time to time.” Her cheeks go a bit pink at that, prompting Trixie and Keris to both burst out laughing. Pippa shyly smiles down at her drink, and Agatha recalls that was certainly not pleased about Philippa’s crush on Simon when she was dating him, but now she doesn’t really mind. The mean voice in the back of her head pops up to tell her that’s Baz’s problem now, and Philippa would be well within her rights to fight him for Simon’s hand, after everything Baz put her through.

She’s pulled out of this train of thought when the others finish up their laughing fit, Keris slapping the table hard enough to make her glass shake.

“You’ve never thought about sleeping with anybody?” Trixie asks. “Not even somebody other than Simon?”

“This is definitely too private a discussion to be having here and now.” Agatha declares. She gets up and heads to the bathroom, which is blissfully empty, and splashes some cold water on her face, which feels like it’s burning up, from both embarrassment and the alcohol. Agatha doesn’t drink regularly, and knows she can’t handle more than one vodka without saying something she normally wouldn’t. Considering the conversation she just had… what the hell was in those pitchers?

She thinks about her past relationships. Sacha doesn’t really count, they were only thirteen at the time, and they never did anything but hold hands. Agatha never even invited him over- he was Normal, what would her parents think? Then scratch off Simon, because thinking about him gives her a headache. So that leaves the boys she dated in California. They were all nice- they let her borrow their lecture notes and invited her to parties and taught her how to surf, and she did kiss them, though looking back, she isn’t sure there was ever any real desire behind it. And she’s certainly never fantasised about it happening before or after the fact…

She storms back to the table. The girls have finished their desserts, but don’t look like they plan to leave anytime soon. Philippa is already flicking through the savoury menu again. Keris is on Trixie’s lap, bickering with her about something.

“The landlord never has to know-“

“He will know! We can’t hide a whole cat, Trixie!”

Ignoring their debate, Agatha slams her hands down on the table.

“Tell me right now that you’re joking.” She demands.

“About getting a cat?”

“About fantasising about people! That’s weird! Right?”

She’s met with silence. Silence, which just stretches on and on...

Agatha meets their eyes, one by one. “You’re telling me that’s normal?

Trixie coughs awkwardly.

“I mean, I assume it is for most people…” The other two nod in agreement.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Sit down, Aggie. It’s not a big deal, don’t worry about it!”

“It is to me!” She lets herself be pulled back down into their booth. “What if this is the problem with Niamh and I? I don’t…” She clutches at her head, messing up her hair but not having it in her to care, and makes a sound closer to a growl than anything else. Is this how Simon used to feel when he would start huffing and puffing? “I want to be with her! But I don’t want... I don’t like all these relationship things. Kissing and cuddling is sometimes okay, sex isn’t. And I don’t think I would want to live with her.”

“That’s okay,” Keris says gently. “You can like and dislike different parts of a relationship.”

Agatha pulls her legs up to her chest, not caring about her shoes on the seat, and rests her chin on her knees.

“I feel like I want half a relationship. Something between friends and girlfriends.”

She lets her head tilt down until she’s staring at her shoes, vision blurring with brimming tears. A moment passes, then she feels a hand rubbing her back comfortingly. Trixie- she’s somehow wedged herself between Agatha and the side of the booth, where she wasn’t a moment ago. Agatha suspects she climbed over the table. She doesn’t raise her face- the only thing more mortifying than talking about her relationships is crying in front of people.

“You can do that.” Trixie says, quietly. “You can have a relationship on your own terms, you don’t have to conform to what society tells you is necessary for friendship, or romance. Just… Do what makes you happy.”

“It’s not fair on Niamh.”

“Do you know that?” Philippa asks, sat on her other side. “She might understand. I bet she’ll at least try to, to make you happy and comfortable, if she cares. Do you think she cares?”

“I don’t know. When we fell out, she didn’t say anything. She just got up and left. She didn’t even seem upset.”

“That can show its own kind of sadness.”

She didn’t fight for me, not like…” Realisation hits her like a bag of bricks, and all at once she realises what an idiot she’s been. “Not like Simon did.” She lifts her head and scrubs at her teary eyes angrily. “Why the fuck am I comparing her to Simon? Why am I making myself the damsel this time? Fuck this, I’m going to call her, I’ll fight for her.” She pats down her pockets in search of her phone, until Keris plucks it from where it was sitting on the table.

“Maybe sober up first.”

“Ugh. Fine. But only because you tend to be smart about these things.”

><><>< 

The next morning, Agatha wakes up to texts from three unknown numbers. As she shuffles around her kitchen in the red glow of the rising sun, boiling the kettle and searching for some ibuprofen for her battered head, she reads them.

The first messages:

Fight for her! I believe in you!

This is Pippa btw

It was great to see you. The three of us meet up at that spoons at the end of every month. You should come next time!

From the second number is a screenshot of an animal shelter’s website, displaying a calico cat. No additional contact leads Agatha to believe that this is from Trixie, and probably means she and Keris will have a cat before long.

The third set of messages:

hey, it’s Keris. I took your number from your phone, i hope you don’t mind. i did some googling last night, and i thought these articles might be helpful. whatever this is, i wish you well. hopefully we’ll see each other again soon <3

Attached are a few links. Agatha clicks the first link, reading the title: What Does A Queerplatonic Relationship Look Like?

She sips her tea and reads. She does some googling of her own. Sends Keris a message back thanking her, and warns her of her imminent new cat.

The goats will need feeding soon, but she’ll know it’s time when she can hear them shouting. Now, in this quiet moment, she calls Niamh.

[a-cluttered-gordon-freeman]

Unclouded Days, because I'm not an idiot and I definitely remembered this story exists, part 3.

Part 1 | Part 2

"If I wanted to have a family... I'd have it with Alyx... Or Barney... But for right now...."

Gordon looked up from his journal. Taking a glance at his clock, he noted the date and time. 6:37 a.m. on a cold Thursday, April 13.

It had been a whole 2 months since he last visited Alyx and Barney. Gordon could remember the chill of the incoming blizzard as he trudged through the snow, and he remembered the chill coming back home afterwards.

His cabin was a safe haven away from the chaos of the society he helped create. Gordon wanted nothing to do there. He wanted to be by himself, for all too long he had been surrounded by people and he couldn't stand it. He thoroughly enjoyed the moments spent being away from everyone, where he was on his own, doing whatever. Nobody would boss him about. He wouldn't have to fight.

Barney had brought up a good point, but by accident. Gordon had mocked Barney by making such claims as having a family. And with Barney asking if he had one, Gordon spent long nights thinking about it.

No, he didn't have one, but Gordon couldn't deny that he had thought about having one, and having some kids of his own. He was still young enough to, but with whom? Barney would say yes, he and Gordon were always intimate with each other and would be asked constantly at Black Mesa when they'd marry. But it'd rule out children, as niether of them could reproduce with each other. Alyx would be uncertain about getting married, probably, mostly because she didn't know to the fullest what it meant. And niether of them felt a strong attraction towards each other, so would it even be considered a real loving relationship?

Gordon took another look at the clock. 7:15 a.m.. Temperature dropped a few degrees in the cabin. He sighed.

Another night wasted.

Closing the journal, Gordon stood up and stretched before opening the window to let it the sun and some fresh air. He stared outside, some animals crossing in and out of his vision, the leaves from last fall stuck down under the remaining snow. It was cold out, but the kind of cold one craved for in the spring. A nice and peaceful morning with a slight chill, the forestry just now waking up with snow melting around, providing nutrients to the life nearby.

He felt tired. Not unusual, as he lost quite a bit of sleep since that week in February. But Gordon couldn't fall asleep.

It was the entire point of that journal. To write his thoughts until he felt as though he could sleep. Some nights he considered heading back over to Eli and Kliener, maybe chat a bit. But being 40-something miles away would mean he'd arrive there sometime by noon. Other nights he considered working on some projects he laid out. But that would mean Gordon would have to turn on the other lights- all that artificial light would keep him up more than the red-light alarm he used to write in his journal. More often than not Gordon would just sit at his desk, writing away from 8 in the evening to 7 in the morning. The rare nights were when he didn't write in his journal, but instead bathed in the pitch black darkness.

Writing in the journal helped though. Gordon wouldn't have to worry about making sense to anyone, as long as it made enough sense to him. No need to appropriate a sentence, give it structure. It was a place where he could write what he was feeling, with no worry of harming anyone else.

Though sometimes Gordon wished he could actually tell someone, get advice or some help. It would have been useful as hell for him.

To ask for help gave Gordon the feeling of uselessness, a feeling he had been trying to avoid hard. To be told to do a thing gave him a purpose. So he did things that made him feel useful- took care of alien enemies for those that couldn't, provided backup to those who could, saved humanity, rebuilt society. Gordon did it all. There was no way he was going to ask anyone for help. He'd feel guilty as hell.

Gordon decided that he was done thinking such thoughts. And he had also decided that he would relax with a nice, warm shower, taking some time to ease off some stress.

Silence had been filling the lab. It was as if quiet things could become quieter, if it didn't make sound then it would start making other things stop making sound.

Alyx and Barney found it uncomfortable. The silence was deafening, and they could hear their thoughts much too clearly. It also provided a sort of laziness, a feeling of boredom, to the lab. A place once bustling with life and loud noises now only inhabited by two people with nothing better to do that they hadn't done forty times before.

"What if we went out of town for a bit?" Barney broke the silence, startling Alyx, who had been slowly falling asleep.

"What do you mean? To where?" She stretched.

"To Gordon's."

"I don't know, would he even like visitors right now? We have no way of asking him."

"Surprise visit?"

"We can't ask him, Barney! We've got no way to talk to him." Alyx rested her head on the table, letting out a drowsy sigh.

"I know where he lives." Barney said, causing Alyx to look over at him. "He had told me an approximation, he lives east near the giant trees."

"In the shack?"

"Yeah."

"Barney, thats forty miles away. We'd have to start early morning to arrive at his house with some daylight left. And besides, there is no way we'd be able to spend the night there, it has four rooms- a bathroom, a tiny bedroom, a kitchen and a main room."

Silence filled the lab once more. Alyx had a point, it was already too small for one person, much more with three. And there would be no way of confirming with Gordon if they could even get there- if anyone else saw them leave, and it would be a given that many people would see them leave, then Gordon's privacy would be violated by everyone else knowing where he lived.

It'd be rude to arrive uninvited, and unpleasant if he wasn't there or was too busy to let them in.

"Can't you talk to him?" Barney stared at Alyx, who sat up with exhaustion.

"How do you think I would be capable of that?"

"With that weird vort-connection-thingy you two have."

She took a moment to think. "I'm... Not entirely sure. I don't think I can."

"Should we ask a vortigaunt?"

Gordon finished dressing and took a seat on his bed. He was disappointed. His bath hadn't helped to relieve any stress whatsoever, instead he was convinced it added more and made it worse.

Which... Isn't good when you are a sleep-deprived physicist who has just been to a version of hell and back at one moment and wiping the enemy off the face of the planet.

His clock now read 9:00 a.m. exact. He could take a walk around the forest, or maybe cook up something.

Or, instead, he could lay in bed, the window open, the covers over him. Which is what Gordon did.

It made the annoying sleeplessness much worse but one could not deny the relaxing comfort it brought. And slowly, just so slowly, Gordon began to drift off to sleep.

"You can communicate feelings and pain without words, but you cannot talk to the Freeman directly." The vorts had answered, causing a sigh from Alyx and Barney.

"Well, then, fuck how are we supposed to get him now?" Barney huffed.

"We wait until he decides to come over." Alyx replied, getting up to go back to the lab.

"Have either of you decides to meet the Freeman yourselves?" A vort inquired, walking up to Alyx and Barney.

"No." The both of them responded.

"It'd be rude to walk up to his house uninvited, seeing as others could follow us." Alyx look over at the vortigaunts, who gave the appearance of understanding.

The two left the vortigaunts and returned to their eerily quiet lab, where boredom struck again.

Gordon shot up, panting hard. Beads of sweat trailed down his face, his heart and mind racing. He glanced at the clock.

5:21 p.m. on a now warm April 13.

Gordon took a second to calm down. He couldn't remember what had caused him to be so hyped up. Was it a nightmare? Bad memory?

What ever it was, it was gone now. Gordon could be thankful for that at least.

Chest still pounding, Gordon took a second to gain his bearings and calm down. He found it extremely difficult to do such on his own. As a result, he went out on a walk. He found it best to take in the nature, listen to the trees and wildlife.

As much as Gordon would have liked to hunt, a gun would raise back past feelings of fear, anger and pain that the Resonance Cascade and the Uprising caused. He couldn't stand to hold such a weapon nowadays, the only reason he'd have one anymore is for safety purposes. But even then, Gordon would much rather fight with a knife.

Bored with his little house and, unfortunately, the forestry around him, Gordon set out to the lab. It was best for an escape, as he wasn't feeling all that great by himself.

It was daybreak by the time Gordon arrived at White Forest. He had taken some time to visit Eli and Kleiner, and had also gone for a bit of shopping in the main town. Once done with that,he made his way to the lab.

"Hey Barney."

Barney turned around and was greeted by Gordon.

"Gordon?"

"Yeah, I'd hope so. How have things been?"

Barney smiled. "Its been good. And you?"

"...not good." Gordon sighed and looked down a bit. "Haven't been getting good rest."

"Would you like to spend a few more nights here? At the lab with Alyx and I?"

"Yeah... I'd appreciate that thanks..."

Barney took Gordon's hand and led him to the lab, where Alyx greeted them both with an excited smile.

Gordon got set up in his old room again. Sitting upon his bed, he stared at the ceiling in silent contemplation. Closing his eyes, he began to silently cry, for no reason he could find.

When Alyx stepped into the room, she caught a glance of the tired and teary-eyed man. She took that as a moment to sit next to him and offer weak support.

Gordon glanced over to her and wiped off his eyes. "S-sorry..." he muttered weakly, his voice shaky as hell.

Alyx smiled. "No need to be sorry. Just let it all out."

END OF PART 3

---------

Heyo! Its yours true. I need help to try to make it towards the end by offerring your support for the story and reblogging/asking more about it/ messaging me! Rb>likes, and the reblogs offer me more motivation to continue writing the stories, and same would go for my ravenholm comics, that you can read at @returntoravenholm-awgag ! I'd appreciate all the support I can get from anyone! Thank you!

-marc

[theouijaboard]

Seance Live Event - 12.13.2021, 23:30 - 02:15 GMT

Timestamp: Thursday, November 8th, 1888, late evening

Location: Muiris Doyle’s parlour 

Led by: Muiris Doyle 

With: @billxbarker, @inventorlee, @detectiveabbasi, @ofwhatsleft, @vanexglorious, @xcarringtonxbishopx

Transcript below the cut. The following has undergone minor edits for clarity and continuity’s sake.

Muiris Doyle

Muiris was tired, and a little bit apprehensive. His previous attempts to commune with the dead had, frankly, resulted in disaster, and a pain in his frail chest that had taken much longer to heal than when he was a younger man. He hadn’t been eager to return to his craft, but the spirits were loud. And so, he had invited a select few to his parlour, and sat to wait, hoping that tonight would not result in harm for anybody.

“Thank you for coming,” he said, his voice quiet and deadly serious. “Please take a seat.” There were chalk markings on the floor now, a clear circle. It was clear he was taking no precautions.

Bill Barker

The invitation had ben unexpected. Bill did not hold with such nonsense, nor did her particularly want to be there. Still, he saw a glimmer of opportunity - a chance to watch, to learn. And so, he offered a cigar to all in attendance, and fell into a seat, lighting his own with a matchstick.

Kai Lee

Kai was nervous. The aura radiated from him in waves, in the apprehensive flash of his gaze that flickered around the room detailing each aspect. Shadows from listless sleep darkened a once bright and cheery gaze into something grave and grounded. Perhaps this was a mistake. Adalet had told him of her own experience at the last gathering and Kai couldn't help the little blossom of hope that had bloomed in his chest. Hope and fear at what awaited. Clutching a little wooden box fashioned with gears and gizmos within he took a seat to the strange man's right at his request.

Ayda Abbasi

If she was to define her role at the moment, it would be that of an active observer. The detective had not expected an invitation, nor did she hold a particular belief in the supernatural. Skeptical as she may have been, Ayda sat in her seat, casting a glance to those around her.

Nathaniel Bonetto

Nathan beamed, his smile a bit too wide for the man giving instructions or the demeanor of the rest of the guests. But he had heard of what had happened at seances past, and if this old man could give Nathan a glimpse at the unknown, of something he had been grasping to get even the smallest glimpses of his entire life, it will have been worth everything. He nodded politely to the person who took seat next to him, feet eagerly tapping under the table.

Cora Edevane

the invite had been a surprise, but one that Cora would've been foolish to turn down. Or so she felt. She'd been restless these last few days, after her meeting with Lucian. Less sleep, more headaches, more flutters of movement at the edges of her vision... in the dim light of a candlelit mirror. Imagined perhaps, but they left her feelling uneasy and more than a little caged-in. So she'd come here, if only because something in her gut told her she should. That feeling had rarely steered her wrong. Cora sat to Bill's left, merely because the seat was empty and he was the only familiar face in the group so far, and gave everyone present a small nod of greeting.

Carrington Bishop

He had accepted the invite for one reason - information. He knew the power of malevolent spirits and demons. He had seen it first hand. He had even sent many of them back to the abyss where they belonged. So as Carrington arrived, he was careful not to smudge the chalk circle as he took his seat, nodding to those around him.

Muiris Doyle

Once all were seated, Muiris lit the candles, solemnly. “Once the seance begins, nobody is to rise before the spirits are sent back beyond the veil. Too many take risky chances with the dead. I will not be taking any chances here tonight.”

Kai Lee

He fidgeted, nerves and apprehension at being in a space of such unknowns making him restless in his spot. Staring at the contraption he'd set down on the table in front of him he began to wonder what irrational sense had driven him to these desperate lengths for answers. Taking in a few in the group, the only person he recognised was Bill, to whom he offered a little nod of acknowledgement before looking once more to Mr Doyle.

Bill Barker

He couldn't say he was particularly excited, or nervous. However, he gave those he knew, Kai and Cora, a solemn nod of welcome. It hardly seemed the time to exchange pleasantries.

Nathaniel Bonetto

The dark words fell over him, but Nathan was quick to shake off the cold feeling they left. He had been to many a medium. The ominous nature in the man's voice was all part of the job, he decided. Still, Nathan's eyes wandered to the other participants in tonight's event.

Carrington Bishop

He knew a few of the faces around the table, most by reputation only. He noted the calm of some, and the nervousness of others. Carrington himself seemed to merely be waiting, as if he'd done this many times before.

Muiris Doyle

Muiris took his seat, and immediately, it was as though all light was extinguished, even the moonlight streaming in through the window. The world went black for all in the circle, save for the dim lights from the candles.

Bill Barker

Bill craned to look out of the window, frowning. Was this the norm for things like this?

Kai Lee

The silence of the room was broken by a shaky breath, a mild attempt to calm himself in the face of whatever awaited beyond. He tried in vain to look for some sort of contraption or device to explain the sudden disappearance of light, some sort of a rational explanation in the face of something vast and unknowable.

Ayda Abbasi

Well this was certainly an elaborate performance. She was undeterred by the dim light, surmising that it was most likely a trick, one she may not understand at the moment, a way of creating suspense for those in attendance.

Carrington Bishop

Ah, yes... the dimming of the light.  He didn't envy the medium, or their abilities (if they were genuine), one bit. Nor did feel pity for those who let such things frighten them. Fear was a weakness, and it drew evil things to it like (ironically enough) a moth to a candle flame.

Nathaniel Bonetto

He understood the behavior. The tricks of the light, the darkness. And yet, his head was still pulled to the pitch black window, a short breath escaping his lips.

Muiris Doyle

A ghostly image is conjured upon the table - a clockwork soldier, marching around the circumference. When it reaches Kai Lee, it stops, and turns, and looks up, face contorted into a sinister grin. A grin mirrored on the face of Muiris Doyle.

Kai Lee

He was struck, staring at the visage on the table one he knew was tucked away in his workshop not least thirty minutes from here... Staring at the soldier and then at Muiris he couldn't help the flood of questions. How had it gotten here? Who had brought it? What kind of trick was this? The silence stretched out and Kai opened his mouth, shaky fingers gripping in tight fists under the table as he tried and failed to utter words into the ominous void that had settled in the space. "I-I... I would very much like to know w-w-who you are" his voice wavered and after a moment he added a hasty if polite addendum "if you would p-please."

Bill Barker

Bill leaned forward, both elbows on the table. This was certainly interesting.

Cora Edevane

Her eyes narrowed, the only change of her expression, as the image materialized on the table. It could be an elaborate illusion, all smoke and mirrors... but Cora watched the fear in the young man's eyes as the image stopped before him. That was real. She tilted her head, watching curiously as he finally found the courage to speak. Good lad, she thought to herself before settling in to observe.

Muiris Doyle

“My friend,” Muiris speaks Jovially, but there is almost something mocking in his tone. “It certainly took you long enough.” Muiris cackles in delight, the ghostly automaton dropping to its back, rocking in hysterical glee. “Who, who, who. The question isn’t who - it’s what what what.”

Kai Lee

Friend? Did he know who this... thing that spoke was? But the way in which it addressed him set something unnatural and uneasy crawling under Kai's skin. There was fear plain to see in his eyes but as he sat forwards to inspect the clockwork soldier his brow furrowed, a pang of curiosity stirring him to inspect against all better judgement to find a logical, rational solution to this situation. Explaining why he gingerly poked his index finger towards the soldier half-expecting to meet resistance but finding nothing but cold air. He waved his hand through the space again, confusion apparent as it reformed in the space "then what are you? Why won't you leave me in peace to complete my work?"

Muiris Doyle

“What’s in it for me?” The soldier’s mouth moves as the words escape Muiris’ mouth, and it crosses its arms, fixing Kai with an accusatory glare. “Your work is such fun. What can you give me that will make me stay away?”

Carrington Bishop

The priest sat forwards just a bit, the first glimpses of concern tightening the edges of his eyes. Don't offer it anything he tried to convey without speaking. Don't bargain. Never bargain...

Kai Lee

"I don't know... peace? A place of eternal joy or whatever crockery they tout that you supposedly get on the other side." He paid no mind to any other at the table, they had drifted away into a sphere of existence that mattered not, only the little figure in front of him that moved with such strange and unnatural freedom it disconcerted him greatly. "There's... I could give you a lot but I don't think it would be much use to you... Considering you're... well... dead. What do you want?" he paused a thought coming to him then, a flare of something dangerous subduing the fear that had restrained him previously why did it have to be the only one to benefit from this? "And what could you give me in return? Could you tell me how I might speak with-- with my brothers?"

Bill Barker

Bill remained impassive, unreadable, but he took a slightly deeper drag on his cigar than he normally would.

Nathaniel Bonetto

A hand had made its way over Nathan's mouth. He inched closer to the table as the conversation went on. This man had lost a sibling too. He saw the pain in his eyes. He felt it in his own heart.

Cora Edevane

She wished she had a cigarette, if only to have something to occupy her hands, but someone had taken the last one and not replaced them. Bastard. Maybe she should start lacing them with arsenic.

Muiris Doyle

"And what if that means nothing to me? What will you offer me then?" Muiris calls out in a sing-song voice. The Soldier sticks its tongue out, thumbs at its temples, waggling them mockingly. Once Kai mentions his brothers, the soldier sighs. It’s look of boredom is replicated perfectly upon Muiris’s face. “I don’t care about that,” he waves a hand dismissively. “But keep trying. I would so like to have some friends to play with.”

Kai Lee

There was an ebb of frustration at these antics, and Kai's hands trembled in restraint having settled to grip the arms at the end of his chair to stop himself from rising as Muiris has instructed. "This is not a game. My life... my work... my family--- It's not some sick game." Pain etched itself visibly into his features and straining his voice, "I don't care if you help me or not... I'll reach them if it's possible."

Muiris Doyle

“One day,” the soldier says dreamily. “Maybe one day soon.”

Bill Barker

Not if he had anything to do with it.

Kai Lee

Kai trembled with an unrestrained urge to leave his seat, to swipe the phantom from existence but as he'd learned the hard way. This spirit would do what it wished, apparently he would have no say in its antics.

Cora Edevane

She'd heard enough vague threats in her lifetime to recognize one when it presented itself. They were a double-edged sword, meant to both frighten away and provoke one to act. Much like the Ripper's letters had done. She admired the young man's tenacity however, despite his fear. Perhaps he was someone she should acquaint herself with. Eventually.

Ayda Abbasi

if a moment ago she was trying to decipher how the man managed to pull off such a convincing and elaborate illusion, Ayda now looks at the inventor, feeling something akin to pity for him. Whatever this was, it was cruel, her gaze traveling to Mr. Doyle at the vague threat.

Carrington Bishop

Vaguery and cruel provocation. Such was the way so many of these things went. But the young man kept his head in the end. Mostly. That showed strength of character not many possessed these days. Perhaps Carrington would pay him a visit sometime soon. His determination could prove itself useful.

Muiris Doyle

The soldier warps, like smoke in the breeze. It floats into the air, moves behind those sitting at the table and grows, until it is the size of a man. Now a hooded figure, it glided around the circle, now stopping behind the priest.

Bill Barker

He watches the hooded figure with interest. Perhaps a trick of the light? Either way, it was a relief that the conversation had moved on from Kai Lee.

Muiris Doyle

“Carrington Bishop,” Muiris’ voice is quiet, sinister, only a whisper louder than death. Ghostly hands reach forward, attempting to close around Carrington’s neck, but instead passing straight through.

Carrington Bishop

It appeared that the young man's spirit was done, and it drifted away, but only to change it's form to something else. Something far larger and far more ominous. Still the priest didn't show fear, merely watched the figure as it took a turn around the circle, only a brief glance over his shoulder acknowledging the figure once it stopped behind his chair. It was his turn it seemed. The feeling of cold hands closing around his neck was unexpected, and a muscle in Carrington's jaw flexed, but he remained as he was, still and calm, and focused on what he wanted to know. "Has anyone present in this room tonight willingly and malevolently conspired or consorted with the killer who calls themselves Jack the Ripper?"

Muiris Doyle

The figure laughs - this time, it talks on its own, with no need of Muiris. It leans forward, and though it can’t touch Carrington, it’s breath is rancid against his neck. “Not all hearts are as black as yours. Not everyone is so touched by sin.”

Bill Barker

Bill watched not the ghost now, but Carrington's reaction. An interesting game, to be sure.

Carrington Bishop

"I know my heart, spectre, and the darkness that lies within. The same darkness that lies within the hearts of all mankind." Carrington folded his hands on the table, knuckles white. "If you have no knowledge of what I ask, be gone."

Muiris Doyle

“We will talk again soon, Carrington Bishop. Until then, I will be watching.” It whispers, quiet enough that only Carrington can hear.

Carrington Bishop

He says nothing, acknowledges nothing. The muscle in his jaw flexes once more, then grows as still as the rest of him.

Muiris Doyle

The hooded figure changes again - it weakens, blurs, becomes barely tangible. It seems to be a woman, by the shape of its silhouette, but not much else is clear. It drifts, fading in and out of sight, and comes to rest by Ayda.

Cora Edevane

She watched the priest as well, the hooded figure looming over him as if they were old friends with secrets to tell one another. And perhaps they were. Priests collected more secrets than even she could hold claim to.

Ayda Abbasi

She supposed Mr. Doyle would involve her somehow. After all, an invitation couldn't have been coincidental. Ayda notes that the visage of this supposed spirit seems vague. A woman, no doubt, but vague enough for Ayda to fill in her own details - surely, that is what Mr. Doyle would like. "An impressive trick, Mr. Doyle," she turns to him, "you haven't fooled me, however. How am I to be certain that this is a spirit, and not your bluff? A trick of the light?"

Muiris Doyle

“Would any proof be enough for you?” Muiris’ voice is quieter, more vulnerable somehow. “You do not look to me when the lights go out. Do you believe me now I stand before you?”

Carrington Bishop

He sat back when the figure changed again... moved away... but as brief as the encounter had been, he tried to find the answers in what he'd been given. In it's insult, the spirit had potentially answered his question. Or not. But he tucked it away for now, and tried to settle the trembling unease that always lingered in his chest after such an encounter, as he turned to watch the rest of the seance unfold.

Ayda Abbasi

"If it is substantial," her tone remains calm, even as her eyes narrow, scrutinizing the image before her. She tilts her head to the side, surprised by the vulnerability in Mr. Doyle's voice. The teasing and prodding was gone now, replaced by what sounded almost like a plea. "Do you want me to look for you?" She sighed. She couldn't believe she was playing along. "Why haunt me, specifically?"

Muiris Doyle

The hand of the figure rises, reaching out to Ayda - to hold her hand, to touch her if they can, but it has not the strength. “I do not think anybody else has it in them to help me. To find justice.”

Ayda Abbasi

She swallows, observing the hand trying to reach for her, and she clenches her fist, fingers digging into her flesh if only to resist the urge to reach back. So many had come to her with that very request, and she has failed so many as of late. The Ripper's victims spring to mind, her stomach twisting with guilt. Her mind is racing, and Ayda sighs, asking: "Something has happened to you, then? Was it... have you crossed paths with the Ripper?"

Nathaniel Bonetto

He watched as the woman cried out for help to Ayda. She certainly wouldn't have been the first. He didn't envy Ayda's position at all.

Cora Edevane

She listened to the ghost speak, not with sorrow in her heart, but with a rising sense of anger. Anger that yet another life had been snuffed out before it's time, without ever finding justice.

Muiris Doyle

“I have. I did. I was the first. Long before Whitechapel. Long, long ago, now.”

Ayda Abbasi

That she hadn't anticipated. Her jaw was clenched and brow furrowed as the detective digested this new information. The timeline of the murders was wrong then, and a body is yet to be discovered. Ayda tried to think among the questions flooding her mind. "You know the Ripper better than anyone then," she attempted, "are there any clues we have missed that could help us identify him?"

Muiris Doyle

Muiris smiles, and there is something warm and kind, albeit sad, about the way they look at Ayda. “Trust in yourself, detective. You do not need the likes of me to tell you how to do your job.”

Ayda Abbasi

"The likes of- that hardly helps," she sighs, in a tone that reveals her growing frustration with the situation. She needed leads, not a pep-talk. "The letters, then. Why were the individuals targeted? Can you tell me that?"

Muiris Doyle

They all have their part to play in this tale. There are many loose ends to be connected.” Muiris’ head turns, eyes resting on Cora Edevane. “It will become clearer once you find where to look.”

Cora Edevane

An eyebrow arched upwards as the old medium turned to look at her, but Cora said nothing. Merely watched with an intense sort of curiosity that betrayed little else.

Ayda Abbasi

She followed Mr. Doyle's gaze, eyes settling on the woman. It was nothing substantial, only a start rather than evidence, but at this point, she would grasp at anything. This case had consumed her long enough. "Right, loose ends," she repeats.

Muiris Doyle

The ghost grows stronger, and though it shifts only a little, becoming more corporeal, it is clear it had taken on a different life - one that should be completely familiar to Nathaniel Bonetto. It is the spitting image of his mother, and when Muiris speaks, it’s with her voice.

“Foolish boy,” he (she?) chastises. “What is it you expect to find here?”

Nathaniel Bonetto

Nathaniel's eyes had been fixed on Ayda not a moment earlier. To say he had been looking forward to this would not have been an exaggeration. It was supposed to be another chance to talk to his sister. To finally figure out if she is truly okay. Instead, a bitter shrieking fills his ear. "I--" he began. He is cold and small, eyes darting away from the figure like he is a child again. "Rosie," is all he can muster.

Muiris Doyle

The ghost tuts, rolling their eyes heavenward in exasperation. "Is that who you came here for?" she sneers. "This is why children shouldn't play with what they don't understand."

Nathaniel Bonetto

"I'm sorry," he replied instinctively. It was an empty apology, one he had made thousands of times as a child. But the writer was at a loss for words. All his mother ever did for him was make him feel unimportant, alone. He held on to the sliver of hope that tonight he could be speaking with his sister. Frustration ran through him, eyes locked on his hands. "I don't know why you're here. Where's my sister?"

Muiris Doyle

If anything, the question seemed to agitate the apparition more. The image of Nathaniel's mother stood, radiating with a silent loathing. "You've been keeping her from me," Muiris said. "Even in death, she and I are parted, because of you."

Carrington Bishop

This is why children shouldn't play with what they don't understand. The words echoed in a distant memory of his own. From a different person, in a different time. Not his mother, she would never have spoken to him that way. But someone else. Someone cruel.

Ayda Abbasi

The poet had been filled with hope moments ago, and at the beginning of the evening, she might have called him foolish. Now, she watched him avert his gaze, her previous frustration replaced with anger. He didn't deserve to be spoken to in this manner, no one did. She might have to discuss it with him, the next time she finds him alone at the Britannia.

Nathaniel Bonetto

She loomed over Nathan, silently taunting him. She gnawed at his insides as she had all those years ago. But he had left and he took Rose with him. He was doing her a favor, or so he thought. Because of you. His grip on the table loosened, he felt his vision blurring, perhaps for the best. He couldn't see her. He never wanted to. "Leave. Please," he managed before his hand pat at his eyes.

Muiris Doyle

With one last, withering glare, Nathaniel’s mother fades away, replaced by…. Bill Barker.

Cora Edevane

She knew the indifference of mothers as well as anyone. Hers had simply been too weak to be cruel.

Bill Barker

Bill stares at the figure, himself, and the other Bill, the ghost Bill, the perfect replica of the man, stares back.

Muiris Doyle

“We have been bad, haven’t we?” Muiris speaks with a voice, Bill’s voice. The figure of Bill reacts accordingly, quirking eyebrows, smirking in a very Bill way.

Bill Barker

Despite being unsettled, Bill reacts as though there is nothing unusual, his face the same expression of casual curiosity as it displayed at work when a colleague visits it’s office. “I didn’t take you for a Tory, Muiris. They’re always trying to paint me as a rotten sort,” he deflects with a cool chuckle. “But I will bite.” He flicks his cigar ash, watching him own visage with interest. “I like you better like this. More handsome.” He’s stalling for time, reaching for a question that will be worth his time. “This beast that terrorises Whitechapel. Can you provide assistance in his capture? Make yourself useful somehow.

Cora Edevane

Again the spirit moved on, changed, and- Well. Now this was interesting, wasn't it? Cora watched the two versions of Bill as they watched each other, tried to keep herself from smirking as the real Bill (or more accurately, the version of Bill that chose to be here tonight) gave his spirit no quarter.

Muiris Doyle

Not-Bill leans forward, hands on table, making direct eye contact with its mirror image. “We would rather see Whitechapel run red with blood than help you.” Not-Bill glowers, and spits on the floor.

Bill Barker

Still, Bill remains unflustered, unbothered. He takes a deep drag of his cigar, and blows the smoke directly in not-Bill’s face. “Then that blood will be on your hands. Not mine.” Let it be known to all here that he asked, he tried. This was clearly going nowhere, though, and so Bill shifted tactics. “When I wake in the night, is that you? What will it take to stop it?”

Muiris Doyle

Not-Bill smiles, and suddenly his face twists, his smile wider, eyes more bloodshot, teeth sharper. “Your death,” it hisses.

Bill Barker

Bill scoffs. “How ominous.” He will think about this later. For now, he needed to keep up the facade, to look strong in the face of an opponent.

Muiris Doyle

Not Bill looks furious, but it is clear he is slipping away, ebbing into nothing. For a moment, there is silence. Then, the candles blow out, simultaneously, The air is filled with the sound of a thousand whispers, but one comes through louder than any, loudest of all to Cora Edevane.

“I know what answers you seek,” it whispers. “Ask, and I will tell you all you wish to know.”

Bill Barker

He was glad that the other him had gone. Under the cover of darkness, Bill allowed himself a momentary expression of fear. He tried to light another match, but it wouldn't strike. They were stuck in darkness.

Cora Edevane

Ominous, indeed. Just when it seemed that Bill may have gotten one over on his spirit, it was gone. Cora didn't know what she expected to happen next, or what the spirit would appear as once it was her turn. But she knew she would have a turn. And when the candles went out, casting the room into darkness, and Cora heard the voice speaking, she knew it spoke to her. She didn't question how she knew. That didn't matter. She sat very still, eyes casting around in the dark even as her heart beat a bit too fast for her liking. "Will you now?" Cora said, mostly to herself, the question rhetorical. "Are you frightened of me, little spirit? That you cannot face me in the light?" There is a hint of a smirk in her words, the question meant to provoke, perhaps to frighten. Or perhaps to protect Cora herself from any fear she might feel. But a question that didn't need an answer. Not like the one that followed. "Will the path I have chosen to walk lead me to what I seek? "

Muiris Doyle

Through the darkness, the ghost chuckled. If Cora had been intending to offend, the ghost was not biting. "There is much to be revealed by relying on senses other than sight." It warns. There is a pause after the next question, though the whispering intensifies. "You will find what you seek. And you will suffer the consequence."

Cora Edevane

"I cannot say I disagree. Perhaps we've met in the dark ourselves, hm?" The voice was... something she couldn't quite place, like a piece of music floating in tattered remnants through a noisy crowd. A pause followed, and Cora waited, resisting the urge to press her hands over her ears as the voices rose to a crescendo. Though the one remained above all the others. And the answer, when it came, was both affirmation and expectation in one. "We'll see, little spirit," she said, calm but with a slight edge to the words. A warning of her own. "We'll see."

Muiris Doyle

"You will," The voice remained calm, business like. "You will see, and you will regret."

The whispers continued to rise, louder and louder, and then, out of nowhere, came a blood-curdling scream. Suddenly, the moon shone again, flooding light into the room, and the candles burned once more.

Muiris moved to the chalk markings, bending down to scrawl an x over his drawn lines. "The spirits remain here no longer." He announced, grateful that this had been more peaceful than the last time. "If anybody wishes for a refreshment, I've tea in the drawing room."

Kai Lee

For a few moments after the lights return, Kai sat in quiet uncertainty. That had been.... quite a spectacle. Yet there was a yearning dissatisfaction in the so-called answers he had received tonight. He had little interest in the drama or gossip the other patrons had experienced nor did he particularly wish to linger. Not if his work might entail answers to the true questions he wished to ask. Pushing his chair back he rose, buttoning his coat he glanced at Muiris, then at Bill and finally at the detective, a shadow passing his features as he looked back to Muiris. "Good evening, and thank you for your time Master Doyle."

Nathaniel Bonetto

He was relieved for a moment of respite in the dark as he dried his eyes. As the other guests came back into view, he glanced around the table one last time. Others were standing up, he should too. He pushed in his chair and left without a word.

Cora Edevane

She allowed the barest flicker of a frown to move over her face in the darkness. It wasn't the ghost's words, but the whispers. They drowned out everything else, and just when Cora had started to raise her hands to her ears, to block them out, a scream pierced the darkness. And for the first time that night, Cora Edevane was truly afraid. Because she knew that scream. It had woken her too many nights to count in recent weeks. Always a nightmare, half-remembered, but always with the same end. A scream, echoing in the cold and the dark...  a scream that belonged not to the dead... but to the living. Once it was safe to leave, Cora stood and exited without a word, the echo of that scream following in her wake.

Ayda Abbasi

And just like that, it was over. The whispers had reached their crescendo and disappeared as if they never were, leaving behind a circle of witnesses. What was all the more terrifying to her, however, was the feeling of not knowing. Ayda's mind was blank, struggling to comprehend what had just happened. There was another victim. Another soul lost to the Ripper's blade. Like the inventor and the poet before her, Ayda rose from her seat. "I'm afraid I must decline, Mr. Doyle." She left without another word, reaching into the pocket of her coats, eager for the burn of cigarette smoke down her throat.

[lovecanbesostrange]

Welcome to another installment of random RRCAU fic, from the big, big universe that lives on the Ruby Lucas Harem Discord, because konako got that one random ask that time. (ask us about the insane College AU now, I dare you, we have answers you don’t even want)

So, if you follow that, have another scene. But this one is, heavy, because it’s all about the big dramatic death around the end of the second year. konako made me cry with the short snippet, so I will now repay that favor with the aftermath in a bit of a long form.

(this is towards the end of Ruby’s sophomore year at college, Granny has just died)

Ruby felt numb. If she could even call it feeling. But it’s either this or crying. And this is more helpful to get through tasks on auto-pilot. Sometimes there was the anger, now like an old friend. But it’s snapping at her friends, pounding the sandbag at the gym, running like mad on the field (Coach is a human after all, didn’t even make her do laps after clearly running the wrong plays). The last few days were a hazy blur. Food, hugging, a bit of sport, people, asking for an assignment extension.

And the phone call with Anita.

She was numb during that, too. And it was for the best. They both knew Granny wanted to be cremated. Just like her husband. But Ruby knew that she also wanted her ashes to be scattered like his. And Anita had said no. She had made arrangements for the urn to be buried. A small service and a burial. Ruby had said she’d be there.

“Whatever.”

A response Ruby knew well.

Regina and Mary Margaret had brought her to the airport. She was using up Regina’s miles again. But she didn’t argue. When she landed she thought she’d get herself to the trailer park somehow, maybe a car rental. Ruby hadn’t thought about that. There was something though. And yes, there was, Mary Margaret had told her - Eva was already waiting at the exit.

Another hug. Long. Warm. Welcoming. It brought Ruby out of the haze a bit, so new tears fell. Tears for Granny. Dead. The last bit of happy memories tied to that place her mind kept insisting on calling home.

“... you can sleep in Mary’s room and I’ll take you to the airport day after tomorrow of course.” Eva already had it planned out, telling her in the car. “Ruby? Is that all okay with you?” Ruby tore off her gaze from the scenery outside, pulling her head away from the glass of the passenger’s window.

“Can we go to the Terrace?” Suddenly the name sounded hollow. “I’d like to get a couple of things.” Maybe she would be too late. Maybe Anita had thrown everything out already.

“Right away?”

“If you don’t mind, please.”

“Of course not, honey.” Eva held the steering wheel with her left hand and put her right on Ruby’s knee, squeezing. Comfort. Reassurance. “Tell me what I can do and consider it done.”

The hint of a smile pulled on the corners of Ruby’s mouth. This was Eva. This had always been Eva, even when she didn’t understand it. She got things done for her.

Pulling up at the trailer park felt strange. For one it was because Ruby was sitting in a nice car. Not rushing through the side entrance on her bike. It was also because Ruby could count the times she’d been here in the almost past two years and every time she got away from it, the place seemed smaller and further away. But mostly, without Granny this was just a glorified parking lot with a bit of green.

Eva parked and waited. Ruby unfastened her seat-belt, but she couldn’t get out. She looked over. Ruby didn’t know if she wanted to go in alone. If she could. Was it better to have Eva there as back-up? Or was that disrespectful?

“I… would you… can you maybe come with me? I don’t know if…” She didn’t know if she could even step a foot inside or would crumble at the front door the way she had days ago in front of her dorm.

“I’m right behind you.” Eva smiled. The warm mom-smile.

Ruby didn’t know if Anita would be here now. She didn’t bother knocking though and didn’t need a key. Nobody needed a key to get in, when you knew the lock wasn’t working properly and all you needed to do was lift the front door at the right angle and push hard.

Ruby opened her mouth, but closed it immediately to not say hallo into the void. Everything looked mostly as expected. There were a few empty alcohol bottles stacked next to the kitchen sink, Anita had been digging in. But she still got herself together to not let them lie around. Maybe that was good. Maybe that was something to care about.

Suddenly her home - the trailer - looked depressing. More than usual. Granny wasn’t sitting outside or lying in bed. The tiny tv was not running. That specific background noise missing was a big deal. Sure, Granny had been in and out of the hospital, but the finality was felt.

Ruby breathed in, the hitch alerted Eva and she touched her on her back, steadied her. The smell. Oh the smell was home. The mix of the cheap laundry detergent, the sharp air freshener, the lingering scent of Granny mixed with Anita’s aggressive perfume. It smelt a bit different than she remembered, but that was probably herself missing from this equation for a long time now.

Slowly Ruby stepped towards the bedroom. The smell of Granny got stronger. Without thinking about it she sat down on the bed. The linens crisp and clean, waiting for someone to sleep here again. There were pills on the nightstand. The little tub with daily doses already in order. Ruby picked it up. Monday and Tuesday were empty, she looked at Wednesday and the morning was missing. Right, after that Granny had called an ambulance. Thursday’s pills were untouched. Thursday had been the last time she had seen her. Ever.

Anita hadn’t touched anything in here as far as Ruby could tell. It was a surprise. Maybe she didn’t know what to do with all the stuff. And maybe, just maybe, there was more emotional baggage inside of her and she couldn’t let go of her mother. She had never left either. She could have. She could have let Granny rot alone in here and not just disappear a few days at a time, but forever. And yet Anita had always come back. Despite everything.

Ruby put the pill box back down and grabbed the framed photo. It was Granny’s wedding picture. She had never stopped loving that man that barely had time to get to know his own daughter and who never knew that his memory lived in a granddaughter he never met at all. They were a handsome couple. This was one of three pictures she knew she wanted above all else.

Her hand was already under the bed, searching the shoe box stashed there. Yes. She opened it and was greeted with all the letters she had sent home the last two years. It felt like so little, but she knew it had meant much. Granny had taken the photos from some of these out and put them on the wall next to the tv. But the pictures Ruby was searching were underneath it all.

An old black and white photograph. More brownish actually, genuine sepia, grainy, worn on the edges. It was Granny as a child with her three older brothers. It was the only thing Ruby knew of, that even proved they once had been alive. Before that fateful accident. Three brothers and their father, all gone in one go.

This family was cursed. Mothers and daughters left. And Granny’s mother hadn’t made it much longer on her own. Maybe Granny and Ruby got along, because they skipped a generation between. Mothers and daughters gave each other plenty of resentment.

And then there was the third picture. Granny with her dear husband and a fancy new car. The red Camaro had been out of their price range, but on their anniversary they had gone to the dealership, got a long test drive out of it and made that a date. Granny had talked about that day a lot. Grandfather promised them a brighter future where they would be able to afford a car like that. Not just stealing fake moments, but creating happy ones for real.

That had never happened.

Granny had deserved more and yet life had rejected her. But she had held on. Despite her heart condition, the many losses of family members around her, the slipping into poverty. Granny had always held on. For over 80 years. Nobody had thought that would even be possible. So maybe it was okay to say goodbye now. Now that Ruby understood how Granny could look at a picture of her dead husband for hours and feel nothing but love.

Ruby put the frame into the shoe box, then her gaze fell onto the chair. Granny’s knitted cardigan hung over the back. She’d always worn that grey monstrosity, though it was unflattering even on her. Ruby got to her feet and picked it up. She buried her face in the fabric. Granny. Yes, she wanted this. The pictures, her own letters, the cardigan. It meant something.

Tears began to fall again. Ruby wasn’t numb at all. Breathing in all the memories came rushing back. Sitting on Granny’s lap during Christmas story time; teaching her the sacred lasagna recipe; listening to unimportant happenings at school; the encouraging words when Anita’s indifference turned into vile insults; daydreaming of long trips with fingers on the maps of an old atlas; sitting in front of Granny’s bed, eating something from the microwave and letting Granny catch her up on her soaps. There had been love.

Eva had been silent all this time and given Ruby space. Now she stepped closer and wrapped her up in her arms. Ruby hugged the cardigan and felt Eva kissing her on the head. This was goodbye. But she wouldn’t be alone.

The service was lovely, but what really got to Ruby was seeing people attending. She had thought she’d be there alone with Anita, maybe Eva in the back. But there were a few neighbors. Mrs. Johnson even gave her a quick hug, she had come by like once a month to do Granny’s hair for free, but really it was about the conversation. Nurse Wilcox had retired herself three years ago, but before she had worked at the doctor’s office Granny got her subscriptions from. She had seen the tiny ad in the paper and wanted to pay her respects, remembering one of her favourite patients.

A part of Ruby wanted to scream, because she knew burying the urn in the dirt was wrong. Even though Anita had picked a nice little headstone. Ruby knew this was money she couldn’t really afford to spend. But causing a scene in the cemetery was the last thing she would do. She’d rather run away and not attend at all, while more than a dozen people paid their respects.

There wasn’t much said between Ruby and Anita. Who cared about one more argument and hollow questions about their current living situations? Ruby would remember the way Eva kept holding her hand, let her ramble through incoherent memories and tugged her into Mary’s bed. (Something Ruby rejected by getting up at night to sleep in the treehouse, the cardigan close to her chest.)

And when summer came around, Ruby would clean a whole week out of her schedule. No summer class, no work, not anybody around. Maybe it was irresponsible to blow through a portion of her savings, but she found a car rental that could get her that red 1975 Chevrolet Camaro. And maybe it was called grave robbing, but she dug up Granny’s urn and put her on the passenger’s seat. A week on the road right up to the beach where Granny had scattered her husband’s ashes.

That would be Ruby’s last goodbye. When she finally could let go of the woman, who had mostly raised her. The road trip they had talked about in giggling voices.

Turning into the parking lot was hard. And just when Ruby doubted she could scatter these ashes alone, she spotted Regina waiting for her. She had send so many texts to her friends and called to let them know she was okay, that Regina knew when she would arrive at her destination. Regina, who had been there when Ruby had last spoken to Granny. Fitting. Granny’s final blessing.

[vcg73]

FIC: Kurt Birthday Drabbles

Earlier this week @elledelajoie left a comment on something I wrote all the way back in 2014.  I had genuinely forgotten I ever started it, but the original idea was to write 21 Kurt Hummel birthday drabbles. I had written just 7 of them, but after we chatted about it, I decided to go ahead and finish.  

If you’re not familiar, a drabble is a scene of exactly 100 words, not counting title headers. Since Chris Colfer and Kurt Hummel’s co-birthday (May 27) is coming up this Thursday, here they are. This goes definite AU at Birthday #19. Because you know I would never sentence my beloved Kurt to a life of being a doormat to people who did not appreciate and value him.

Never underestimate the power of feedback!

~*~*~*~*~

Birthday #1

Kurt’s blue eyes went wide as a frosted cupcake was set upon his high-chair tray, a single candle ablaze on its surface.  

When Mommy, Daddy, Uncle Andy, Grandpa Curtis and Grandma Eileen started singing to him, he smiled and clapped both hands hard around the tempting pile of frosting.

Kurt laughed when the sugary topping went flying and a big splatter of white abruptly decorated Daddy’s surprised face.

Everyone else started laughed too, including the startled father, who retaliated by giving his birthday boy a sticky peck on the cheek and then helped him to blow out a new candle.

Birthday #2

Kurt looked between his presents, confused.

Mommy had given him the pretty dolly he had begged for at the store. Daddy had given him a truck, not big enough to ride but too big to live with the little cars Daddy gave him at Christmas.

His parents seemed to be mad at each other.

Kurt looked at the doll, then at the truck. He smiled and placed Dolly inside the truck and began to drive her around the carpet.

Mommy and Daddy seemed surprised by his actions, but then they laughed, and Kurt knew he had figured out the puzzle.

 Birthday #3

His shoes were black and shiny, buckles on the sides and 1-inch heels on the base. He clomped over the hardwood floors, listening to the click-tap-click-tap in delight. They went perfectly with his dove gray coveralls with “Kurt” sewn on the pocket in black sequins. Mommy had made the outfit for him.

Spotting Daddy watching him, Kurt threw himself into waiting arms. Daddy’s smile looked like he had an owie but was trying to be a big boy and not cry.

Kurt hugged him. “It’s okay, Daddy.”

Burt looked surprised but hugged him back. “Yeah, buddy. I think it is.”

 Birthday #4

Ballet girls were nice. When they heard it was his birthday today, they threw him a party. Kurt puffed up with pleasure when presented with cookies, a sparkly wand and a tiara that read ‘Happy Birthday’ in shiny letters. He was not as fond of the kisses they gave, but four was very grown up, so he screwed up his face and allowed it. The teacher even let him wear the special puffy pink tutu over his little black leotard! 

 He saw Mommy and Daddy up in the gallery taking pictures, so he waved.

Kurt hoped today would last forever.

  Birthday #5

“Can I have cupcakes?”

Kurt’s mother looked up from her book. “I don’t think we have any, sweetheart.”

“Can we have some Thursday?  My birthday is the last day of preschool.”

“It is?” she said, looking surprised. “Is it your birthday already?”

He nodded seriously. “Don’t you remember, Mommy? You were there.”

She laughed. “Well, you have me there.  What kind of cupcakes would you like, sweetie? And don’t say cheesecake. Those are two completely different kinds of dessert.”

Kurt’s hopeful expression fell. “Oh,” he said, clearly disappointed. Then his face brightened again. “Chocolate?”

She nodded. “That we can do.”

   Birthday #6

“Daddy!”

Burt sat up just in time to catch the little body that launched at him. “What’s wrong, slugger?”

“It’s my birthday!”

Grinning despite the way his heart was hammering at the abrupt awakening, Burt asked, “Yeah? I like birthdays. Do I get a present?”

“No,” the boy scoffed. “I get presents!”

 Burt squinted at the clock. 3:15am. “Not until morning, you don’t.”

Kurt pouted and tried, “It’s almost morning.”

“Not close enough, kid. C’mere,” Burt pulled him into the warm bed between himself and his wife.

Kurt snuggled down and went right back to sleep.  

Burt was less lucky.

 Birthday #7

Kids had started treating him funny this year. He was too fancy, too girly, holding hands was weird.

Nobody was coming.

“I’m sorry, sweetie.”

“Am I too late?”

They jumped as a little black girl with pom-pom hair popped out of nowhere.

“I’m Mercedes,” she greeted. “We just moved here. Mom said you would have invited me if you’d known.”

“I’m Kurt.” He smiled. “Do you like tea parties?”

“Is there cake?”

Mrs. Hummel beamed. “Cake, ice cream, and Kool-Aid.”

Kurt shrugged. “Nobody else came.”

She grabbed his hand like she’d known him forever. “More for us!  Happy Birthday, Kurt.”

 Birthday #8

Kurt took a deep breath, thought for a moment, and carefully blew out the candles. All but the extra one that his parents always put on his cake.

“Aren’t you gonna finish, bud?”

He looked from Daddy over to his mother, home again, but so frail he was sometimes afraid to hug her, worried she might pop like a fragile soap bubble. He offered her the candle. “Here, Mommy. Blow it out. Maybe you’ll get another year to grow on.”

The eyes of the two adults met, then Mommy nodded. The three of them blew out the final candle together.

 Birthday #9

Barely daring to hope, Kurt came down the stairs.  Birthday cakes and presents had been Mommy’s specialty.  Daddy had forgotten his own birthday and had nearly forgotten Christmas.

Kurt gasped when he saw it, waiting, shining and spectacular against the front door.

“A bike!”

Bright green, sissy bars with foil streamers, and a banana seat. Perfect!

Burt smiled. He had scoffed a such a “girly” bike when Kurt spotted it at the toy store. But now, looking at the all-too-rare joy in his son’s eyes and feeling the approving smile his wife would have given, he nodded. It was perfect.

 Birthday #10

Buying gifts was tough when your kid always clammed up on you. A dad had to be observant.

Ten years old. A landmark like that needed something special, but the only thing Kurt seemed into was clothes. He had enough of those for ten kids.  

He’d probably like a Barbie he could change in and out of different outfits, but Burt cringed at the thought.

He did doodle pretty good though. Sure, it was mostly pictures of clothes, but that was a start.

A fancy sketchpad with a case and a hundred different colored pencils. Yeah, that was the ticket.

 Birthday #11

“Dad, where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

Kurt sighed with exaggerated impatience. He had come home from school to find Dad waiting at the truck, ordering him to get in, then not saying another word. The suspense was killing him.

“Ta-Dahhhh!”

They had pulled up in front of a nondescript brick building. “Columbus Culinary Arts?”

“You like to cook right?  Well, we’re gonna fix your birthday dinner this year with the help of a real chef. Lessons are once a week for the next couple months.”

Gourmet cooking lessons!

“Oh wow. Dad, this is amazing!”

Burt grinned. “Happy Birthday, kid.”

 Birthday #12

Last year’s surprise had gone so well that Burt had decided on a repeat. But when he saw the excitement on Kurt’s face at finding a pair of tickets inside his birthday card turn to disappointment and horror, quickly masked with a fake smile, he knew he’d goofed.

“I know baseball isn’t your thing,” he said, almost pleading. “But you’ve never seen a live game before. It’s a whole different experience. It’s a home game. We can yell and scream, and cheer our team on with thousands of other fans.”

The stiff not-smile never wavered. “Sounds . . . fun.”

 Birthday #13

Dad had bought out one of the partners at the garage this spring and now owned a majority share of the renamed “Hummel Tires & Lube”. Kurt wanted to snicker at that name, but he was proud too.

His birthday this year coincided with Friday Night Dinner. Dad had invited all the mechanics over for a potluck. They’d had Mary’s special fried chicken, Cassius’s homemade cornbread, and Davy’s mac’n’cheese. Now Dad brought out the cake.

Kurt laughed. A sheet-cake with a tow-truck and two little plastic mechanics for decoration.

“You and me kid. Partners.”

The mechanics cheered and everybody dug in.

  Birthday #14

Kurt froze when he saw tickets peeping out of his card. Not again. Noise, sunburn, unhealthy food, tacky uniforms, and Dad trying so hard to make a boring sport seem like fun.

He sighed and pasted on a smile, which quickly transformed into shock.

“Wicked?” he squeaked, staring hard at the little papers as if the printing might change if he dared to look away.

“Embassy Theater is giving regional business owners a discount this year,” Burt said apologetically. “It’s just a traveling production, not real Broadway, but I …”

His apology was cut off by a joyful teenaged hug.

 Birthday #15

“Don’t worry, son, you got this.  Just remember everything I taught you.  You got a whole year to get ready for the practical test.”

“I know.”

“And it’s okay if you don’t get it right the first time. Not everybody does.”

“I’m fine, Dad.”

“I’ll be right here waiting for you when you’re through.”

“I know that, Dad. I’ll be okay, really.”

At that moment, Kurt’s name was called and he sprang from his hard green plastic chair. His dad’s repeated reassurances were making him jumpy.

Twenty minutes later, a brightly grinning Kurt was waving his freshly minted driver’s permit.

 Birthday #16

Burt patted the giant blue bow the dealership had provided over the hood of the shining black Lincoln Navigator.  

Kurt was gonna flip! He’d passed his DMV test with flying colors and was no doubt showing off his shiny new license to all his friends at school.  

He paused. Did Kurt have any friends to share this accomplishment with? He always seemed so alone.

Maybe that’s why he had decided to spoil his son with a huge birthday gift.

It wasn’t right for such a good kid to be all alone. Maybe having his own ride would help change that.

  Birthday #17

A dozen teens gathered in Kurt’s basement to celebrate the end-of-school, non-disbanding of Glee, and Kurt’s birthday, all in one.

“Not like ten years ago,” Mercedes said to Kurt, as they watched Mike and Brittany dance.

“Ten years?”

“Your seventh? It was just you, me, your mom, and lots of chocolate cake.”

Kurt was astounded. “That was you?”

“You forgot?”

“I remember a little girl who showed up and invited herself to my party.”

“And I remember a little boy who needed a friend as much as I did.”

He squeezed her hand. “Thanks for coming.”

She squeezed back. “Always.”

 Birthday #18

Kurt stared at his birthday cake, unable to think of anything to wish for.

He was 18-years-old today, a legal adult. He had new family in Carole and Finn, his dad was on the mend, he would be back at McKinley for senior year, he had made his first visit to New York City, and he had a boyfriend! One who had just told Kurt that he loved him for the very first time.

‘I wish for next year to be as good as this,” he thought, taking a deep breath and blowing.

The flames flickered out, all except one.

 Birthday #19

Senior year had been a disaster, and now he had not gotten into NYADA, despite his well-praised audition.

“Blaine wants me to spend another year here,” he whispered. “I just can’t.”

Burt’s callused hand squeezed his neck. “Then don’t. You’re 19 now, a man. You got talents galore, work experience from the garage, enough drive for ten kids, and your mom’s life insurance money to give you a start.”

“But…”

“No buts,” Burt said firmly. “You go on to New York and grab life by the balls.”

Kurt felt his optimism rise. “Help me look for apartments?”

“You got it.”

 Birthday #20

What a difference a year made.

He’d dumped Blaine after being cheated on less than a month after leaving Lima.  He was enrolled at FIT and sharing a shoebox apartment with a fellow design student and a Broadway hopeful, but both were young gay men from small towns, and they had a lot in common.

“Happy Birthday!” Elliott shouted, tossing a handful of glittery sequins at him.

Adam came in playing the birthday song on a kazoo he had gotten from who-knows-where. “Ready for Callbacks? $20 on who gets the first hot guy’s number!”

“I already have yours. I win!”

 Birthday #21

“I have the honor of presenting your first official grown-up drink,” Adam said, smiling lovingly at his grinning boyfriend of nearly a year. He set down a martini glass with a cherry floating on top. “A Manhattan seemed appropriate.”

Kurt beamed and gave him a kiss, then took an experimental sip. “I’ve had alcohol before,” he admitted. “Mostly wine, though.  Mm, this is good!”

“I thought you’d like it. Happy Birthday, my love.  May the future bring every good thing you wish for, and never more heartache than you can handle.”

Kurt could not have asked for a better sentiment.

THE END

[spine-buster]

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 24

February 29th, 2020

Aberdeen Bloom was laying in her bed looking at her phone.  

A special Blueprint had been uploaded to the Leafs’ official YouTube page and their official website titled “Family Birthdays”.  Filmed perfectly.  Cut perfectly.  Produced perfectly.  It was only two minutes long and featured all the guys.  But the main feature was her.  

The video began as Sheldon’s speech did, except the camera wasn’t on him – it was on Brendan and Aberdeen watching him intently.  When he called out Jason’s name and Jason walked in with the cake, Aberdeen watched her own face drop and change and contort.  The camera cut to some of the guys singing – Willy and Tyson and Auston, then Zach, then Travis – and then back to her once they began cheering.  Brendan started his speech.  The camera cut to some more players.  Then it showed her speech.  The last thirty seconds of the video featured snippets of afterwards – the music playing and the guys dancing, most of them with cake in their hands; Auston shoving a giant piece of it into his mouth; Tyson grabbing Aberdeen and dancing with her to the more upbeat song like they were in the 1950s and at a party.  The closing clip was one of Aberdeen smiling from ear to ear, then one of Brendan smiling from ear to ear too as he stared directly at her.  The Blueprint logo came up on the screen.  It was over.

Aberdeen had never appeared prominently in a video from the Leafs before.  She was in the background of some of the Blueprints, usually always with Brendan and once with Kyle and Peter, but she was mostly anonymous.  Now, with this video, she was known: she was named, shown, shown dancing, and it was clearly evident she’d been with the organization for a while and that the team loved her.  To anybody watching, she seemed ingrained within the institution that was the Toronto Maple Leafs.  The fans seemed to love it – the team had won the game, after all, and had a successful Florida road trip because they also won against Florida on Thursday 5-3.  The fans thought it was cute.  She thought it was cute, too, but wondered now if people, especially people throughout the NHL, would actually recognize her instead of just walking by and ignoring her unless she stood beside Brendan.

Regardless, she went about her morning routine – washing her face, brushing her teeth, doing her hair, putting her moisturizer on.  She fed Minerva and applied her makeup.  It was a Hockey Night in Canada tonight against the Vancouver Canucks, but Brendan was letting her leave after the first period for her birthday party.  A bunch of friends were coming over for pre-drink before they left for Toybox, the nightclub where she’d be having the party (everyone she knew and loved would be there except for Siena, who couldn’t come because of school).  There would be at least twenty of them.  They’d all pitched in to get a table and bottle service.  It would all be very fun, and considering Aberdeen’s clubbing days would probably come to an end soon (serious job, serious boyfriend, serious ambition to be a writer), she wanted it to be very fun. 

Lou was taking Brendan to a dentist appointment that morning, so Aberdeen was planning to just walk to work herself.  She could get in a little later than usual – around 9:45 or 10 – since Brendan wasn’t going to be in either.  So she took her time.  She made herself breakfast.  She turned on the news.  She cuddled with Minerva.  She admired the birthday gift that arrived from Willy last night when she got home from work – he had somehow managed to track down and buy a first edition copy (literally a la 1895) of The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde, her favourite play.  He did good.  He did damn good.  Between the ring at Christmas and this, Aberdeen couldn’t believe he did that good.  

She took out her phone.

Hope you have a good practice this morning ❤️

thank u minskatt

Are you still in bed lol

love u and yes lol

love you too

don’t judge me

After a while, with time going faster than she liked, Aberdeen put on her coat, hat, scarf, and boots and made her way downstairs.  When she opened the doors of her building, she noticed a guy in a grey Canada Goose jacket and a tan messenger bag smoking almost right outside the door.  She’d never seen him before.  It was entirely plausible that he lived in the building, but he wouldn’t have come down to have a smoke.  She figured he was probably waiting for someone, and went on her merry way.

As she walked down the street, she texted on her phone and made sure to avoid any ice on the sidewalk.  The cold air gave way for a quiet morning – there weren’t a lot of people out walking.  It was also because it was later than usual morning “rush hour”.  From behind her, she heard someone cough extremely loudly – one of those loud smoker’s coughs that could be heard from a mile away.  She looked behind her.

It was the guy from outside her building.  

She felt a shiver run up her spine, and it wasn’t from the cold.  Okay.  Maybe she should give him the benefit of the doubt.  Maybe he had finished his cigarette and was walking the same way she was to his work.  Maybe they had the same route.

Maybe she should take a detour, just in case.  

She turned a corner.  It was technically the wrong way – well, not a wrong way, but it was less direct and a route that made her commute maybe five minutes longer than usual.  She waited about a minute before looking back again.  He turned the corner too.  She felt the shiver run up her spine again.

She turned another wrong corner onto Wellington Street.  Waited a few moments.  Looked back.  

There he was.  

She felt her heart beat increase rapidly.  She was being followed.  She was being followed.  She was freaking out.  She had no idea who this guy was, what he wanted from her, nothing.  She had no clue.  She increased her pace and looked for a storefront amidst all the bank buildings, and she thanked the Lord when she saw a Starbucks.  She climbed the steps and went inside.  It was pretty busy, but not busy enough that she’d be lost within the crowd.  She waited to see whether the man would just walk by or stop.

He stopped in front and lit another cigarette.  

She couldn’t believe this was happening to her.  She tried to steady her breathing as much as possible as she took out her phone and called the one number she thought to call.  

“Minskaaaaaatt, what are you—”

“—Willy?” Aberdeen asked frantically into the phone.

William noticed her tone immediately.  “What’s wrong?”

“Willy I think someone’s following me.”

“Following you?” his tone was dead serious.  

She arched her neck to look out the window and saw the guy was still there, pretending to type away on his phone.  “I—I left my apartment this morning, and I noticed this guy standing outside with a messenger bag smoking and—and I didn’t think much of it, but then I started walking down the street, and he started following me.  And so I started to walk down a different route to work just in case but he—he kept following, and now I’m in the Starbucks at York and Wellington and he’s standing outside pretending to be on the phone but he’s waiting for me and—”

“Stay right there.  I’m going to come get you.”

As if her heart wasn’t already beating rapidly out of fear, now the pace increased tenfold.  She’d called him because he was her boyfriend, because he was the first person she thought to call, but now she realized how much of a grave mistake that was.  “No – no – Willy, you can’t.  Brendan will know and—”

“Stay there and don’t leave.”

“Willy—no, Willy—” she tried, but he had already hung up the phone.  She couldn’t think straight.  She was freaking out, and not just because she was getting stalked by someone.  She should have called Brendan first.  Or Jason, or—

Well, she could text them.  She pulled up Brendan’s number first.  She hoped he’d see it before Willy could do anything.  I’m at York and Wellington Starbucks.  I am being followed by someone.  Can you please come and pick me up?  She pulled up Jason’s number, too.  I’m at York and Wellington Starbucks.  I am being followed from my apartment.  Please get someone to help me.

As she waited, nobody texted her back.  She started to become nervous.  She even sent a few more texts to Willy about getting someone to help him and calling Brendan to help deal with it but he wasn’t responding, and it just made her more nervous.  Jason – never one to leave her on read, even for the simplest of messages – hadn’t responded.  She wondered if he was already driving to practice.  Or with Jen.  Or with his girls.  Or at their school.  Or—

The man still wasn’t leaving.  

Aberdeen gulped.  She didn’t know what to do.  She couldn’t stay in this Starbucks forever even though it seemed this guy would wait that long.  If she left and continued her walk to work, should she acknowledge him?  Should she ignore him?  Should she call him out for following her?  And besides, how in the everlasting fuck did he know where she lived?!  She felt a pit forming in her stomach.  

But she went outside anyway.  Before she did, she started a video on her phone.  As she pushed open the doors from the Starbucks, she watched out of the corner of her eye as he saw her and locked his phone.  As she walked by him, he kept it in his hand.  She began to walk away, down the steps and onto the sidewalk, and she pretended to adjust her hair in her hat.  She saw he’d taken a step forward.  Her heart was racing, but she stopped walking.  She turned towards him boldly, cradling her phone against her chest so it wouldn’t seem like she was recording him.  

When he noticed that he’d been caught, a smile adorned his face.  It was probably nice in everyday life, but considering the circumstances, it was the creepiest thing Aberdeen had ever seen.  “Hey,” he greeted her with a friendly, pleasant voice.  “You know, I saw you in that Blueprint video where the Leafs bought you that birthday cake – you’re Aberdeen Bloom, aren’t you?  Brendan Shanahan’s personal assistant?” the man asked.

Aberdeen found it extremely weird that this man knew her last name.  “How do you know where I live?” she demanded.

“I just overheard the guys talking about it one night and made an educated guess,” he shrugged his shoulders, like it was the most natural thing in the world.  It made Aberdeen’s blood run cold.  “You must recognize me from the media scrums.  I was wondering if you’d like to answer a few questions for me.”

She didn’t recognize him from the media scrums, although she was sure he was there.  Having probably exhausted his good rapport with the players due to his actions (if they were anything like this), the next best thing for him was to terrorize her.  “No.  I don’t speak to the media.  You need to go through—”

Suddenly, a car pulled up to the curb, the tires shrieking against the pavement.  Another car followed just as quickly, shrieking against the pavement as it also grinded to a halt.  From the second car, William barely waited for it to stop before he got out of the passenger’s seat.  Jason followed him from the driver’s seat.  “Get in the car,” William said firmly, not even looking at her.

She noticed Brendan get out of the backseat of the first car, and came to the realization that it was the town car – Lou was driving, waving at her to get in.  “Aberdeen, get in the car,” he echoed William’s sentiments.  “I’ll deal with this.”

She ran towards the town car, opening the door quickly and stuffing herself into the backseat.  She stopped the video on her phone as she watched through the window as Brendan approached the man, who had his hands up and was shaking his head like he wasn’t doing anything wrong.  She felt the sting of tears in her eyes.  “Are you okay, Miss Bloom?” Lou asked from the front seat.  

“I’m okay,” she said.  “Just a bit spooked.”

“Mr. Shanahan freaked out when he got your text.  Almost had a heart attack, I think.”

Aberdeen nodded absent-mindedly, still watching through the window as Brendan looked like he was berating the man.  William looked exactly like he did the night she got hit by the glass – so angry but unable to formulate words – and she couldn’t tell if the redness on his cheeks was due to the cold or his anger.  Jason looked equally as angry, his head moving between Brendan and the man like he was watching Djokovic verses Federer.  When Brendan, William, and Jason dispersed back towards the cars, the man who had followed her was calling out towards Brendan in objection.  Brendan ignored him, and so did William and Jason.  He kept screaming, and Brendan kept ignoring.  

Aberdeen watched through the side mirrors as William and Jason got back in their car.  Brendan opened the backseat door and she turned her head to look at him as slipped in.  Lou began driving the second the door was closed.  “When did you notice him following you?” Brendan asked immediately.

“He was outside my building,” she revealed.

“Outside your building?!” he demanded.  He pulled out his phone.  “I—I’m calling Steve.  No media availability for practice.  None.”

“Brendan—”

“This motherfucker,” he seethed, ignoring Aberdeen’s voice.  “This motherfucker is never getting into our locker room again.”

“Brendan, I don’t care about the locker room,” Aberdeen chastised him.  “He knows where I live!”

“I already called the police.  They’re meeting us at practice,” he revealed.  “I already told them we’re drafting up a peace bond.  And if that fucker even thinks about contesting it, I’ll be out for blood.”

Aberdeen was trying to make sense of what he was saying, but it wasn’t registering in her head.  She’d heard Siena talk about peace bonds before in relation to something she was learning in law school, but Aberdeen couldn’t connect the dots right now.  “What—what’s a peace bond?” she asked.

“It’s essentially a restraining order,” he explained.  “Some of the players actually have them for some people or fans but we’re not going to get into that right now.  All you need to know is that he won’t be able to be anywhere near you, your apartment, work, nothing.  I’ll push for an entire kilometre away from you.  I don’t care if the fucker has to move.  He won’t get anywhere near you ever again.”

Aberdeen calmed down considerably as Brendan spoke, though she was still on edge.  “We…we can do that?”

“Yes.  It’s the—fuck!—it’s the same old story with some of these fucking clowns.  Can’t get what they want in the locker room so they go after office stuff and see which one breaks first.  It’s never enough – whatever we give them is never enough.  All for some inside scoop.”

Aberdeen saw how angry Brendan was about this.  It was like the Ethan situation all over again.  It was different in that, with Ethan, Brendan was calm but she could see the rage inside of him.  Now, she saw the rage both inside and outside.  “I just want to make sure I’ll never have to see him again,” Aberdeen said.

“You won’t,” Brendan seethed.  “I’ll make sure of it.”

***

Aberdeen didn’t exactly like talking to cops – she didn’t think anyone did – but there were two waiting at practice when she and Brendan got there.  They waited for William and Jason to get there, and once they arrived, they all went into a private room to give statements.  Aberdeen showed the cops the video she took.  It played at least seven different times, and each time, she watched William across the table getting redder and redder.  Except this time, he was more vocal.  “Is it possible we can do more than just a peace order?  I mean can’t we press charges?”  “This guy is an obvious threat to the team’s safety if he’s approaching office staff to try to get exclusives on us.”  It was all very…clinical.  She didn’t know the word to describe it.  But Brendan was adamant on the conditions of the peace order, and was adamant that they go even a step further than what some of the guys had because she was a young female.  What surprised her the most was when Brendan called up the guy – literally right from his phone – and the cops read out the peace bond.  This was still in front of William and Jason.  The guy fought back a little bit but Brendan was having none of it and threatened him with court.  The guy had no chance but to accept the conditions of the peace order.  He agreed to sign it.  He agreed to every condition.  The cops would take care of him signing it and filing the peace order with the RCMP.  

It was barely noon.  

When the police left, Aberdeen thanked them politely and watched as Willy and Jason did too.  She noticed William’s eyes on her as she heard Brendan thank them and offer to walk them out.  Then she saw Jason was looking at her too.  “Can I talk to you?  Alone?” he asked.

“Yeah.  Of course.”

She followed him to an empty hallway – one she had walked down hundreds of times while working the practices.  Jason made sure nobody else was around before he started speaking.  “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she nodded her head.  “Just a bit spooked, as you can imagine.”

“Listen, I know you’ve got your parents’ place but my door is always open too if you or Kasha don’t feel safe in the apartment for the next little bit,” he offered.  God, she still needed to tell Kasha.  She still needed to call her fucking parents.  They were going to have a fit.  “You know Jen wouldn’t mind.”

“You’d add another girl to your house?” she tried to joke.

“Don’t joke about this,” he said, his voice so serious Aberdeen almost felt back for cracking the joke.  “Do you want to stay at my place?  Do you feel safe?”

“No.  And yes,” she said.  “No I do not want to stay at your place, but thank you for the offer.  And yes, I feel safe.  I mean, I feel safe right now, knowing that if he breaks that peace bond, he can go to jail.  That’s what’s making me feel safe right now.”

“It should.  It’s serious business.”

“Do you understand how lucky I am that the cops took it seriously and got it done within hours?  Because I guarantee you if it was just me filing the complaint, they wouldn’t have taken it seriously,” she said.  “They only took it seriously because of Brendan and him going apoplectic, and you know it.”

“I do know it,” Jason nodded his head.  “I’ve known it every day since my old teammate’s girlfriend had to get the exact same thing down in Dallas against a group of crazy girls who wanted to sleep with her boyfriend and threatened to show up at their house and suffocate her in her sleep.”

Okay, so apparently this was pretty commonplace.  Well, at least in hers and Jason’s lives.  While it wasn’t a crazy fangirl, he at least still understood where she was coming from.  “I guess I’m lucky he only wanted an inside scoop, I guess.”

Jason shook his head.  “I almost had a fucking heart attack when I saw that message.  You don’t even understand.  I was walking and I stopped dead in my tracks and turned around and started running to my car.  That’s when I saw Will.”

Ah, yes.  William.  She wondered where he was right now.  She’d have to find him after this conversation.  “Yeah.  I was shaking so much that for some reason, his name was the first to pop up.”

Jason stayed silent, nodding his head.  She could tell he was biting his tongue, wanting to say something, deciding whether or not it was worth it.  “Listen…I know…I know I shouldn’t even be asking this, but there’s nothing going on between you and Willy, is there?”

Aberdeen held her breath.  She had to lie to Siena.  She had to lie to Kasha.  Now, she had to lie to Jason.  It would have been inevitable, but she wished she didn’t have to, mostly because she respected him so much and knew how much he cared about her.  “No.  I just…we’re close – kinda – and listen – his crush isn’t exactly a secret, but it’s not like I’m doing anything while I’m working here,” she said, stumbling over her words a bit.  “I would never jeopardize my job or my career like that.”

“Right.  I know.  Sorry,” Jason kept nodding, now a bit bashful that he even brought it up.  “I just…you let him know, you know—”

“Because we’re close,” she reiterated.  “We’re practically the same age.  And because he’s the only guy around my age on the team who has even just some of his shit together because of the way he grew up.  I mean, I didn’t call Auston or Kappy for a reason.”

“Yeah.  Yeah, of course,” he actually cracked a smile.  “I just—sorry, Aberdeen.  I didn’t mean to be—”

“It’s okay, Jason,” she wished he’d just dropped it, because the more he dragged it on, the more she had to lie to him, and the more it killed her.  

There was a moment of silence before Jason spoke again.  “Kappy would have probably taken you to an oyster bar,” he quipped.

Aberdeen snorted.  She began laughing one of those silent laughs as she shook her head.  “You’re probably right.”

***

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE:  Earlier today, a member of the Toronto Maple Leafs organization was followed from their residence to 50 Bay Street.  It is of the utmost importance that members of the Toronto Maple Leafs organization are allowed privacy in their personal lives and are not stalked, followed, and harassed on their way to employment.  Due to the unacceptable actions, we have terminated the media credentials and locker room access of the individual involved in the incident, and they will never be allowed back into our locker room.  We encourage those in the media to review the acceptable guidelines policy given at the beginning of each season.  Legal action has already been taken against the individual.  We will not be answering any further questions.

***

“She what?!” Zach Hyman was in disbelief at what William announced to the room.

“Who was it?” John asked.

“Are they pressing charges?” Tyson demanded.

“There’s already a peace bond – it’s like a restraining order,” Jason explained.  “He can’t get within, like, a kilometre of her or the arena without her pressing charges and him going to jail.”

The locker room was in disbelief at the news that Aberdeen had been stalked on her way to work that morning.  They knew the media could be crazy, they just didn’t know they could be that crazy.  To target a young female member of the office was unheard of.  Usually they were the ones being stalked, not the office staff.  “Is she okay?” Zach asked.  

“She’s doing fine.  She’s Aberdeen.  For what it’s worth I think she’s keeping it all in, just like last time, but that’s neither here nor there,” Jason said, alluding to the Ethan situation.  “It all happened so fast this morning.  That’s why nobody had to do media after practice today.  Brendan suspended it.”

William watched as Auston shook his head.  “That girl’s being put through the fucking ringer, dude.  First the Ethan thing, then that scar, now this?”

“I’m surprised she stays with us,” Tyson commented.

“I don’t.  She loves us,” Mitch spoke up.  “Just like we love her.  This is just…a series of unfortunate events.  Like that book series.”

“You read books?” Auston quipped.

Mitch punched him in the arm.  “So I get why she’d text Jason,” Mitch continued, looking at William.  “But why you?”

William shrugged.  “How would I know?  She was probably shaking and her hand slipped while typing.  Would you be calm in that situation?”

Jason had heard that before.

***

“You’re not scared?” William asked over the phone, sitting alone inside of his car, still in the parking lot after practice.  Everybody had left long ago, but not him.

“A little bit, but I’m not letting it take over my life.  I can’t let it take over my life,” Aberdeen replied, her voice calm.  She was probably talking to him from the employee washroom back on Bay Street.  “If I let the fear take over, I wouldn’t do anything.  I wouldn’t be able to do my job.”

“But this isn’t that type of fear.  This is someone stalked you on your way to work fear.  This is someone hit you with a glass because they hated your boyfriend fear.  This is—”

“—that was a freak accident—”

“—This is a different type of fear, minskatt.  I can’t stand seeing this happen to you.”

“Willy, I couldn’t stand to hear those guys in the bar chirping you, either,” she said.  “You have to trust me when I tell you that it freaked me out and scared me but there’s a peace order now and it’s been dealt with.  I’m not going to let it take over my life.  Remember what you told me?  I’m not what happened to me.”

William took a deep breath to stop himself from getting emotional.  His girlfriend was handling this much better than he was – that was very clear.  “I just love you so much,” he whispered.  Aberdeen could swear she heard his voice crack slightly.  “I don’t ever want to see anything bad happen to you.  It kills me because I can’t help you right then and there.  I can’t even touch you.  It’s hard.  We have to do this instead.  This is the hardest part of keeping this all a secret.”

“I know.  I know,” she agreed with him.  “But you have to trust me.  You trust me, right?”

“With my whole heart,” he responded.

“Then you need to trust that I’m okay.”

***

@reporterchris:  The member of the Leafs organization who was followed from their residence was a woman.  Shanahan, Dubas, & co. are taking this extremely seriously.  Rumours are the team is quite upset too.

@reporterchris: Organization is not naming names for obvious reasons.  But they do tell us the member is doing fine, was not hurt or injured, and continues to perform her full duties with the team.  Org is treating this as a one-off scary episode, but did not want to take chances.  

@reporterchris:  Team is a bit standoffish tonight, with good reason.  Though the culprit is not in the room, players coming out for media availability aren’t as forthcoming as usual.  

***

“Oh my god, there is literally no room to breathe in this thing,” Aberdeen said as she sucked in her stomach as Kasha zipped up her jumpsuit.  She looked at herself in the mirror and had to admit the jumpsuit looked phenomenal on her.  It was skin tight, hugging her body in all the right places and actually made it look like she had some semblance of cleavage, and showed off just the right amount of skin for a February night.  Her long hair cascaded down her back, her makeup was immaculate besides the patch near her scar where she couldn’t put any on, and her heels gave her that extra bit of confidence to pull off the look.  

“You’ll be able to get some alcohol in,” Kasha joked as she finished zipping.  “Or else bottle service was a bust.”

“Bottle service is never a bust,” Aberdeen said.  “I’m just gonna make sure the pre-drink is worth it too.”

Aberdeen had decided against telling Kasha tonight about the stalking earlier in the day.  It just wasn’t the right time, because she knew Kasha was incredibly excited for tonight, and because Aberdeen didn’t want to think about it either.  Much like the Ethan situation, she didn’t want it to creep up in her mind when she was supposed to be having a good time.  She’d tell Kasha tomorrow, when she was hungover.  She’d also tell her parents tomorrow, because if she told them tonight, they’d probably show up to the pre-drink and lock her in her room.

As their friends began arriving, the drinks started flowing.  People brought their own, and of course Kasha and Aberdeen had some booze in stock, and Kasha made sure to take pictures – “thirst trips, Aberdeen, thirst traps!!!!!” – before things started to get too hectic and too alcohol-fuelled.  Evan came, and Masani came, and Tom, and Christian and Gavin and Zach, and Delilah and Ariana and Sloane, and Jude surprised her by coming in from McMaster, and she was surrounded by so many friends and posing for so many group photos that her mind really didn’t think of what happened earlier, and she was happy, really happy, and wanted to have the best time.

They practically fell out of their Ubers and into the lineup outside Toybox, but Masani spoke with the bouncer and he let them all in and they made their way to their reserved table.  Kasha pulled her out onto the dance floor and Aberdeen began moving her body to the beat of the music.  She’d look over her shoulder every now and then, making sure nobody was him, but after the first few times, she came to the realization he wouldn’t be there, and she really let loose.  Kasha was telling everyone who would listen that it was Aberdeen’s birthday so they’d buy them drinks.  Aberdeen accepted them.  Most people asked about her scar.  She told them.  A few guys flirted with her.  She shot them down.  Many more stared at her in her jumpsuit, their eyes filling with lust.  

Then one pair caught her eye, because she could recognize those baby blues anywhere.  

He was across the dance floor, staying a safe distance away from her and her party, but he was still keeping a watchful eye.  Not possessive, not domineering, not jealous or envious or untrusting – just watching.  She wanted him around her; she wanted him behind her so she could grind on him; she wanted him in front of her so she could dance with him; she wanted him close to her so she could wrap her arms around him; but she couldn’t.  He was there and she was here, and that’s where they had to stay.  

Don’t even hav to drunkt text you tonigt when you’re alreadfy here she texted him, downing the last of her vodka soda.  She looked towards him to see him taking out his phone.  It was only then that she noticed Rasmus approaching him with a drink, Kappy too already sipping on his own.

just wanted to make sure everything was ok after what happened today

omg is that rasmus isn’t hew like 12 how didf the bouncer let him inm who did youi pay

u look so sexy

do you know this placve can we sneak away

don’t think that’s the best idea

why not

kasha kappy rasmus

Oh right.  Kasha.  They needed to keep this a secret from Kasha.  And Kappy.  And Rasmus.  Aberdeen’s drunk brain wasn’t thinking very straight right now.  Would Kasha notice if she snuck away for…however long?  Would Masani?  Would any one of her friends?  Were they already too drunk to notice, too drunk to care?

“Who are you texting?” Kasha asked.

“Nobody,” Aberdeen answered absent-mindedly.  She typed out her last text message before locking her phone.

i want your fingers inside of me

“Let’s go back to the booth,” Kasha whined as she grabbed Aberdeen’s hand.  “My feet huuuuurt.”

They made their way through the crowd and up the steps.  Aberdeen looked back to see William looking down at his phone, biting him bottom lip.  He locked his screen and put it in his pocket with an irritated look on his face.  She got him.

The rest of the night was fun.  William stayed away, which meant none of her friends interacted with him or Kappy or Rasmus – even Masani didn’t see him, which was good because if she did she most certainly would have bullied him into giving her Alex’s number since she’d been calling him “the best lay of my life thus far” since June.  She danced some more with her girlfriends, drank some more, got some more drinks bought for her, got asked about her scar some more, and took more pictures in the booth and on the dance floor.  The announcement for last call was the only reason they left, stumbling out of the club at 2am like good twenty-somethings having the time of their lives.  Aberdeen drunkenly hugged every one of her friends before they left in their taxis or Ubers, even placing a huge kiss on Jude’s cheek for coming in all the way from McMaster to join them.  She, Kasha, and Evan got into a taxi together, with Kasha even taking some last-minute pictures of her posing in the back of the taxi, even though Aberdeen thought she probably looked like a mess.  

When she got her phone back, she opened the front-facing camera and used her arms to push up her boobs, snapping a quick picture of her cleavage and herself biting her lip before quickly sending it off to Willy.  Kasha was too busy on her own phone to notice, and Evan was trying to make friends with the driver.  Almost immediately, she saw the three dots pop up.

the next time i see u alone, ur gonna pay for this

😇

 do you wankt sokme more

are u comfortable with that?

She posed again, doing much of the same, except this time she made it a video.  She pressed send.

fuuuuuuck ur so fucking sexy

im sry i do not have boobies

😂

u have beautiful boobs 

perfect for my mouth

Aberdeen smiled.  She held her breath.

i love yourf mouthj on my boobs i love your mouth onb my pussyt

i love my mouth on ur pussy too

where is rasmus is he in bed

FOCUS ABERDEEN

“ABERDEEEEEEEN!” Evan called out loudly, drunkenly.  It was only then that she realized that the taxi had stopped and that Evan and Kasha were already out of the taxi, waiting for her.  “Let’s goooo!”

Instead of just opened her door, she crawled across the backseat like a baby giraffe just finding its legs and got out that way.  She thanked the driver and told him it was her birthday before she closed the door.  Evan made sure they got into the elevator.

minskatt?

in elevator no shawarma this time when i gety backj into my room i willk send more pics

😍

do you like my butt

yes i do

i like my butt toop do you wankt pics of my butt

i want whatever u will give me

Evan also made sure they got into their apartment just fine.  Aberdeen immediately kicked off her heels and escaped to her room, closing the door.  The feel of her feet out of her strappy heels and on the laminate floor brought her so much joy.  She faced her full-length mirror and took one last picture, posing with her ass out before she sent the picture to William.

for you and only for you

fuck baby can’t believe how hot u look

let me take off my jumpsuit i have sexyt underwear onm

Aberdeen put her phone down and somehow, someway, got the zipper on her back down low enough that she could shimmy out of it.  The second the skin tight jumpsuit was off, she felt an even bigger sense of relief and comfort than she did when she took off her heels.  Every organ in her body felt like it was settling into their rightful place and not squeezed in by the jumpsuit.  It felt nice.  It felt so nice that she sat down on her bed.  And when she sat down on her bed, the comforter felt so soft against her skin.  Then she saw her pillows.  She fucking loved her pillows.  So she lay her head down on them.  Her eyes became heavy.  Her breath steadied.

that’s so hot baby do u wear them at work too Aberdeen? minskatt? hahahahahahaha goodnight minskatt