#can’t fucking wait to get ‘surprise relative visit’ and ‘locking myself in my room for the rest of the trip’

[melhekhelmurkun]

Thanksgiving part 1 was just ruined by family infighting. Can’t wait for Thanksgiving part 2 with the other half of the fam to go EXACTLY the same way

[artificialqueens]

Taste of a Poison Paradise, Chapter 2 (Multi) - Joley

Chapter Summary: Jackie embraces her truth, Crystal and Gigi are deeply in the ‘idiots’ stage of ‘idiots to lovers’, Brooke Lynn and Vanessa take new steps in their relationship, and Priyanka continues her affair with Lemon.

ao3 link

When Lemon entered the dressing room, the other girls looked up, but looked a bit confused. “Jan didn’t come in with you?” Gigi asked.

“Jan didn’t even come home with me last night. She told me and Pri to go on without her. My guess is she pulled a Vanjie and went home with the hot business woman,” Lemon shrugged as she took her seat.

“Hey, don’t drag my name into it,” Vanessa huffed, though she supposed she couldn’t be that mad with that being her claim to fame. She was the first of the girls to date a client, and up until now, she had assumed she would be the only one.

Jan arrived a bit later, only about five minutes late, but took her seat as if nothing was out of the ordinary. “Hey y’all, did I miss anything good?”

The girls giggled. “I don’t think anything here is as good as what you been getting,” Vanessa teased. “You have Brooke’s friend speaking French between your legs all night or what?”

A broad grin spread across Jan’s lips. “Oh, that’s only the start,” she replied. “God, you guys, I couldn’t even walk right this morning. She ruined me – I don’t think I can have sex with anyone else after her.”

“You bottoms are so dramatic,” Gigi remarked, looking at Jan through her reflection in the mirror.

“You’re just jealous you don’t have a bottom to ruin,” Jan retorted as she took her seat.

“One in particular,” Jaida chimed in.

Gigi rolled her eyes, wondering why she bothered saying anything in the first place. It’s not like Jaida or the other girls were wrong – her crush on Crystal was common knowledge among the dancers. She couldn’t help herself – when she had started working there, Crystal was the first to see through her stoic, standoffish front, something that took the average person weeks. The two of them bonded right away.

But To her dismay, Crystal had a girlfriend when her crush first developed. Though even when that relationship ended, she still did her best to use that as an excuse for not saying anything.

“I don’t see why you can’t talk to her. It’s been two months, it wouldn’t be a rebound,” Lemon offered.

“You’re technically correct,” Gigi conceded, “but it’s complicated, we’ve developed such a friendship in that time…”

“Bitch, that is the oldest excuse in the fucking book,” Vanessa retorted as she coated her brunette locks in a layer of hairspray. “Oh, we can’t date, it’ll ruin our friendship,” she mocked in a ‘white’ voice, “such a cop-out.”

Gigi frowned, strumming her nails against the vanity table. “Doesn’t make it untrue…”

Before Vanessa could reply, Jackie was at the door. She led Crystal, Priyanka, and Kameron in, then took a deep breath. “Ladies, I wanted you all in here because I have something to tell you.”

The girls looked at each other, murmuring with confusion and concern. Was something happening to the club? Were they in trouble? But they quickly quieted down and redirected their attention redirected to Jackie, urging her to continue.

Jackie took a deep breath. “Alright, I suspect this might not be the biggest surprise to you, but this is still difficult for me to say because, you know, it’s something I haven’t really said in my whole thirty-five years.” She pressed her lips into a line and swallowed thickly, doing her best to keep it together. “I’ve always felt a strong kinship with you guys, and deep down, I’ve always known it’s… it’s because I’m gay.”

The girls didn’t give Jackie time to brace herself for their reaction. Within seconds they surrounded her, hugging her tight. Sure, they had suspected it for a long time. Some of them had assumed Jackie was out but simply never mentioned it. But regardless of what they’d previously thought, all that mattered now was giving Jackie their complete, unbridled support.

And Jackie couldn’t do anything but sob. It was a sob of relief, of joy, but also of exhaustion – she had carried that weight on her chest for far too long and her lungs were desperate for the air of freedom. She knew this would only be the first time she came out, and she didn’t know when the next would be, but at least she knew she had a group of girls she could be safe with.

“That’s okay, sweetie. Let it out,” Jan soothed as she rubbed her back. “We’re all so proud of you.”

“The first time is always the hardest,” Jaida agreed. “You don’t gotta go tell everyone, just embracing it for yourself is enough.”

Jackie looked up at Jaida, opening her mouth to speak, only for her throat to run dry. Instead, she wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. “Thanks, you guys. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.”

When the group hug ended, everyone relaxed into their usual spots. “Alright, ladies,” Jackie prompted, “let’s have a great shift.”

As Crystal and Priyanka returned to the bar, they were still processing their bosses’ confession. “I’m fucking proud of Jackie,” Priyanka was saying. “I almost peed myself when I came out to y’all.”

“Weren’t you already sleeping with Lemon when you came out to us?” Crystal asked as she continued getting her station ready.

Despite a tinge of embarrassment, Priyanka laughed. “Only like, three times,” she defended. Even though she hadn’t been out when she started working there, she had quickly found out that Lemon had no idea how not to be out, nor did she know how to be subtle. Priyanka had realized she had to choose between staying closeted at work and pursuing her budding affair, and the choice was obvious to her.

“Three more than some of us,” Crystal murmured under her breath.

Priyanka scoffed. “Bitch, if you’re still carrying a torch for Gigi, why don’t you fucking tell her already? It’s not the world’s biggest secret, you know. We all figured it out,” she said, then paused for a moment, “well, except her.”

“Therein lies the problem,” she lamented. “It’d be easier if I knew that she only saw us as friends, then I could let it go. But there’s always this… underlying sexual tension between us. I don’t know. I’m confused.”

“Underlying sexual tension?” Priyanka’s brows rose. “She’s the only one of the girls that doesn’t put her bra back on when she comes to get a drink from you… well, neither does Vanjie, sometimes, but the bitch is just forgetful.”

Crystal chuckled softly. “Either that or she’s swinging by the security booth. Did you hear her tell Jaida she was gonna broach the ‘open relationship’ subject with Brooke, like, soon?”

“No, but I think it’s a good idea. Nip it in the bud before things get messy, huh?”

“Why, because it’s too late for you?”

Priyanka opened her mouth to speak, then pressed her lips together. “I… yeah, pretty much. I’ve accepted my life’s chaos, though.”

——

When Brooke Lynn wasn’t visiting the club as a client, she was often there as both a supportive girlfriend and pseudo-manager for Vanessa. She held herself in a confident, professional way that allowed her to walk right through the front door and into the back where the dressing room was without anyone looking twice, let alone question it.

Vanessa looked up when Brooke walked in and smiled, ignoring the way her chest tightened. “Hey, boo,” she greeted, getting up to give her a quick hug and kiss. “I’m glad you’re here, I been meaning to talk to you.”

“Oh, good,” Brooke nodded as she sat in one of the empty chairs. “I wanted to talk to you too. Do you want to go first?”

Normally, Vanessa would’ve automatically jumped on the opportunity to go first. But her nerves were still twisting up her insides and she figured she could calm herself down while her girlfriend spoke. “No, it’s fine, go ahead.”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about it, and all things considered…” she took a deep breath, “I think it would be a good idea for you to move in with me.”

“Yeah!” Vanessa’s nerves were instantly replaced with excitement – she loved the idea of getting to move in with Brooke, they had gotten so close despite their relatively short relationship. She was there most of the time anyway, and it made her own apartment look like a prison cell in comparison. And it didn’t hurt that she wouldn’t have to deal with rent or a landlord anymore. “I love you, B, I think that’s a great idea.”

Brooke brightened up. “Really? Awesome, we can get started on that whenever, really. Most of your stuff is at my place or here anyway. What did you want to tell me?”

Vanessa deflated a bit, reconsidering the whole idea. Of course she was still attracted to Kameron and didn’t plan on throwing out the ‘open relationship’ idea entirely. The timing, however, felt off. Inappropriate. Cold, even. “You know what? It ain’t nothing important, it can wait.”

“Are you sure? If something’s wrong, you can tell me, I want to know.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Vanessa looked her in the eye so Brooke could tell she was being honest. “It just isn’t worth bringing up right now, I’d rather focus on this moving gig.”

Although Brooke wasn’t entirely convinced, she decided to let it go for the time being. “Alright. I’m gonna go grab a drink and let you finish getting ready,” she got up and kissed her cheek before heading back into the main room.

Vanessa ran her fingers through her hair and exhaled deeply. She looked at herself in the mirror and sighed. “Well, that got fucked up,” she muttered.

“You good, girl?” Lemon asked as she took her usual seat. “Usually you have a smug grin on when Brooke leaves the dressing room. The open relationship thing didn’t go over well?”

“It didn’t go at all,” she answered. “I was gonna, but then she asked me to move in with her… and I fucking love her, of course I wanna take that next step. But I couldn’t just jump from there to that just ‘cause I can’t stop thinking about getting fucked by Kameron.”

Lemon nodded and listened, fixing her hair and makeup in the mirror as well. “I mean, I can’t exactly be a moral compass here, but I get your concern. You guys haven’t done anything yet, have you?”

“Nothin’, just some flirting and shit. All hands-free. And mouths-free,” she confirmed. “You know I’d never wanna do something to hurt Brooke. Been on the other side of it before, shit sucks.”

“You guys love each other,” Lemon reassured. “I’m sure you’ve built up the trust to have that sort of honest conversation.” Under her breath, she added “must be nice.”

Vanessa didn’t catch it. “Guess you’re right, it’ll work out eventually,” she decided.

“Atta girl,” Lemon patted her shoulder as she got up. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got my nightly home wrecking to do.”

Vanessa looked up as Lemon left, only to make eye contact with Brooke, who was standing in the doorway with a glass in each hand. “How long you been standing there?” she asked hesitantly.

Brooke walked in and sat in the same chair she’d been in before, setting one glass on the counter and holding onto the other one. “So… Kameron, huh? Can’t say I’m surprised. She’s beautiful and you do have a type.”

She furrowed her brows, unsure of how to process Brooke’s reaction. “You’re not mad? You don’t even look pissed or nothing.”

“Well, no offense babe, but with your line of work, I’ve already wrapped my head around the idea of having to share you. Sure, it’s a little different comparing clients to someone you’re actually interested in, but I can’t fathom it being that bad,” she explained. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll pick up a cute little side piece while you two are going at it.”

Even with the explanation, Vanessa was still perplexed. But she was getting her way, so she supposed she couldn’t really complain. “You still want me to move in though, right?”

“Of course I do,” Brooke answered without hesitation. “This doesn’t change how I feel about you or about us. We’ll try the open thing out, see how we feel, and take it from there.”

Vanessa finally allowed herself to relax. “Alright, yeah, sounds good to me.”

“Good,” Brooke hummed and finished her drink off. “I’ll see you later,” she said, giving Vanessa a kiss before she left again. But this time, instead of going back into the main room, she went out the back door. She fished a cigarette and lighter out of her purse and lit it, then leaned against the wall as she took a drag.

“Thought you were trying to quit,” Gigi remarked. She had been outside for a few minutes, wrapped in a long, black robe with a lit joint held between two fingers.

Brooke exhaled, smoke blowing through her mouth. “Well, I just gave my girlfriend permission to fuck the security guard, so I’m having a cheat day.”

Gigi furrowed her brows as she took another drag. “Kameron? Why’d you do that then?”

“Because I love her and trust her but at the same time, I’d rather know what she’s up to instead of her lusting after another woman behind my back. Also we’re moving in together. It’s been an eventful night. So… open relationship it is.”

“Look at it this way, you’ll probably be fucking more once you live together, maybe it’ll wear her out,” Gigi offered.

Brooke laughed softly. “That isn’t as reassuring as you think it is, Geege.”

“At least you’re getting some.”

“No progress with Crystal, I take it?” Brooke asked, then dropped her spent cigarette on the ground and put it out with her shoe.

Gigi shook her head. “And with this gig plus school, I haven’t had time to find some distraction sex. You know how it is, right? When your brain gets stuck on something and the only way to dislodge it is by railing a pretty girl?”

“Yes, I remember being twenty-two. First time I got my heart broken by a straight girl,” she recalled. She looked at Gigi with a fond smile. She saw a lot of herself in the dancer, felt something of a kindred spirit. “Let me get a hit of that, wanna see why Vanjie loves that shit so much.”

Gigi covered her mouth with her free hand to giggle. “Sure, go nuts,” she said and passed the joint to her. She lingered close to Brooke, watching her curiously.

Brooke took a drag the same way she would off a cigarette. While it felt the same physically, she did prefer the way the weed made her feel. “Hm, yeah, I get it,” she said as she passed it back to Gigi. But as she did, there was a moment where their eyes met, where their shared loneliness, with sex on their minds. They started to lean closer, their lips parting…

“Nope,” they said in unison, pulling back and laughing.

——

Once the club had closed for the night, Lemon was sitting up on the bar while Priyanka was cleaning up. “You coming home with me tonight, Pri?” she asked, batting her lashes and swinging her legs.

“Can’t,” Priyanka sighed. “I promised Mark I’d watch some stupid fucking documentary with him when I got home,” she rolled her eyes.

“Who cares about him?” Lemon whined. “We haven’t had sex in like, almost two whole days. I’m literally dying.”

Priyanka finished her task then came around the bar, trapping Lemon between her arms as she held onto the bar. “You are the neediest bitch I have ever met. You know that, right?” Despite her ‘scolding’, she started kissing Lemon’s neck.

And of course, Lemon was happy with any small victory. “I think you like it, though. I think you get off on being needed, on knowing that I’m thinking of you when I need to be sexy on stage.”

“Do you really?” Priyanka asked. “Do you think about how good I fuck you while your shaking your ass for a crowd?” she asked, moving one of her hands between Lemon’s thighs. “Let it get you all worked up and let them think you’re just really into your job?”

Lemon’s legs instantly spread when Priyanka’s hand slipped between her thighs. Even though she didn’t like feeding Priyanka’s ego, she couldn’t pretend the dirty talk didn’t affect her. “Mm, of course I do, easy when no one makes me come like you do.”

“Good girl,” Priyanka praised, then rewarded her by slipping two fingers inside of Lemon’s panties, then slowly easing them into her pussy one after the other. “Look at you, already wet. You really were just thinking about getting fucked, weren’t you?”

“Fuck…” Lemon breathed out, bucking against Priyanka’s fingers, trying to writhe in time with her thrusts. “I was, couldn’t help it.”

Priyanka smirked, kissing up Lemon’s neck, then along her jaw and the shell of her ear. “My needy little whore,” she cooed as she fucked her harder and faster.

Considering most of their coworkers hadn’t left either, Lemon did make an attempt to stay quiet. She bit down on her lip, just whimpering as she rocked against her fingers.

But Priyanka didn’t make it easy on her. He curled and twisted her fingers, knowing every which way to make Lemon squirm and whine. She kept it up, fucking Lemon through her orgasm and even a bit after that. She then eased her fingers out and pressed a kiss to her lips. “Think you’ll make it through the night now, you insufferable baby?”

Lemon rolled her eyes. “I think I’ll survive,” she giggled as she hopped down from the bar. “I’m gonna go get changed, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She wrapped her arms around Priyanka’s waist, gazing up at her and stealing another kiss before leaving.

“You better wipe that bar down thoroughly,” Crystal remarked when she returned from the kitchen.

Priyanka groaned. “Ah, fuck, forgot you were here.”

She shrugged. “Didn’t wanna interrupt. But seriously, clean that shit up.”

[taylorinthetardis]

Only Human - Prologue and Chapter 1

Hey everyone! So this is the Pride and Prejudice AU I’ve been working on for a while now. It’s set in Modern Day London and told from Darcy’s POV. It is cross posted on AO3, the link to it will be below. I promise I will update it soon, I’ve just been a little bit blocked for a while. But I promise there will be more. So here we go, the prologue and first chapter are under the cut! Enjoy!! Feedback is much appreciated!! If you like it and want to be on a taglist, please feel free to say so!!

Thank you to @madbaddic7ed for all your encouraging words and for convincing me to cross post!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22109365

Only Human

Summary:  The events of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice as seen through the eyes of Darcy. Story takes place in modern day London. Lizzy and Jane are American students studying abroad. Their sisters take turns visiting them throughout the story. Bingley and Darcy are recent business partners, but longtime friends. Caroline is as snake-ish as ever. George Wickham is an actual rapist - the rape will not be described in detail.

Pairing: William (Will) Darcy x Elizabeth (Lizzie) Bennet; Charles Bingley x Jane Bennet

Rating: Explicit due to eventual smut

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 2.8K

                                                       Prologue

It is a truth universally acknowledged that I, William Darcy, am an arsehole. The following tale, dear reader, will explain how that came to be and how, I hope, I have made the preceding statement a falsehood instead. The following tale does not often show me at my best. I hope, however, that you may look past my faults and forgive my disgraceful, ignorant, and often impure thoughts as I relay to you the circumstances by which I came to fall deeply in love with the most wonderful, challenging woman I’ve ever met, the method by which I nearly ruined an incredibly important friendship, and the events surrounding the creation of a familial fissure that will never heal. I hope you will not judge me too harshly.

                                       Chapter 1: Hanover Terrace

I was sat in my office. My office. Still getting used to that. When I took over control from my Aunt Catherine in April, a lot of work was done to make this office mine. Catherine’s taste in furniture was, how should I phrase this, medieval. I was honestly surprised we didn’t have to remove any torture devices when her furniture was cleared out to make room for my more practical mahogany desk and overstuffed leather chairs. My degree from Cambridge’s Judge Business School was propped in my bookcase with photos of my parents and Georgiana on either side. The office is still rather spartan in comparison to Charles’ but I don’t mind it. Our companies had recently merged, an event that proved profitable for both parties and served to deepen our friendship. Our offices are across the hallway from each other now, as opposed to being across the Thames. The economic windfall had been excellent for Charles. He had decided to purchase a new home, one big enough for himself and his sister and closer to her university. Charles is an orphan, like myself, and the sole caretaker of his younger sister Caroline, who recently began her studies at the fashion and design school at Regent’s University. I feel for Charles sometimes. His younger sister is an absolute terror, but I guess we can’t all be blessed with saints for sisters. Caroline is an uncommonly cruel young woman. She delights in shit-talking friends and strangers alike. She also is labouring under the delusion that she will one day be my wife. Her older sister, Louisa, has enjoyed several years of trophy-wifery and it seems Caroline has decided that is the life she wants to live as well. Although she just recently came of age, she has flirted with me non-stop since the first day Charles invited me home with him. We’ve known each other since we were 18 years old. We are now 25. Damn near seven years. SEVEN YEARS. Seven fucking years dealing with Caroline’s shite. She just turned 18 earlier this year. What the hell did she think I was going to do with her when she was eleven goddamn years old? Go to prison? I sure as shit think not.

Charles entered my office at around 1. He was bouncier than usual. He had either had more than one of his normal sickly-sweet coffees or he was in love again. Turned out it was both.

“Oh, Will I’m so happy you convinced me to snatch up Hanover Terrace. I met the most beautiful woman in world yesterday. I never would have known her if I hadn’t decided to take your advice. I invited her and her sister out with us tonight. You don’t mind, do you? Even if you do, once you meet her, you’ll forget you were ever bothered.” He spoke at such a speed that I only caught about every third word. My ears perked, however, at the ‘out with us tonight’ part. Out with us? I don’t remember agreeing to go anywhere with Charles. He always wants to go to nightclubs. He knows I don’t dance. He always does this. Drags me to some poppy nightclub with strobe lights and terrible music.

“And how did you meet this one Charles? Spill your coffee on her? No, wait, you were walking Caroline’s stupid pug and she thought it was cute and wanted to pet it.”

“Christ, am I becoming that predictable?” Yes Charles. Every girl you’ve ever fancied has fallen into your life in a cliché.

I nodded.  He sighed.

“Well, it’s different this time. She isn’t like any other girl I’ve been with. More beautiful than Sarah, kinder than Tilly, oh and her sister Will. Her sister has got to be one of the most intelligent women I’ve ever spoken to in my life. They’re both very beautiful Will. If I was a betting man, I’d wager that Lizzie might even be beautiful enough to tempt you out of your shell and entice you to have some goddamn fun for once. Maybe she’ll even get you to dance.” He nudged me with his elbow, winking. Yeah right Charles. Not even Charlize Theron could get me to dance at a nightclub.

“I seriously doubt that Charles. So, what’s this one called, hm?”

“Jane.” He said it with a sigh. Oh, he’s already long gone. “Her sister is called Elizabeth, but she prefers Lizzie. They’re American, Darce. From the Midwest. They’re both studying abroad at Regent’s for the year.”

“And to what godforsaken place will you be attempting to drag me to tonight?”

“I was thinking Drama? I wanna show off a little Will. I really like her; I want to impress her.”

“Drama might be a little much for a midwestern girl, don’t you think? What about that place we went in Camden a few months ago, by the lock?”

“Lock 17? Isn’t that a little down market for you Darce? There isn’t even a dress code!”

“Come off it, you know I couldn’t care less Charles. I don’t even like going out. I just think Lock 17 will be the better choice for her. You don’t want to scare her. Anyway, I think you’ll have a nice time. Without me.”

“Nuh uh, you aren’t getting out of this. You come or you’re dead to me.” I rolled my eyes. Jesus he’s such a goddamn drama queen.

“Ugh fine I’ll go. But I’m not dancing and you can’t make me. I’m a grown man Charles. So, meet at Hanover Terrace at, what, 8pm? Or should we meet earlier?”

“I was thinking 7:30, that way we’ll all have plenty of time to get ready and you can get to know them before we go. I’m going to order the cab for 8 so we’ll have plenty of time to get there if there’s any slow spots.”

“Please tell me you’ll be leaving Caroline at home.”

“Yeah, so she can kick my arse over it later? No chance. Besides, we’ll probably lose her to the dance floor as soon as we get in. She’ll find some nice dumb boy to buy her drinks and you won’t have to see her all night.” No Charles she’ll be on me like white on rice all damn night and you bloody well know it.

“Alright. But I’m not dancing.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I arrived at Hanover Terrace about 7:30. As soon as Charles opened the door, I immediately regretted my decision to come. I should have told him I got food poisoning from lunch or something. Caroline was stomping through the front room, going from box to box screaming that she couldn’t find her favourite clubbing heels. Who the fuck has a favourite pair of heels for clubbing? Heels seem so impractical for dancing. Charles’ new love and her sister had yet to arrive and Charles appeared to be in a slight panic.

“What if she doesn’t come Will?” He said shakily. Christ he’s in a full meltdown.

“I’m sure she’ll be here in a few minutes Charles. It’s not even close to 8 o’ clock yet. You’ve got plenty of time, just relax.” I took a minute to look around his new home. He had barely unpacked. I helped him get everything in order for the move about two weeks ago and he moved in a few days later. Everything was basically where it was when I visited three days ago. “Have you genuinely not unpacked anything Charles? How are you even living in here?”

“I’ve got enough clothes unpacked upstairs to last another week probably. Caroline’s rarely home in the evening anymore so I just keep getting take-away. There’s a Chipotle just around the corner on Baker Street. You know I love a burrito bowl. Something I have in common with the lovely Jane.” Gag. Well, at least the movers got his furniture set up, although most of the downstairs furnishings were unusable because they were covered with cardboard boxes and plastic totes and suitcases. The sofa in the main living area was clear enough that I took a seat. Caroline continued her tear through the front room until a triumphant screech echoed through the relatively empty house. The heels in question were easily six inches high, sparkly platformed monstrosities. They completed a look which can only be described as what a disco ball would look like if it was a contestant on Love Island. Hopefully Jane and her sister would be a bit more sensibly dressed, like Charles and myself. I decided on a plain black tee and black jeans with my black and white trainers. Charles had gone with a less monochromatic palette, wearing a bright blue button down that was almost the colour of his eyes and a pair of dark blue jeans. We’re wearing the same shoes. Us and every other man in London. Suddenly there was knock on the door. I checked my watch, 7:35. I told Charles he was worrying for nothing. He bounced towards the door like Caroline’s pug when he needed a shit. He opened the door to reveal a young blonde woman and a younger looking woman with auburn hair.

“Jane, Lizzie, I’m so pleased you’re here. Sorry about the mess, haven’t had much time to unpack yet, with work and all.” Charles led them through to the room I had posted up in. The dark-haired girl peered at me through purple framed glasses. Her sister gave her a little nudge. Well fuck, Charles wasn’t kidding. God they’re both gorgeous! They were dressed considerably more sensibly than Caroline. Jane wore a low pair of black heels that complemented her red cocktail dress. Her sister was even more comfortably dressed, in black leggings, Doc Martins, and a plain white t-shirt. She wore a black leather jacket over the tee. Neither girl appeared to be wearing much make-up. Both were possessed of the natural beauty that Caroline tried to fabricate in her hour-long make-up routine that left her looking like she had Photoshopped her own face, but in real life. I stuck my hand out. “Will Darcy. It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” Wow, sound more like you’re a hundred years old, why don’t you Will?

“Will, this is Lizzie,” he gestured to the brunette, “and this is Jane.” He put his hand on the small of the blonde’s back and she blushed redder than Charles’ hair.

“Lizzie Bennet. It’s so nice to meet you Will.” She took my hand with her considerably smaller one and shook it. It was a firmer handshake than I’d had from some of my business associates. She dropped my hand and her sister took up the vacancy. Her handshake was much softer, grip much lighter, much more feminine. Looking at the two women before me, I wouldn’t have known they were sisters if Charles hadn’t told me. They couldn’t have been more different. One blonde, one brunette. Jane had soft blue eyes, Lizzie’s were bright and hazel. Jane was tall and slender, her sister shorter and softer around the middle. Taking all of her in I came to a sudden realization: she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Okay Will be cool. For once in your bloody life be cool. I opened my mouth, but before I could speak Lizzie launched into an animated conversation with Charles about her day. It was all I could do not to stare at her mouth while it moved faster than Charles’ ever had, no matter how in love he was or how many Frappuccinos he had consumed. I sat back down on the sofa, while Lizzie sat on the carpet, Charles on the coffee table, and Jane remained standing. Lizzie told us about one of her professors, an archaeologist who taught university classes when he wasn’t on digs.

“He’s like a real-life Indiana Jones except without the bullwhip and the hat. And he’s not Harrison Ford. But still. Oh, and don’t even let me get started on my Shakespeare professor. George. He’s my most favourite.”

“I’m glad to hear you’re enjoying your studies Lizzie. But don’t forget to explore the city while you’re here! London is full of endless things to see and do. I’ve lived here most of my life and I still haven’t seen everything!” Charles is so blessed. I wish I could just talk. Talking is better than staring. C’mon mouth, work! “Wouldn’t you agree Darce?”

Shit, I have to talk now? I nodded, again opening my mouth to speak, but no words came. Charles picked the conversation back up, turning to Jane to ask if she had a pleasant day as well.

“Yes. I took a lovely walk through Regent’s Park today. I only have the one class on Thursdays so I’ve been using the rest of the day to explore a bit. Lizzie’s schedule is so much fuller than mine so I’ve been finding places for us to go on the weekends. We’ve gone to Camden Market and Hyde Park. When you met us the other day, we were on our way back from the Tate Modern, I don’t remember if I said or not.”

“Yes, you said Lizzie was disappointed because she thought you were going to the Tate Britain.”

“Do you have something against modern art?” Oh, cool. Thanks, mouth. Why did that come out like I’m angry about that? Modern art is dumb. How is a pile of rubber or a cut-up McDonald’s bag art?

“I can appreciate that its art, like how I can appreciate that romance novels are literature or techno is music, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. I prefer the old masters and classical art to a splash of paint on a canvas. My little cousin can do that too, does that mean her art belongs in a prestigious museum? Naw fam it sure don’t.” Yes. I wholly agree. Why does she have her eyebrow raised at me? Does she think I don’t agree? What is my face doing? Am I scowling? I don’t want to scowl. Did she say ‘fam’? That doesn’t matter. Why does it feel like it matters?

“You’ll have to excuse my sister. She’s never been shy about her opinions. And she has a lot of them.” Jane shot her sister a disapproving look. Lizzie just shrugged. Caroline chose that moment to come swanning into the room. Seeing there was a perfectly good space next to her brother on the coffee table, she chose to throw herself down into my lap. Oh, for fucks sake. She’s gonna get fake tanner on my trousers.

“Will, my love," I threw up in my mouth a little, "we’re going to have such a wonderful time at Drama tonight.” I can’t wait to burst her bubble.

“Caroline, did Charles not tell you? We aren’t going to Drama. We’re going to Lock 17, in Camden.” I tried to move her from my lap, but she dug her heels into the carpet for grounding. Fat Christ, Charles will you get your sister under control?

She sputtered, on the verge of a full tantrum directed at her brother when, blessedly, Charles’ phone vibrated. “That’ll be the cab. Caroline are you still coming?”

She jumped up off my lap and straightened the piece of sequined cloth trying to pass itself off as a dress. “Of course I’m going Charles. I put all this on, I can’t just not go out now!” She stomped off to the dining area to get her bag from the table. Charles led Jane towards the front door. I extended my hand down to Lizzie, who took it. I pulled her up from the floor. You should let go of her hand now Will. You’re being weird. I dropped her hand like it had burned me. Smooth. She looked at me, smirked and cocked that eyebrow again. Saying nothing, she followed her sister and Charles out the front door. Caroline took advantage of my initial inaction by slipping her arm into mine, leading me towards the cab. And my doom.

[imagine-loki]

Sleeping Beauty

TITLE: Sleeping Beauty

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: One-shot

AUTHOR: breemaggs

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: The core Avengers and Loki falling under a Sleeping Curse. You and the newer Avengers try to come up with ways to wake them up. During the meeting, Peter Parker jokingly suggests that you wake Loki up with a kiss ala Sleeping Beauty style. You blush and stutter that the kiss has to be a two way street so it can’t work because Loki doesn’t like you. Dr Strange admits that Loki asks for you all the time during his visits to the Sanctum. You tell everyone to leave the room so you could have a moment with Loki. After some pondering, you decide to take a chance and kiss Loki. But you sprint out of the room before he wakes up. Will he figure out it was you? Only time will tell...

RATING: M

NOTES/WARNINGS: Rated M for language. It’s a little different than the imagine, but as often happens to me, the muse does what the muse wants. She can be fickle so I let her run rampant when she’s feeling generous 🤷🏻‍♀️

“No fucking way!” I shot an apologetic glance towards Peter. “Magic like that is ancient and has about a thousand rules that go along with it. Besides, the affection has to be mutual.”

“But it is mutual,” he argued.

My apologetic glance turned into an annoyed glare. “No, it isn’t.”

“Dr. Strange, tell her!”

I slid my eyes over to my colleague and friend. He shifted in his seat.

“He does ask after you quite a bit,” he confessed.

I rolled my eyes; I couldn’t believe he was agreeing with a sixteen year old boy. While there was some truth to the fairytale of Sleeping Beauty, it was far more complicated than a simple kiss. And we had no idea exactly what kind of sleep curse he had been hit with. I wasn’t going to start fucking around with ancient magic before I had weighed all my options.

I rubbed my temples and thought about how this whole mess had even started. It seemed like the beginning of a fairytale, that was for sure. A rogue witch had approached the compound. Loki had been holding down the fort. Rather than invite her in, he’d gone to her. We’d pulled the footage on the security cameras afterwards and watched as he cautiously walked towards her.

Before he could so much as raise an alarm, she’d placed a hand on his chest and the rest was history. He had crumpled at her feet and she’d turned, stared right into the camera, and winked. Fucking cocky bitch. And then she’d vanished into thin air. I’d tried to track her with the residual magic she’d left on Loki, but it was no use. She was out of range wherever she was.

And she’d never registered with the council; I’d checked, toting the security tapes to their New York headquarters along with the last of the magical imprint she’d left; it should have been enough to identify her. But since she wasn’t registered, she was a rogue. Which meant she was a ghost.

It had taken me hours to identify the type of curse. I’d blown up the security images. I’d run extensive scanning and reveal-me spells over Loki’s still form. All I could discern was that it was a curse that was sleep based. Which didn’t tell me much; there were quite literally thousands of such curses. They’d gained popularity in the sixteenth century and been improved upon ever since.

So, quite honestly, Peter could be right. It could be the Sleeping Beauty curse (named after the fairytale, of course). But it was such an old curse. And despite how easy the solution seemed, it was quite difficult to break. There was so much more to it than mutual affection; it had to do with body chemistry, soul mates and soul magic, from what I remembered.

And if that was the answer, what was the motive? Why would you use that particular curse? She could have hit him with anything in that moment, but she’d sent him into a slumber. A frown tugged at my mouth. Something about the whole thing just wasn’t sitting right. Something was off.

I sighed and stood up. I had to do something. Sitting on my hands wasn’t helping me find a solution. And, apparently, bouncing ideas off of this particular group of Avengers was relatively useless.

“Are you going to kiss him?” Peter called after me.

I resisted the urge to flip him off; he was only a teenager. I chose to just ignore him as I walked down the hall to the room where we were keeping Loki. I was using it as my research center. Most of my supplies were in there.

But my eyes strayed away from my work table when I walked in. They were drawn to Loki. He was so still. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought that he was dead. His breathing was slow and steady, his chest rising and falling subtly with every breath.

I sighed sadly and drew my index finger across the softness of his cheek. My heart ached looking at him. I had to find the solution. I just had to.

xoxoxo xoxoxo

It had been two weeks and I was no closer to a solution. I had cried myself to sleep every night for the past week. I had consulted with the council, but they all agreed with my conclusions and could offer no further answers.

I rubbed my tired eyes and attempted to focus on the words in front of me even though I had damn near memorized every word of this particular passage. I dropped my hands and stared down at them. I didn’t know what else to do. I had exhausted every resource that I had at my disposal. I was beginning to get desperate.

I lifted my eyes and looked at Loki. I had placed stasis charms on his body to prevent him from succumbing to starvation, but they weren’t meant to last forever. I would have to find a way to wake him up.

As I stared at him, sleep deprived and depressed, Peter’s words from two weeks ago echoed in my ears. I wanted to dismiss them as easily as I had two weeks ago. But, by my own admission, I was damn near desperate. And really, what could it hurt? Nothing.

Fuck it. I was on my feet and across the room before I could properly process my actions. And, as I was standing in front of him, I felt an overwhelming sense of... rightness. It was almost peaceful. I blamed it on the exhaustion.

Almost as if in a daze, I leaned down and lightly laid my lips on his in the barest semblance of a kiss; just a brush of my lips against his. It only lasted about a half of a second and then I was pulling away from him and fighting the defeated tears that were welling in my eyes.

Nothing happened.

The disappointment surprised me. I hadn’t truly thought it would work, but deep down, I had hoped anyway. I choked back a sob and laid my head down on his chest.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“What, exactly, are you sorry for?”

My entire body stilled at the sound of his voice. And then my entire body was in motion. My head flew up. My heart started racing. My hands gripped his shoulders. My eyes locked on his. His eyes that were wonderfully, gloriously, open and responsive.

“Loki?” I whispered, almost afraid that I was dreaming. My hands drifted up to cup his face in wonder.

He looked annoyed and it made me want to laugh. “Yes. Were you expecting someone else?”

At that, I did laugh, throwing my head back in sheer joy. “No, I just... What’s the last thing you remember?”

His hands wrapped around my wrists and for a moment I thought he was going to pull my hands away from his face, but he just held onto them, his thumbs gently circling my skin. He looked thoughtful, his eyes faraway as he contemplated my question. I waited patiently, giving him all the time he needed.

“I don’t...” He didn’t finish his sentence.

“You were cursed,” I quietly informed him. “You’ve been comatose for almost three weeks.”

His thumbs paused on my wrists and his grip tightened. “What happened?”

I fidgeted under his intense scrutiny. “There was a witch... She approached you at the tower and cursed you. We’re still trying to make sense of it.”

He frowned and I pulled my hands away from him with some effort.

“How did you break the curse?”

It was my turn to frown. “It’s, uh, not important right now. You should go see Strange. He’s going to want to check you over. We can talk more after.”

I abruptly turned and walked out the door. I wasn’t ready to face the implications of my actions just yet. I wasn’t ready for the questions about something that I didn’t fully understand myself. I needed answers. Once I had them, I would be ready to answer everyone’s questions; my own included.

I didn’t see anyone in the hallway on my way to my room and I was grateful, but I knew it wouldn’t be long until they were knocking on my door. I cast a simple lock spell and sequestered myself at my desk, yanking the text I had on fairytale magic off of the shelf.

I hadn’t done much research on this curse because I had discounted it as a possibility. Stupid. I flipped through the thick pages until I came to the story of Sleeping Beauty. It was an extended section, detailing each curse and spell used by the evil sorceress in the story. I whisked past all of the protection spells and mage fire until I reached the section on the sleeping curse.

I skimmed the first paragraph describing how it was cast. I wasn’t interested in casting it; I wanted to know how exactly I’d ended up breaking it. Two pages and a lot of useless knowledge later, I was staring at my answer. My heart was hammering in my chest as my eyes drank in the words that would change the rest of my life.

Soul bonded.

I gulped and let my eyes drift back up the page to where it talked about why this particular curse had gained popularity. Apparently, when soul magic was just becoming known, those born to royalty were encouraged to try and find their soul mate. But very few born to royalty had any affinity for magic. So they contracted witches to help them.

Witches... I closed my eyes. Witches weren’t always... They weren’t always all that helpful. They would give you what you asked for, but not always what you wanted. And always for a price. Historically, witches were evil and hanged for their crimes, imagined or real.

At any rate, I had a feeling I knew where this story was headed. Regardless, I read on.

The witches were all too eager to help and they developed a curse that would put the target, often the royal heir, into an ageless sleep that could only be broken by their soul mate. It was extremely vague magic. There were no exceptions; so if the royal’s soul mate had already died, they would spend all eternity in the throes of the curse because the only person who could break it was already dead.

It was more harmful than helpful.

Everything was starting to make sense. Loki had been alive for over one thousand years. What were the odds that his soul mate was still alive? What were the odds that we’d be able to find his soul mate even if she did exist? The rogue had probably taken all of these things into account when she’d cursed him. And the council would be unable to go after her because, technically, she hadn’t killed anyone.

A frown tugged at my lips as I reread the last passage. I’m certain she thought that Loki would slumber forever while we tried to undo the curse. I bit my lip absently, thinking about the absolutely astronomical odds. There was so much that had to align just right. So many factors that had to come together.

And impossibly, they had.

I was Loki’s soul mate. I was the only person in the universe that could have broken the curse. And by acknowledging the magic between us, I had effectively bonded our souls together. That feeling of rightness I’d had? That was the beginning. The magic had already started stirring between us. When I had kissed him, I had bonded our souls together.

But I had no idea what that entailed.

A knock at my door jerked me from my contemplation. I released the locking spell and opened the door with a wave of my hand. Loki was standing in the doorway, his hand poised to knock again. He dropped his hand and propped himself up against the door frame.

“Want to come in?” I asked, fidgeting with the ring on my right index finger.

He didn’t say anything, but walked in and sat on my bed. I swung the door shut with a lazy flick of my fingers and spun my desk chair around to face him. I had some explaining to do if the look in his eyes was anything to go by. I dropped my eyes and swallowed thickly. I had no idea how I was going to tell him what I now knew to be true.

“Are you going to tell me how you broke the curse?”

I frowned, but nodded. “What do you know of soul magic?”

“Not much. It’s witch magic.”

I shook my head and lifted my eyes to his. “Soul magic belongs to no one. It’s ancient magic that works as it pleases. While it can be wielded by witches, it can’t always be controlled by them.”

He nodded and I stood up, too anxious to sit still. I started pacing, trying to plan my next words carefully.

“In the sixteenth century, soul magic gained popularity among royals, but they were mortal and unable to use it. They turned to the witches.”

I took a deep breath and watched as Loki took my words in. “I’m assuming you’re coming to some kind of point?”

I snapped my eyes up to his. “This is complicated magic. I’m trying to make it easier to understand. Do me a solid and shut the fuck up until I’m finished.”

He looked taken aback, but then he started grinning. He gestured for me to continue, taking my words to heart and shutting up. I huffed and rolled my eyes.

“The witches harnessed the soul magic and created a curse that would allow the recipient to find their soul mate.”

I paused because I needed a moment. Loki wasn’t stupid and I could already see the wheels turning in his head. I licked my lips and pressed forward.

“However, the recipient would then fall into a deep slumber. A coma, of sorts. The only way to break the curse was through a kiss from their soul mate. The joining of their lips created a soul bond and lifted the cursed one from their slumber.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “When Peter suggested kissing you, I didn’t take it seriously. The Sleeping Beauty curse is so old... there aren’t a whole lot of people capable of casting such a complex curse anymore. And the odds... Fuck, the odds are ridiculous.”

I stopped talking, letting the implications sink in. I sat back down and wrung my hands together. My eyes were glued to the carpet, unwilling to look at Loki. Logically, I knew that he must care for me as well; the magic wouldn’t allow a soul bond between two people that didn’t have the capability of developing a romantic relationship. It goes back to body chemistry.

And the bond... Fuck, I hadn’t even thought about that, yet. But I could feel it faintly thrumming along with my heartbeat. I took another deep breath and tried to bury the bond so that I wouldn’t have to deal with it. I wasn’t ready to deal with it. Not yet, anyway.

“So,” he started and I heard him stand up, “I’m guessing that we’re now soul bonded.”

I nodded, but continued my studious examination of my floor. He sighed and then his hands were cradling my face. He forced me to look at him.

“Is this result unpleasant for you?” he asked.

I was instantly horrified. Did he...? Did he think that I was the one who didn’t want this? I felt the bond open without my permission as I vigorously shook my head.

“No. I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.” My voice was desperate. I had to make him understand.

“Then I don’t understand your behavior. Why won’t you look at me?”

I saw the moment that understanding hit him. His eyes widened as my emotions flooded the bond and stunned him. I bit my lip.

“Never doubt my affections for you. Never. The magic may have chosen us, but I chose you a long time ago. I just haven’t been able to convey it before now.”

I could feel the truth of his words hum along the bond, his emotions reassuring me in addition to his words. I licked my lips again and then jumped as I felt a new emotion come through the bond. I couldn’t quite name it and before I could analyze it any further, Loki was kissing me.

I made a startled noise against his lips and he used the opening to slip his tongue into my mouth. My hands, that had been hanging out in my lap, reached up to clutch at his long hair. I felt the magic sizzle around us, intensifying everything. He tugged me out of the chair and pressed me right against him. His hands came to rest on my waist, holding me to him.

The bond was almost a physical thing as it responded to our shared emotions and kiss. The magic reacted to us, crackling through the air as we continued to explore each other’s mouths. I moaned as the electricity ran through my body, heightening the already intense connection.

He slowed the kiss, pulling his tongue back into his own mouth and leaving soft kisses on my lips. I opened my eyes and looked up at him. There was a small smile on his lips and his eyes were hooded. I returned his smile with one of my own. The bond calmed down and cooled off with us.

“I trust we’re on the same page now?” he asked lightly, sweeping a hand through my hair.

“Yes.”

“Good,” he whispered.

And then he leaned down and kissed me again. I was sure there were going to be plenty of questions in the next few days, but right now, none of it mattered. Right now, it was just me and Loki.

Right now, that was all I needed.

[justjessame]

If Only Someone Looked At Me Like They Look At Guns 3

I kept my promise to myself. As soon as the clock turned six o’clock, I was closing down. I’d taken care of the coffee and espresso machines, washing and wiping everything down, and then made sure the trash had been tossed in the alley dumpster. Checking the store to make sure I didn’t miss any stragglers and that the aisles and bookshelves were clear and neat, I finally locked the front door behind me after turning the sign to CLOSED.

A part of me wanted to look around, to see if I could catch anyone watching me, but I didn’t. Maybe I didn’t want to know. Maybe I was scared I’d see nothing and not know if that meant they weren’t watching me, or if I just had no ability to sense it. Better to just not check at all, I decided. I walked carefully back to my apartment, thinking longingly of a hot bubble bath and something warm to eat with a nice glass of iced tea.

Walking into my building, I felt a shiver run down my spine. I looked around, but again saw nothing. I shook it off and took the elevator, feeling like the stairs would be too much with my current mood. When the bell dinged my arrival at my floor, I stepped out and felt the chill again. Damn it, what the hell. I glanced around and again saw nothing. Squinting at the stairway door, I stalked to it. I jerked it open and there they stood, staring at me like I’d dropped down from the moon.

“What the hell?” I asked, careful not to raise my voice. Even with two stalkers, two stalkers who were admitted killers, I didn’t want to rouse the neighbors.

Murphy had the decency to look embarrassed at having been caught, but Connor’s eyes stared straight into mine. He was looking at me like he had all the right in the world to be standing on the stairs leading to my apartment. “Wanted ter make sure yer made it ‘ome.” He said, stepping out of the stairway into the hallway. Murphy followed him and I was about to object.

“Ain’t yer gonna invite us in?” Murphy asked, as they hovered over me.

I rolled my eyes and stomped to my door. Pushing the key into the double locks with more force than necessary, I pushed the door open and stood back. “Come on in.” I said, sweeping my hand to allow them to go first. “If you’re my bodyguards, I suspect you want to case the place to make sure no one is inside to hack me to pieces.”

“Yer ‘dorable when yer pissed.” Connor said, walking past me and reaching out as if to pat my head.

I growled in irritation. “If you want to keep the hand, don’t pat my head. I’m not a fucking dog.”

Murphy chucked, knocking away Connor’s hand. “Wonder if ye’d bite.” He pushed Connor inside and grabbed my hand to tug me in with him. “Come on, give us de gran’ tour.”

I bit my lip and closed the door behind me, locking it because my dad had always insisted. They turned at the locking and I shrugged. “My dad always said there wasn’t any use to have locks if you don’t use them.” I moved to stand in front of them. “Grand tour? Ok,” I pointed in front of us. “Living room. Over here,” A point to the left, “Kitchen and dining area. “The three doors down that small hallway are, “ I walked a little further into my living room and pointed at each in turn. “Guest room, bathroom, master bedroom. My bedroom has its own bathroom. Now if you want, you may go inspect them all for mass murderers. Wait, I found them.” I pointed at the two of them.

Connor rolled his eyes at me. “We ain’t mass murderers.”

“Yeah, we only kill dos dat deserve it.” Murphy agreed with his brother.

I smirked at them. “Actually the definition of mass murder is the act of murdering a number of people, typically simultaneously or over a relatively short period of time and in close geographic proximity. You guys fit that description, correct?”

That gobsmacked them. “What kind of woman can rattle off de definishun of mass murder like it’s a recipe for chicken?” Connor asked, looking like I’d just thrown a baby out a window.

“I own a bookstore,” I answered with a glare. “Did you boys imagine I didn’t like to read?”

Murphy got over his shock reasonably faster than Connor. “Full av surprises ain’t ya?”

I shrugged. “Anyway, if you want to take a look, go ahead. I’m going to fix dinner. For three, I guess.” I held back a sigh. There goes my relaxing evening to process the day.

I kicked off my sneakers and hung up my bag on the coat rack by the door. Walking to the kitchen, I was hoping I had enough beef to make spaghetti for the three of us. Finding all the ingredients I needed, I started dinner as I heard them opening and shutting doors in the bedrooms and bathrooms. Satisfied that I wouldn’t be killed in my secure apartment, I guess, they joined me in the kitchen.

“If you want something to drink,” I said, putting the pasta in water on the stove. “There’s stuff in the fridge.” I stirred the sauce I’d already started. The beef and italian sausage were browning in another pan. “Oh and whichever one of you goes for a drink, could you hand me the loaf of bread out of the cabinet beside the fridge?”

I heard the fridge open and a bit of a groan. “Minerals and cold tea? Do ya not ‘av any real drinks?” Murphy asked. Minerals? Must be soda.

“If you were hoping for alcohol, you should have stayed at Doc’s.” I said, turning around and marching to the cupboard to get my bread down. “That’s what I have, so drink it or have water.”

I moved back to the counter by the stove to slice the bread and butter it with fresh made garlic butter. The oven was already on and ready to go once the pasta and sauce was finished. I layered the bread on a sheet and set it aside. While I was working I heard them take glasses out of the strainer by the sink and pour something.

“Ugh, tis sweet!” Connor spat, clearly having picked my tea. I chuckled. Murphy was silent, so I had to turn to see what his face must look like.

“It’s sweet iced tea, Connor, I’m southern for fuck’s sake. What did you expect?” I laughed at his grimace and saw Murphy’s glass was still completely full. “Scared, Murphy?”

He glared at me and took a small sip. His face contorted, but he swallowed. “‘Tis not dat brutal, Connor.” I giggled at the two of them. Dear God, they both look like they’d been poisoned.

“Give me the glasses.” I rolled my eyes, and poured the offending liquid into a large lidded cup for me to sip on while I worked. I rinsed the glasses out and opened the fridge to dig for a minute. Dad hadn’t been to visit much, but I’d gotten him some beer when he had, moving food around I found two bottles. Guiness, because I wanted him to broaden his horizons. There were two more left after I filled their glasses, Dad hadn’t been a fan. “Here, better?” I asked, holding up the bottles to show that there wouldn’t be any more surprises.

“Aye, ‘tis better.” Connor said, taking a long draw from his glass, clearly trying to get rid of the taste of my tea.

Murphy didn’t speak, just mirrored his brother.

I strained the browned meat and added it to my simmering sauce. Then I strained the pasta and put it back into the pot. Baked spaghetti and nearly homemade garlic bread sounded like heaven. Opening back up the fridge, I grabbed fresh mozzarella and parmesan and began layering my pasta, sauce, and cheese into a casserole dish. I could feel them watching, but I was too in my happy place to care. Once everything was ready, in the oven it went. I turned back to them after I put the dirty pots and pans in the sink.

“What?” I asked, seeing that they were eyeing me. “I’m sure you’ve seen a woman cook dinner before.”

“What are ya makin’?” Murphy asked, glancing at the pots and pans, as I moved to put away the leftover ingredients.

I tossed my answer over my shoulder. “Baked spaghetti and garlic bread.” I stood up and took my adult sippy cup to the table. “Let me grab the plates and silverware and I’ll have a seat until it’s done.” Connor stood up and Murphy followed suit. “Naw, yer cooked, let us set de table.”

Sitting down, I smiled and pointed at the cabinet and drawer they’d need. Soon three plates and all the silverware necessary for dinner were on the table. “So, are you going to tell me why you followed me home?” I asked, when they sat back down with their glasses. “Or do I have to assume the worst of you two?”

They grinned at me. “Tink yer already tink de worst.” Murphy said, taking a drink, but not taking his eyes off me.

“An’ nathin’ we say wud change dat.” Connor agreed, taking his own sip and staring as well.

I rolled my eyes as the timer dinged. “You’re not getting away without answering.” I stood and grabbed two oven mitts. I pulled out the bread and pasta dish. “Can one of you grab that heavy towel hooked on the sink?” Murphy did, and I gestured for him to lay it in the middle of the table. I placed the casserole dish down on it. “Don’t want to ruin my tabletop, do I?” I tossed the bread into a lined basket and carried it over to put down as well. “Connor, the drawer under the one you got the silverware out of has the serving spoons, can you grab one?” He did and soon we were dishing out dinner.

We ate in almost silence. I say almost because every now and then, I could swear they were talking animatedly in their heads. I’d heard of twins being able to do it, but sitting in front of them and witnessing it was plain weird. “You know you’re being rude, right?” I asked, putting down my fork and taking a sip of my tea. They both looked at me startled. “You’re having a really long conversation that I can’t hear, much less be a part of, that’s rude.” I picked up my fork and went back to my food.

“Didn’t mean ter be rude,” Connor said, looking at me with renewed interest.

Murphy nodded. “Don’t even realize we’re doin’ it ‘alf de time.”

I grinned, thinking it was rude, but made sense. “Well, you are, and it’s just as rude as speaking Russian or Italian in front of me.” Now they looked uncomfortable. “Don’t worry, I didn’t understand a word. I just think it’s rude.”

They both sighed, and I was taken in by the fact that they were mirrors. Connor was left handed. Murphy right. Their hand tattoos were on their dominant hand and that’s the hand they held their forks in. Their other tattoos, which now that their pea coats were off, having been hung on the coat rack with my bag, weren’t mirrors, but they were identical. Celtic crosses on their arms, Mother Mary on their necks, only Murphy had one that Connor didn’t. A star on his hand above the ‘e’ in Aequitas. They ate and drank like mirrors, but looked so different otherwise.

I waited while I studied them, knowing they were having another internal conversation. Rude, but understandable. Their eyes, I realized, both so blue they felt like I could touch the ocean if I held their gaze. That was almost the same. Oh and the fact that they both clearly had a blind barber.

“Yer right.” Connor said, repinning me with his eyes.

“We shouldn’t blather in front of ya in a languages yer don’t understan’.” Murphy agreed, also staring me down.

I nodded, “I understand the need for it this morning. I do,” I tried assuring them. “But now, I know who you are, could we keep it to a minimum?” I sighed, wondering why I was inviting this mess into my clearly sane life. “If it’s about your plans, fine, I don’t want to know. If it’s about ME, could you please just say it? OUT LOUD.”

I received two sets of nods. “Good.” I said, moving to put my plate in the sink. “I need to take a bath,” I closed my eyes, hoping I wasn’t going to regret what I was about to offer. “If you want, the guest bedroom and couch are available. For tonight at least.” I looked out the window and could see that darkness had fallen while we ate. “I’d hate for you two to get picked up after following me home.”

“That’d be awesum.” Murphy said, a smile growing.

Connor smiled, too. “”Preciate it.”

I nodded again. Feeling a bit like a bobble head doll tonight, I thought. “OK, I’ll be out in awhile.” I moved to my bedroom, feeling their eyes watch me the whole way.

I was happy to see that while they’d apparently opened the doors and looked around my bedroom and bathroom, they weren’t complete lurkers and didn’t paw through my drawers. I grabbed fresh clothes and sighed with the understanding that I’d only be braless for the bath. Half the joy of womanhood, I thought, crossing to my bathroom and starting the water, was coming home after a long day and whipping my bra off. Ugh, boys.

With that thought, I tossed off my clothes and settled into my warm bubble bath. The water was high enough to cover me to my armpits and for awhile I just sat soaking. Long day didn’t really cover it. Between my dad’s call of warning about the very men sitting in my apartment, and the very men in my apartment themselves, it had been a long month it seemed. I chuckled thinking of my dad finding out they were here, then sobered immediately. He’d call the authorities. He’d have them arrested in front of me. My heart clutched at the mere thought of it. Why? I wondered, why did I care?

I considered the fear I felt for them. The reason I was letting them stay with me, instead of insisting they go back to Doc’s. I didn’t want them to be hurt. I didn’t think they should be taken in by the police. I knew murder was wrong. Hell, even though I wasn’t much for church, even I knew the Ten Commandments. “Thou shall not kill.” It’s a big one. Of course, so was adultery, and for the life of me I couldn’t quite reconcile don’t fuck the married ones, with don’t smother people. Shaking my head, I tried to relax.

How could I? I thought, thinking of the two of them out in my kitchen or living room, sitting around like they belonged here, and I’m up to my armpits in warm, bubbly water. Naked. My head fell back against the tiled wall. Ugh. The two of them, those accents, those damn eyes. This had been a really bad idea. Having them here, nearby, close enough to touch. I tried to form a mantra to keep my sanity. “They’ve killed people. They’re killers.” And damn it if a sneaky part of my subconscious didn’t chime in with “only the ones that deserved it.”

Practically growling at my own damn traitorous mind, I started scrubbing myself with a vengenous. Scouring away the want wasn’t easy, but I worked hard to try to. My skin was a bright pink by the time I decided I was finished. Washing my hair just as hard, my scalp was tingling from the scrape of my nails. Unplugging the tub, I stood letting the water roll off my body and down the drain. Grabbing a towel to wrap my hair in, I took another to wrap around my body. The best part about being tiny was not having to buy enormous bath sheets to cover myself.

The mirror over my double sinks was steamed up, so I turned on the overhead fan. Stretching and cracking my neck, I felt the stress being relieved from the warmth of the bath and from just relaxing period. I dried off and pulled on my pajama bottoms over my panties. I glared at the sports bra, constrictive, but required with present company. Sighing I pulled it over my head and adjusted myself until my breasts were perfect. Then, I tugged on a loose t-shirt. Comfort, thy name is Tessa.

I exited the bathroom and grabbed the book I’d left on my bedside table. I could hear them talking, but I thought I heard more voices. When I walked out to the living room I had to smile. They were watching television, an action movie of some sort and were doing their own commentary.

Checking the television, I realized it wasn’t some action movie. “Con Air?” I giggled, throwing myself onto the sofa between the bickering boys. “What fault could the two of you possibly have with Nick Cage’s masterpiece?”

This truly got them going. “Neck Cage is it?” Connor asked, eyes shooting daggers at the screen.

“He’s a sissy.” Murphy agreed. Shooting his own glare at the movie.

Connor gritted. “Luk at ‘is ‘air!”

“an' 'alf de shoite yer man does ain’t believable,” Murphy added, pointing at something happening on the screen.

Looking between them, I had to laugh. Then Connor’s eyes gave the first hint of approval. “Though yer man does know de importance av rope.”

That broke me. I started laughing so hard that tears formed. They were watching me now, curious and possibly a little worried. “My man?” I snorted. “Dear lord, the two of you watching this damn movie like you’re filing it away for later. Please don’t tell me this is where your ideas come from.” They were quiet, far too quiet, and not in the internal dialog way. Shit, is this really where their inspiration came from, MOVIES?

They both looked down at me almost sheepishly. My laughter died away. “Seriously?” I asked, looking between the two of them. “Action movies?” They were still focused on me processing their muse. “Which stars are you trying to emulate?” What the hell? If they were crazy, I was in too deep.

“Duke Wayne is a gran’ wan.” Murphy whispered, seeing a bit embarrassed.

Connor nodded. “Charlie Bronson as well.”

“How have you two managed to survive?” I asked, confused by their complete idiocy. “You've been taking on TRAINED killers using moves you learned in MOVIES?” I sat stymied by the mere thought of how much luck went into them not being gunned down by now. “How many times?” I asked, and realized I may need them to explain what I was asking. “Have you been shot, how many times?”

This time I knew they were discussing within themselves what to tell me. “The truth, please.” I begged. If I was going to let them in my life, I had to know.

They nodded to one another. I nearly crawled out of my skin when they stood up and started disrobing. “Wait!” I raised my voice just enough to get their attention. “What the fuck are you doing?”

They each raised a shoulder, and kept pulling up their shirts. “Yer wan ter know.” Connor said, pulling his head free from his t-shirt.

“Tart it bes to jus show ya.” Murphy said, once his was free from his own. When their hands came to their belts, I jumped up.

“Jesus!” I said, stopping their hands with a hard gesture.

“Lord’s name.” They both admonished. I rolled my eyes, sure ok, taking the Lord’s name in vain is bad, but stripping in front of someone you barely knew isn’t. Just to show their battle scars. For fuck’s sake.

“Sure, ok.” I said, happy they had stayed their hands. Was it really this warm in my apartment or was I just that freaking turned on. Looking between the two of them I couldn’t make my mind work. Shit. What was the damn question again?

[weeklyfangirl]

Frat Boy Pt. 13

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 (1), part 7 (2), part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12

HI WOW TIME HAS SERIOUSLY FLOWN BY FOR ME - enjoy your fratty frat boy in all his angsty glory ;) Let me know what you guys think I miss you!!

“Down to watch Hocus Pocus and pass out candy to wee ones? My parents invited me down.”

Renny’s eyes softened, imagining the cuteness of last year when a toddler showed up dressed as a magnet with an attached note card saying “chick.”

“Okay, usually, yes, but the-”

“DG’s,” I groaned.

Midterms were creeping up and I was slowly dying between late night grading biology tests and the stress that’d been building up wondering about what in the fuck Harry had going on in his mind. He was hot, he was cold, and I wasn’t sure if this was all a massive game to him. It’d been relatively silent on the Harry front ever since the day of island paradise. The memory of his penetrating eyes examining me on the pier, and the twinge of electricity between us had inspired my wandering fingers more than once. I wouldn’t admit that to him, hell, I could barely admit that to myself.

I’d been too stubborn to text him, but not too stubborn enough to wear his sweatshirt out this morning. If we were friends, wearing his sweatshirt wouldn’t be weird. Technically he’d just invited me to meet his dad, which I admit, stung a bit, but a part of me couldn’t give up that he wasn’t into me. Could eyes lie so easily?

The ball was technically in my court to tell him whether or not I’d be going, so…

I slurped a scalding sip of tea, cringing at the inevitable. “Welp, if you’re going to ditch me for the DGs then I might as well go to Harry’s.”

She smirked, “I know.” 

I smacked her arm. “Is that why you’re ditching me?!”

“Hey, I’m not ditching you. It’s a thing for new recruits. You were invited, too.”

My ear still ringed with my mom’s shrill scream on the other end of the line when I’d told her - though I’m not sure if she’d be more excited by the fact that her daughter was going to visit the Styles residence or a sorority party.

Renny continued, “And please, as if you’d really go hang out at your parent’s alone when you have an offer to play co-host with Mr. Hunky Mystery Man. We’re sad sometimes, but we’re not that sad. Actually…”

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just… I’m surprised Harry isn’t going to be at the frat’s party.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “He said it was a family tradition.”

Renny’s brows rose at the F word. 

“Okay, but their house is also huge, I doubt it’s going to be an intimate affair.” Truthfully, I was excited to see how their house would be decorated. When I told my mother I probably wouldn’t be coming home to pass out candy, she’d told me not to worry. The neighbors were coming over and they had a couple of cheap wine bottles to drain. I’m sure not telling her I was going to the Styles's house wasn’t going to be that big of a deal.

“Are you kidding me? If Harry hands out a grand to cabana men then I can’t imagine what they’re going to spend on this party. Honestly, I’m kind of jealous.”

“Wait- what? He gave Ben a thousand dollars?”

 “Is Ben the cabana man?”

 “Yes.”

 “Then yes. Or about a grand, I mean I didn’t count it myself but it was a thick. Stack.” Renny’s brows shot up. “You seriously didn’t see that?”

 No wads of cash were in my memories. I was too busy retreating away to the golf cart to notice any grandiose money exchange. Ben’s words when he was saying goodbye to me at the golf cart suddenly flashed in my mind - tell him thank you for me.

 Thank you.

 I hadn’t even assumed the reason why. Probably because out of all things, I wouldn’t have guessed that.

 Renny tapped on her lips, signalling to mine that I painted a nice neutral. “Like the shade. What’s it for?”

 I looked to my watch. “Zayn. And I’m actually going to be late.”

 “Ugh, not fair!! Why can’t I have an artist draw me?”

 “Please, Felix was practically drooling over you last year, and he’s a graphic designer, right? I’m sure he has some sketches of you locked away in a cabinet somewhere.”

 Something that resembled a blush spread on her cheeks.

 “Oh my god. Does he?!”

 “He probably got rid of it by now.”

 I shook my head, scooping up my tea and 50 pound school bag with me. Leave it to Renny to have a collection of men up her sleeve at any given time. Even the beautiful brainy boy.

 “Tell Niall to try drawing,” I called back. The mention of the frat star turned a few heads at the crowded campus coffee shop, and I bit my lip at the scene, skirting across campus to the art studios where people wishing to escape found their haven.

 ---

 “A little to the left,” he murmured. His golden brown eyes peered over the white canvas, tirelessly scrupulous as they focused on each feature, and I felt my heart beat faster at the intensity of attention. “A little up.”

 My head tilted to his command, my exposed neck feeling even more naked as I noticeably swallowed.

 Did he hear that? Did the music need to be played louder?  

 “Beautiful.” He reached for another charcoal pencil in his kit. “Have you been in here before?” His voice gently rose over the Coldplay softly playing from the speaker system.

 “No, not yet,” I admitted. “I was going to take a ceramics class, but I dropped it the first week. Not exactly the sculptor type.”

 “So you’re not the artist, more the painting?”

 My brows furrowed. “What?”

 “I’m taking ceramics,” he said, not bothering to clarify.  

 “Yeah? You like it?”

 He didn’t answer, sweeping his pencil across the page - the aesthetic lulling of the way it scratched along the paper making me realize that yes, he’d definitely heard me gulping earlier.

 The soothing noise didn’t stop, and he didn’t answer for a time that seemed much longer than a minute. I wonder what Harry was doing right now? Was he in class? Practice? Not that I should even be thinking about him.

 The little smug version of me was dancing in my brain, delighting in the fact that somebody else was paying attention to me, that there were other people who found me desirable besides Harry. Sure, this was solely for Zayn’s assignment, and yeah, Harry could easily have any number of women he merely glanced at - but me? I could get by without him just fine, and-

 “Your face comes across so soft on paper. Gentle,” he said, glancing first at his work, then up to me, as if trying to see if the reality mirrored the copy.

 I shifted nervously, but the swivel chair was more sensitive than I’d thought and I almost went flying off the other side. He laughed a bit, before taking his top lip between his fingers.

 “Look, I’ve nearly got this one finished right. I’ve got your basic outline to finish the rest on my own, creative liberties ‘n that, but I’ll need a few more still lifes from you if that’s…”

 “Yeah! That’s fine.”

 “Might be a longshot with the holiday, but do you mind coming in this weekend?”

 Plans of the Styles’ Halloween bash rang as a reminder, and it buzzed throughout my entire body. “I can’t, actually. I’m going to a party, I think.”

 “Really!” he set down the pencil dramatically. “Am I going to see you in a plaid skirt up your bum again, missy?”

 “Ouch, no! But fair. Cringeworthy, but fair.” I slid down the chair, crossing my arms. His eyes didn’t change in their intensity even if he wasn’t holding a pencil. “It’s the Styles’ Halloween bash Saturday. I’m guessing it’s a family-friendly affair so no, I will not be in anything showing any skin, anywhere. I guess they do it every year.”

 Realization sunk in, but it seemed a bit of a show. “Harry, yeah, that’s right. Are you two…?”

 I shook my head, thinking of what Harry must say when (or if) he got asked the same question. There was no doubt in my mind.

 “No.”

 It was some weird “in between” with us, but no was a much easier answer.

 “Right, well, that’ll be interesting then.” He bit his cheek, mulling over something he wasn’t quite sure he should say.

 “What?”

 He opened his mouth, closed it again. “Nothing, it’s just… I can’t imagine what it’s like to be a part of that family. It’s got a lot of history.”

 “Yeah? Like what?”

 “Let’s just say there aren’t that many British boys that get adopted by Americans.”

 I tilted my head back, put off at the slight arrogance in his tone. There was a protective side of me that wanted to rear its head and bristle whenever somebody talked down to Harry, and I wasn’t sure how to put it away.

 “I’m not sure what you mean.”

 “You can look up the story, but-”

 A knock at the door, and a petite black-bobbed Asian girl peered her head in.

 “Hi, I have the room at 5:30.”

 I glanced to the clock on the wall, just a little past.

 “We’re finishing up,” he said. She nodded, not budging. A little territorial over the studio space. Which, I completely get. Once midterm season hits, the library starts to resemble a refugee posting with people camped outside cubicles and “quiet rooms,” hoping for the prior group to leave a little earlier if they didn’t have reservations of their own.

 “Yeah, we’re done.”  I picked up my bag, and put my beanie over my head.

 “Well, I’ll be in touch then. Sometime next week?” He followed me to the door, and placed a hand to my lower back. I stopped, trying to discern if there was something else behind his eyes. Maybe this hadn’t just been for a project.

 But his hand was removed just as quickly, and with a little “See ya,” he closed the door behind me.

 -----------

 Lines of vintage cars parked outside the Styles’s home wasn’t what I’d been expecting when Harry had shot a text that it was a masquerade gala. Maybe it should’ve, but it wasn’t. I squinted my eyes at a woman in a neon vest waving around her flashlight to the approaching cars and signalling them to available spots along the street.

 How was I meant to find him in this madness?

 “Here is fine,” I told the Lyft driver. I’d bit the bullet (or rather, my wallet) to get a ride. I thought I’d bypass the embarrassing “car dying” scenario again and just play it safe. Not that I was expecting to spend the night again… the toothbrush I’d stuffed in my purse screamed otherwise, and seemed to burn a hole into my thigh.

 But still, totally not expecting to spend the night.

 Totally …. not ….

 The sound of the Uber leaving made me realize I was doing this. Again. Willingly walking into the lion’s den simultaneously with at least ten other well-dressed individuals.

 Expect me tonight, I’d sent. It was a little bold. I had to refrain from sending any emojis, but I’d done it. Played it cool.

 Wear a mask, he’d replied. And I felt my stomach drop a little bit. He hadn’t said-

 Cool! Gee, thanks for letting me know! Wow that’s so nice to hear! You made my day!

 No.

 Just a simple three word request. Actually, more like demand. I bristled the same moment my phone buzzed.

 Please.

 I sighed. I guess it was four words.

 Of all the themes to pick though… I rolled my eyes at “masquerade.” Renny had done the opposite, and flew to her dresser, opening a drawer full of toys and masks and - oh my gosh was that a leash? She handed me one, black lace over the eyes that could lift up and over the cat headpiece. I didn’t ask any questions for why she had this so readily available, because guessing from the other contents in the drawer, I already knew the answer.

 “You look-” Renny kissed her fingertips- “Bellissima.”

 Older, sophisticated silver foxes arm-in-arm with their wives took the time to glance at the young woman approaching the estate.

 I blamed it on the deep red dress Renny stole from the theater department (or borrowed as she insisted). It fanned out with dramatic flair like an 18th century production of Shakespeare would - or how our school’s production of Much Ado About Nothing would (which was now short one costume).

 The doors opened to the tinkling of a piano.

 Amidst cocktail waiters weaving between the masked strangers, someone was actually playing it. He had brown curly hair and I practically raced to his side to avoid standing in the foyer alone any longer.

 “I didn’t know you could play.”  

 The man quirked his face, his hands not stopping.

 Even with the mask I could tell it wasn’t Harry.

 “Oh, sorry,” I said, stumbling back.

 Hands gripped my shoulders, as lips went to my ear-

 “Not well.”

 Twisting in his grasp, the familiar curve of his smirk appeared. His green eyes were highlighted by golden flakes etched into a black mask, and my breath quite literally caught in my throat. Somehow, each time, I forgot the magnetism they held. And somehow, each time, I forgot that I was absolute putty in his hands.

 “I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”

 Something flashed in his eyes and I knew it didn’t come out right. “The house looks… amazing.”

 I was floundering, FLOUNDERING.

 His nose crinkled the same time he placed a hand to the small of my back. “Too many cobwebs.”

 And without a word, he started leading me through the crowded rooms. Cobwebs over the banister and scary paintings of haunted people replaced the usual art in their home - except for the centered family portrait, intimidatingly framed in gold. The cobwebs were a fitting touch. I wondered how many secrets these walls held, how many years things have been kept in the dark, or swept under the rug.

 Every family had them, but something told me this place had enough storage in all its rooms to hold more than I could imagine.  

 We passed a room set-up with aisles of empty chairs and a projector screen that read “Jane Foundation.” Pamphlets and envelopes were lain on each of the chairs, but we walked too quickly for me to get a closer read.

 “What’s that for?”

 “Later. You don’t know?”

 I shook my head. He slowed to a halt in the hallway.

 “My parents put on a fundraiser every year for the children’s hospital. It’s how we end the evening.”

 My mouth opened and again- floundering. He scratched behind his ear.

 “Yeah, I thought.. I don’t know, I thought everyone knew. But I shouldn’t assume I guess.”

 I just shrugged my shoulders, accepting that his family had the capacity to pull something like this off. That the were pulling this off. That I was even here. Clearly living ten minutes away was certifiably living under a rock.

 He paused, a slight quirk in his lips. With the distraction of the music and the people, I hadn’t had the chance to really look at him. Or him, at me. If anyone ever asked, I’d call him shameless, but I wouldn’t even call it that as he drank me in. It didn’t seem as intentional as that. It was instinctive.

 I drank him in as well, and even if it was just a brief moment facing each other in the hallway with masked strangers streaming through, it felt like it was just him and I. How long had we been like this? Broad shoulders in a nice suit, a tall frame that could cover and protect, brown curls that looked so soft to touch, and eyes that spoke of scary pasts and a soft heart that locked me still in place. He was walking poetry and as much as it made me sick, I didn’t want to stop. I wanted him closer, to lean in closer...

 “Come on,” he murmured, but this time he was in front of me.

 I followed, straight to the dining room.

 “Oh, you are trying to get me to not fit into this dress,” I said. It was full of catered food from the nicest restaurants in Coast Hills. Last time I’d been in this room, it hadn’t been the most comfortable encounter. Now that the corset was digging into my ribs and I was a little short of breath, I predicted I was in for Awkward Dinner Part II.

 “You aren’t hungry?” He faltered, turning to face me.

 I gave a coy smile. “Well I didn’t say that…”

 “Hey! So good to see you.”

 Gemma burst through a small cluster of people, Charlie right behind her. His navy suit matched her slip dress, tapering off at the ends like the foam from a wave.

 She embraced me, Charlie soon after. But it was the same side-hug squeeze that made me remember him. Harry noticed my grimace. Charlie noticed Harry noticing me.

 “All good?” Charlie pulled back.

 “My brother did that all the time,” I said. Harry handed me a glass full of champagne, and I took it, happy to have something else occupy my mouth. I hadn’t expected to say that at all.

 “I didn’t know you had a brother,” Harry said.  

 “You don’t know a lot of things.”

 Gemma perked up. “That’s right, put him in his place.”

 “He’s not around much so, I don’t think to talk about him much.” I left it at that, a slight offering to make Harry feel less offended. His expression was impossible to read, and I wasn’t sure if my words had actually helped or hurt.

 “I have a sister like that. Moved to Lisbon with her boyfriend. We see her on holidays though.” Charlie jumped with a chill. “Jiminy- it’s cold in here, isn’t it?”

 “Have more wine babes, it’ll cheer you up,” Gemma said. And just like me, a champagne flute was suddenly in his hands.

 “Well we were just headed to get some food,” Harry mentioned, eyes slightly widening when they locked with mine - a silent plea to take his cue.

 “Wait! Let me take a picture really quickly.”

 “Gemma,” he sighed.

 “Just a little one! Just a quick...second...” She dug in her purse, struggling to juggle the wine and the mini plate of couscous and falafel.

 I took a step to the side as soon as she pulled the camera out.

 “Hello? Where do you think you’re going? Get back in there.”

 Harry raised his brows to me, both in annoyance and apology. I stood next to him, and he placed an arm around me. It was just for a moment, but I still felt him. Always.

 Gemma smiled at her phone. “Aww, this is perfect. I’ll send it to mom, too. She’ll like it.” She said the last bit cautiously.  

 Harry’s face turned unreadable, his eyes complete stone.

 “One for me now,” she said, reaching down for something else.

 “I swear, she can hide an elephant in that bag and the only reason someone would know is because it’d trumpet during the previews.”

 She pulled out a polaroid camera. Somehow, in the past five seconds, he’d gone from mildly annoyed and embarrassed to deadpanned over it. I wouldn’t be surprised if he actually growled.

 She held up the camera so I smiled, but as the flash went off and I looked beside me - he was gone.

 “Oh! Harry,” she scolded, but he’d already walked too far away. I saw him weave his way towards the windows of the house and look out.

 “You shouldn’t have mentioned her.” Charlie kicked his shoe. He saw Harry too, looking vigilantly out the window. A second longer and he turned on his heel. He stood taller as he made his way back.

 “Well, at least it’ll be a good picture of you. I’m creating a little collage of the evening.” Gemma put the camera away in her big bag. She reminded me of a mom on prom night and suddenly I felt like I should send that photo to someone, too.

 “That’s so cool! I’m sure it’s going to look so… cute.” Through the crowd, Harry motioned to the food. Clearly, he wasn’t in the mood to say brief goodbyes to his sister.

 “We won’t keep you. Get the pasta pops though. To die for,” Gemma said. “Charlie and I were going to take a stroll by the pool if you want to join us after.”

 “Yes! Oh, and would you mind sending me the photo, too? My mom wants proof I’m alive tonight.”

 “God, of course. Here.” She gave the champagne flute to Charlie, typed in my number, and sent it off.

 “We’ll see you later,” Charlie said.

 “The pasta poppers!” she exclaimed, flute in the air as they weasled their way out to the patio.

 Before I could wonder where Harry was, he met me by the Sprinkles cupcakes stand.

 “Going for dessert first?”

 “Looking for the moon?” I picked one of the mini cupcakes and plopped it in my mouth to spite him. He bit the inside of his cheek and looked away for a split second before looking back. His smile grew.

 “Damn it.”

 My heart picked up its pace.

 “You caught me.”

 He held another cupcake to my lips but I shook my head. “I’m hungry for real food right now.”

 He nodded, and without me saying another word, he took my elbow to bring me to his side. It was comforting to have his hand at my back as we walked through the spread of food. Even if it was lightly placed, in a crowd full of people I didn’t know, at least I had a place with him. My eyes widened when I saw them. The glorious, innovative Pasta Pops. AKA rolled up ball of pesto pasta on chopsticks… I grabbed four.

 “So, when am I seeing your dad?”

 “What?” He piled more food on top of the mountain already growing on his plate.

 “Your dad. The reason why you invited me.” I didn’t believe it. Not anymore. The host of the party wasn’t going to sit down and talk about a potential internship at his own full-fledged party.

 I put a Pasta Pop in my mouth. His attention broke and he watched my lips go over the ball, puckering as I pulled it to the tip. It’s when my lips came off with a “pop” that he sucked in a cheek, smirking.

 “You won’t be talking with Lionel long. Doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy yourself in the meantime.”

 But when I reached over someone’s arm to grab a slider, they stopped me.

 “Hey, you.”

 His eyes lit up and instantly I was drawn in for an awkward hug. Behind his back, I mouthed did you plan this?

 He shrugged his shoulders and looked away with a sly look.

 Lionel pulled away from our quick embrace and looked to my pile of food. It was my turn for the awkward shrug.

 “No, it’s good! Keep going! We have enough food here to feed a small country. Are you still thinking about medicine?”

 “Yeah, not much has changed in the past couple of weeks. Same old, same old.”

 He paused, raising a finger. “I gave you my card, right?”

 How could I forget the card that’s been burning a hole through my dresser…

 “Yes. I’ve been meaning to call you, but I’ve been so busy studying with these midterms, and work, too...” I let my voice fade.  

 “What do you do for work?”

 Harry slowed as he picked up a napkin, and I knew he was listening in even if he wouldn’t stop and join the conversation. I watched his eyes skirt across the table close to where my hand toyed with the serving spoon.

 “Well, I’m a T.A. right now, but I’m also working in the physical therapy room on campus. It’s pretty easy for the most part, blood doesn’t scare me.”

 “Good. You’ll need a strong stomach for most cases.” A man tapped him on the shoulder, stealing his attention. “Give me a call when you can, we’ll set something up at the practice.”

 He leaned in behind Harry, both hands on his back. “Take care of her tonight.”

 Harry stiffened. I’m not sure why. Lionel had such a warm look in his eyes, I automatically trusted him. As he left with his friend, he flashed us one white smile, and I felt loved.

 What the heck was in this family. What kind of beauty steroids did they take?

 “Penny for your thoughts?”

 The quip sounded weird coming from Harry, the Vogue Italia model, leaning against the table. But then again, I was looking after his father with a dazed look on my face that was screaming “I wish I was 40 and you weren’t married.” I snapped out of it and mimicked his pose, equally skeptical.

 “If I hadn’t seen your dad here just now, I swear I wouldn’t have seen him at all. I barely recognize the place with so many…”

 “People?”

 I nodded.

 “I promised that you’d talk to him.”

 “Riiiight.”

 “You don’t trust me?”

 My brows rose. “That’s a loaded question.”

 A spark of indignance puffed up his chest. “What? You actually have to think about that?”

 “I’m just saying. Communication is usually the key to building that up. Just, you know, a friendly tip to help you with those future relationships.” I tapped his chest, and he reached for my wrist. A bold move, sober. He thought so, too, for he dropped it a second later. I was waiting for a, “You can trust me,” but instead he turned serious.

 “Smart girl.”

 He looked at me that way again. A little too deep, a little too long, and I cursed myself for not knowing what to do. He took a bit of his bottom lip between his teeth.

 “I didn’t know you worked in the therapy room.”

 “That’s because you never noticed me before.”

 “Ah, ah,” he raised a finger like his father. “That’s because I’ve never been injured before.”

 I let out a short laugh. “You’re an arrogant thing, aren’t you.”

 “Just honest.”

 Honest.

 But would you answer if I asked, Harry? Would you answer if I asked you what in the heck we were doing? Did I even want to know the answer?

 “I’m really glad you’re here,” he said. And it looked like there was something more swimming behind those eyes.

 “I am, too,” I said. “Much better than a sorority party...” My eyes narrowed. “What in the-”

 “Y/N?”

 Clearly, Viv was just as surprised to see me. Mary Styles was beside her, and she raised her glass to me in a distant hello before giving Viv a kiss on the cheek, excusing herself.

 “What are you doing here?” The silver blue dress she wore was glued to her skinny frame like snakeskin. Harry shifted his feet as she came closer and I wonder if he noticed how tight it was.

 “I followed the noise and traffic directors and decided to hop the gates,” I said.  

 “You didn’t get the initiate invite?”

 An almost pitiful look befell Harry. “You had somewhere else to be?” His puppy dog eyes confused me.

 “Technically, yes. I just, um” - I looked to Viv - “decided to spend my evening somewhere else. You didn’t care to go either?”

 “Oh, I come every year. I practically live in the guest room anyways.”

 I pictured Viv laying poolside during summer barbeques, coming around for Christmas parties, and waking up in her silk pajamas to Sven handing her delicious pastries.  

 “Well this’ll be fun anyways. We’ll have our own little sorority party here.” She turned to Harry. “Can I speak to you for a second?”

 “Yeah.”

 She looked at me apologetically, then back to him. “Alone.”

 His eyes narrowed just the slightest, but he didn’t even have to think about it. He placed a hand at my back. “I’ll just be a second.”

 Viv gave me a half-smile as she interlinked her arm through his, and they left, abandoning me in a swarming crowd with cold sliders. Without him beside me, I fought the ever-present urge that I didn’t belong, but wandering to the glass doors, I saw the red gown in the reflection, the black lace of my mask. I didn’t look like regular ‘ol me tonight. Nobody knew me tonight. A rush of confidence ran through me.

 I was somebody. With, or without Harry.  

 A twinkling bell carried through the halls the same time I stood a little taller. The piano music died down and everyone quieted.

 “I hope everyone is enjoying their evening,” the shrill voice of Mary Styles carried higher as she placed herself atop the spiral staircase. Some people clapped a little prematurely and she smiled at them graciously. “If everyone could please begin filing into the foundation room, we are about to begin the programme.”

 I stole another flute of champagne. Programme.

 The twinkling sound rang again and people began handing their plates over so they could grab their wallets. Several men apologized as they bumped into me, trying to move around the cocktail waiters. Wherever Harry was, he’d just have to find me later. I followed the crowd when my blood ran cold.

 There was something sweet in the air.

 The air around me seemed thinner. I looked around, quickly, but all I saw were masks. Even if they didn’t have them on, their faces were starting to blur in my mind.

 But that too-sweet scent would never.

 It was the man from Kean’s.

 I inhaled again, but it was gone, carried away and overpowered by Dior perfume and Gucci cologne. Were they here? Were they watching me? Were they waiting to get me alone?

 They’d done it before. Maybe it’d be easier this time...

 My mind went to horrible places, and suddenly I was running against the sea.

 I scanned as I ran, but it was futile. I burst through the kitchen doors and froze. There, Mary Styles was heaving over the trashcan spitting out strands of pesto pasta.

 She looked up at me with the emptiest eyes I’d seen.

 “I’m-I’m sorry.”  I bumped into the counter, stumbling out the way I came. Her glossy eyes were haunting. Had I just seen Mrs. Styles eject the contents of her stomach?

 Alone, I shook it off, trying to calm my breathing. They couldn’t do anything to me here. Hell, Mrs. Styles was on the other side of the door. I would scream. People would hear me.  

 “Hey, you okay?”

 And even though I recognized the voice, when his hands were placed on my shoulders I flinched.

 “I smelled them,” I said, looking over my shoulder to the kitchen.

 “Who?” Harry’s eyes followed my gaze. He took a step toward the kitchen.

 “I wouldn’t,” I said.

 He stopped, confused. “I mean, you can, but I think your mom is sick,” I continued.  

 My tone wasn’t convincing. He bit his cheek. “Right.”

 And even though we both knew that his mom didn’t have food poisoning, that was a conversation for another time.

 “They’re here, Harry.”

 “What are you talking about?” He paused. His eyes saw the panic in mine and he swallowed, hard.

 “They can’t be. There’s security.”

 “I walked through the door, no one searched me or checked my name off a list.”

 “You’re a girl, it’s different. The security has a list of faces to watch out for, and trust me, they’d stand out.”

 “No- Harry,” I stammered. He wasn’t get it. “Their cologne. I haven’t smelled it since Kean’s.” The name tasted bitter on my tongue. “I was there- and your mom was talking and I was following these people but I smelled them. And it was so crowded so I ran and she was in the kitchen, and I don’t- I don’t know how, but they’re here. I didn’t imagine that. And no one else would be wearing that. No one else could smell like that.”

 I gasped for air, not realizing that I was on the verge of sobbing until Harry’s arms came around me.

 “Hey,” he soothed. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

 I let him hold me, but I wasn’t sure if I believed him. Their living area was too empty now. Too quiet. And even in his arms, even knowing what he’d done to them before, I didn’t feel safe. What was the point of having a massive castle if you couldn’t defend it? Your wealth just made you a sitting duck. A giant target.

 “Why would they be here?” I asked.

 “They wouldn’t be stupid enough to come here,” he reassured me.  

 “You probably think I’m crazy.”

 “No, don’t do that to yourself.” He pulled back just enough. “You’re not crazy.”

 And with no one to see, he took my hand, leading me past the foundation room. A part of me actually wanted to see the auction, but my mounting paranoia was stronger. We passed by the bar on the way to his room. It’d been empty for my last visit, but now the caterers were taking full advantage of its liquor storage capacity.

 “Let’s see,” his voice drawled as his fingers shifted through the bottles. He didn’t ask before pouring us two cocktails.

 “After you,” he said, nodding towards his room. By the time I’d sat down at the foot of his bed, he shut the door behind us with both drinks, and the vodka handle in the crook of his arm.

 “Is the foundation for your sister? Jane?”

 Harry avoided eye contact as he set the bottle down, pushing his hair back, brows raised.

 “Uh, kind of. I never knew her.” He turned to me finally, shrugging with an apathy that had taken years to perfect. “I mean it’s sad, we don’t have to talk about it now.”

 “Is it ever a good time?”

 He looked at me, giving me the chance to take back what I did. I didn’t.

 “She died before I was adopted.”

 “Oh.” My stomach dropped. There was so much I didn’t know, but I hadn’t been expecting this. His eyes didn’t hold any sadness, but guilt still pricked my heart. “I’m sorry.”

 He looked out the window again, distracted.

 “Again, I didn’t know her. It’s sad, but I don’t…” -he tried to find the right words, loosened his tie- “It’s not my grief.”

 I nodded; that made sense. It was his parents. The Styles. But the legacy of that pain couldn’t have had zero repercussions on their second child. There was more to the story than he was sharing, but I didn’t press. I walked closer, slowly toying with my drink.

 “So you find it hard to miss something you never had,” I clarified.

 He took a deep breath. “Cheers.” He raised his glass to me and I mimicked him, cringing at the stiff drink.

 “How are you feeling?” he asked.

 “Warm.”

 He nudged me, growing serious. “You know what I mean.”

 How was I feeling? The inner me cleared her throat and yelled from a soap box.

Jealous.

Scared.

Confused.

ANNOYED at how many windows this house had. I looked at Harry’s dark mask, the swirling madness in his emerald, the way the suit fit snug against his toned body… we were very much alone.

 Add turned on to my emotional cocktail.

 “I’m feeling a lot.”

 “Hm,” he hummed. “I’m feeling a lot too.” And it was so quiet. So bizarre to hear him say something even remotely close to feelings that I stood completely still. Was his drink as strong as mine?

 Our eyes were locked, but he didn’t turn away. I fought every fiber in my screaming to break the intense spell.

 He leaned in closer, tilted his head lower. Our noses brushed.

 Panic.

 “Are you and Viv…?”

 “I’m not up here with her am I.”

 Relief.

 But I didn’t have the courage to say she’d probably been up here before.

 “You know” - he pulled me closer, waists closing in - “I’m going to need a lot of help with that midterm,” he mumbled.

 Elation.

 An almost laugh that just lasted for a moment, because school seemed so trivial for what was happening in this house. There seemed to be split parts of me - the one I’ve always known and the one with him. Which one was more real to me now? I wasn’t sure if I was the same person that I once was - happy alone, solely immersed in school or netflix nights in. I’d been fine. I’d been safe. Maybe a little bored, but I hadn’t known there was more. With him there was a chaos that burned off his shoulders, that simmered in his eyes, and I drank in the warmth like a person frozen from snow.

 His hands squeezed my sides, and my eyes fluttered closed. “How are you feeling now?”

 “Good.”  

 He didn’t say anything more, but our breath was now in sync. It didn’t matter what he couldn’t say. What mattered was him, and the fact that when he looked at me, I felt everything he couldn’t say.

 Eyes couldn’t lie. Not like that.

 So I lifted my lips, and he went in for the kiss.

 It was like I’d been starved of oxygen when his soft lips encompassed my own. Oh God, I’d missed this buzz. I’d missed him.

 His hands cradled my face as he backed me up to the edge of the bed, lips never parting. A greedy hand shifted lower and he gripped the curve of backside. I whimpered a little, lips parting to allow his tongue to sneak in as he marked what I was so willing to give. He wasn’t pulling away this time. He wasn’t telling me no.

 I sat at the edge of the bed where he’d placed us, and leant back, his body falling atop mine. His delicious weight pinned me down, and he kissed down my neck, nibbling, biting. With a particularly hard suck, I moaned and when I looked down I saw him paused, hooded eyes looking up at me from the sound. His hands travelled down, slowly, from my waist to the ends of my dress. He was heavy but not crushing, deliberate but with respect. He waited for an answer.

 I nodded.

 He bit his lip in a smirk as he hitched up my dress. One hand clutching the soft skin of my hips, as the other supported him above me, Harry rolled his hips against me.

 Oh.

 Against the thin fabric of my underwear, I felt him harden between my folds. Gentle kisses were peppered along my chest and I pulled him closer.

 “Harry,” I whispered, lifting my hips against his. He groaned into my ear, a playful bite at the lobe.

 I shivered the same time his fingers travelled lower against my stomach. He stopped at the band of underwear, my breath catching when he cupped my sex.

 “Is this okay?” he whispered.

 I nodded, hummed, as his hand slowly rubbed against me. I could feel him watch me intently, but mostly I could feel him. Up, down, up... the friction against my bundle of nerves made my lips part. Again, and again, my breathing deepened and soon I was rutting against his hand. The damp patch he created was evident as he took several fingers and ran them against it. He applied pressure at my center and I wanted him to do more.

 He kissed my neck and a “please” stumbled out of my mouth. He smiled, letting out a small breath. He kissed my lips as his fingers pulled aside the lace. The cutest gesture of reassurance when there was nothing to reassure.

 I’d dreamt about this too many times for me to back out. This time I wouldn’t shy away. I took his bottom lip between mine. Go.

 But a glass shattering scream carried up the stairs.

 The commotion from downstairs grew louder, and I didn’t need to say anything.

 I’d already known.

 His hand retracted, and as quickly as it started, he’d rolled off to his side, my comforting weight gone.

 “What the fuck,” he muttered. He stood dead still at the edge of the bed but when he heard someone coming up the stairs, he lunged for the dresser, reached for the top drawer -

 From outside, “Harry! Harry, are you up here?”

 The door flew open.

 His arm fell to his side.

 Gemma stood at the doorway, slightly out of breath.

 “You need to come downstairs. Now.”

 I pulled my dress down, but Gemma wasn’t paying attention to me. There was a wild look in her eye only Harry could understand.

 He didn’t look back to me as he barrelled past her, she followed suit. I sat at the edge of the bed; alone, dishevelled, disoriented. I was scared to follow.

 Everything could change in a moment.

 There were footsteps at the door again and I looked up just in time to see Harry striding across the floor to me.

 “What are you-”

 His lips crashed into mine, and my breath was suspended again. There was an urgency in the kiss that hadn’t been there before. Deep, hard, a hand tangled in my hair when another hitched up my skirt. His fingers swiped at my entrance once and before I could kiss him back he pulled away.

 He let out an exasperated breath, and leant his forehead against mine.

 “I have to take care of this.”

 Unflinching, he drew the fingers that’d just pressed against my center up to his parted lips before swiping them against my own.

 He stood tall as he walked away, broad shoulders subtly moving beneath the suit as he drew a key from his pocket and closed the door behind him.

 There was no way in hell I was staying here.

 I shot up, running to the door - but it was locked. I pounded against it.

 “Harry? Harry let me out this isn’t funny!”

 I jiggled the handle again. Nothing.

 I wanted to scream, debated about screaming as I paced around the room. My eyes went to the top drawer of his dresser. I stopped. He’d reached for something there.

 When I pulled it open it was just some old band t-shirts, but my hand hit something in the back. Pushing aside the shirts was a black box.

 I quickly undid the clasp.

 A black handgun.

 I shoved the box to the back as quickly as I’d opened it.

 Fuck no.

 Frickity fracking fuck no.

 He’d been reaching for a gun.

 What kind of threats was he used to that he needed a gun?  

 I took a bobby pin from my hair, and with an expert skill that only growing up with a sibling could teach you, the lock was picked.

 It took me at least five minutes, but the door opened. I booked it downstairs, a flounder of red dress heading into a quiet commotion.

 I didn't see him when I made it down the stairs. There were too many confused bystanders huddled around their phones and switching social circles, whispering frantically about the scene before them.

I didn’t need to see anything in the crowd. For up on the wall, between collectors’ paintings was a vacant space.

 The family portrait was gone.

 And in its place was a snake that matched the one I’d seen tattooed on skin, the same snake that had been wrapped around my neck.

part 14

[monigheandonn1743]

Ceart-leth

Are you ready??

Previous Chapters

Chapter 13

Already missing his arms, and wishing she hadn’t spoken, she watched as he carefully unbuckled his plaid, and laid it out on the grass just shy of the ridge. He sat and turned to her, holding out his hand for her to take, and she didn’t hesitate. Slipping her fingers between his, she walked forward and allowed him to guide her to sit between his legs.

“It’s easier when I’m touching ye.” He whispered reverently as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close.

And so much harder. She thought closing her eyes, willing her tears away. She didn’t feel at all ready for what he was about to say. Until the words left his lips, in her own way, she could still pretend that he was hers. That she could have the life with him she so desperately wanted. Especially with the way he held her now, so safe and protected in his embrace.

“I met Annalise de Marillac in Paris.” He began quietly, his voice slow and peaceful, as though telling her was cathartic, and he was finally letting go of the pain he carried. “I’d no long finished at the university, and was stayin’ with my cousin Jared. He owns a wine merchants there and I decided to stay awhile, learnin’ the ropes, no quite ready to go back to life on the farm.

“She was a young widow. Beautiful, flirtatious and had all the men of Versailles eatin’ out of the palm of her hand, includin’ me.” He laughed self deprecatingly as she fixed her eyes on the horizon and tried to breathe. “I fought a duel in her honour when I caught a man accostin’ her, and some weeks later, as a reward for winnin’ she said, she invited me to her bed.”

Claire’s breath stuttered, and the vast quantities of whiskey she’d consumed the night before, rolled violently in her stomach. She didn’t want to listen to him talking about having sex with his wife, she really wasn’t ready for that. Just the thought of him in bed with another woman was enough to cripple her. But she had to know, no matter the cost. So she took a deep breath and simply prayed she’d get thought it without vomiting.

“I was a twenty year old virgin, out from under the watchful eye of my father for the first time, and blind with lust and innocent naivety I accepted.

“It was nothin’ and everythin’ I expected it to be. I’d heard stories of women no likin’ it, maybe no to such an extent, but I wasna surprised that she didna. It was both…terrifyin’ and euphoric and over verra, verra quickly. But her fear and hatred for it made me feel like a beast. So it surprised me when that she came back for more.” He admitted so quietly she could almost feel his shame enveloping her as surely as his arms did.

He fell quiet for a moment, lost in the memory no doubt, and she didn’t even dare to breathe as she watched the sunrise and waited uneasily for him to continue.

“It dinna take long for Jared to discover what was happenin’, but by the time he told me the truth of her, my infatuation had waned. I’d seen it for myself, an’ it was no a difficult thing to promise no to see her again.”

“What truth?” She whispered hesitantly. With each word he told her of his wife, of wanting her and sleeping with her, her heart broke a little more. So she’d be lying if she said that she wasn’t a little pleased that the sex had been…awful… or that he’d lost some of his interest.

Even if it did make her a bad person.

Jamie sighed and pulled her closer still.

“Her joie de vivre hid a nefarious soul, Sassenach. Since the death of her husband she’d been on the prowl for a wealthy man, someone to keep her in the life she was accustomed to. What I’d taken for flirtation and wit, was naught but manipulation and cunnin’. Being a relative of Jared she’d wrongly assumed I was a wealthy as he was, but she’d couldna been more wrong. At the time I barely had two pounds to my name.

“But still under her illusions, she came to me, a week before I was to return home, and told me she was carrying my bairn. I had my doubts, but with no proof that it wasna mine, I did the only thing I could.”

“You married her.”

“Aye.” He muttered as though even the memory of it pained him to the core. “She hated Lallybroch, she hated me, and she hated the bairn she carried.

“Ye ken,” he laughed bitterly, “I didna see her once after I returned from Fort William. She kent well enough that I was close to death, I heard her and Jenny fightin’ more than once. She was hopin’ the fever would take me, so she could return to Paris a widow once more. Then my da announced that he’d inherited the Duchy, and she changed overnight. Couldna do enough to see me well.

“Ye see, we suddenly had more land and more money than she could spend in a life time, and she received the title she thought she deserved.”

“Marchioness of Lorne.” Claire almost spat, disgusted.

She’d already hated the woman on jealous principal. But the bitch had not only tricked him in to marriage, she’d practically declared him not good enough, and wished him dead.

Until the fucking money and title came in of course!

She wanted to scream at the injustice of it all. It wasn’t fair. She loved him for nothing more than himself, and ached to love and care for him like he deserved. But the French whore had stolen him and there was nothing she could do.

“Aye.” Jamie sighed, as he tightened his arms and laid his cheek against her hair. She wrapped her arms around his and linked their fingers at her waist, giving and receiving what little comfort she could.

“There was no love between us, there never had been. So even after the money came in we kept to ourselves. Separate rooms, separate lives. But mine or no, I loved the bairn, he was the one good thing to come out of our marriage. But carrying him was hard on her, she couldna take the strain and she lost him at six months,” he breathed stunning her into silence.

His heartache was so abundantly clear that she could feel it, and as much as she tried, she just couldn’t swallow past the painful lump in her throat.

“What…I mean, did you name him?” She croaked, swiping a tear from her cheek and trying her hardest not to cry for him.

Oh Jamie.

“Aye, I named him David. She never asked that, ye ken. She didna care. The birth left her with a fever, but even after she recovered she never asked. She was more concerned with the continuation of the title than she was his death. So I mourned alone and buried him in the kirk yard at Lallybroch.”

“I’m so sorry, Jamie. I can’t even begin to imagine the pain of losing a child.” She whispered, squeezing the hands she still held in hers. Even in the twenty first century woman lost children every day, and whether six weeks or six months the lost was always a devastating one.

She felt his lips against her hair, a sign of his acknowledgment, and she turned her face and pressed hers against his arm, the only place she could reach. Annalise may not care, but she did. He loved her, his heart was hers and hers alone, and she’d keep it as safe and protected as she could. Even if only from a distance.

How she was supposed to face this woman and not bitch slap her, she didn’t know.

I love you, too you know.

“After that she insisted we leave Scotland. She said she needed society and I was wrought with guilt for what she’d been through. So I agreed an’ moved us to the new townhouse in London. We still lived separate lives for the most part, me at the club and she with her friends, and I was miserable. But she flourished, and amongst her friends, who were producing heirs, she became determined to provide the future Duke.

“Things had never been good between us. She’d kept me from her rooms since our weddin’ night in France, an’ I wasna bothered by it. She’d never gotten over her hatred for it, no matter how gentle I tried to be. So I was surprised when she invited me to her bed, an’ none too enthusiastic. But I did need an heir, an’ I still wanted a bairn.

“She lost two more in London. The first early, and the second again at six months. A wee lass, Catherine. Each time it took her longer to recover and I refused to try again. I’d seen my mam go though the same thing and I didna want to be responsible for her death.

“She castigated me. Claimed I was makin’ her a laughin’ stock. Said that no true woman would be unable to provide her husband with an heir. She didna care for the bairns, she’d already interviewed for a nurse, for after they were born. But she wanted the notoriety of being mother to a Duke.

“We were back at Lallybroch visiting Jenny when she told me she was with child again. I hated myself. I’d been weak, and in a moment of need I’d given in. Just once, but it was enough. She was confined to her bed, an’ she saw it through almost to the end, but she was sick and weak. She died in child birth and wee Robert just three days later.” He finished, choking on his near silent words.

She died?

Oh my God!

She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, and could hardly see through her tears. He’d lost them, all of them, and whether he loved his wife or not, his pain and guilt, no matter how misplaced the latter might be, must be debilitating, and her heart broke for him.

Still too stunned to speak, she slowly pulled away and crawled to her knees before him. The tears in his eyes were her undoing, and she threw her arms around him, holding him as tight and as close as she could.

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry, Jamie.” She stuttered, locking her fingers in his hair, as she rocked them both slowly side to side. His arms tightened around her, and he held on as though she was his only anchor to the world. For the first time in her life, she genuinely didn’t know what to say. She had no words that could offer him comfort as his body trembled in her arms.

She had no idea how long it had been since he lost them, but it was clear that his heartache was still raw. He said he’d mourned for David, but he’s said nothing of Catherine and Robert.

Two boys and a lass.

These were the children Laoghaire had cheerfully told her about, and she wanted nothing more than to ride back to Leoch and kick ten tons of shit out of the bitch. What she’d hoped to achieve with her bullshit story Claire didn’t know, but if it was to keep her away from Jamie, she’d almost succeeded, and Claire hated herself for it.

But Jamie had his arms around her and no matter how much she wanted to kill her, she’d never even dream of leaving him. Not now, not ever. He had healing to do, and she intended to be there with him every step of the way.

His pain for there loss was one thing, but the guilt was a totally different matter all together, and it had no place in his grief. It would do nothing but taint the memory of his children, and she couldn’t let him do that to himself. He needed to mourn them all with a clear conscience.

“I can’t even pretend to understand how you must feel. Losing one child is unimaginable, but to lose four and your wife…I can’t…there are no words.” She whispered into his hair, holding him tighter, pulling him closer to her heart. “But you can’t hold yourself responsible, Jamie. It’s terrifying and heartbreaking but it is not your fault. Even in the twenty first century where we can transplant hearts and do brain surgery, child birth and pregnancy still always have some element of danger, and we still lose mothers and babies sometimes.”

Her whole world spun so suddenly that her equilibrium completely shattered. For a moment she didn’t know up from down until she found herself lying prone on the plaid, staring up dazedly into Jamie’s stormy, blue eyes.

“No, Sassenach, ye dinna understand. Ye dinna understand at all.”

“Jamie…”

“No.” He breathed, dropping closer, resting his weight on his arm beside her head. His other hand, the one that should be strapped to his side, came up and he gently cupped her face. She was cocooned, sheltered from the world by his large frame. All she could see, feel and smell was him.

“Aye, I lost the bairns, an’ I mourned them, every one. But it was years ago, almost two now since I lost Robert. I loved them, and it pains me that they gone, that I’ll never see them grow. But I let go of my guilt for Annalise a long time ago. I’m no God, I ken it wasna my fault, no really.”

“Then what?” She pleaded reaching up to touch his face. “Because if that’s the case, you’re right, I don’t understand.”

“Can ye no see, Claire?” He begged passionately, his strong voice just touching desperation and tearing at her heart. “Ye appear in my life from nowhere. So strong and brave, kind and beautiful and so verra fragile. Ye everything she wasna, and everything I’v yearned for.

“I’v loved ye since the moment ye wept in my arms, an I want ye with a passion that boarders on madness. When ye lost yerself, when ye trembled against me an’ I realised what had happened.” He shook his head in reverence as his own body trembled above her. “Ah, lass, how I dinna take ye then…”

“You could have, you still can.” She whispered longingly, her need for him enveloping her sadness. “I’m yours, Jamie. I’ve been yours my entire life, and I want you too. I love you too, more than anything or anyone.”

His eyes clouded with pain, and he closed them, shutting her out as he dropped his forehead against hers. She was shaking uncontrollably, and her heart hammered so loudly she could hear it. He loved her, he wanted her, and she was his for the taking. Yet he was still denying them their happiness, and any hope she might have felt was trapped behind his fear.

“How can I, Claire?” He begged as he pulled back and locked his pain filled eyes on hers. “How can I love ye and keep ye? How can I make ye mine an no lose ye forever? I promised myself I would never put another lass through that…an I havena. But ye, mo gràdhag? I’m going mad with the wanting of ye, but I willna risk ye life. I willna lose ye with my selfish desires, and I canna bare the thought of ye fearing my touch.”

Oh God.

“Jamie, stop!” She pleaded urgently her hands coming up to grasp his shoulders. She pushed him gently, aware of his injury, but she could have kicked herself when she saw the panic in his eyes as he quickly rolled away. “No.” She whispered as she follow him with her own body and rolled atop him, straddling his hips. “It’s my turn to talk.”

His hands went automatically to her waist, steadying her and keeping her in place. But his eyes widened and she couldn’t hide her small smirk as she dropped her hands beside his head.

“Sassenach…”

“Sshh.” She murmured, stretching her thumbs to brush across his cheeks. “Things in my time are different, relationships are different. Men and woman flit between one love and the next, sometimes settling down and getting married, sometimes not. They live together unwed, have children, separate, and move on to the next conquest. It’s like it’s all a game.

“The notion of love at first sight, to feel that instant connection, and to know someone’s soul when you’ve never spoken a word, is so foreign that it’s scoffed at and scorned. But it’s real, and it’s here between us.”

“Ceart-leth.” He breathed, gliding one hand along her body and up into her hair. “Soulmates.”

She wanted to cry at the tenderness in his voice and the way he touched her so lovingly. But her eyes were locked on his, and she could see everything, and wanted to miss nothing. It was all there, every fear, every pain, every ounce of love he held for her shone in his clear blue eyes, and she knew that he was right. They were soulmates separated by time and brought together by fate.

“I travelled almost three hundred years to find you, Jamie.” She whispered softly as her fingers slowly traced these lines of his face. “You’ve been hurt more than any man should have to endure. Nothing will ever take away the grief of losing your children, nor should it. But by your own admission, what you had with Annalise wasn’t love, and you deserve to be loved.

“You’re the best man I’ve ever known, and I could never fear your touch. I crave it. I need it like I need air to breathe, like I need you. I can’t promise you that we will never lose a child, every pregnancy carries a risk. But I promise to mourn with you if we do, to give you comfort, and share in your pain.

“I’ve met our great grandson, Jamie and he’s so like you. So honourable, and strong and compassionate.”

“What?” He frowned, his eyes a kaleidoscope of wonder and confusion. She laughed lightly and drew her thumb over his eyebrow, straightening the crease.

“Joe.” She smiled, picturing his face in her mind and feeling the first wave of maternal love and pride for the man he is. “I didn’t know of course. But you asked me why he didn’t stop me when he knew about the stones. That’s why.”

“He gave you the plaid.” He breathed with awe as he gently touched the cloth that still covered her shoulders.

“Yes. His mothers name is Elizabeth Mary Fraser and she has the most wonderful riot of bright red hair.”

“I canna lose ye, Claire.” He begged helplessly as he brought both hands up to cup her face. “I’v never been so scairt in my life. I dinna ken how to love ye, to have ye as my wife an’ no want to always be inside ye. To feel ye warmth an watch ye fall apart in my arms. But I dinna ken how to let ye go.”

“Jamie, you never have to let me go.” She promised gently. “I’m an only child, and an orphaned one at that. I’ve always dreamed of having a big family. But I won’t force you, or cajole you, there are ways to prevent a pregnancy, and I do have some with me.”

“There are?”

“Yes. So, If you don’t want us to have children, we don’t have to have any, even if we make love everyday for the rest of our lives. But I won’t lie to you, I don’t want to use them. I want to have as many children with you as we can. But I will if you want me too, and if it’s just you and me for the rest of our lives, then I’ll die a happy woman.

“But we can never predict what will happen. I could have so easily lost you yesterday from simply falling from your horse. And I’m not Annalise, she could have had any number of diseases that prevented her from carrying a child. You weren’t the only man she’d been with, she could have caught anything from anyone…and I’m suddenly extremely grateful that Joe sent penicillin.” She added her eyes suddenly wide at the thought.

“Why?”

“Because sexually transmitted diseases are rife and easily exchanged through…bodily fluid. If she had one, then so did you, and you would have passed it to me when we eventually make love. Before I stuck you with the needle anyway.”

His lips twitched, and before she could blink, he twisted and she found herself beneath him once again.

“So sure of yerself are ye, Sassenach?” He breathed, looming over her rakishly.

“Yes.” She laughed teasingly as she wound her fingers in his hair. “You love me, and you can’t live without me. The rest of it is just details that we’ll work out together.”

“Aye, as ye say, lass.” He blinked owlishly, then swiftly silenced her laughter with his lips.

Chapter 14

[kuriquinn]

Sex Ed [5/5]

Blanket Fic Disclaimer

Prompt: Rereading chapter 19 of Unplanned, and I sorta want a story about the aftermath of Sarada accidentally crushing a partner during her first time because she didn't get Sakura's advice. Specifically, I want Sasuke's reaction. Him being confused and not knowing whether to be angrily protective or sympathetic. I think that has the potential to be hilarious.- Anon

Author’s Note: I had to change the injury a bit, and I didn’t get all of your prompt in this chapter, but if you’ve read the previous ones, parts of your request were in there too. There were a surprising amount of people who wanted to see Sarada’s sex mishaps, so I tried to get everyone’s request somewhere in the fic. I hope this (and the previous chapters) has been to your liking :)

Warning: In this universe, Sarada is bisexual, and her parents are very supportive of her, thank you very much.

First Chapter

“Are you going out?”

Sasuke pauses in the act of slipping into his shoes and glances up at Sakura, wandering down the hallway and buttoning her tunic the rest of the way up. “Yes. One of the officers at the police station says he found some of my family’s old files. He wanted to know if I wanted the hard copies.”

“Well that was nice of him. What are they, old case files?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, call me if you need anything,” she tells him, and as usual there’s the implicit reminder that if it’s too hard for him to do on his own, she’ll be there in an instant. He nods, grateful, but doesn’t take her up on it.

“Since Sarada’s apartment is along the way, would you take her that basket of vegetables in the kitchen?” Sakura asks as she shrugs into her coat. “It’s all fresh from the garden. And you know what those girls are like. Leave them alone long enough, and they’ll live off of cup ramen and poki. I’d take it myself, but I’m already late, thanks to a certain someone.”

“You weren’t complaining an hour ago,” he answers mildly, but heads to the kitchen anyhow.

“I wasn’t late an hour ago,” Sakura replies, straining up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I’ll see you tonight, if there are no world-ending crises.”

“Hm.”

They leave the house together and part ways on the street, Sakura heading to the hospital and Sasuke to the police station.

It’s been quieter around the house since Sarada moved out, even if she was never a really loud child to begin with. Barring her rough teenage years and occasional temper, she was rather like Sasuke as a teenager, but a lot less prone to vengeance fuelled vendettas. Sasuke misses having her around, even though she lives within walking distance.

It’s not exactly common place for young people to move in with roommates in the village (at least it wasn’t when he was younger; most people lived at home with their parents until they got married), and as much as he disliked the notion when Sarada brought it up, he has to admit that her having her own place has made their relationship better.

Much as she is the light of his life, there are certain aspects of their life together he doesn’t miss.

Such as dealing with awkward situations or information that a father should not be privy to when it comes to his daughter. He doesn’t have to worry about her safety, because Chōchō and Wasabi are just as brash and protective of Sarada as he is. And she hasn’t had another boyfriend in a year, which is also a relief.

None of them are good enough for her anyway, and if she intends to be Hokage, she shouldn’t have more distractions than necessary. She’s already going to have to work harder than before because Naruto is still a bit ticked off about his son’s broken penis. He and Sasuke have come to literal blows about the whole matter, considering Boruto was just as involved in causing that injury as Sarada was.

Eventually the dobe will get his head out of his ass about the whole thing; maybe if he spent more time at home with his family his kid would have known how not to get injured during sex.

As for Sasuke, without Sarada living at home, he and Sakura can have sex again whenever they want instead of waiting for their daughter to be away on a mission or at a friend’s house. He’d be lying if he hasn’t been waiting twenty years for a return to that status quo at least.

Logically speaking, there’s no downside to the arrangement.

When he reaches the apartment, he dutifully knocks and waits for a response; as far as he knows, Sarada isn’t scheduled for any missions this week so she should be home. Which is why he frowns when he doesn’t get a response.

Glancing at the basket in his hands, he considers for a moment just leaving it outside the door, but discards it a moment later. Any co-tenant or stray animal can get to it here, and he doesn’t like the idea of Sarada living off ramen any more than her mother does.

Naruto has had way too much influence on his daughter.

I’ll go through the window and put it in the kitchen, he decides, knowing this course of action won’t take but a minute.

It seems the most simple idea, and it’s nothing to slip into the kitchen and place the basket on the table. He considers leaving a note for a moment, and then—

“Oh, yes! Right there!”

Sasuke feels a chill like ice creep down his spine at his daughter’s voice echoing from the living room.

No. No, for fucks sake, this cannot be happening. No. Not again.

In a panic, he seeks an easy exit, at the same time castigating himself for such an amateur mistake. This isn’t a covert mission to steal documents, it’s a visit to his daughter’s place of residence. He should have called ahead. And knocked. And announced his presence.

Possibly with a bullhorn.

He’s about to make his escape, when the relative silence is broken by a familiar crack, followed by a girl’s sharp yell of pain.

“Wasabi?” Sarada cries a moment later. “Wasabi, are you alright?!”

“My hips…they…ow!” the other girl gasps. “And I can’t…can’t feel my legs. Ah, stop moving!”

“I’ll fix it, just let me get out from under—”

“No—ow! Don’t move—”

“I can’t help you when I’m lying on my back, just let me—”

“DON’T MOVE, IT HURTS!”

There’s a sharp, panting gasp of someone trying to breath through the pain.

Broken pelvis, Sasuke decides, wincing out of empathy. He’s had that particular injury before, and from similar circumstances. Except, lucky for him, he was on the bottom and it was the work of a minute for Sakura to fix it.

Speaking of…

“If I don’t move, we’re both going to be stuck here!”

“Stop…talking…!” the other girl growls through the pain. “It’s making it worse.”

Sasuke sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Why? Why is it always me? Why is Sakura never on hand when Sarada gets herself into situations like this?

A mental image pops up of his wife furiously reminding him of her miserable nine-month-morning sickness and a ruined vagina.

Oh. Right.

Though, personally he doesn’t know what she’s complaining about (he has no issues with her vagina as it is), he can acknowledge that she went through the most difficult bit of bringing their daughter into the world. Perhaps this is the universe’s way of balancing karma or something.

He considers this and thinks he might have preferred to be the one to give birth. At least then it would have been over with in less than a day…

“Fuck…”

There’s utter silence in the next room.

“…Dad?” The word is timid and questioning, hope mingled with humiliation. “Are you there?”

Thunk!

Sasuke lets his head fall against the hallway wall in defeat.

“Yes. I was dropping off vegetable from your mother,” he says eventually. “Do you need help?”

Panicked silence, the sound of Sarada whispering and Wasabi snaps, “Yes we want his help!”

Well, at least this one has sense. If they don’t break up over this incident, maybe she can teach his daughter some. “Are you both…decent?”

“Sarada, if you don’t get your old man in here now, I will bite through your jugular and—!”

The rest of the diatribe is cut off like a record hauled off the turntable; there’s rustling sound and then Sarada squeaks, “Come in.”

Cautiously, Sasuke peeks around the doorway to assess the situation.

The girls are still in a tangle of limbs, but Wasabi is unconscious—Genjutsu. Hmph. Well, at least she’s learned something—and a heavy burden draped across Sarada’s (mercifully hidden) body. His daughter has somehow managed to arrange a quilt and a discarded shirt to cover any flesh that he doesn’t want to see, but she’s still trapped underneath her—

Roommate? Girlfriend? Partner?

If he thinks about questions like that, he doesn’t have to focus too much on yet another embarrassing situation.

“We’ll move her carefully so as not to do any further damage,” Sasuke tells Sarada; decades of marriage to Sakura have taught him enough about fractures to be wary. Then he adds conversationally, “Have you considered becoming a monk?”

She scowls at him, blowing a lock of Wasabi’s hair out of her face. “Monks don’t have sex.”

“Exactly. And they lead perfectly fulfilling lives and don’t injure anyone.”

“Or you could tell me how you and mom have managed.”

“No,” Sasuke says immediately. That is a conversation for her and your mother, one which he doesn’t want to know if it ever happens or not. That is where he draws the line.

Yes, he gets the irony in that, considering he’s trying to carefully move his daughter’s – paramour? Lover?— off of said daughter without injuring her spine or any internal organs. But really, at this point, enough is enough.

“If I had my time back, I’d have insisted your mother train you in medical ninjutsu,” he tells her. “Clearly learning better chakra control would have benefitted you more than wielding a sword.”

“Very funny,” Sarada grumbles, tugging the quilt across her torso a little tighter as Sasuke starts to move the other woman off her. “I could always just date someone invulnerable. Then it wouldn’t be a problem.” She thinks about this for a moment, and then her face brightens in speculation. “Come to think of it, Mitsuki—”

“No,” Sasuke cuts her off, shifting the other girl enough that Sarada can get out and closing his eyes tight. “Now get dressed and help me stabilize her so we can get to the hospital.”

He hears her moving around the living room, grabbing articles of clothing; a second later, he senses her presence right beside him and then feels a quick peck on his temple.

“Thanks for rescuing me again, Dad,” she tells him solemnly, and then flounces from the room.

Sasuke just sighs.

It’s not easy being the ‘dad’…

終わり

Phew! Well, that’s officially the longest thing I’ve written in a long time. And it was a lot of fun. I hope everyone liked it ^_^ I’m exhausted now, though, so I probably won’t have it all edited nicely and on ao3/ffnet until next week. Think I’m gonna rest my brain a few days.

Thanks for reading, guys!

クリ

[star-trekkin-across-theuniverse]

Resource Management, pt19

Word Count: 2381 Tags: @supermoonpanda @rayleyanns @sistasarah-sallysaidso @feelmyroarrrr @anyakinamidala @dirajunara @anotherotter @little-study-bug @rampant-salamander @goodnightwife @samaxraph99 @anotherotter  @outside-the-government @kingarthurscat @coyote-in-space @originalpottervengerlock @dolamrothianlady @curiositywillbethedeathofme @superheroesofbothuniverses @mtriestowrite @wanderingkat77

A hand shook me from my sleep in the middle of the night, and before I could scream, another one clapped across my mouth. The bedside lamp snapped on and I was both relieved and terrified to see Director Fury looming over me. And so incredibly relieved that I slept in pyjamas. I pried his hand off my face.

“With all due respect, Sir, what the fuck?” I hissed. He sat down on the edge of my bed, causing me to scramble up into a sitting position.

“You noticed the van following you?” He asked. I nodded. “Until McKay is able to regain her access, you are the only person in HR with level 10 clearance. You are at risk.”

“Yeah, smart move,” I rolled my eyes.

“I’ve enabled a ghost protocol for your account. If you ever suspect you are in danger, change your login by one digit. Doesn’t matter which one. I’ll be informed immediately,” he explained. I rubbed my eyes, trying to comprehend.

“What good will it do if there’s a gun to my head?” I demanded.

“You’ll still have access to everything you need. Your life will not be imperiled,” he promised.

“And this couldn’t wait until the morning?” I yawned. He gave me no response. “I’d offer you a coffee, but this just seems so weird.”

“You are going to be targeted, Ellis. Is there anything you think I should know about?”

“You said not to trust you,” I began, and took a deep breath, “but if I can’t trust you, I don’t know who I can. We found this at Cecelia Banks’ place.” I reached under my pillow and pulled out the notebook, holding it out to him. He took it and began to flip through the pages.

“Anything else?” He asked, nodding as he flipped through the pages.

“Nope.” It was a lie, but if Fury was not on my side, I needed to keep Phil safer than I was. “None of us could figure out the code.”

“It’s not commonly used anymore, but I know this one. Thank you, Ellis.” He turned and walked out of my room. I had to wonder if I’d made the right move. Thanks to Cecelia Banks, I suspected that HYDRA agents had infiltrated SHIELD again, but I had no information or idea of how far. For all I knew, Fury could be setting me up. I wanted to talk to Phil. I wanted to, but I was nervous about Fury’s visit. If he’d felt he couldn’t message or call, that meant my phone was not secure. I didn’t want to divulge anything by mentioning it to Phil. I wished I were better at cyphers, as Phil seemed to figure them out relatively quickly.

To say my sleep was unsettled for the rest of the night would have been an understatement. I tossed and turned, imagining all manner of horrible endings that could come to me. I gave up trying to get rest at around 4am, and just got up. I sent a quick text to Lex, trying to figure out our schedule for the next while, and as I was making myself a coffee, I received a rapid-fire succession of texts in response. On checking them, I had one from Natasha and one from Clint, but nothing from Lex. Natasha was confirming that she’d signed off on my hand-to-hand competencies and would be setting up follow-up assignments for me. Clint’s message was to let me know he’d been called away on assignment, and expected me to continue my target practice daily.

“Since I know you aren’t tied up with H2H anymore.”

“Any specific recommendations?” I typed back while I sipped my coffee.

“Get better. Get faster. Stop hesitating. If you need to use it, you need to stop your attacker, no matter the consequence.” He was basically telling me I had to be fast enough to shoot first, and accurate enough to kill with my first shot. No pressure. I finished my coffee and decided to head into the office. It was probably the safest place for me to be. No one would attack me in a SHIELD facility. It would almost be worth moving into the office until whatever was happening was over.

The office was disturbingly quiet when I walked in. It was to be expected, as it was only 6 am, but it still felt weird. I slid they key into my door look and was surprised to find it already unlocked. I knew I had locked it before I had left the office last. I was horrified to realize I had immediately reached for my sidearm before opening the door. It swung wide, and the light automatically turned on, showing the room empty. I holstered my weapon and walked in, letting out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. I could hear a faint whirring noise and realized my computer was also on. I reached for the locking drawer on my desk and was relieved to find it still locked. I flicked the mouse and the screensaver vanished. The computer seemed to be uncompromised, but I called IT anyhow. I wanted the whole thing replaced before I signed in. In the meantime, I took my stack of work and carried it out into the main office. I settled in at the reception desk and started pounding through the last of the big pile of paperwork Erin had dumped on me. An hour or so later, IT showed up with a new computer, and went to work switching out mine.

“Should be all set, Director.” The IT guy leaned across the reception desk and handed me a small book, “that has any troubleshooting info you might need for these new workstations.”

“Is it the same as the one I had?” I asked. He shook his head.

“No, it’s identical to this one you’re working on though,” he explained. I nodded.

Once I was sure he was gone, I turned the lock on the main office door and quickly traded computers with the reception desk. Fury had scared me, and I took literally the advice to trust no one. No one would have any reason to put any kind of tracking or keystroke-logging app onto the reception desk computer. She had always only had level one clearance. If the computers were identical, I could trust that no one would know any different if I switched them, but that I could be sure my computer was clean and safe. My stomach growled, prompting me to lock up again and head to the nearest café for a breakfast bagel or something.

I logged back into my new computer when I returned, and continued working. The office slowly came awake around me as staff trickled in. Erin popped her head in when she arrived.

“I have hand-to-hand this morning with Jackson at around ten. Is there anything on the table that you’re needing me for?” She looked tired.

“There’s a stack of level three clearances from Science that need to be completed, and if you could take this pile, I would love it.” I pointed to a stack of internal applications for positions on the new helicarriers. I’d already sorted them according to clearance. She nodded and grabbed the folder. She turned just before she left my office.

“Oh, Agent Garrett was in yesterday looking for you. Something about that project he’s on,” she mentioned. I shook my head.

“I’m not sure which one that is?” I asked. She nodded and pursed her lips before gently closing my door.

“He’s been working on that Centipede thing. He thinks there’s a mole, and wanted to access some files. I’d been helping him out when I could, but with my restrictions in place,” she trailed off.

“Gotcha. Was he going to come back, or just send a request?” I asked. She shrugged and headed back to her office. I went back to processing the internal applications. I set my phone onto the speaker dock on my bookshelf and cranked up some loud, angry music to get focused on the mountain of postings I had to get through. The new helicarrier project was due to launch in days, and the maintenance and MedBay postings had only just come down. It was another thing to mention to Fury about the HR restructuring. Job postings were going to need to come down sooner if there was only going to be two people processing applications above level four.

My desk phone rang some time later, startling me out of the groove I’d settled into.

“Ellis, HR,” I answered.

“Annie, right? This is John Garrett. Honey, I was in yesterday to see Erin about some files I need to see, and she’s got restricted access right now. Are you around this afternoon? I need to take a peek at a couple of personnel files for higher-level agents. I’m trying to root out a mole,” he had an overly familiar way of speaking that I’m sure a lot of people found charismatic and charming. But I’d never in my life appreciated being called honey.

“I should be here until 3pm, Agent Garrett,” I thought maybe being formal in my response would send a hint.

“Alright darling, I’ll see you after lunch. It’ll be nice to finally meet you,” he positively oozed the charm. I forced myself to smile before I spoke.

“Of course. This afternoon then,” I ended the conversation with a shudder. I was not looking forward to meeting him. I hit the intercom button on my phone and keyed in Erin’s local. It was the epitome of laziness but I was telling myself I was multitasking.

“Yeah?” Her voice crackled across the comm.

“Did anyone go into my office yesterday while I was out?” I asked. There was something about Agent Garrett that unsettled me enough that I wondered if it hadn’t been him playing with my computer.

“Not that I saw, but janitorial was in late yesterday afternoon. I left before they got to our offices.” That made sense. I was probably completely overreacting. I had likely left my computer on, and janitorial had forgotten to lock back up when they left my office. I felt a flush of embarrassment wash over me, and I found myself wanting to text Phil to share my embarrassment. But then the spectre of Fury’s midnight visit came back to me, and I got paranoid about contacting him again.

Garrett was just as smarmy and slippery as I’d suspected. He breezed into my office like he was the director of SHIELD, and shook my hand with that limp indifference that some men reserve for women. I had to conceal the shudder of contempt that ran the length of my spine. He made himself comfortable in the chair across from my desk and smiled while he assessed me. He didn’t even try to hide that he was checking me out, either. Subconsciously, I pulled my blazer across my bust and crossed my arms. He smirked, completely aware of how I was responding to his gaze.

“You’re a pretty little thing, aren’t you?” He asked. I forced a smile, waiting for the inevitable Barbie comparison. Men like him always made the Barbie comparison.

“I guess that’s a matter of opinion, Agent Garrett.” My jaw was tight, and if he was as good a judge of character as he should be in order to ‘root out moles’, he knew exactly how I was feeling. And it didn’t change his behaviour, which meant it was intentional. In that moment, I decided I hated John Garrett.

“You don’t strike me as Phil’s type. His last girlfriend was brunette, petite. Real classy, plays the cello,” he continued.

“Are you suggesting I’m not classy, Agent Garrett?” I raised an eyebrow. His eyes snapped up to mine, giving away that he’d been staring at my chest. He held his hands up in mock-surrender.

“No, no, Sunshine, I’m sure you’re just as classy. You just –“

“Look like Dominatrix Librarian Barbie?” I asked, suddenly realizing who’d sent the text to Phil. He at least had the decency to look away, although I didn’t believe for one minute that he was embarrassed.

“It’s a good look,” he winked, making eye contact with me again. I felt nauseated.

“Agent Garrett –“

“Please, honey, call me John,” he interrupted.

“Agent Garrett,” I emphasized both words, “Unless you’ve got a bet going with someone about how long it will take me to slap you with a Stark, I would strongly suggest you get to the point of your visit.”

The cocky veneer vanished, and his grin turned cold. He sat up in the chair and leaned forward.

“I need to access some personnel files that are pertinent to my investigation of the Centipede project,” he began.

“Has Erin not run you through the appropriate channels for requesting information? Fill out a P440A online for each file you wish to access. I’ll process them as soon as they hit my inbox, and you can access them from whatever workstation is nearest you.” I made a mental note to have a conversation with Erin before her clearance was reinstated about appropriate documentation. There was no point in having security clearance if we didn’t follow through with the checks and balances that were in place. Garrett nodded abruptly and rose.

“Thank you for your time, Director Ellis. I’ll be sure to get those requests to you this afternoon,” he held out his hand. I stood and reached across my desk to shake his hand. It was a more appropriate and strong grip this time around. He released my hand and turned to walk out.

“Agent Garrett?” I stopped him before he left. He glanced over his shoulder. “I hope you understand that if SHIELD is to discover and deal with traitors, part of that is playing by the rules. It allows those of us who are innocent of wrongdoing to stand free of judgment, when the cards start to fall.”

“I take it back, Director Ellis,” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes, “you are exactly Phil’s type.”

The way he said it made it an insult. I was left wondering if any of us should trust John Garrett.

[aerishikari]

L’étranger: CHP4

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Disclaimer: This story idea come from @redkammy​ who already wrote his version of the story. Here is mine. Sorry for the english, It’s not my native language and I translated it myself.

I really had trouble with this chapter, maybe because I wrote it with high fever. So please, tell me if something seem strange in the narration. 

Warning: language, sad backstory, grief and a lot of skeleton tears

Papyrus would have never thought that Stretch would dared raise his hand against Sans. His brother made all the efforts possible to help his counterpart in this these painful moments. And how he thanked him? By giving him a black eye.

Sans had told him to not worry about it. But it was not knowing Papyrus very well. He did not really want to go to Swap and less be confronted with his double but he had gone too far. He had to speak with him.

He waited to be certain that Sans fell asleep then went out of the house to go to the basement. The Machine was permanently lit there since its repair. Papyrus did not like that, it was a risk that one of his fellow countrymen, less clement than his brother or him, enter Swap to cause absolute carnage. He already had to silence certain monsters who wanted to enter "this world of weaklings" to gain free EXP. But Sans had assured him that nobody could enter the basement without the key.

He verified three times he closed well and truly the door with the key before diving into the portal. Here, the basement was wide open. Blue trusted too much that all those who could pass would be friendly.

He missed that small ball of energy a lot. Only thinking about his kindness and his naivety squeezed his non existing heart. Papyrus had really considered Blue as one of his best friends. And the idea to never see him again ate him from the inside. But, unlike Stretch, he had said goodbye. He had accepted. Nothing and no one could do something about it now.

His double being under house arrest, it was not surprised seeing a member of Guard, a rabbit bigger than Greater Dog but wide as a post, keeping the entrance.

"Good evening my friend!" Says the friendly rodent "I suspected that one or the other would come back after what happen. How is your bro? Not harm done I hope, you have to forgive Pap, what happened is really hard..."

Papyrus growled, annoyed. He did not like this familiarity.

"He is fine. Well, you let me in or must I kick your ass for this?"

"Wow calm down. I’ll let you in, he’s allowed visits but be nice to him okay?"

He ruled out and opened the door. He had not even locked. They really were amateurs in this world! Stretch could get out and he could bet this guard wouldn’t even stop him. He did not comment and entered.

The house was dark and cold.

It was a shock for him who had known it so bright and warm. He remembered the first time he had entered it. Blue had welcomed him with opened arms even if he had attacked him less than ten minutes prior. The fireplace was lit, then. Now, it stayed empty. He remembered clearly the smell of spice floating in the house. Now, only a light mixture of cigarette and dust smell filled the air.

The TV was put out, Blue left it mostly lit to never miss the emissions of Nabstabot. And this silence, heavy. It was as if the house had died with Sans’s counterpart.

A single thing showed that someone still lived here. Some cigarette ends, empty bottles of honey and some cake packaging laid on the ground near the sofa.

Blue would have never accepted so much dirt. Sans had warned him that Stretch was just letting himself go but Papyrus had not imagined that could become even dirtier than his brother in his worst days.

"Hey Ashtrash I have two words to tell you!"

He waited then saw his double getting out from Blue’s room. He looked like a monster rag.

" I thought you avoided me, Edge. " Answered his double in an annoyed tone.

" I have to speak to you. "

" I will not apologize. "

The fairly surnamed Edge growled out. Stretch didn’t seem to want to go down the staircases to speak face to face.

" I did not came for that. Comes down now "

Papyrus looked his double straight in the eyes, it did not took long before he capitulated and accepted to come down.

" Here is it's done. What you want from me now? Don’t you think you and your brother haven’t done enough already? "

" Exactly, no. " He answered slowly.

He let his shoulders fall, his threatening air giving way to his fatigue. Sans rarely saw only this part of him, the real him. He wore so often the mask of the Terrifying and Powerful Captain of the Royal Guard of Fell as he almost never dare to show the real him. But there, he needed to show his sincerity. And he needed Strech to understand.

His copy seemed suspicious.

" What? You want to drag me down too? You want to do to me what I’ve done to Red? Go ahead! You don’t know anything except fighting right? Then … "

" Shut your fucking mouth Stretch! You … You are not well, you need someone to takes care of you. "

" And that's it, advice again. I don’t need advice from you like I didn’t want advice from Red! "

" It is what you think but, believe me, you need us and all those close to you. You have to listen to them and speak to them about what you feel. You cannot remain closed like that. "

Stretch took a cigarette and lit it him in front of him. Blue would never have accepted that his brother smokes in the house.

" I am put under house arrest I really have no choice. "

" No, I meant close minded… The more you keep your thoughts for you and the more you will be unstable. I not worried about me or Red. Believe me, your punch hurted him less than what I can give him when we have to pretend to hate each other. You had no intention to hurt him. I’m worried for you. You were always a lazybone before but from what I way, the way you live is far beyond laziness. "

He paused to analyze Stretch’s face. He seemed lost in his thought. Hesitating. But the anger was always present in his posture, in his gestures. The way he sip at his cigarette was very revealing of his mood.

" You have to get it out. You have to speak about what you feel, to share your thoughts, you don’t have to bear all of this alone. If you keep on pushing away every help you’re going to explode at someone. And you will lose your friends too. "

Stretch sighed. One trembling sighs, as if he suppressed a sob. He went far, doubtless too far in his discour but he needed the Skeleton to react. To give all he hid inside. So his anger wouldn’t fall on Sans anymore. The only thing mission for the incident to transform in a tragedy was the intent. With the intent to hurt, he could have lost Sans like Stretch had lost Blue. And in pain, a friend could become an enemy within one second. And the intents change.

" Stretch… Let us help you. We know what what you’re going th … "

He was immediately interrupted by Stretch material. His tone was harsh but Papyrus discerned clearly the despair behind every word.

" Is that so? You know what that is to lose a brother? You really know what it is to not know if you’ll see the only person who matters in your life again? Right EDGE? You who know so much, go one and tell me that you know what I’m going through! Red must be sleep right now, no? What a horror to lose your brother to sleep! "

" Go one, continue… You’re not the first one nor the last one to live that Stretch!"

The smoker turned his head, apparently hurt to have been interrupted. What a brat… " Do I have to remind to you where we come from Sans and I? I saw hundreds of people in your case. A brother, a relative, a friend, a child … Everybody in my world lost at least a close friend, sometimes even in front of their own eyes. They all passed by the same stages. Even Sans… " This time, he read incredulity read in his double’s eyes. " Sits. " The tone was firm, but not authoritarian. Stretch obeys. " I was really young when my parents disappeared. I don’t reminder any of them, but you know the age difference between Sans and I. I don’t remember reacting to this. I can’t even recall I had any family except Sans, it’s complicated. But I saw my bro changing overnight. At first, he searched everywhere to find someone. Our father I think… Everything was very fuzzy for me. But he had to slow down then stop his searches to take care of me. Until the day when … " He took a deep breath. Just thinking about it again gave him shivers in all his bones. Automatically, one of the hands settled on the scar streaking his left eye.

" Sans grown tired of me. He said that I slowed him down. That it was all my fault, that if I had never been born, our parents would still be alive. He had so much repressed his anger that it exploded on me. I was what four? Five years old… No more. Facing an angry monster, ten years my elder. He burst out, I couldn’t calm him. I did not understood his acts, or why he held so much hatred in him. He never explained anything to me at that time. He lost my trust this day.  He… beat me up until I fainted. When I woke up, everything hurts and my vision was shady. It is only later that I saw the scar he left me. He tried to apologized but it was too late. It was the first time I saw him cry. I hated him for years after that. From this day, I stayed with him only because he how how to have food. But when I learned how to be autonomous I tried to run away from him. To leave him on his own. I wanted nothing to do with the one who beaten me. Sans gained his first LV that day. An older monster had chased after me. Even if I hated him, he saved my life. He explained the meaning of the law this day. Kill or be Killed. That to be alone meant the death for the small monster I was. So I stayed with him. We had to stick together to survive. Not as if I had the choice, he did not left me any more, even at night. But there was no love anymore, no trust either. Our relation was not of the most brotherly for years. It took me a lot of time to care about him again. Due to seeing other people crying their lost ones. See the anger they had, not wanting to face their own distress. Sometimes by my fault… I have never forgiven the gesture but I understood where from he came. I understood my error to refuse him my affection for all this years too. "

Stretch ha lowered his head at some time of the story, he looked at his sneakers now. Ashes from his cigarette had fallen on the couch.

" All this to explain you not to keep all this for you. You have friends out there who want to listen and support you. Sans and I aren't very far if you need us. But you also have to bring out all this sadness. You must not deny any more... "

" Please don’t … "

" Your brother is dead. "

Papyrus remained silent after this assertion. Still very calm. He saw of Stretch’s shoulders trembling. Then he finally heard the sobs. Tears are began to fall slowly on the carpet under the couch. He could not see the face of his counterpart but he imagined it well.

But he did not move. He never knew what to do when someone cried. Sometimes they needed someone near them, a cuddle of comfort, sometimes they needed solitude to totally let go and others just had to have a presence.

He felt tears flow down his own face. But he remained straight and deserving. Even if he had already accepted it did not mean that he didn’t had any more tears for Blue. He still felt terribly guilty of what might have happened.

" I am sorry Stretch. Sincerely. That's life. Shit happens... Like it or not, we can’t change the past. "

Stretch raised immediately his head to stare at him. Eaten away by the sorrow, the eyes contained however a slight hope.

" What if we could? "

[fanficsofmine]

Danger - Chapter 8

A/N: Sorry it's so late in the day! Work was crazy today. Enjoy! -T✨ 

Reader POV: I was ecstatic to be leaving the hospital. My vitals had cleared, and, short of a mild concussion, no long term damage was to be expected. 

 I anticipated that Chanyeol was ready to leave as well, as his long and lanky body had been sleeping on a hospital recliner. I offered to pay for him to visit a chiropractor after we left, but he refused. 

 "I wouldn't change my mind for a moment," he smiled down at me as he grabbed my hand while walking through the hospital doors. 

 "Um, Chanyeol, should we be doing this publicly yet," I started to pull my hand out of his as I continued, "what if this just makes it worse?" 

 His brow furrowed, but he nodded in agreement. 

 "The second that we get in the car, I'm holding that hand so tight," he smiled at me. 

 When we arrived at the dorm, I was surprised to see that everyone had put together a "Welcome home out of the hospital," party for me. There were balloons and streamers lining every wall. The kitchen was filled with all kinds of goodies, including a large cake with chocolate icing. 

 I skipped over to the table. Still sore, but also excessively excited. I ran my finger along the edge and took a bit of icing into my mouth. 

 "My favorite! Oh my god, it's so good to not eat hospital food anymore!" 

 "Slow down, crazy," Minseok laughed, "let us at least cut the cake before you devour the whole thing." 

 "Thank you guys for this," I smiled at them, but then felt it falter, "I'm sorry I've been such a burden..." I began to apologize, but was immediately cut off. 

 "No. Absolutely not. Do not start this," Junmyeon walked over to me and gently cupped my face. 

 "You aren't allowed to feel that way, okay?" He pulled me in for a hug as tears brimmed my eyes. I nodded into his chest. I knew that they would not want me feeling guilty, so I attempted to shove it down quickly. 

 After a few hours and several pieces of cake later, I realized that I was still exhausted from everything that had been happening the past few days. 

 "I think I'm going to call a Taxi home," I yawned. I stood up slowly and stretched, and was caught off guard when the guys all looked at each other confused. 

 "Did nobody tell her," Yixing asked the group. 

 "I thought the banner made it obvious," Kyungsoo responded. 

 "Um, made what obvious?" I was puzzled at all of their reactions. 

 "Jagiya," Chanyeol approached me and took my hand, "you're staying here now. SM has taken full responsibility for what happened to you. They want you under their supervision constantly to ensure this doesn't happen again. Most of your clothes have already been brought here." 

 My jaw dropped slightly. 

 "Wait... what? You can't be serious..." I was at a loss for words. As generous as the offer was, it did nothing but increase my anxiety over feeling like a burden. 

"Yes, very serious," Sehun said, "we're going to protect you. That's final. At least until we fully believe this has all died down." 

 I knew that arguing was pointless. They all seemed ready to argue back. 

 "So, uh, who am I kicking out of their bed then?" 

 They all laughed. 

 "We actually have some extra space for you. SM pulled down one of the beds from when Luhan, Tao, and Kris were still in the group. We did some rearranging, but you've got your own room for a bit," Jongdae said, and then came up and put his arm around me, "I know it's annoying. You're about to have the nine worse roommates you can imagine. But its temporary. We just need you safe, okay?" 

 The way Jongdae said the last sentence struck a chord with me. I made eye contact with him as he smiled at me, except it wasn't his normal Jongdae smile. It was smaller and softer. 

 I turned and hugged him. His hug back felt hesitant before he decided to fully embrace me. 

 Before he broke free, he whispered, "I'm so glad you're okay, love. I would be beside myself if you weren't." 

 He let me go and nodded at Chanyeol, "wanna go show her where her room is at?" 

 Chanyeol flashed a smile at me and said, "happily!" 

 "Keep the door open and behave yourselves," Junmyeon shouted after us, a teasing tone in his voice. 

 "Okay, mooooom," I called back. 

 I couldn't stand the thought of them being put out because of me, but I was also painfully relieved to not have to go home alone tonight. 

Sehun POV: I would be lying if I said that adjusting to the new schedule of having to look out for (Y/N) and still fitting in the comeback wasn't difficult. 

There was adjusting when she got out of classes and making sure one of us could pick her up. There was having to remember that she woke up earlier than us, so walking to the kitchen with morning wood was probably not the smartest thing anymore. I learned that one the hard way, no pun intended. 

 But we did it. We adapted. And we didn't mind. It was our fault that she was in this mess, so it was only right of us to take care of her. 

 I was free one afternoon and picked her up from classes. We had been in the clear recently from and trouble. We were able to get a couple of stalkers arrested who attempted to follow her home after a photo of her and Chanyeol walking out of the hospital holding hands had leaked. It had been relatively quiet otherwise. 

 "Y'know what, (Y/N)," I asked as I turned the wheel of my car around, "I think you need a pick me up." 

 She turned and smiled at me. "What did you have in mind?" 

 "I know a place with the absolute best bubble tea. We're gonna go get some." 

She rolled her eyes, "is this pick me up for me, or you?" She laughed when she said it. It was great to hear her laugh. I had missed seeing her happy. 

 "Both!" 

 We talked about her classes on the way to the restaurant, and I let her pay for my drink. She demanded, stating that everyone else had been making demands of her, so it was her turn. I didn't mind. I got free bubble tea out of it. 

 As we headed back to the car, I realized that I had left my keys on the counter. "You okay while I run back in," I asked. She nodded and showed me that Chanyeol was calling her. She opened the car door to hop in the passenger seat as I went back inside to the shop. 

 I thanked the waitress for grabbing them for me. She nodded, and then let out a gasp as she looked out of the window behind me. 

 I whipped around, horrified to see that our nightmare had found us. Three girls surrounded my car. They had the passenger side door open, and one of them had (Y/N) by the hair. They yanked her out of the car by it and threw her to the ground. 

 The second she hit the pavement, the started kicking her. I saw one girl use her bag and swing it at her several times, making contact with (Y/N)'s face. The bag seemed weighted, which I instantly realized meant that she had something heavy in it intentionally to cause more damage. 

 I shouted at the waitress to call the police as I sprinted out of the door. I got to (Y/N) right as she was jumping to her feet and starting to defend herself. I saw her lay several slaps and swings on these girls, and almost hesitated out of shock and pride of how great of a job she was doing. 

 Three against one was still an unfair fight, though, so I stepped in. 

 I grabbed (Y/N) by the waist as she started shouting, calling these girls "fucking bitches." "You think that you're so badass. Fucking let me go, Sehun. Let me finally fucking defend myself, please. I'm so god damn tired of this!" 

 I managed to get her flailing body in the car again and I shut the door as she repeated several expletives at these girls through the window. She was hitting the glass and I was terrified that she was going to shatter it and make it worse. 

 I turned back to the three girls who were, surprisingly, still there. I was satisfied to see that (Y/N) had landed enough hits to cause them to bruise and bleed. They looked at me, surprised. 

 "Sehun-ah. We were just trying to protect you. This girl, she," I cut the girl off by raising my hand. 

 "Protect me by attacking my friend?" I was shouting when I didn't mean to. I saw them all flinch under my loud voice. 

 "But... Chanyeol... and now you," one of the other girls began to have tears welling in her eyes. 

 "She is none of your business," I kept them talking so they would not leave, and the second that the police sirens filled the air, panic filled all of their faces.

 The Police made us stay there long enough to get our information and statements. (Y/N) looked defeated. I put my arm around her shoulder and guided her back to the car. I noted that her stitches on her scalp had broken loose and cursed under my breath. 

 "We're gonna have to take you to a hospital," I whispered. I rested my head on the steering wheel of the car. I reached over and grabbed her hand. She turned to me. It seemed wrong that, in this moment, I was the one needing comfort.

 "Sehun, there was nothing that you could have done. They were determined." She squeezed my hand and smiled at me. I felt my disappointment in myself lessen a little bit. She was very comforting, and I appreciated her efforts. 

 "We really should get you re-stitched up," I tell her, looking at the blood flowing down her cheek. 

 "Can we, um, not tell everybody else that this happened? I would really prefer to not be on total house arrest lock down." She looked at me, hopeful. 

 "Yeah, that's fair," I said. It didn't feel right. I didn't want to lie to the guys at all. I also needed to give her a win.  

Jongdae POV: It was difficult having (Y/N) around constantly. It's not because I didn't want her to be, it was extremely hard watching her fall in love with Chanyeol more daily. It was hard watching him sneak off to her room when Sehun would text him that Junmyeon had gone to bed and wouldn't scold him.

 I avoided the dorm as much as possible. I sat in on the other guys' studio times. I stayed late at dance rehearsals. I did everything in my power to not be around. 

 I thought I was doing alright, until I got a text message one day. 

 Receive Text Message: Hey Dae! I haven't seen you around. I miss you!  Send Text Message: Ah. Yeah. I've been really busy with CBX and the comeback all so close.  Receive Text Message: You sure you aren't just avoiding me? 

 My breath caught a bit in my throat.  Receive Text Message: jk! jk! Send Text Message: Aish. Had me scared. Thinking you thought I didn't like you anymore hahaha.  Send Text Message: What are you doing tomorrow? Wanna go grab some ice cream? Receive Text Message: Sure. Sounds good! 

 I exited out of my texts. I would tell her. I had to. I had to tell her that, although I knew that she was happy with Chanyeol, I couldn't go another day without her knowing I had feelings for her. If I got it out of the way, maybe I could move on. 

 I opened up my phone again to scroll through social media, when something caught my eye. 

 "EXO's Sehun Seen In Parking Lot Brawl." 

 "What the hell," I whispered as I clicked the link to the article. It went into detail about how three girls had been arrested and detained for assaulting an unnamed female in the parking lot of a restaurant. She had been seen getting into Sehun's car when the girls attacked her. 

 I grabbed my jacket, livid. I left the studio and sped to dorms where I found Sehun sitting in the living room with Chanyeol, (Y/N), Minseok, and Jongin. 

 I opened my phone to the news article and tossed it to him. 

 "Are you fucking kidding me? Neither of you felt it necessary to let us know this went on?!" 

 "What's going on," Jongin sat up quickly. 

 "Fuck," (Y/N) whispered. She leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees as she buried her face in her hands. 

 "What the hell is going on?" Chanyeol reached for my phone and his face flushed furious when he skimmed the article. He handed the phone to Minseok, who read the title out loud. 

"God fucking dammit," Jongin raised his voice. 

 "Stop. All of you," (Y/N), literally, put her foot down as she stood up. 

 "Don't. Don't start with me. Or Sehun. Any of you. It is my fault he didn't say anything. He was appeasing my request. I couldn't stand the thought of being completely unable to leave the dorm, because I know that's exactly what you would make me do," she pointed at Chanyeol, who suddenly looked like a scolded puppy. 

 "I am so over this. I want to live my life, and, shit, apparently that's too much to ask. So yeah, I asked Sehun to not tell you. So what?! So. Fucking. What." She turned and went to her room, slamming the door behind her. 

 We all sat, silently looking at one another. 

 "Jongdae. Chanyeol," Sehun started, but I hushed him. 

 "No, no. She's right. You did the right thing, Sehun." I walked over and sat by him. He breathed a heavy sigh of relief. 

 "What the fuck are we gonna do, guys," Minseok groaned as he fell back onto the couch. 

 "I don't know," I replied, "but we have to figure it out quick." 

Yixing POV: (Y/N) asked me to take her to class that day. Lately, Chanyeol had taken her, but I accepted her request. 

 She was quiet on the way there. I tried to talk to her, but I was getting no responses more than one or two words. 

 As she got out of the car, I lightly grabbed her arm. 

 "Things will ease up. I promise." She smiled for the first time, genuinely.

 "Thanks Yixing. I know." She leaned over the center console and gave me a hug. 

 The rest of my day went as expected. I planned a few events for my solo stuff and recorded bits of my album for the comeback. 

 Around 4 pm, Jongdae texted me. 

 Receive Text Message: You didn't pick (Y/N) up from school, did you? Send Text Message: You told me you were going to? Receive Text Message: I'm here. I can't find her. She's not answering her phone. I went to her last period to find her and her teacher said that she wasn't in class today. 

 My heart sunk in my chest. 

 Send Text Message: I'll be right there. 

 I arrived at the admissions office and approached the clerk. 

 "Hi. My name is Zhang Yixing. I'm one of the emergency contacts for (Y/N). We were told she didn't make it to class. Is there any information you can give me?" 

 After verifying who I was, she smiled as she said that she would look up her information. Her face faltered slightly when she said, "she didn't tell you she was unenrolling from classes?" 

 Both Jongdae and my expressions must have dropped. I saw concern cross her face as she turned her computer. 

 "She left us a forwarding address in America. She said something about having an emergency and needing to go home. She said we could mail her her book refund." 

 I thanked her for her information, turned on my heel, and marched out of the office. The second that we were outside, Jongdae and I sprinted to my car. We left Dae's there as we sped to the dorms. 

 I used my Bluetooth to dial Junmyeon's number. 

 "Get everybody together. Now." I hung up, not wanting to explain over the phone. We got to the dorm and ran inside. 

 "What the hell is going on," Chanyeol asked, then, looking at Jongdae said, "where is (Y/N)? I thought she was going out with you, Dae?" 

 I didn't sugar coat it. 

 "She's gone. She went back to America. She's gone."