#i said plane driver instead of pilot because it made me laugh

[whosbian]

[tobesolonely]

it’s not christmas ‘til you come home

a/n: hello!! please enjoy this piece from my dad!harry universe! (u dont have to read any of them for it to make sense, but it would be cool if u did! loosely based on it’s not christmas ‘til you come home by norah jones <3 hope you enjoy! thank u to @harryysstyless​ for beta reading for me!! happy holidays everyone :)

warnings: SMUT, a bit of angst <3 word count: ~5.1k 

my ko-fi! thank you :)

December 23rd, 2:00 PM

For as long as you and Harry have been in a relationship, you’ve never not spent a Christmas together. 

Before expanding your family, you and he used to hop from party to party every Christmas Eve. Both of you would be absolutely trashed by the time Harry’s driver would drop you off at his house in the early hours of the morning. You’d sleep in until approximately noon, willing your hangovers to go away before finally making it down the stairs and into the kitchen to prepare two steaming cups of coffee. The two of you would then make your way into the living room and exchange gifts (where Harry always went way over the budget you’d set). 

Once you had your first child, Allison, your yearly tradition of party hopping and getting so drunk you could hardly put one foot in front of the other was no more. Instead, you and Harry opted for calm nights in, watching Christmas movies and drinking hot cocoa until she eventually grew tired and got carried up to bed. You would wait an hour or so before springing into action, playing Santa and setting out all of the gifts she asked for and then some. Harry never forgot to take a big bite out of the cookie and carrot left out for Santa and his reindeer.

This tradition stayed the same once your second baby, Oliver, was born. Even though he was too young to know what was going on, Harry was still excited to spoil him rotten this year as it was his first Christmas. However, given the current state of the world, you were afraid Harry would not be here for the first time ever.

“Mumma, when’s daddy coming home?” your six-year-old, Ally, asked for what had to be the seventh time that afternoon. “I made him a drawing for his gift ‘nd I can’t wait for him to see it!”

“Let me see what you drew for Daddy, love bug,” you say cheerily, purposefully glossing over her question. Ally proudly holds her drawing up next to her face. She looks up at you with wide eyes, awaiting a compliment from you. 

“That’s gorgeous, bug! Daddy’s gonna love it,” you inform her. “Maybe you can stick a lil’ bow on it and set it under the tree for him, hmm?” 

“Good idea, Mumma!” Ally runs to the box where you kept all the supplies for gift wrapping, digging around for a pink bow to stick on the corner of her drawing.

While she’s preoccupied with finding the perfect bow to place on her drawing for Harry, you take a quick glance at your phone. He still hadn’t gotten back to you since last night’s quick conversation when he very briefly mentioned he didn’t know if he’d be able to make it home.

He was filming in Los Angeles. You shared your uncertainties about him going before he departed but in the end, this was an opportunity you didn’t want him to miss out on. You read the Los Angeles Times free articles on your phone daily, keeping track of the state of the pandemic in Southern California. You knew it was much worse there than it was at home in London. You feared what you were afraid of was sadly bound to happen— Harry may get stuck in LA.

You didn’t want to say anything to your curious daughter because communication with him had been so sparse. You didn’t know anything for certain yet. But what were you supposed to think? You knew flying nationally wasn’t a good idea at the moment, never mind internationally.

“Hey bug, d’ya think you can watch your brother for a moment? Mumma’s gotta go make a phone call.” 

You hear your daughter let out a slightly irritated sigh. “I suppose I can, Mumma.” Ally responds with a voice laced with exasperation. You chuckle slightly under your breath at your overly dramatic (much like her dad) six-year-old and head into the kitchen, quickly dialing your husband’s familiar number.

“Hello?” 

You let out a sigh of relief upon hearing Harry’s low, hoarse voice. 

“Hi, honey. Just checkin’ in to see how things are going…” you hear shuffling on his end. “It’s December 23rd, you know.”

“I know, love.”

“Did I wake you?”

“Six in tha’ mornin’ here.”

“I’m sorry, H. S’just Allison keeps on askin’ when you’ll be home and ‘m just so worried you won’t make it home on time and you’ll miss Oliver’s first Christmas—“

“Darling,” Harry interrupts your anxiety-fueled ramble. “‘M gonna make it home. Have I ever not been there when I said I would?” 

“No,” you say quietly. “I’m just worried, Harry. I hear traveling is going to get very strict because they’re trying to prevent people from going anywhere for Christmas…”

“Fine, then I’ll get my own plane with jus’ me and a pilot. Wear a mask the entire time and whatnot. Yanno I can make that happen if it’s necessary, pet.” 

Harry’s calm demeanor about the whole situation brings you a bit of peace. Perhaps you were catastrophizing something that wasn’t as big of a deal as you thought it was a mere two minutes ago. If he wasn’t worried about not making it home, you didn’t see any reason to stress about it— not for one second longer.

“Okay then,” you reply, still a bit wary of his travel plans. “What shall I tell your daughter? She’s drivin’ me up the walls asking where you are every twenty minutes.”

Your husband lets out a breathy laugh, causing you to giggle along with him. “Tell her not to eat up all the Christmas cookies before I get a taste of one.”

December 24th, 8:45 AM

Part of you was hoping you’d wake up on Christmas Eve and Harry would be tucked into bed next to you, plump lips parted, the sound of his snores the only noise in the room. However, you were a rational woman, if nothing else. You knew he wouldn’t be by your side when you woke up. 

You make your way down the hall and peek inside your son’s room. He was fast asleep, plump thumb in his mouth. You smile at your sleeping baby and gently close the door behind you, deciding to let him sleep in a bit longer before waking him up to feed him. 

Next, you walk to your daughter's room, gently pushing open the door in case she was still sleeping. Instead, you find her sat at her desk, deeply focused on what appeared to be another drawing. 

“Good morning, lovebug,” you greet your daughter in a sing-songy voice. “You’re up early. What are you working on?”

“Makin’ a letter for Santa,” she replies, not bothering to look up from what she was doing. 

“A letter for Santa?” You start racking your brain for anything you and Harry could’ve possibly forgotten to get for Ally, but you finished your Christmas shopping for your children way back in November.

“Yes,” she answers matter-of-factly. “‘M askin’ him to make sure my Daddy is home by tonight so we can eat cookies together and watch Toy Story, Mumma.” 

“I’m sure Santa will make that happen for you,” you reassure her. “You’ve been a very good girl this year, been so helpful with Olly and doin’ so well in school. The least Santa can do is get you whatever you want.” You see her smile as she digs around in her crayon box.

“Can we wait ‘til Daddy gets home to make Santa’s cookies, Mumma?”

“Sure we can, bug,” Ally claps her hands together excitedly, bouncing around in her tiny chair. “Gonna go make some pancakes, does that sound yummy?”

“Can we have chocolate chip pancakes please?”

“Are you askin’ me that because your dad isn’t here to throw a fit about it?” You give her a knowing smile, causing her to giggle.

“Maaaaybe…” Your daughter turns to face you, swinging her legs back and forth.

“If I make your chocolate chip pancakes, you can’t tell your dad. Deal?” You hold up your pinky. Ally gets up and runs to you and you bend down slightly so she can link her finger with yours.

“I pinky promise, Mumma!”

“Our little secret, yeah?” she nods. “Keep an ear out for your brother for me, bug. I’ll be downstairs.”

December 24th, 3:00 PM

“Love? ‘M afraid I got some bad news...”

As soon as Harry’s voice comes through on the other line, you can tell whatever news he’s about to share with you won’t be what you’re wanting to hear.

“What is it?”

It’s silent for what feels like entirely too long. You get up from your position on the couch next to Ally, telling her you’ll be right back. After breakfast, she convinced you to watch Toy Story with her, which quickly turned into a whole Disney movie marathon.

“Not so sure I’ll be able to make it home.”

You’re not sure if it’s his calm tone that bothers you, the fact that you didn’t want him to go to Los Angeles in the first place, or simply the fact that you and your children missed him terribly and haven’t seen him in nearly a month–– but your mood changes from relaxed to undeniably outraged in three seconds flat.

“You’re kidding.” Your tone is sharp, venomous. Harry once again takes a moment before responding, knowing that the current tone of your voice means he’d best proceed with caution.

“‘M not, love. I woke up early and everything to try and get this sorted out, it’s 7 AM so I was gonna try and catch an early flight––”

“I told you I didn’t want you going to LA,” you cut him off, voice rising slightly. “You knew how bad the pandemic was getting there. I told you this would happen.”

“What do you suppose I do then, Y/N?” His tone is becoming equally as sharp. “Y’want me to tell ‘em, “Sorry, I don’t give a fuck about the travel restrictions. My wife wants me home so let's make it happen!” ‘S that what you want me to do?”

“Don’t be a smartass, Harry,” you spit. “I’ll give the phone to your daughter and you can tell her you won’t be home in time for Christmas, then.”

“Y/N…” his tone is calm again. Fearful. “Don’t make me do that.”

“She woke up early to write a letter to Santa to tell him she wants you home by tonight, Harry,” your tone softens as well. “Even Olly has been asking for you. Swear his new favorite word is ‘dada’.” He laughs at this as do you, and the shared tension that was present just minutes ago dissipates. 

“Just… lemme try a few more things before I tell her, yeah?”

“Harry, it’s already three here,” you gently remind him. “Even if you do make it home today, she’ll be asleep by the time you’re home. I think you just need to tell her.”

Your husband sighs, knowing you were undeniably correct. “Alright. Give Allison the phone, please.”

December 24th, 8 PM

“Almost time for you to head to bed soon, yeah Allybug?” Your daughter lets out a loud sigh in response, not shifting her gaze from the television to you. Ever since Harry told her he wouldn’t be home in time to eat cookies with her, she’s hardly said a word. She’s never experienced a Christmas Eve without her father so understandably, she was missing him tonight.

You shift Olly, who was falling asleep nursing on your lap, into a different position so you could face your daughter directly. From your new position, you can see just how tired she looks. 

“‘M not sleepy, Mumma. Gonna stay up and wait for Daddy,” she informs you of her new plans. “When Daddy is home that’s when it’s time for bed.”

“Ally, remember what Daddy told you on the phone earlier? Santa won’t come unless you go to sleep.”

“I don’t wanna sleep,” she’s quickly starting to grow upset. “Not until Daddy tucks me in!”

You purse your lips, not wanting to argue with your headstrong daughter when your son was so close to drifting off into his nightly milk coma. Turning your attention back to the movie that was quietly playing on the television, you decide to drop it for now and try again later.

December 24th, 9:05 PM

Not more than an hour later, Olly is upstairs in his crib fast asleep whilst Ally is still laying on the floor in front of the Christmas tree, fighting sleep. She was determined to stay up until her father walked through the front door, and you knew getting her to agree to go to bed was going to be a battle and a half.

“You’re not ready to go to bed yet, Ally?” Her eyes fly open once she hears you addressing her.

“Not yet, Mumma. ‘M not sleepy yet.” Her words are a little slurred due to the exhausted state she was in. You hum in response.

“Could’ve sworn your eyes just shut for a minute there,” you pause for a second to see if she’ll look your way. “Must’ve just been my old lady eyes playin’ tricks on me, y’think?”

“I wasn’t sleeping!” She immediately defends herself, frown lines indenting her forehead. “Can we drink more hot chocolate?”

You knew if you wanted your daughter to fall asleep within the hour, another sugar rush wasn’t the best idea. You instead offer her a hot cup of sleepytime tea and she excitedly agrees once you tell her it’s her father’s favorite type of tea to drink at bedtime. You place her down on the kitchen counter while you fill the kettle and wait for it to whistle.

“What are you looking forward to the most from Santa, bug?” 

Her eyes light up at your question. “Well, I really want a new bike! ‘Member Mumma? How I asked him for a pink bike? And I also want a cool swing set! Since we haven’t been able to go to the park in so long,” her smile falters and she looks down at her dangling feet. “I want Daddy to come home the mostest, though.”

Your heart feels like it’s going to break in two upon hearing your daughter admit that Harry being home would be the greatest gift of all. “So do I, lovebug. He’ll be here in the mornin’ to watch you and your brother open all the gifts Santa got you though, don’t you worry.”

For everyone’s sake, you hoped that was true.

December 24th, 11:50 PM

Sleep wasn’t coming easy. 

You finally got your daughter to bed at around ten o’clock and waited thirty minutes before laying out your children’s gifts. It took much longer than it usually did considering you had to do it all on your own. Harry was usually the one to quickly assemble the larger toys while you laid everything out around the living room. 

Despite it taking longer than desired, you were proud that you got it all done without waking your children up. Consequently, that meant you were now left all alone with your thoughts considering you had no more tasks to occupy yourself with. 

You kept contemplating calling Harry, but you weren’t sure if he was busy on set or not. Surely he was immersing himself in work to distract himself from the fact he would not be spending Christmas with his family. 

Deciding you may need a cup of the sleepytime tea you offered Allison earlier, you quietly get out of bed and open your door, sock-clad feet padding softly against the wooden floors. It’s unnervingly silent in your home–– the tea kettle coming to a boil being the only source of noise. You keep unlocking and re-locking your phone, finally deciding to call your husband to see how he’s spending his day. It goes to automatic voicemail.

You assume the reason for this must be that he’s busy filming on set and set your phone down with a sigh, standing on your tiptoes to retrieve a mug from the cabinet. You mutter a slew of curse words under your breath intended for Harry who always puts the mugs up far too high even though you tell him not to.

Right as you begin pouring the now boiling water into your teacup, the faint jingling of your front door causes you to startle so badly that you nearly drop the kettle on the ground. You try to think back to everything Harry ever told you to do in the event of an intruder but your mind goes blank from fright. Deciding to use the scalding water as your weapon, you slowly creep towards the door, your only plan being to fling the water on whoever it was as soon as they got the door open. As soon as you hear the lock click, you flick the lid open that covers the spout and draw your arm back.

“Shit––”

“Harry?”

Your husband jumps slightly, his eyes blinking rapidly in an effort to adjust to the dark living room. You reach beside him and quickly turn on the light, shakily letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. He looks exhausted, his hair is an absolute mess, and his eyes are red from sleep deprivation–– but he’s home. You set the tea kettle down on the coffee table and fling yourself into his arms, breathing in the scent of the man you haven’t seen in a month. He drops his bags at his feet so he can properly embrace you, pulling you into him.

“Merry Christmas, darling,” he presses a kiss to the top of your head and stays like that for a moment saying nothing, just breathing you in. “Missed ya so fuckin’ much.

“How? I thought…” you trail off. “You said that they said…”

Harry laughs quietly. “Remember what I told ya? I said to ‘em, ‘Don’t give a fuck about your travel restrictions! M’wife wants me home.’” You laugh at him, knowing he was far too kind to talk to anyone that way. 

“Yeah, okay,” you reply sarcastically. You pull him in for another hug, placing wet kisses along his jawline. “I’m so happy you’re home. The kids are gonna be over the moon, especially Allison.” Harry hums, surveying the room.

“Looks like you did a good job in here, Mrs. Claus. See ya even assembled some toys all by yourself,” he quirks an eyebrow. “Were you jus’ pretendin’ not to know how to do it all these years so I’d be stuck with all the hard labor?”

“Maybe.”

He pulls you back into him, tickling your sides. “My sneaky girl,” he bends down so his lips are level with your neck and sucks gently, causing you to let out a quiet moan. You see his eyes land on the tea kettle that was sitting forgotten on the coffee table. “Making a cuppa? Can I have one? ‘M freezin’.”

“I can think of something else we can do to get you warmed up,” you reach for his hands, interlocking his fingers with yours. “If you know what I’m gettin’ at.”

“Hmm…” Harry releases one of his hands from your grip and taps at his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “Not too sure I can say I know what you’re sayin’. Maybe you should just tell me?”

You frown. “You’re really gonna make me say it, huh?”

“Y’know I’d give you the entire world if you asked me for it. All you gotta do is tell me what you want from me and it’s yours–– ‘m sure you’ve known that since the first day we met, though.” Harry takes a step back, crossing his arms across his chest. Even in his thick winter coat, you can see the way his biceps flex, and it makes you even more feral for him.

“Fine,” you say quietly, feeling yourself start to grow shy under his intense gaze. “I’m kinda... in the mood.” You say it so softly that it would most likely be inaudible to Harry if he wasn’t standing mere inches away from you. Harry throws his head back in laughter and you quickly shush him, not wanting any of your children to wake up.

“In the mood? C’mon, pet,” he uncrosses his arms and reaches for one of your hands. “Tha’s not tellin’ me what you want from me. Tell me exactly what you want, lovie.”

“You know what I want, H,” you tell him with a hint of annoyance in your voice. “It’s been a month. Yanno I want you to fuck me, why are you makin’ me say it?”

Harry gives you a shit-eating grin. “You jus’ said it. I didn’t make you say anything.”

You roll your eyes at his immaturity, already in the process of lifting your nightshirt (one of his old t-shirts that’s become just a little too tight on him) over your head. “Are we gonna get to it or not? Because if not, I’ll just go back to makin’ myself some tea and call it a night––”

Harry takes half a step towards you and reaches up to cup your face, colliding his lips with yours. His lips are a little chapped and taste of his favorite rose lip balm. You feel your body relaxing into the kiss, knees going weak as he walks you back onto the couch.

“You’ve been eatin’ up all the sugar cookies, haven’t you? Can taste it on ya. Thought those were for Santa,” he’s pulled away from you to examine your face. “A bit naughty of you, wouldn’t ya say?”

“Please stop referring to yourself as Santa when we’re about to have sex, Harry.”

“You’re not bein’ very kind to the person that’s about to go down on you, are you?” He sucks harshly on the valley between your breasts, wanting to be sure a deep-colored bruise will appear on your skin later. “That’s okay. It is Christmas, after all. ‘M in a giving mood.”

“Stop talking and get to it then.”

Harry slides off the couch and onto his knees in between your legs, gently kissing your thighs. “Cute pair of undies–– s’like you knew I was comin’ home tonight.” Before you can respond Harry’s fingers are tugging at the waistband of your underwear, eager to get them off of you. He presses light kisses to your core, mumbling about how much he missed the smell of you and how sweet you tasted. 

One hand is resting across your stomach while the other one is in between your folds, spreading you open. You try squeezing your thighs around his head, overwhelmed by the feeling of your husband’s lips around your clit after being away from him for so long, but he removes his hand from your stomach and pushes your thighs back apart.

“Feels so good,” you’re breathless, tangling your fingers in Harry’s hair as his hollowed cheeks begin to suck more roughly on your clit. “Missed you so much. Missed this–– us.” 

Harry pauses momentarily to look up at you. “I know, angel. God, do I know.” He attaches his lips back on you, swirling his tongue around your clit as you  choke back your moans. The hand that is holding you open moves down to toy at your slit as he wordlessly checks to see if you’re okay with his fingers being in you. 

“Please,” you say softly, encouraging his next move. He spits on his index and pointer finger before slowly sliding both of them in you, immediately curling them up. “Oh, Harry. Fuckin’ love when you do tha’...”

“Know you do,” His response is curt, simple. He’s focused on the task at hand–– getting you off. He uses the hand that’s lying across your stomach to rub tight circles on your clit, sensing you’re nearing your orgasm from the way you’re starting to clench around him. “Such a good girl fo’ me, darlin’. Gonna make a mess on my fingers in a second, aren’t you?”

You nod as you try to control your breathing and the loudness of your moans. The last thing you wanted was for your daughter to come down to inspect the source of the noise. “Fuck, Harry.” 

“Come on, darlin’,” he gently pinches your clit, causing your body to jolt at the sensation. “Gimme a good one. A lil’ welcome back gift for me, hmm?” 

Your hips are bucking up to the rhythm of his fingers slipping in and out of you as your orgasm quickly approaches. “Har, I’m close…” it comes out sounding more like a warning than a statement. He moves the two fingers he has inside of you in a back and forth motion, coaxing your first orgasm out of you.

“Tha’s my girl,” he whispers, not stopping his movements even as your back arches as your first orgasm rolls over you like a giant wave. “Givin’ me a good one jus’ like I knew you would. Jus’ like you always do. M’ sweet girl.” As you’re starting to still, Harry pulls his fingers out of you and holds them up to your mouth, instructing you to suck them clean. 

You prop yourself up on your elbows so you can properly lean in to steal a kiss from him and notice a rather sizable tent has formed in his pants. Harry gives you a sheepish grin as he palms himself, hissing from the feel of his palm against his cock.

“Want me to do somethin’ about that?” You scoot over on the couch and pat the spot next to you, signaling for your husband to sit beside you. He lifts himself from his seated position, stretching his legs out a bit before plopping down beside you.

“Are you offerin’ me a blowie?”

“I mean, yeah?”

“Can we skip that an’ you can jus’ ride me instead? Think I’d quite like that.”

“Oh you would, would ya?”

Harry nods and unzips his pants, taking himself out. He licks his hand and gives himself a few pumps. “Still on birth control, I’m assuming?”

You roll your eyes as you move to straddle him. “Only been gone for a month, Harry. Of course ‘m still on it, you goof.”

“Can never be too careful. I don’t think now’s a good time for another lil’ one, do you? Think we should at least celebrate Oliver’s first birthday before we try for another one.” His hands are on his hips as he lines you up over his cock, helping you slowly sink down. You missed the burn of him which was even more intense than it usually was considering it’s been a while since he’s taken you.

“I think you’re right,” you reply. You rest your head on his shoulder while you adjust to the size of him, needing to take a moment to yourself before attempting to move. After a short adjustment period you begin rolling your hips, grinding against him in a way that was also bringing pleasure to your clit, still swollen and sensitive from your last orgasm.

Harry’s eyes are fixated on the way your breasts bounce in front of him, the way your stomach slightly jiggles each time you crash back down onto him. His lips are caught in between his teeth; you’re hoping he doesn’t break any skin so you don’t have to hear him whine about how badly the bruise hurts him later.

“Ridin’ me like your life depends on it,” Harry mutters. “Fuckin’ love takin’ you like this, angel. So fuckin’ deep.”

You simply hum in agreement, brain far too foggy to form a coherent sentence. Harry notices your movements starting to become smaller, lazier, so he puts his hands on your hips and decides to take over. He’s thrusting up into you like you’ll up and run away from him if he doesn’t give it his all. He cups your face with one hand and gently guides you towards him, pressing open-mouthed kisses against your lips.

“Fuck, H,” your eyes are squeezed shut and your wrap your arms around his neck, feeling your second orgasm quickly approaching. “Rub my clit please, almost there.”

Harry’s fingers immediately come down to rub at your slick nub, not faltering his relentless pace in the slightest. “Clench around me again, lovie,” his voice is higher than usual, whiny, and you know your husband is just as close as you are. “Love when you do tha’, jus’ need you to do it one more time.”

You do as he wishes once more, knowing once he cums you’ll be directly behind him. Harry lets out a string of expletives as he releases inside of you, pulling you tightly against his chest as he rides out his orgasm. You continue riding him, not slowly down as you chase your own release next.

“Harry,” you’re in a trance-like state, chanting his name over and over as you bring yourself over the edge. “Harry, fuck!”

“That’s my good girl,” he says quietly, rubbing your back as you rest your head on his shoulder while you catch your breath. You feel him beginning to soften inside of you so you lift yourself off and lay back on the couch, legs still shaking. It’s quiet for a couple of minutes as the two of you reveal in the afterglow of your orgasms, Harry gently running his fingers along your leg.

“Round two in the shower?”

December 25th, 6:42 AM

“Mumma! Santa came and he left lots of toys–– Daddy?”

Harry lets out a dramatic “oof!” as Ally jumps onto him, pulling the covers back. Her eyes are wide and she giggles are Harry pulls her into one of his infamous bear hugs, placing kisses all over his face.

“Mornin’, love bug! What’re you doin’ up so early?”

“It’s Christmas, Daddy! Santa came!” she sits back on her feet, a confused look on her face. “Did Santa bring you on his sleigh last night after me ‘n Olly went to bed?”

“Y’know what? He told me to keep it a secret, but he did,” Allison gasps in response to his news as she processes it, placing a little hand over her mouth. Harry sits up and gets out of bed, scooping her up in the process. “How ‘bout we go make Mum a cuppa before we see what Santa got for you and Olly? Tha’ sound good? Let’s let them sleep for a while longer, hmm?”

As you hear them exit the room you take a second to reflect on how lucky you are to spend another Christmas with you beautiful family before drifting back off into a deep, albeit short, sleep.

[aliwritesfic]

The Night Shift part 11 (F!Reader x Frankie Morales)

WC: 3.3k

AN: Yall I'm so sorry this took ages to be updated, my laptop screen broke and the repair place had to wait over a week for a new one, I hope the end of this part makes up for it <3 Parts will also be slower to come out as I'm starting my next semester of uni on Monday and that's going to take up a large chunk of my time, but I'm still going to try and put out a new part at least once a week

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Part 1 Part 12 (coming soon) Masterlist

Friday arrived far too quickly for Frankie’s liking. So quickly he had gotten himself into a routine of being with you, and it felt like it was being ripped away from him. Of course, he knew that it would happen, he hadn’t deluded himself into thinking it wouldn’t, but still . . . still he had grown so used to your presence that when it was finally time to “get your shit from that ugly ass motherfucker” (Will’s words, not his), he felt almost depressed.

You were perched on his couch when he woke up late Friday morning, a cup of steaming coffee clutched in your hand, your gaze fixed absently on a point on the wall. He called your name gently, not wanting to scare you. You blinked a couple times, as if coming out of a trance. He knew the look well.

“Didn’t sleep?” he poured himself a cup and sat down next to you. You shook your head.

“Not great. I think an hour, maybe. But like, really shitty sleep.”

“Not fully asleep but not fully awake?” Frankie suggested, having become very accustomed to the feeling during his military time. You nodded, giving him a tired smile. He understood your exhaustion. You had spent every waking moment stressed about the move, online shopping to replace the things that you were leaving at Kurt’s, and then stressing some more. You had picked up the keys on Wednesday and Frankie had gone with you to check the place out.

It was a bright, airy place, seven floors up with huge windows and a tiny balcony off the living area. Frankie had noticed your eyes shining as you took it all in, almost like you couldn’t believe it was yours. You had wiped away a tear, taking in the view of the lake by the apartment complex.

Frankie had come with his measuring tape and notebook from his mechanic days. He measured each room, each alcove where a piece of furniture would sit, and wrote them down diligently with a messy scrawl on a page labelled with your name.

When you had gotten back to his place, you set to work writing down a list of what was yours and what you needed to replace. At the top of that list was a bed, heavily underlined and circled.

“The bed’s mine, technically,” you explained as you clicked on a display photo of a wrought iron bed frame, “but he can keep it. I want a fresh start, and I think I need a new bed to do that.”

“Makes sense,” Frankie said sitting down beside you, “is that the one you’re going with?”

You had nodded, clicking add to cart. The store had next day delivery, and for a small fee would even build the bed for you. You opted for this, despite Frankie’s protests.

“Please, you’re doing so much already, and putting my whole bed together for me . . . it feels like a very unfair trade,” you told him firmly. Once again, your stubbornness had won over. Frankie, rather grudgingly, had to admit to himself that the delivery people were much quicker than he would’ve been at assembling the bed frame, especially after he had taken a quick look at the instructions.

He wasn’t about to tell you that though.

It was almost midday when a knock sounded on his door, followed by the three men he called brothers piling into his kitchen. You emerged from the bathroom, fully dressed and a shy smile on your face. It struck Frankie that this was the first time you were meeting these guys, truly meeting them without the inclusion of alcohol.

“You’re all really excellent for helping me with this,” you said fiddling with the sleeve of your shirt. You had opted for long sleeves throughout the whole week. “Sorry you have to give up your Friday for this.”

Benny was the first one to make a move. He strode forward and enveloped you in a tight hug. Frankie could see the initial shock on your face before it was replaced by a hesitant kind of happiness.

“You like Taylor Swift?” he asked, and you nodded. Benny craned his neck to look at Frankie. “She’s riding with me, if that’s okay?” he turned back to you and you nodded again. Benny grinned and whispered something in your ear, causing you to snort out a laugh.

Santi stood beside Frankie and pressed an envelope into his hands.

“The photo,” he explained. “Again, remember I have several copies, so if you plan on destroying this one, imagine it like a hydra.” Frankie rolled his eyes and put the envelope in his back pocket. You were too busy chatting with Benny and Will to notice, and he was glad. He wanted to surprise you with the photo when you needed it.

Benny and Will had taken a particular soft spot for you since Frankie gave them the bare-bones rundown of how Kurt had treated you. Frankie noticed it now, in how Will stood like your own personal bodyguard, in how Benny had slung his arm around your shoulders, like you were old friends. Frankie felt the briefest flash of jealousy before he stamped it down. Just because he couldn’t – wouldn’t – touch you, didn’t mean no one else could.

“Quit staring Fish, you look like one of those cartoon characters whose eyes turn to hearts,” Santi muttered, elbowing Frankie in the ribs. Frankie elbowed him back, annoyed.

“Alright, gang! Let’s get this show on the road!” Will clapped his hands together. Benny raised an incredulous brow at his brother.

“What are you, fifty?” He turned to you, linking his arm through yours. “Don’t worry, Fish, I’ll drive extra carefully.”

Frankie felt envious of Benny then, even though he had basically had a week straight with you. But knowing it was coming to an end, that tonight you’d be sleeping at your own place, instead of just down the hall. Well, it made him almost sad. He pushed that aside though and forced himself to be happy for you.

As he drove to your old apartment, everyone else following behind, he focused a little too hard on the radio, just to give his mind something to do. A newsreader was talking about how a quick-thinking pilot had landed a plane in a field after something went horrifically wrong with the engines. Zero casualties, minor injuries. People were already calling for the pilot to be given a medal.

Maybe I should renew my licence, Frankie thought. He didn’t want to be a commercial pilot, or a hero of any kind, although the uniforms were nice. But it couldn’t hurt to have it.

He pulled up outside the building, gripping the steering wheel tightly. This was it.

Will and Santi parked behind him, but Benny’s ridiculously lifted pickup was nowhere to be seen. Frankie squinted towards the end of the street, knowing he couldn’t have gotten lost. He had you with him.

Ten minutes passed with no sign of you. “Where the fuck are they?” Frankie grumbled, now worried that you and Benny had gotten into a car accident. He trusted him, but Benny was the worst driver of all of them. He pulled out his phone to text you but was interrupted.

“That’s his truck,” Will said, pointing to the end of the street, where Benny’s truck had just pulled in. The sound of heavy bass reached them before the truck did. As Benny pulled up outside the apartment, Frankie recognised the song as Gimme More by Britney Spears.

“Sorry we’re late,” you called, clambering out of the truck, a tall plastic cup in your hand. “We stopped for frappes.” Benny sipped innocently at his, giving Frankie a look that said he needed to speak with him.

“Where’s my fuckin’ frappe,” Santi grumbled, looking envious. Benny grinned and handed his over to Santi for a sip.

You stood, looking up at the building, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “Guess we better go up. I sent him a text telling him I was doing this today, but he didn’t reply, so I don’t know if he’ll be here.”

“Want us to jump him if he is?” Benny offered, but you shook your head.

“Not right away,” you said, “but if he starts up maybe slap him around a little.” Frankie knew you were joking, but the look in your eyes was one of fear. He took your hand gently and lowered his head to talk to you.

“You can wait out here if you want,” he murmured, “we’ve got the list of what we need to get.” You squeezed his hand and shook your head. Yours was cold and slightly clammy in his own, but he didn’t mind.

“No, I need to do this.” You said. Frankie nodded, understanding. You didn’t need to explain the nitty gritty of your reasoning, all he needed was for you to know that you had him, in whatever way you needed.

You kept a firm grip on his hand as you lead the way upstairs to your old apartment, only letting go when you stood outside the front door, fumbling in your bag for your keys.

At first, the apartment seemed empty of life. All the lights were off, the curtains closed, and the place was eerily silent. You stepped over the threshold, followed by the rest of the boys, who immediately got to work.

As it turned out, Kurt wasn’t there. He remained gone for a good half hour while the boys carried your heavier shit down to their trucks. You set to work stuffing the rest of your clothes into plastic trash bags you had picked up from the grocery store.

Benny joined Frankie in carrying a loveseat downstairs.

“Fish, I need to tell ya,” Benny started, grunting as they made a turn. “She’s as into you as you are her.” Frankie shook his head.

“Don’t do this, man.”

“I’m being serious. I talked to her in the truck. She didn’t say it outright, but you should’a seen the look on her face when I talked about you.” Benny waggled his eyebrows. “And her friend Sara agrees, she’s ‘smitten’ with you. Whatever the fuck smitten means. If you want my advice-”

“I’m not sure I do.”

“-Go for it. Tonight, once we’re all gone. Shoot your shot my guy. Don’t waste anymore fucking time. Sara said she wasn’t even sad about the breakup, like she’s been checked out mentally for months now.”

“Wait, did Sara tell you about me punching Kurt?”

“All I’m saying is, she likes you a lot, you like her a lot, don’t waste this.” Frankie mulled over what Benny was saying. There had been more than a few moments that week when he had spied you looking at him and wondered . . . but each time he had pushed the thought out his head. Old insecurities, respect for you, held him back.

Historically, Frankie had never been very good at telling when someone was into him. He could be literally balls deep and he’d still be questioning it. Even sometimes with Portia, he’d wonder if she really felt the same way he did. Santi, who knew Frankie as a kid, chalked it up to Frankie having a rough go of puberty, not growing into his features until almost the end of high school. By then, whenever someone had showed even a slight bit of interest, Frankie had dismissed it as a cruel joke. Unfortunately, those insecurities had followed him deep into adulthood.

The mood in the apartment had become relaxed, all the heavier stuff, like your couch, TV, furniture, and fridge had been taken care of, and now all that was left was to gather all the small shit. Frankie found you in the bathroom, unscrewing the shower head. You tossed it into a box filled with other bathroom items, the loud clang making him grimace. He opened his mouth to speak to you when yelling from the front room interrupted him.

Your face fell instantly, going from focused to almost afraid. Your eyes met Frankie’s own, and he reached out to touch your arm. It’s okay the touch said, he can’t do anything to you. Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and walked out with Frankie to the commotion.

Kurt was being held back with a single hand on his chest by a bored looking Will, screaming a string of expletives and struggling to land any kind of hit on Will, Santi stood behind Kurt, ready to jump in if needed. Benny was hunched over, clutching his sides in laughter. Kurt finally caught sight of you, standing a little in front of Frankie.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?” His tone made you wince slightly, but Frankie was proud of the way you didn’t shrink away.

“I told you this was happening today, Kurtis, it was your choice to come back while we were here,” you said calmly.

“You’re taking all my shit!”

“I paid for every single thing I’m taking,” you said. “It’s not my fault you never put anything of monetary value into this place.” You stepped forward, so you were facing Kurt head on, but still behind Will. “You need to calm down, you’re acting like a fucking child.”

“I’M ACTING LIKE A CHILD?”

“Yes. You are. You’ve acted like one almost our entire relationship. So you can either calm down, leave and come back later, or my friends will force you to calm down.”

“Are you threatening me?” Kurt spat.

“Yes. You’ve already been smacked down before, any one of these guys would love to be the one to do it again.”

“I’d like to see them fucking try!” Kurt pivoted and lunged at Benny. Big mistake. With a simple, yet effective, punch to the head, Kurt was out cold on the floor. Benny looked up, almost apologetic. You grinned at him, silent laughter shaking your shoulders.

“I didn’t mean to hit that hard,” Benny said, flexing his fist. “But I also did.”

Santi dragged Kurt’s unconscious body to the now empty living room, carefully posing him so he was curled in the foetal position, sucking on his thumb.

“He actually arrived at the perfect time,” you said to Frankie, standing back beside him. “Cause we’re done here.”

“We’ve got everything?” Santi called, overhearing you. You nodded.

“We’re finally done here.”

~*~

Frankie was glad you had decided to ride with him back to your new place. You were buzzing with a new energy, unable to keep a nervous grin off your face. You didn’t speak on the drive to your new place, but Frankie hoped he wasn’t reading into how much closer you sat, your thighs almost brushing his. Benny had gotten into his head, he knew, and now he couldn’t stop thinking about the conversation.

You were the most beautiful person he had met, both inside and out, and the very idea that you could like him the way he liked you . . . well fuck, it didn’t seem feasible. But then he thought back to the previous week spent with you, and maybe it wasn’t such a ludicrous idea after all.

He pulled up at your new building, parking in the spot designated for you. You turned to him, unlatching your seatbelt as you did.

“Frankie . . .” you started, then leant over and pulled him into a tight hug. Frankie felt like everything you wanted to say was in that hug. You pulled back slightly, so your faces were almost touching. He could’ve done it then, he fucking should have done it. Crossed that miniscule amount of space between you. But then the moment passed, and you pulled away entirely.

You climbed out of the truck, moving to the back to grab some of the garbage bags that held the smaller stuff. Frankie’s phone buzzed in the cupholder, a message from Will in the group chat.

Ironhead: Pussy

Frankie turned and saw Will staring at him. Fuck offhe mouthed. Will flipped him off with a grin. The effort of getting all your stuff up to your new place was considerably easier than it had been the first time around. For one, your new place had an elevator. So even though they had to take turns using it, it was worlds above struggling up seven flights of stairs. The mood was also improved by the fact Will had knocked Kurt out cold. Frankie had begun to wonder if that had become the main highlight of your day.

It was well into the night by the time everything was in its new place. Benny and Will flopped down onto your loveseat, drinking beers that you had kept in an ice chest you had brought in yesterday just for this. You sat on the floor, drinking a fruity vodka thing that Frankie thought looked and smelt like a melted popsicle. The balcony door was open, a breeze that held the promise of summer drifted through.

“Where’s Santi?” You asked looking around.

“He had to get something from the truck,” Will said. As if on cue, which if Frankie knew these boys as well as he did, it was, Santi burst through the door, one arm stretched wide, the other behind his back.

“My dearest,” Santi began, and Frankie groaned inwardly, “over this past day, the gentlemen and I have grown quite fond of you.” What is this, regency England? Frankie rolled his eyes and took a sip of his beer. “And as such, we wanted to present you with a housewarming gift.” With that, he whipped his arm around and held out a vase of sunflowers. Your face softened, then broke into a grin.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you pushed yourself up and pulled Santi into a hug, motioning for Will and Benny to join. You hugged the three men as tight as you could, smiling at Frankie over the tops of their shoulders. Frankie smiled back, raising his beer in a silent toast.

You placed the flowers on the kitchen counter, facing them toward the window. It was just past ten when the three boys left, Benny carrying the ice chest along with the promise to bring it back as soon as he could. It seemed like it was only moments before only you and Frankie remained.

Frankie’s phone buzzed.

Benny: Don’t fuck this up.

Frankie saw you move outside onto the balcony, leaning against the railing, silhouetted by silver moonlight, your face turned towards the breeze that coasted off the lake. Everyone else was gone, and he wondered if he didn’t take this chance, would he ever?

He moved to stand next to you, standing so close your arms were touching. His heart felt like it was caught in his throat. He murmured your name.

“Frankie,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of his beating heart. Before he could stop himself, chicken out like he had before, he closed the distance between you. One hand cupping your warm cheek, the other encircling your waist, he tilted his head down until his lips met yours.

It was everything.

Your lips were soft against his, hesitant at first, but then you were wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing your body against his. You tasted like candy and those sugary drinks you insisted on bringing. Your touch was like tiny jolts of electricity shooting down his spine.

Fuck.

His tongue darted against your bottom lip, and you let him in almost hungrily. Frankie deepened the kiss, wondering just why the everloving fuck he waited this long.

He whispered your name, the word like poetry on his lips. You were poetry, you were art, you were every beautiful thing wrapped up into one person. He was in love with you.

Taglist: @hnt-escape @sharkbait77 @1800-fight-me @annathewitch @darnitdraco @frankiecatfish @punkerthanpascal @nakhudanyx @gracie7209 @quica-quica-quica @pintsizemama @phoenix-of-loki @procrastinationstationnation

[bebepac]

The Double Date Mistake?

I am participating in @wackydrabbles​ prompt # 92 “I don’t think that was meant to go there.” will appear in bold.

This is also chapter 2 of The Meet:  To catch up on what you’ve been missing of the Meet so far Please click:  The Meet Masterlist

Original Post Date: 05/01/2021 at 3:15PM

The Book:  TRR

The Pairing:  Liam x F!OC (Liam x Jilian) 

Word Count: 1948

Summary: Jilian goes on a double date with Bebe and meets Leo for the very first time.  Jilian and Bebe share how they first met each other to the guys.  

Warnings: Sexual innuendos.  Profanity.  

Leo and Liam belong to pixelberry, Jilian belongs to @queenjilian borrowed for the duration of this series. All others are my own to help us tell the story.  

“And done. He has your number now Jili. Now fly my little birdies fly.”  

She thought he would text right away but he didn’t.  The whole way to Bebe’s apartment the twenty minute drive Jili’s phone was silent.

Bebe looked at Jili as she glanced at her phone.  What the actual hell?

She texted Jilian.

“Bebe why the hell are you texting me? I’m sitting right next to you?”

“I was just making sure your phone was on.”  

“I mean he’s still working Bebe.  He can’t just drop everything and just start texting away.”

“The hell he can’t. What in the actual fuck is wrong with you bruh?” Bebe grumbled as she angrily typed on her phone.

“Wing Woman are you trying to crash this plane?”

“The mother  hasn’t even taken off yet with you two trying to pilot it. I’m gonna need you to get your life together Jili.”  

The driver pulled to a stop. “Damn I really wanted to see how this turned out.”

Bebe got out of the car in a huff.

“I’ll let you know.”   Jili called out the window to her.

Jilian wasn’t going to let it stress her out.  He was still at work. She knew her job got busy at times, and she couldn’t just sit on her phone and do nothing.  As she was walking up the stairs to scan her door key fob, the phone rang.

It was a local number she didn’t recognize.

“Hello?”

“Jilian. It’s Liam.”

“Hi Liam.”

“I apologize for not texting or calling sooner.  Things got busy at work.”

“Oh I figured that was what happened.”  

"Bebe is something else. I feel a little attacked. I can tell it's from a place of love though."

"She's my best friend Liam. My true sister from another mister."

"So it's safe to assume you are single?" Liam inquired.

"I am, and for you the same?"

"Yes Jilian I am. Is it forward of me to say maybe we can change that for each other. I would really like to see you again. I'm off next Friday would you be free then?"

Jilian sighed.

"Friday is my date night."

"Oh. I just assumed you being single you weren’t seeing anybody even casually."

"With Bebe. We restaurant hop. We're self proclaimed foodies. 

Do you have any friends maybe we could double?”

“My brother, both him and Bebe have big personalities, I think they’d really get along.  Think she would be okay with that?”

“Yeah I think I could convince her.”  

They continued to talk, and about everything under the sun.  Liam was funny and witty and kept her attention.

She began to realize how much she had in common with the charming Liam Rys.  

She had cuddled into her bed under her covers laughing and chatting with him.  She finally rolled over realizing it was almost dawn.

“Oh my God! Is that the sun?!?!?!” she shrieked, surprised into the phone.

“I’m so sorry Jilian I completely lost track of time.”

“I have to go, I have to be at work in forty five minutes!!!”

Jilian said her goodbyes to Liam and hurried to work.  

Right when Jilian was sitting in her office reading over her chart  for her first patient’s checkup, there was a delivery.  

A large coffee drink had been delivered to her with a sweet gooey cinnamon bun.

“Gift for you Jilian Winchester.”  

Liam was really sweet.

She texted him thank you.

He had let her know he had an extra espresso shot added to her coffee.

Liam was a lifesaver.  

*^*^*^*^* The Double Date *^**^*^*^*

When Jili and Bebe got to the restaurant  Liam and Leo were already seated at the table both stood to greet them.  

Liam softly kissed  Jili’s cheek.  

Bebe glanced at Leo.  He was cute, but he was probably about five inches shorter than Bebe, not to mention Bebe was wearing heels making her tower over Leo.

Liam changed the subject breaking the ice between everyone, and the conversation between the couples started flowing.  

Jilian slipped in the subject of Liam and Leo honestly not looking much like each other.  

“We’re half brothers, we have different mothers. But don’t get it twisted Bebe.  I can scale you like Mount Everest. Taller women don’t intimidate me one bit.”

“Um….thank you for that blatant honesty…. Jili will you accompany me to the restroom please?”  

“Excuse us for a moment.”  Jili smiled politely.  

“Absolutely not Jili!!!!!”  Bebe was adamant when the door to the bathroom closed.  

“Bebe I didn’t know!  I swear when he said older brother, I was thinking he looked like him.  You would think older brothers are taller, bigger, and wiser. He is funny though.  You two do have similar personalities. Maybe try to focus on that Bee.  Let’s just try to have a fun time.  You don’t have to see Leo again.  But I know I want to see Liam again. I like him.”  

“You owe me big for this!!!”

Both women come back to the table.  Their drink orders had arrived.  Bebe takes a long sip on her drink.  

“That’s what I’m talking about!”  Leo smiled.  “A girl after my own heart.”  

“How did you and Bebe meet Jilian?”  

“We actually met in NOLA. We were both presenting at a medical conference.  Bebe for the Pharma side, because she’s a pharmacist,  and me for medical for being a nurse practitioner focused in the at risk population.”

Leo eyes flit to Bebe.

“So you’re a drug dealer?”  

Bebe smiled.  “ Legal Drug Dealer. Yep, that’s what I call myself. I’m slinging pills to pay the bills.”  

“I can dig it.”  

“We met the night before our conference began, in a bar.”  

When Jilian walked into the bar she noticed her right away.  There was a woman at the bar,  drinking her drink telling what appeared to be a funny story that had multiple people’s attention.  All were laughing with her.   She had to be a local. Jili thought.  

She had strings of beads around her neck.  

“What can I get ya?”  the bartender asked.  

She looked at Bebe.  “I want whatever she’s having.”  Bebe was the life of the party.  

“Well I did a little pre-gaming at the drive through daiquiri shop though. 

But mostly Hurricanes.  Get her a Hurricane Sal.”  

The bartender winked at Bebe.  

“Don’t skimp on the good stuff either!”  She yelled out.

Jilian’s eyes widened when the bartender  brought her the drink.

Bebe held up her glass to clink with Jilian’s glass.

“Laissez le bon temps rouler!!!!!”   The crowd screamed in agreement at Bebe’s declaration.

“What?”  

“LET THE GOOD TIMES ROLL!!!!!”  

Jilian took a long drink of the cocktail.  No wonder.  

“Yep! You like it.  I’m Bebe, what’s your name?”

“Jilian.”  

“I’m gonna call you Jili.  What brings you to NOLA?”  

“Work, a conference.”  

“Bleh you said the “W.” word.  That’s not existing in my life right now.  We’re here, we’re alive, no regrets Jili.  Let your hair down and enjoy yourself.  I mean literally.  That bun is a buzz kill.”  

Jili pulled the pins out of her hair shaking out her locks.  

“So much better!!!! You’re a babe!!!  See they’re already looking at you differently.  We’re not interested though.  Unless they’re buying more drinks.”  

Jili glanced at the guys that were now looking in her direction.  

“You’ve got a lot of bead necklaces going on.”   Jili commented.  

“There are two ways to get beads in NOLA.  Buy them or earn them.”

Jili looked at Bebe and raised her eyebrow with a smile.

“Let me guess, your ass hasn’t spent a dime tonight.”  

Bebe took a long sip of her hurricane.  

“Nope.  Not a single dime.  Including alcohol.  I'll tell you what Jili.  Life’s too short.  I’m not going to regret any of my choices.  I spent a year in Costa Rica, living my life Pura Vida.”

“Pure Life.”  Jilian smiled.  Bebe was a carefree spirit, and people gravitated to her.

“We’re only here for a blink Jili.  How do you want your story to be told?”

She decided to throw caution to the wind and party the night away with Bebe.

Jilian’s alarm went off the next morning.  She was incredibly hung over as she tried to pull herself together.  

She had a random memory of her and Bebe walking down  Bourbon Street singing “Lean on Me”  while they were linked arm and arm.  The drunk leading the more drunk back to the hotel.

She smiled, straightening her black business suit.  She was about to pull her hair up into her signature bun but decided to let her tresses fall free instead.  

As she was getting checked into the convention she slipped her ID badge and program of speakers, herself among the list.  

She heard her laugh.  Jili whipped her head around and saw Bebe at the back of the line with two others.  Bebe was wearing a bright pink business suit, and her shoes and clutch had the print of medications on it.  

“The legal drug dealers have arrived!!!! Big Pharma in da house!!!!!!”  

Jili laughed, shaking her head.  

“That’s how we met Liam.”  

“We found out later we lived near each other, and made plans to meet up.  Been friends ever since.  That was like six years ago.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t ask us how we met.”  Leo asked.

“I assume you are brothers…. You met… at birth?”

Bebe shook her head at Leo.

Everyone was calm after not to mention the alcohol free flowing.  They headed to  a lounge after dinner, called Blue Notes.  The music there was full of soul and blues.  

The drinks continued. The music there stirred the soul.  

“May I have this dance?”  Jili nodded, taking Liam’s hand.   He held her close.  

Leo eyed Bebe.   “You know, I have always been one to have a huge case of FOMO.  So you and me let’s hit the dance floor too.”  

Bebe downed her drink in one swallow.  “Why the hell not.”  

They walked out to the dance floor.  With Bebe’s high heels Leo was chest level to her.  He pulled her close resting his head on her bosom.

“Um….so we’re doing this… okay…”  Bebe looked surprised but she was smiling.

Liam laughed softly when he glanced in their direction.

“I don’t think that was meant to go there.”  

“The height difference honestly never crossed my mind Jilian.  Things seemed really awkward for them for a bit, for more so Bebe.  Not so awkward now.”  

Bebe and Leo were looking at each other laughing.

“You know this is never going to happen Leo Rys.”  

“A man can dream.  Well….It could happen for the night.  I can tell you’re curious. Let me tickle your fancy tonight.”

Bebe laughed harder at him.  “You don’t give up do you Leo?”

“Nope because I get what I want.”    

“If nothing else Jilian, I think they will at least be friends from this, if nothing romantic happens.”

The next morning Liam was cooking  breakfast when Bebe walked out of Leo’s room. Leo’s sweatpants looked like capris on Bebe.  

“Good Morning Bebe. Would you like some breakfast?”  

“Sure.”

Leo walked out of the room a few minutes later.  

Liam smiled looking at the two of them.  

“Breakfast Leo?”  

“I already ate.”  Leo winked at Bebe.

Bebe choked on her orange juice.  

“Oh you were talking about bacon and eggs, sure.”  

Nope not at all awkward at all.  Liam thought as he fixed plates for himself Leo and Bebe.

Bebe was climbing in her ride share when her phone rang.

“Bebe… Liam just told me you had breakfast with him and Leo… at his apartment.  You spent the night with Leo?”  

“Leo was right, Jili.  Not all of him is fun sized.”

Tags in the comments !!!! 

[neonponders]

Oh lord, here we go. Don’t be surprised if my sugardaddy!Billy and couture Steve turns into five parts orz for now, here’s part 3!

This is originally a birthday gift for @lazybakerart 💋and @edith-moonshadow enabled me to keep going with this with their Harringrove for Palestine donation🙏🏻.

Part 1 here ~ Part 2 here ~ read on ao3 ~

🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹

A week passed.

Billy didn’t leave a number for Steve to call, and when he tried to phone Billy’s secretary, she gave him a bullshit lie about international calls needing to occur within a certain timeframe, etc. Steve understood he was butting into Billy’s goings-on, during an hour he couldn’t play civilian.

That was another aspect of their relationship they kept dodging.

Steve did not consider white-collar crime unfamiliar. In fact, it’s wildly rampant in society; it just takes the right lawyers and judges to keep things swept under the rug.

Maybe Billy didn’t talk about it for the same reason Steve didn’t open up about his fears of being disposable. When they managed a safe little time capsule where underlying circumstances didn’t exist, things went great. Splendid, even.

But time capsules have to open at some point.

Billy called Steve.

“Hello?” he said to the unfamiliar number. If he sounded a little miffed, it’s because he’d taken more spam calls than genuine correspondences this past week, having not known what Billy’s international number was—

“Steve.”

That sounded…wrong.

“Billy?”

He could hear the man’s breath on the receiver. Heavier than it should have been. “I know you don’t like this. But I need you to come here.”

“What happened? Are you okay?”

Stupid question. Billy sounded half the man he was. Steve wanted to know what happened to the other half.

“I’m injured. I’ll be fine—”

“Define ‘injured.’”

“Steve,” Billy huffed like a laugh, but Steve could hear it stick in his throat. He hovered in the middle of his apartment, helpless to do anything but hold the phone to his ear. “I’m not arguing right now. Could you just…get in the car that comes to pick you up?”

“A car? What kind of car?”

“The driver will use the buzzer of your building. They won’t come up. Just get in the car and then the plane—”

“Plane? Billy, where did you go?”

He laughed again, a little of his voice leaking into it. “Steve, please. Can I see you or not?”

Steve croaked into the receiver, revolving listlessly in his apartment while his brain failed to keep up. “I-I—wha—um.”

Except, despite everything, like how very likely he would come back to only one or no jobs, it really wasn’t a choice for Steve. His chest ached for Billy. He missed the bastard’s smug smiles and longed for the animation he let fill his face when he relaxed with Steve.

And he felt the itch of being wanted. His ingrained eagerness to be with the person who needed him.

All of it scrambled in his brain so Steve wound up raising his voice while fisting his hair, “A plane? I have to pack! What do I pack?”

Billy’s voice came out breathily on the phone, like he filled it with relief. “You don’t need to pack anything—”

“I NEED PANTS, BILLY!”

Steve got in the car.

Steve got on the plane.

The stupid private jet in which Steve could have his own disco if he wanted because it seemed like only he and the pilot were on the damn thing. He brought the book Billy had gifted him about The New Yorker for something to distract himself, even though he mostly stared blankly at the pages while he waited for the plane to land.

A part of him expected to arrive in the middle of nowhere. Which, to be fair, they had to land in a private hanger outside of the city. But then the next car took him amongst grand buildings and turned into a narrow side street only residents would use. Steve burst upon the sidewalk, only hindered briefly by the receiving of a hotel key and the remark, “Room 532.”

Steve skipped the elevator. He wore heels in his spare time; he would’ve beaten the lift anyway.

As with any hotel, the key took some figuring out, but when he managed, he stepped into the suite. “Billy?”

It smelled like any other nice hotel. Cream carpets and matching walls. A splash of color on the rumpled bedspread amongst Billy’s clutter. Steve followed the floor plan of the sitting room to the bedroom and then the bathroom, where he heard the shower running. He knocked on the door, “Billy?”

And then louder, “Billy?”

“Come in.”

Steve carefully pushed into the room, unsure what he’d find…

What looked like two open first aid kits sat on the counter. Steve couldn’t read anything from those alone, but he didn’t have to because the shower was a large, glass cubicle. It stood big enough for four people. Billy sat on the floor, his chest wrapped in sodden cotton and gauze; barefoot underneath his black slacks. Steve opened the glass door as Billy lifted his head—

He knelt on the hard tiles, putting his arms around Billy’s neck to greet him, to hold him. Cool tendrils seeped through Steve’s hair, soft claws over his scalp until the water properly soaked his strands.

“Steve, your clothes.”

Instead of answering, he looked at the shower knobs and turned the hot water up. As soon as heat seeped over them, Billy melted against him. His head fell easily where Steve pulled him into the bend of his neck. Billy’s hands fumbled a little to find him, but all he could do was grasp onto him to avoid bending or twisting his injured torso.

Steve remained kneeling over him long past being soaked through.

He did not cry until Steve undressed, leaving his sodden raiment on the shower floor to retrieve the scissors from the first aid kits. He carefully snipped through the ruined gauze and medical tape. Soon a pile of white, and diluted pinkish-orange blood also sat on the floor. Whoever had stitched up Billy’s sides had done a good job, but Steve had to dry him off and rebind him.

After the first wince, Billy came undone. Steve wished he could say something to make it easier, but all he had were small reassurances and quietly given orders.

“Can you hold this here?”

“Lift your arm up.”

“Hang on. Almost done.”

An odd talent of Steve’s: tolerating pain with silent grace. A skill which Billy ironically lacked. But where Steve withheld, Billy knew how to release. Perhaps here was one of their bridges.

“Put your arm around me. Lift with your legs.”

The towels Steve put over their shoulders helped them grip one another. Once standing, Billy halted, “Wait. Take these off.”

To each of their credit, neither made a joke as Billy’s trousers and underwear landed with a wet slosh next to Steve’s pile. Steve wrapped his towel around his waist once Billy sat on the bed. With his hands freed, he went about drying Billy’s hair with his towel and opening the bed for Billy to fall into.

“Have you taken any meds?”

“Nothing spectacular.”

His head sagged on the pillow, following Steve to the bathroom, where he found an ibuprofen bottle and shook out two tablets. His eyes followed Steve’s hand raking his hair off his face, and the movement of his throat around a swallow. The filling of a glass at one of the sinks.

Billy let him wrangle a pillow underneath his body so he could swallow the pills with ease. Before he did so, Billy informed, “The blue pill bottle is sleeping meds.”

Steve went and read the label, even peeling the thing off to read the lengthy underside. “When did you last eat?”

“I’ll eat tomorrow. I need to rest now.”

But Steve went into the living room and pilfered through the mini fridge. He returned with apple juice and a granola bar. “If you take this on an empty stomach, you might vomit. I’m not letting you suffocate in your sleep.”

“They put that on there to avoid lawsuits,” Billy complained even while he accepted the juice bottle. He munched slowly, almost carefully on the sugar-glazed nuts of the granola bar while…

Steve got dressed. In Billy’s clothes.

He crouched right in between Billy’s suitcase and the open wardrobe to select one of his long-sleeves and boxer briefs. Billy blinked softly, feeling warmth blossom through his chest and sink through his belly.

Regardless, he sassed, “You’re not gonna sleep naked with me?”

Steve climbed next to him, facing him as if he intended to get up again soon. He tore into his own granola bar. “I don’t know what to expect with you. I’d rather not be forced out of the building naked.”

Billy’s hand touched his leg as he bit into the bar. “Nothing’s going to happen. There’s a menu on the table out there. Order room service.”

“Tomorrow,” Steve refused with a cheek full of almonds. “We’ll eat tomorrow. Or…when the sun’s up in two hours.”

Billy didn’t ask him to, but Steve stroked fingers through his hair after Billy took his sleeping medicine. “Don’t leave,” he moaned tiredly, the force of the little pill dragging him under.

“I’m not leaving. But you can’t octopus me in your sleep.”

Billy sighed, intending for more words to come out than the ones that did. “…test me…”

When his breaths came and went like the heavy sway of the ocean, Steve kept petting through his hair. Even though Billy couldn’t hear him anymore, Steve sighed, “Scared the shit out of me, idiot. I missed you. Don’t do that.”

Billy hummed in his sleep as if he heard him. Even drugged unconscious, the man tried to retort.

Steve leaned down to kiss his temple and tucked him in to keep him warm. When a knock on the door sounded, Steve donned one of the bathrobes and held a shoehorn behind the door as he answered. The shoehorn was a ridiculous ornate thing from the wardrobe; more like a walking stick than a device to help a heel slip into a boot.

The woman on the other side of the door dressed as expensively as Billy and appeared just as austere. Steve had never seen her before even though she acted like she knew him. “Is he well?”

“He’s asleep. What do you need?”

“To go over his intended schedule for today.”

“Reschedule it. He isn’t doing anything for at least two days.”

She did not look anxious. Merely…disappointed? “That will be…difficult.”

“He’s a difficult man,” Steve sighed, his posture tilting back into the room and warranting an end to this discussion. “Whoever expects to see him likely knows that.”

“Good morning, Mr. Harrington,” she dismissed.

“What is your name?” he halted.

“Elena Varma. Hargrove knows me as Elicit Vagina.”

Steve’s jaw went slack, and if she were anyone other than Billy’s secretary and personal guard, now would be the time to take his head off. Instead, she elaborated, “I’m a lesbian.”

“Right,” he nodded dazedly. “Are you single? I know somebody.”

Her dark eyes narrowed at him, but her mouth and brows moved with amusement. Like a test, she inquired, “Are they butch?”

“No,” he said a bit perplexedly, thinking of Robin’s amber blond bob and all of her many-colored Converse on which she doodled.

A pause. Then, “Does she have bad taste?”

“Yes.”

“Good. We’ll be in touch.”

Steve exhaled, “Great,” under his breath as he shut the door. Crossing over to the living room, he set the shoehorn down and picked up the room service menu.

When Billy’s eyes next opened, it was to the beckoning of dishware clatter and summons of browned butter and tangy, aromatic cheese.

Steve sat much as he last remembered, sitting facing Billy while a tray sat where his pillows ought to be. A cart of more food stood by the food of the bed. Billy’s blurry gaze traveled back to Steve, who chewed on a croissant with a newspaper, of all things, in his hand.

It was perfect.

Minus the abhorrent headache and parchedness of his throat.

“Coffee.”

Billy couldn’t not smile at the wide eyes that lifted up to him. Steve rushed to swallow the lump in his cheek and handed him his glass of water from the tray. Billy shook his head. “No. Coffee.”

“Water first.”

Billy sighed and leaned over as much as his injured side allowed him to. He drained the glass. And he never got his coffee. Steve made him drink a strong cup of tea, as if that would replace Billy’s usual espresso in the morning.

“Your, um, personal assistant came by. She knows to reschedule all of your—whatever you do. I said you need two days.”

“Two days?” Billy chirped in the middle of grumbling over his tea. “That’s a vacation.”

Steve huffed a sound, but looked toward the window and it’s sheer, white curtains. “What street are we on?”

“What was that sound?” Billy diverted.

Steve looked at him. “What sound?”

“The sound you just made.”

“You mean the sound of you complaining that I work too much but consider two days a vacation. That sound?”

“Yeah, that sound,” he remarked. “I stand by what I said. You don’t need two jobs.”

“Billy, you got stabbed yesterday. Twice. Or whatever the hell happened to you.”

“I’ll have you know I was only stabbed once. The side mirror of a moving car clipped my other side.”

Whatever mirth he intended to be in that statement wilted in the face of Steve’s glare. Billy took the silent admonishment with grace and, after a moment, said, “I’m not the criminal you think I am.”

“I never said you were one.”

“Walking around with a stab wound and clear assault damage isn’t helping my case,” he responded with another unhappy sip of his tea. At least Steve put milk and sugar in it. Dessert for breakfast.

“Long story short: I got a job and the old man CEO noticed me. He liked me a lot. I was the one male secretary in the place; it was easy to notice me. The women liked me—”

“Women have always liked you,” Steve retorted quietly. But he set his things on the tray and laid across the bed to pillow his head on Billy’s thigh.

He gazed up at him while Billy continued, “It was easy. If the head of a building likes you, job promotions come fast. Training happens in the boss’s own office. Then the asshole died and both his heir, and the board, did not take it well to my name being in the will. I’ve been cleaning up a lot of their mess.”

Steve listened and processed, “This heir was driving the car?”

Billy snorted and instantly grimaced for the pain it caused him. Steve began to get up for the painkillers, but Billy’s fingers plunged into his hair; not gripping him, but softly holding his head. “Stay. I’m fine. No, I doubt the idiot even has a license. He can’t aim a blade, either. He’s running out of money, that’s why he’s so desperate.”

“Where is he now?”

Billy’s head tilted almost piteously at him. “Do you really want to know that?”

“Well I can’t decide which is more romantic: inviting me into a shit storm, or making sure I’m safe first.”

He could see some of the tension leave Billy’s face and shoulders as he reached for Steve’s tray and took his other croissant. “He’s in the hospital. But I don’t know if he’ll make it.”

Steve could read between the lines. “Us trust fund kids. We’re not built for street fighting.”

That earned an animated frown from Billy, who spoke regardless of his full mouth. “You gave me a hell of a wallop once.”

“I lost that fight.”

“You didn’t have a homophobic, retired veteran waiting for you to bring your sister home. And this guy clearly doesn’t have a pretty boy waiting for him or he might’ve won.”

Steve laughed but it faded as he just…marveled at Billy. They had never talked this openly before. However proud of Billy he felt, though, the nagging dark corner of his brain turned his thoughts onto himself. He let slip:

“You work so much harder than me.”

Billy immediately wasn’t having it. His head tilted again but instead of pity, it was chastisement. “Steve.”

“No, no—I just mean I’m proud of you.”

“You can be proud of me without sounding like I’m about to toss you out onto the curb. I just told you the very idea of you helped keep me alive.”

“And I abandoned two jobs and an overpriced apartment to be here, so I hope you mean it. You might be keeping both of us alive for a while—Hey.”

In between thrown bits of croissant and grapes, Billy chided, “I’ve been. Trying. To convince you. That I mean it. And it takes a drive-by to. Get. Your. Attention.”

“Okay! Okay—this is disgusting. Stop it!”

Steve reared up only to be ensnared by Billy’s overstretched arms. Steve caught himself on Billy’s collarbones so he did not press on his chest, tugging the skin on his sides. “B! Be careful.”

A hand cradled the side of Steve’s head as a soft smirk lifted Billy’s mouth. “Let me kiss you.”

Steve, defiant till the last, pushed him down so he didn’t exert himself. Then he kissed Billy slowly, reverently. He liked kissing Billy a whole lot. Loved it. He liked Billy’s taste and the sound of their lips parting before meeting for more. He liked the puffs of Billy’s breath across his cheek and his hands reaching for Steve. Finding him. Holding him.

Eventually, though, Billy whispered against his lips, “Why did you ask what street we’re on?”

Steve rolled his lips together, perhaps seeking a balm for being chapped from kissing, or nerves. “It’s fashion week. We might be able to see stuff from the window.”

Billy claimed one more kiss and then released him to clean up the bed and scout the street below. Billy managed to reach the bathroom on his own, where he took another pair of meds and readied for a day in. With Steve.

Steve, who insisted he stay in bed.

Steve, who found a full-length mirror in the wardrobe and held it half out the window so Billy could see the horizon of the street reflected from his place on the bed. He watched Steve more than anything. His giggles at how ridiculous it was to hold a mirror out the window. When his features relaxed as he watched the traffic and people arriving to a place a few blocks down. When he asked Billy if

“Can you see the red coat? That thing’s massive.”

And, “Somebody famous just got there. The paparazzi are going nuts.”

Steve really should have expected the events of the next day, but Billy still faced the stern glare and long blinks when he sighed. “B, you’ve only rested a day. Your stitches could still tear.”

“One runway isn’t going to kill me. We’ll pop in and not attend the after party. Elicit’s already managed to get tickets—”

“Her name’s Elena,” Steve frowned with his hands on his hips.

“No, it isn’t,” Billy scoffed, and went to dissect Steve’s luggage himself...

He grasped the linen shoe bag, recognizing the shape inside. He lifted one of the Hot Chick 100s. “You took packing seriously, huh?”

Steve seemed to be really grappling with patience. “I didn’t know what you needed. A nurse or a kinky leg to hold onto.”

“So I got both,” he grinned.

A reluctant, little smile pulled at Steve’s face. “I’m not wearing those out.”

Billy had already set the pair on the living room table when he grimaced, “What? Why not?”

Steve glanced at the windows like they might hold an answer. “Because I’ll be giant and make more noise than anyone else in heels.”

Billy wasn’t buying it. He held onto the back of the couch to help himself stand and then made his way to his own clothes. “If there’s any time to wear what you want and get away with it, it’s fashion week. Come here, no one’s going to let you wear jeans beside a runway.”

Billy had way too much fun dressing him. A quiet little warning bell went off in Steve’s head over this, but he couldn’t listen to it without also admitting that he enjoyed himself. One of Billy’s silk button-ups around his body felt nice.

Intimate.

A black suit jacket over it made Steve feel chic and professional. And when Billy asked him to lift his foot onto the bed, Billy double wrapped the chain of his pendant around Steve’s ankle. Amber and opals on one side, and a golden saint on the other.

“If you’re tired or hurt at any point, tell me,” Steve lectured in the car.

“Yes, dear.”

“I mean it,” he insisted, but Billy’s hand on his thigh tightened.

“I know, baby. I’m okay. The show’s not even two hours long. Try to relax. You look real hot.”

Steve snorted and rubbed the silk of his shirt between his fingers. “Is this shirt new?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“I’ve never seen you wear it. And it would’ve matched my green shoes,” he added with slanted eyes at him.

“So what if I wanted to match my partner? Try and sue me.”

Partner. Steve caught his face in his hand, eyes aching with the moisture overflowing from his heart.

The car pulled up alongside a bustling street. Elena Varma accompanied them through the open double doors, but she kept to herself. She sheltered Billy’s other side while Steve slid an arm over Billy’s shoulders and held onto him. If a pair of eyes scrutinized them, Billy was hardly the only rich man with a pretty thing in heels on his arm. And people only had compliments for Steve’s classic choice in shoe.

The off-duty models sitting around them in the chairs along the runway were very sweet. Steve and Billy kindly refused their inquiries over attending the later afternoon events, but gratefully accepted their information about the show.

Models talk. And in this world where everyone knows someone who knows everyone, the models explained the architecture of the runway, the designer’s vision, the gossip about the model opening the show, and the model closing the show, etc.

“I like the butterflies,” Steve said, pointing to the ceiling, where a myriad of paper butterflies on wires fluttered with the air conditioning ventilation.

“I like you.”

Steve pointed flustered but narrowed eyes on him. “Are you even paying attention?”

“To the important things,” Billy replied, leaning back with an arm over the back of Steve’s chair. He did contribute, “I like the columns. The effect of the eroded marble and gold filigree is interesting. I enjoy looking at it.”

Steve leaned into him, resting a hand on Billy’s thigh as the lighting changed and the show began. The fashion proved largely sculptural instead of practical, but Steve pointed as models went by.

“My mom would know what that means.”

“If the designer was inspired by Greece, then it’s something mythological. Greece seems to be very in right now.”

“You read my magazines,” Steve accused with a smile.

“I smell the colognes.”

That earned Billy a soft nudge before Steve’s jaw relaxed in sight of a male model striding past them. “You’d look really good in that.”

“The gold speedo?”

“No,” he lightly slapped Billy’s knee. “The shirt.”

“I don’t really go for pastels.”

Steve turned soft eyes on him. He touched the underside of Billy’s chin with a fond knuckle. “You and your jewel tones.”

Then a model turned onto the stage wearing a sweatshirt totally encrusted with jewels. Steve and Billy exchanged looks, which ended with Steve covering his laughter and Billy pressing his face into Steve’s shoulder.

Steve and Billy left the show with at least one pocket full of models’ agents’ business cards. Steve had taken the time to write the models’ names on each card along with a descriptor, as if they actually intended to remember and reach out to them later that night, should their plans change.

Their plan did not change.

If anything, Steve and Billy only more firmly wanted to retire to their hotel room after they ordered coffees—and Steve nearly broke his ankle stepping off the pavement.

“The puddle lied! The water lied to me,” he lamented through laughter, having thought that the water was far shallower than it actually proved to be. He powered through their venture in the coffee shop, but as soon as they were in the car, Billy pulled his leg up to inspect his ankle and Steve held up one of the shoes.

“Holy shit. Look at that.” The flat of the heel now had a harsh angle to it, as if he’d worn these shoes for a decade instead of thrown off his stride by a waterlogged pothole. Both shoes had water and grit on the insides too.

“I’m sorry, B. These might need some work—Oo!”

Billy had touched his ice coffee to Steve’s ankle. “Don’t worry about it. Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah,” he said on a lighter note. “The ladies we sat with were really nice.”

“What about the show?”

That gave Steve pause. “Um. Honestly? They all walked too fast for me to really see much.”

Billy laughed so hard his stitches made him stop.

[lightskinrry]

no wedding for the bad boys

The one where the bachelor’s party doesn’t go according to the plan

A/N: hello cuties,,, after not writing for a while im back with some angsty shit!!!! i hope you guys like it and don’t hesitate to share your thoughts with me about this mess!!

Word Count: 5k

TW: a loooooot of alcohol; gambling and ANGST.

One of the things you liked so much about being the single friend was that you were always the one to keep the party alive. And now you were about to birth the best party of all times. Your best friend was getting married in two weeks and you were in charge of the bachelor’s party.

And with great power comes great responsibility, you had to plan everything and keep it a surprise. And if there was one thing you sucked at; it was keeping secrets, especially from Harry. He always had his way with you; it was hard keeping anything from him.

You couldn’t quite believe he was getting married. You watched him grow from a horny teenager to a beautiful and inspiring man. You saw him give his first concert in his mom’s living room and then watched him sold out arenas around the world.

You gave him his first kiss and helped him cheat his math tests and now you were his best-woman at his wedding. You helped him break up with his exes, held him while he cried, bringing him tequila and ice cream on bad days, making him laugh once the tears dried away. And he always did the same for you. And now you were gonna be by his side like you’ve always been on the most beautiful day of his life.

You had your little reluctance towards his future spouse. She was a beautiful and independent woman but you felt like you couldn’t see through her. Maybe because she entered into your lives not so long ago and you needed more time to get her. You could tell she didn’t like you much, anyway.

They’ve been together for less than a year and Harry “commitment issues” Styles proposed to her, to everybody’s surprise; even his own.

His mom tried to tell him that he had to be sure before pulling out such a great move. But he was so infatuated, it was too beautiful to bring him back to reality.

You didn’t want to interfere anyway so when he told you, despite your surprise and little bitterness; you supported him like a good friend.

He seemed so happy and into her, you didn’t want to let him know you didn’t trust his future wife or that to you all of this seemed premature. You also didn’t want your own feelings to balance his.

Anyway, you started planning the party ahead of time and everything was going rather well. Miss (future) Styles gave you some instructions and rules to follow regarding the party because Harry said you could do anything you wanted except if she wasn’t okay with it. So no strippers, no hookers, no clowns. Who would even bring a clown to a bachelor party? Well it seemed she didn’t want that anyway. She also said not too much alcohol and no drugs. She could’ve just tell you to cancel the party at that extent. But you had to give in to her commands...

Looked like you were about to organize a tea party for elderly people… Literally, bring out the cucumber sandwiches and put milk in your tea like these old rich british dudes.

You had to find a way to make a real bachelor party. Something huge and iconic; something legendary. You planned on giving Harry a Barney’s worthy type of party.

You thought about every outcomes that could make his future wife freak out. So you decided instead of staying too close to her, why not make a spontaneous move.

You met with the groomsmen and basically all yours and Harry’s friends that would be attending the party to make sure everyone was in with the plan and obviously said nothing to Harry.

You kept the secret until d-day.

You were waiting for him, wearing your red suit, in the lobby. “Harry, we’re leaving now, man. If you’re not out that door in 2, we’ll celebrate your party without you.”

He rushed through the hallway. “I’m right here. Ready to party like I’m already seventy.”

You told him about his bride-to-be restrictions concerning the party so he didn’t expect anything crazy. “No worries, baby. You still look young.”

It was a short ride to his favorite restaurant. You were driving, screaming-singing the lyrics to Got To Be Real and he was singing with you, taking breaks in his track to laugh with you. You parked in his usual spot and walked through the door, all your friends already sitting at the table, cheering when they saw the two of you walking in.

“Ah! Here he is! The man of the night!” Jeff stood to welcome Harry to the table.

You both took a sit and order a few drinks.

The evening went fast, you had great dinner, shared cuban cigars, good alcohol and had the best chocolate cake. Everything was moderate just like Tania asked; a fancy dinner in a fancy restaurant, not too much alcohol and nobody blacked out.... yet.

Harry stood, raising his glass to make a toast. “Thank you guys so much for tonight. I know we wanted to throw a rock’n’roll party…” He gave you a sly look. “But I appreciate that you took the time and care to give me a real grownup bachelor party.” He laughed a little. “I love you guys. I feel so lucky to have friends like you. So supportive and thoughtful. Thank you.”

All of you cheered on him. And one by one all of your friends left, claiming to be going home to their spouses. You and Harry were the last one to leave the restaurant. You stood next to the car, as Harry thanked the staff, waiting for him to come to you.

“So… I have a little surprise for you.” You gave him a sneaky smile.

“Oh god, this cannot be good.”

You smiled and pulled out a blindfold out of your pocket. He shook his head. “No. No. No. That doesn’t look good at all.”

You giggled and insisted. “C’mon. It’s your bachelor party. I promise it’s going to be fun but not too much.” You smiled. “Do you trust me?”

He sighed loudly… “Fine, Y/N. You better not throw me in the back of a truck or some kidnapping bullshit like that.”

You scoffed. “No worries.”

He closed his eyes and you put yourself behind him, placed the blindfold on his face and smiled contentedly. “Good. Now just follow me, baby. I got big plans for you.”

He laughed nervously and turned around to face you. “I feel like I might die tonight. But you know what? I trust you and your fucking crazy ideas. I knew you couldn’t just stop at dinner party and cigars.”

You gave him your best evil laugh and directed him to his seat in the car. You placed yourself in the driver seat, put on your playlist and drove.

After about 30 minutes driving and Harry complaining about the blindfold, you pulled over in the parking lot. You directed Harry through the airport, up until the gate of the plane. There all of your friends were waiting silently, smiling slyly.

“I can’t believe you convinced him.”

Harry turned around on himself. “Mitch?”

All your friends cheered to let him know they were all here.

“Fuck, so that was a group plan, huh? What did she convinced me to do? Because I can tell we’re in a airport, I’m not deaf and this is a bad plan, I can already tell. This is a bad plan.”

You all laughed and you gently stroked Harry’s shoulder. “Harry, when did I ever put you in a bad situation?”

“That time in Atlanta when we ended up-”

“This never happened. It was a fever dream. You know I would never put you in a bad situation.” You cut him in his track, remembering the misadventure.

“What about that night in NYC last year? I remember that basement, Y/N.”

“This wasn’t a bad situation, just a plan that kinda failed.”

He giggled before turning around again. “Okay, so what’s the plan that will most certainly fail today?”

“You get your ass on that plane and you’ll see!”

Harry sighed but with the help of everyone, he got on the plane. You took the blindfold off him and made sure to keep him busy during the flight.

After the pilot announced the destination, you watched Harry’s soul leave his body.

“Vegas? Fucking Vegas? You guys are all mad. Mad men. Does Tania even know?”

All of you gave him a big smile and said “Surprise!” in harmony.

“She doesn’t know. We’ll call her later. Just relax, mate.” Tom smiled at Harry and laid back in his seat.

Harry leaned in your ear and whispered. “She’s going to kill both of us, you know that?”

“Then we’ll both die after the best party of our lives.”

The flight was fun. You guys chattered and laughed. Harry was finally relaxing and giving into the mood. You couldn’t wait until you land to show him all you planned for tonight. But mostly all you didn’t plan; the best nights you spent with Harry were the ones that started without a plan. The ones that were supposed to be chilling at home. Actually even chilling at home turned into the best night. That was the thing; even the most boring shit can be amazing if you’re with the right people.

***

After landing and getting down from the plane, you lead Harry and all your friends to where the party was at; everywhere. You were painting the town red tonight.

You started with a few drinks in the lobby of the hotel, making your way downtown to a Casino just for the sake of being in Vegas, then you moved to a ballroom where a 30s theme party was going on. You sipped on Martinis and Manhattans until the fancy drinks were getting boring so you moved the group to a grunge club. Everybody was dancing and drinking and whatever else they found amusing. You could tell everyone was having fun, especially Harry.

Around 2AM some girl proposed to your group to come to her place cause she was throwing an after-party.  And obviously, everyone followed because following drunk strangers is fun.

You ended up at her place; all of y’all in a tiny apartment with some trash music and cheap alcohol, dancing and screaming until the neighbors called the cops for disturbance. So everyone, as drunk (and high for some) as they were, started leaving and running when the pigs showed up. You rolled with Harry, running through the night in the neighbourhood, laughing and breathing loudly.

“Fuck! I knew this was gonna end badly!” Harry laughed at you while reaching to grab your hand so you could run as fast as he did. You tightened your grip around his hand once you had it and ran to a dark corner.

You placed your hands on your knees and sighed, breathing deeply. “It could’ve been worse. The pigs could’ve arrested us.”

“I’m pretty sure my negotiation skills would’ve gotten us out anyways.”

You scoffed. “Your white ass face would’ve been enough, baby.”

He laughed and grabbed your hands to keep going further away from the girl’s house and the police car. You both were too drunk to even think correctly about where to go. You sent a text to the groupchat asking if everyone was okay and to meet up at the hotel.

But neither you or Harry could tell what way to go so you walked for a little while, stopping by any bar you came across  to get another drink.

You walked for about an hour and you were finally heading back into the city center. Your feet hurt so you stopped in a little park next to a Casino and a crappy motel.

You sat your ass down on a bench and grabbed Harry’s hand to make him sit next to you. He sighed and sat. You watched the sky for a little while.

“The stars look like a bunch of beans. Like a shit ton of beans flying above us.”

You laughed at his drunken comment. “Yep, a sky full of fucking beans.”

You both started singing the Coldplay’s song in harmony but replacing stars with beans all the way through the chorus and cracking up in laughter everytime you emphasize the word ‘beans’.

Harry took a long breath after his giggle and sighed. “Fuck, I’m gonna miss this.”

You looked at him for a second. “What do you mean?”

“Having fun with you like that. I’m gonna miss it.”

“But none of us is going anywhere?” You were pretty confused about his statement.

“Tania wants to settle in Los Angeles.” He turned his head to look at you. “And you know… You’re not…in Los Angeles, you. You’re not.”

You didn’t expect that. You thought if Harry was to ever settle somewhere it’d be in London. “You mean you’re gonna spend all your free time in LA? Fucking LA? Drinking grass smoothies all the time?”

He chortled at your comment. “It seems like that’s the plan.”

You stayed silent for a few minutes, taking the information in. It felt worse than a breakup; you were losing your best-friend and without even knowing it, you threw the goodbye party.

“So you’re really going to marry her and move and we’ll never see each other again?”

Obviously alcohol made it all even more dramatic to you; it was an overwhelming emotion.

“Not never again…”

“C’mon, you know damn well what happens when longtime friends part sides! We’ve watched How I Met Your Mother together!”

He chuckled and then took a deep breath. The air was suddenly heavier, and all the alcohol in your blood was making it hard to keep the focus on the serious conversation.

“We should do one last crazy ass thing together. It’s not like we’re gonna remember it anyway!” Harry pointed the casino with his head.

“You mean blow all of our money on bets and shots of patron?”

“Yep, that’s exactly what I mean.”

You didn’t check your phone as it rang in your pocket and followed up behind Harry running towards the Casino.

You took a last round of shots in the lobby. And you started shouting at Harry, your glass in the air. “You know what? I just remembered you’re getting fucking married, dude! Married? Fucking married. I can’t believe I’m gonna say this but fuck this bitch you’re engaged to.”

Harry laughed and shouted back. “Hey! I’m already fucking this bitch I’m engaged to!”

You cracked up in a laugh. “Noooooo! I mean she sucks! She wants to take you away. Awaaaaaaay.” You hiccuped and took a breath.

“I’m in love with you. I’ve been since like fifth grade or whatever.” You chugged down the rest of your glass.

Harry stopped for a second, he placed his glass on the bar. “Wow. That’s a revelation.”

He giggled and took a sip of his tequila. “I’ve been in love with you since like….. That time in third grade when you punched me in the chin cause there was a bee on me….”

“Oh fuck! I remember…. Your lip bled so much.” You let a little laugh slip through your lips. The alcohol in your blood made you lose sense of the importance of the words you just shared with Harry and what he shared back. And you thought for a second that maybe it was just drunk talk but the stupid smile you couldn’t get off your face reminded you the truth of it: it was going to stink in the morning.

After making sure both of you got enough drinks, you led him in the Casino and stopped at the first roulette table.

“Okay.” You looked at Harry. “What’s the bet though? Cause I will be putting money on something I have no idea how to play.”

“Well if I win, then you have to elope with me.”

“Oh shit.” You took a deep breath. “Fair, but if I win, we are eloping this motherfucker together.”

He scoffed. “Looks like we’re eloping tonight… That word is fucking weird, though. Eloping.”

“Who cares about the word! I’m betting on number 22 and 15. What about you baby?”

Harry took a look at the roulette for a second, placed the cash he had in his pocket on the table. “22;15.” He looked at you with a smug smile.

The dealer spinned the wheel and revealed the winning number. “22. You win.”

You collected your payout with Harry, left a big tip to the server and ran out the Casino to find a chapel.

“This is going to be so bad!!” You laughed out while running with Harry.

“Like every plan you’ve ever put me into.”

You stopped in front of the chapel at the back of the crappy motel.

“I don’t want to get married to Tania… She’s amazing. I love her so much. But it’s so boring. So boring. I want stupid plans and crappy basements party and casinos and unexpected flights and I want to be able to say when I’m 78 and I don’t have no hair left and I smell like old shoes and cheese that I married my best friend and I never regretted anything.”

“You’re being too fucking deep, Harry. There’s a Madonna drag as the officiant in this chapel. You are going to regret this.”

He chuckled before taking your hand. “We, Y/N. We are going to regret this.”

“Yep.”

You took a step into the chapel, glanced at Harry’s face to be met with a big smile and his drunken eyes. “Fuck this, I guess?”

***

You woke up with a terrible headache, your eyes could barely open because the light was too bright in the room. There was a weird smell of old alcohol, carpet and coconut air freshener. You opened your eyes fully only for your vision to be blurry as hell, the ceiling was moving and your head was so heavy, you couldn’t lift it up. You tried to look around you, seeing pulled up green sheets over your naked body and what seemed to be the curves of someone laying next to you. You felt a rumbling in your stomach and that’s the moment you knew; you had to get up…. because you were going to throw up.

You rushed to the bathroom and closed the door behind you. After emptying your stomach, you sat on the floor for a few seconds. The bathroom was small and poorly lit with a little window over the bathtub. You stood up and washed your face, taking the time to look at yourself in the dirty old mirror over the sink. Your hair was a mess and your make up was smudged. You had a huge hickey on your neck and little ones following down to your chest. You got out of the bathroom, holding your head and stumbling slightly. The room was clear since the curtains were pulled, you peaked at who was sleeping in the bed and found Harry, draped in the sheets peacefully snoring. You swallowed the gulp in your throat; this wasn’t good. You checked your phone and to no surprise you had a shit ton of missed calls and texts from your group of friends. Some asking if you’re okay, others where you’re at and some insulting you for not answering.

You gently shook Harry’s body. “Wake up.” He moaned before pulling back the covers to his face. You tugged on them to uncover him, leaving his chest bare. “Wake up, Harry.”

He groaned and turned around to lay on his back, his face turned to the ceiling. “What time is it?”

“It’s almost 9.” He turned to face you, opening slightly his eyes to peek at you. “You’re naked.” He nonchalantly said. You blushed for a second pulling the covers off him to cover yourself. He looked down to himself. “I’m naked, too.”

A floating silence lasted a few seconds before Harry jumped out of bed to find his underwear. “I’m naked! I’m naked. You’re naked. We’re in a bed. We’re in…. Where even are we?”

“In a motel somewhere in Vegas.”

“In Vegas?” His voice got two octaves higher. “Why are we in Vegas?”

“For your bachelor party, Harry. Stop freaking out.”

“Are you asking me not to freak out? We’re in a bloody crappy motel in Vegas and we’re both naked. I can’t remember what happened last night for the life of me and my head is killing me.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed, putting his pants back on. You looked at his back and you could see slight scratches marks with the sun light. You started getting dressed too, as fast as you could. Harry grabbed his phone and started scrolling down. You heard him sigh loudly.

“The fuck we did last night, Y/N?”

“Wish I could give you an answer, Harry. All I remember is getting on the plane and then it’s a black hole.”

“Well…” He got up from the bed, wearing only his trousers. You watched his chest for a second, his tattoos and his glowing chest in the sunlight. You caught yourself staring at him; his shoulders, his chest hair, your glaze going down to his trail.

“Y/N?” Harry’s voice resonated.

“Huh?”

“Did you hear what I said?” He tilted his head to the side and gave you a confused look.

“What did you say?” Your eyes lowered to the floor so that you would stop looking at him.

“I said I hope we didn’t do anything stupid. The wedding is next week. I have a stressed and very angry bride-to-be waiting for me at home and at the look of her texts, I’m in for a bad fight.”

You pinched your lips at the thought. What if you did something stupid? What if you messed up? It was already a stressful time for them. And you stewed in with a giant weekend party in Vegas when the instruction was clear: no big party.

“Let’s go find the others and finish our weekend.”

Harry scoffed as he picked up his shirt. “I’m going home. I’m sorry if I’m breaking the mood but I’m hopping on the next flight back to LA.”

***

You couldn’t quite figure out how to place the flashbacks from the weekend. It was already Monday and the wedding was in 6 days. You had flashes of a party in a small and unknown apartment and running in the streets with Harry and playing in a Casino but still nothing on how you got into the motel with him. Harry went back home on Saturday morning and from his voice message last night; he got quite into fight with Tania. She wasn’t happy at all with the Vegas plan but Harry reassured her and apparently everything was better today. You wondered if Harry remembered anything more than you, maybe he could fill in the blanks.

You knew the week was going to go fast and the wedding would be here sooner than you’d think, so you just hoped nothing unexpected would come back to you or him.

On Wednesday, you met up with Harry and the groomsmen for last minute check-ins for the wedding. You walked into the manor Harry reserved for the ceremony and as an obvious bad sign, Tania didn’t even said hello to you and avoided any eye-contact. You kinda wanted to apologize to her. After all, you did mess up a little bit.

“Hey guys.” You walked up to where your friends was.

“Hey Y/N. Did you pick up the ring from the jeweler?” Harry didn’t even look at you. He was signing some papers with the caterer and just asked the question without looking up.

“Yep. Got it right in the bag.”

Harry gave you a little look and you felt weird about it. It wasn’t his usual ‘thanks for doing the job’ look or anything tender. It was cold and almost professional.

You went over your check-ins with the groomsmen. You didn’t talk to Harry for the two hours you were there, not a word or a look. You knew something was off so once the work was done, you asked him to meet you in the bathroom.

You were standing next to the sink, checking your reflection when Harry walked in.

“Is there something wrong with the ceremony?” He asked bluntly.

“No.. Um… I just wanted… needed… to talk to you.”

“About?” He wanted to cut the conversation short and you hated this feeling in your stomach.

You sighed and smiled tenderly to him. “Well… How are you feeling? The big day is so close.”

���I’m feeling okay.” His answer was sharp but you were desperate to understand what was going on.

“Harry… What’s wrong? Why are you so cold?” You insisted.

He took a deep breath and closed the door behind him, making sure it’s locked.

“You know how I said I hope we didn’t do anything stupid in Vegas?”

“Yes.” You were confused about where he was going with that but it seemed bad.

“Well, we did something stupid.” His jaw clenched and you felt out of breath. “We did something so fucking stupid, Y/N.” You swallowed the gulp in your throat. “We fucked. I can’t even believe it. I don’t even remember how we ended up in that crappy fucking room. All I remember is how I had sex with….” He didn’t even look at you. “I cheated on my wife, before we even fucking got married.”

You couldn’t say anything, the images slowly came back to you.

“You have nothing to say, huh?”

Your ‘humour coping mechanism in stressful situations’ reflex kicked in at the wrong time. “Well, technically it’s not cheating, the bachelor party is a single man party.” You laughed nervously.

“It’s all your fault. We said no fucking party. No big stupid plans, but you had to go against our wishes because you’re so fucking selfish.”

You couldn’t say a word. You never seen Harry so mad at you before.

“Look, I’m sorry your dating life is such a mess. And that you can’t find anyone, but I did. I found someone. Someone amazing and then I fucked this shit up because you couldn’t go without one party.” He rapidly passed his hand through his hair, and sighed.

You felt anger boiling down in your stomach. Him being mad was comprehensible but it wasn’t all your fault.

“You fucked this shit up, yourself. I wanted to throw a fun bachelor party for my best friend. You wouldn’t have had sex with me if you didn’t wanted to. Because deep down, you know you don’t want this marriage. You don’t want to be stuck with Miss Boring Pants and spend the rest of your life here in LA, drinking grass smoothies and having to partake in her posh high standard life. You know that’s not what you want. You know it was premature to propose so soon in the relationship. You’re mad at yourself, Harry. Get a grip. You shouldn’t do this.”

It all slipped. You just couldn’t hold it in.

“I shouldn’t do what?” Harry’s face was red, his nostrils were open and the vein on his neck was popping. You could tell he was holding back the tears at the gate.

You took a deep breath and a calm voice. “Get married. You shouldn’t get married.”

He filled his lungs with air and exhaled loudly, trying to keep his composure.

“Listen carefully Y/N. You are nobody to tell me what I should or shouldn't do. What happened in Vegas was a drunken mistake and I won’t let it ruin the best day of my life. I won’t let you ruin the best day of my life. So here’s what’s going to happen. We’re going to go through the ceremony with no slips and then I’m moving to LA with Tania. And you, you move out of my life.”

Your heart sank to your stomach, and your face was boiling; the tears slowly gathering in your eyes.

“You don’t mean it.” Your voice was almost like a whisper.

“I do, Y/N. From now on, I just want to make sure this wedding is the perfect wedding Tania wants.”

He unlocked the door of the bathroom and left without looking back. You brought your hand to your chest as if it would soothe the pain and let the tears flow down your face. It couldn’t be real.

***

It was hard going on like nothing happened but if there was anything you could do right now was make sure you got your best-woman duties done. The wedding was tomorrow and you had to finish your speech. What would you even say? “To my ex-best friend, I wish you the best to you and your boring wife.” That sounds about right.

You were waiting for Jeff to come in with the last informations regarding the ceremony so that tomorrow everything goes according to the plan. You heard a knock on your door, you got up thinking Jeff came in early and opened up. A postman with a big envelope was standing there.

“Y/N  Y/L/N?” He asked, looking up from his notes.

“Yes, herself.”

He asked for your id and verified it. “That’s for you.” He handed you the enveloppe and after you took it, asked for you to sign the delivery papers.

You thanked him and got back inside. You sat on the sofa to open it, there was a Vegas postage on it and your heart missed a bit.

You slowly opened the envelope. Inside you found a marriage license legally binding you and Harry for life. You pinched your lips and took a deep breath. This was a mess, a huge mess.

How on point was this news? Good way to make sure his ceremony goes exactly like they planned when you’re going to come in and let them know they can’t get married anymore.

You sat back and tried to clear your mind.

You were officially married to Harry…. And Harry is about to actually get married tomorrow. This didn’t make much sense but you had to think of a solution and quick.

[fanficshiddles]

Caught in his web, Chapter 39

When the jet started to descend, Chloe was a little bit nervous again. Not sure what to expect. But it went smoother than she had thought it would and it wasn’t too bad. The pilot was good at his job and always did nice landings, that’s one of the reasons why Loki had hired him.

It was a short drive from the private runway to the dock where there was a small speed boat waiting for them.

The driver, Lucas, carried their bags from the car onto the boat and handed Loki the keys for said boat.

‘Have a great stay, Mr Laufeyson.’ He said politely with a bow of the head.

‘Thank you, Lucas. If you can be here to pick us up on Tuesday at two in the afternoon. I won’t have my mobile on, so any issues contact the house phone.’

‘Of course, Mr Laufeyson.’ He nodded with a smile.

Loki took Chloe’s hand and led her onto the boat. There were life jackets waiting for them, Loki made sure that Chloe got hers on first and that it was on securely.

‘Don’t want you falling into the sea.’ Loki was very focused while he tightened various straps, Chloe couldn’t help but stare at his beautiful face.

‘There we go.’ He said, pleased with her life jacket he smiled at her and cupped her cheek.

‘Thank you.’ She smiled back at him.

It made her feel warm and fuzzy inside how he was looking out for her. So attune to her health and safety.

It was exciting being on the speed boat, even though Loki didn’t make it go as fast as it could. They were in no rush so he took it easy over the waves, not wanting Chloe to get sea sick.

‘There it is.’ Loki grinned and pointed ahead of them.

There was a small island that was coming into view. Chloe’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open. She could see the beautiful looking villa just off the beach, surrounded by a few hills and some small forest areas. The villa stood out well because it had white walls with a lovely red colour slated roof, with plenty of large windows.

‘So there’s absolutely no one else on the island?’ She asked, struggling to believe that he actually owned the entire thing.

‘Not a soul. Apart from some birds.’ Loki chuckled.

‘Wow.’ She kept staring at the island as it started getting larger and larger. ‘And you said it was a small island!’

‘It is, in comparison to a lot of others.’ He grinned. ‘But I am glad you think otherwise.’

‘This is just insane.’ She shook her head, making Loki chuckle again. He enjoyed surprising her. And he was a man that was definitely full of surprises.

When they got to the beach, Loki jumped off the boat and held his hand out, helping Chloe off before then grabbing their bags. He tied the boat to a post further up the sand, making sure it wouldn’t get taken out to sea.

Chloe was already wandering slowly up the beach with her bag, taking it all in. Loki easily caught up with her and slid his arm around her waist, smiling down at her.

‘Do you like it?’ Though Loki could tell by the look on her face what the answer was.

‘I love it! It’s stunning.’ She grinned, her heart was racing with excitement.

Loki led her up towards the villa. It was up some steps and had a perfect view out to the ocean. You could just see mainland in the far distance.

As soon as Loki unlocked the villa and pushed the door open, Chloe rushed inside to take a look around. Loki watched in amusement, Chloe was like a kid in a candy shop as she rushed around all the rooms, ooo’ing and aah’ing at every room. Plus a swearword or two in shock when she saw the likes of the swimming pool outside that overlooked the beach, it was huge and had a lovely patio area next to it that also went undercover. There was a hot tub too and a large barbecue installed with stone built around it, so it blended in well.

‘Did you have this place built yourself or did you buy it like this?’ Chloe asked when Loki caught up with her after putting their bags in the master bedroom.

‘I had it built. When I bought the island I wanted a blank slate, so I could build my own home away from home, exactly as I wanted it.’ Loki draped his arm over her shoulder and guided her through to the kitchen.

‘It’s absolutely amazing. Really beautiful!’ Chloe said as Loki went and opened a secret looking cupboard, revealing an array of alcohol.

Chloe face-palmed at how well hidden, yet well stocked, the cupboard was. Loki just grinned at her and poured them both a drink.

With drinks in hand, Loki showed Chloe their room. Of course it had an en-suite and was very luxurious. She fished out her bikini, wanting to go for a swim as Loki had suggested they swim before drinking too much.

‘Who says you’re getting to wear a bikini?’ Loki growled, grabbing her wrist before she could make it to the bathroom to get changed.

‘What else would I wear in the pool?’ She knew what he was going to say, though.

‘One rule. No clothing of any kind is allowed in the pool.’ He wiggled his eyebrows and prised the bikini out of her hand, tossing it behind him onto the dresser.

Chloe opened her mouth, about to protest in worry of someone seeing. Then she remembered where they were. And she didn’t know what to say as a comeback to that.

Loki smirked in triumph when she couldn’t think of anything to say in response. He gripped her chin and kissed her, then stepped back and started removing his own clothes. ‘Come on, doll. Get naked.’

Chloe bit her lip and started taking off her clothes too. But as she took her dress off, she realised something…

‘SHIT!’

‘What’s wrong?’ Loki frowned, pausing with his trousers down around his ankles as he looked up at her, concerned.

‘I… I must have left my knickers on the plane! I forgot them! What if the cleaner finds them under my chair?’ Her eyes were wide in panic.

Loki threw his head back laughing. He finished removing his clothes, including his boxers, then stalked over to her. She tried her best to keep her eyes up on his, instead of looking down at his semi erection.

‘Don’t worry, doll. I’m sure the cleaners find much worse on other private jets.’ He chuckled, amused at how horrified she was. And he slyly unclasped her bra and pulled the straps down off her shoulders.

‘But… They’ll know it’s your jet…’

Loki flicked her bra to the floor, then cupped her face and kissed her forehead. ‘Relax, Chloe. Trust me, they’ll have seen worse. It’s just a company here in Greece anyway that deals with the cleaning on this end. The cleaners won’t know who the jet belongs to.’

He stepped away and bent over to pick up his trousers. Chloe was momentarily distracted at how amazing his ass was. She wanted to just bite it…

‘Besides.’ Loki’s voice pulled her from her thoughts as he stood up straight and turned around to her. ‘I wouldn’t leave these delightful garments behind.’ He grinned cheekily, holding up said knickers.

‘You fucker! You had them all along!’ She snarled and launched at him, making him laugh when she tried to wrestle him down, but he just stood like a marble column, laughing.

Loki wrapped his arms around her and threw her up over his shoulder, she just huffed in defeat. ‘You’re an ass!’

Loki chuckled and gave her bum a slap, making her yelp.

‘Behave, doll. Or I’ll redden this lovely behind of yours.’ He growled.

Chloe didn’t want to admit that the mere threat, and taster, had her clenching her thighs together a little, not entirely opposed to the idea. But with how powerful his swing could be when he wanted to, she decided against asking for it.

Loki carried her out to the pool. Without any warning or putting her down first, he just jumped straight into the deep end.

When they came above water, she couldn’t resist splashing at him and then swimming away while giggling.

‘Oh you are so asking for it!’ Loki called out and swam after her.

Chloe glanced over her shoulder but didn’t see him above water, she could just make out his form underneath. Coming after her like a shark. She squealed loudly and tried to swim faster, but Loki was a strong swimmer and managed to grab her ankle, hauling her back to him.

The two enjoyed their swim together. They mainly messed around, teasing one another. Loki was enjoying this playfully braver side of Chloe that was coming out. And Chloe was enjoying the calmer, playful side of Loki too. He just seemed a bit more relaxed as soon as they stepped onto the island. Though she wasn’t surprised really, considering he was basically on twenty-four seven at home.

But she was hopeful, perhaps being alone on an island with Loki wasn’t going to be such a scary thing after all.

[self-proclaimed-chaotic-good]

Nothing’s Normal | Cliff Steele x Reader (Request)

Request:  Hi can you do a imagine where the reader is the daughter of Bruce wayne and a meta and in a relationship with cliff Steele please and thank you

A/N: @rachelcarroll1819 Sorry it took me a while to get to this request because life and I keep forgetting to post it, so here it is. I know it’s supposed to be a simple imagine, but I got carried away because I love writing the dynamics between the Doom Patrol members. I hope this is what you asked for.

Warning: Doom Patrol-typical swearing, usual Doom Patrol shenanigans, some angst?, some fluff

Words: 3211 (lol idk what happened)

-

It had been almost a year since your adoptive father, Bruce Wayne, had sent you to regularly check up on Vic and the others at Doom Manor. He was made aware of this new team of metahumans through the young Cyborg and as Batman’s assistant, you were assigned to keep tabs on all of the Justice League members in case of emergencies.

One rule that he made sure you understood was that you’d go when Niles Caulder wasn’t around. You heard about that doctor and his work with the Bureau of Normalcy. Your father heard about them during one of his investigations into a series of missing persons cases, all showing signs of possessing some kind of power. Being aware of your own powers, you agreed with your father to stay away. That doesn’t mean you had to stay away with the Doom Patrol members, though.

You wiped your forehead as you finished fixing up their black painted bus. The team currently had the budget of a public high school in an expensive city, so there wasn’t much good material to work with, so you made as much adjustments as you could while giving room for some upgrades.

“Not exactly the Magic School Bus,” Cliff said, handing you a cloth to wipe your hands with.

“Well, Vic could always get some of that good juicy tech stuff from home so we could turn it into the Magic School Bus,” you said, raising an eyebrow at Cyborg.

Vic shrugged, stepping back to look at the small bus. “I think it looks fine. Maybe you could actually do more if you take off those gloves.”

You purse your lips and say nothing. He still doesn’t know the reason why you wore those gloves and you try your best to keep like that for as long as you could.

Rita walked over with Larry, placing her hands on her hips and sighed. “Are we looking at the same thing? It looks so dreary and… and… shabby,” she said.

“Hey, what’s wrong with my paint job, man?” Jane snapped.

Rita ignored her. “No one’s going to take us seriously as an actual superhero team.”

“No one takes us seriously anyways,” Larry pointed out.

“Yeah, but think of what (Y/n) could do with that cool tech, Vic,” Cliff exclaimed, grabbing Vic’s shoulder, “She worked on the fuckin’ Batmobile! I think after saving two towns and the world from the apocalypse, we deserve a Doom Mobile.”

Vic was slowly being swayed, agreeing that the team should have some kind of advanced mode of transportation instead of relying on Flit to emerge and teleport them to their destination. Vic rubbed his chin, then nodded.

“Yeah, I could try and-” He looked up to address you and Cliff when he realized that the two of you vanished, “Where did they go?”

They all shrugged.

“It’s not like they can fuck,” Jane said bluntly.

“Jane,” Rita scolded her. Jane rolled her eyes and made her way back to the manor. Rita looked over at Larry who shrugged.

“As long as they’re not getting into trouble, it’s none of our business,” he said before walking to his greenhouse.

Rita pouted, standing with only Vic to talk to. “I just want to know what my dear friends are up to, don’t you? Cliff seemed so… happy lately, hasn’t he?”

Vic nodded. “Yeah… you don’t think that Cliff… and… (Y/n)?” He frowned just thinking about it. How would that work?

Rita hummed. “Maybe we should… check if everything’s okay,” she said lamely.

“Yeah, maybe,” Vic said, getting curious. He knew you ever since he joined the Justice League and you didn’t seem the type to be in a relationship. Surely, you and Cliff were just friends.

-

“You think we could get the bus to go that fast?” you asked Cliff, nodding over to the TV in the corner of the Robotman’s room, playing a recording of an old NASCAR race. You leaned over the sketches of upgrades you’ve been meaning to add once you get the right tools and materials, your gloves tossed to the side.

“I mean the air resistance will be something that we have to compensate for,” Cliff said, “Race cars are slim as fuck, which is why they can flip the fuck out when we crash into each other.”

You wrote some notes down, then looked up at Cliff. “Why did you choose to be a racecar driver?”

Cliff shrugged. “I liked driving. I liked the rush. I liked the crowd. And I was really fuckin’ good at it, so I liked the winning, too.”

“At least you didn’t become an actor,” you teased, “Though you’d surely win a Raspberry award.”

“Hey!”

Cliff reached out to grab you on your sides. You shrieked, feeling the tips of his metal fingers nearing the most ticklish part of your body before you ran away. He chased you around the room, making you laugh as he bumped into the furniture when you’d dodge.

You ran out of breath from running and laughing too much, pausing for a moment, giving Cliff enough time to grab you. You huffed a laugh, gripping his metal arms and relishing in the cold touch as he carried you over to the couch and plopped you down.

Cliff was one of the very few people that you could touch without any gloves or clothing in the way. It wasn’t like skin, but at least you didn’t have to worry about your powers affecting him.

He looked down at you and sighed before sitting down. He held your hands and ran a metal thumb over them, having similar thoughts running through his head.

“I wish I could fuckin’ feel this,” he muttered, “You deserve someone who’s normal. Someone that can feel your skin, feel how soft your hair is, be able to kiss you, pop a fuckin’ boner. When you hug me, it’s just all bulky metal for you, and I can’t even feel how warm you are.”

You leaned against him and also sighed. “I could… I heard they’re developing these synths, they call it. Robots that look like humans with realistic hair, skin, everything. I could try and maybe look into it, if you want. If you’re comfortable with it,” you offered.

“What if it doesn’t work? Then you’re stuck with this,” Cliff gestured to his body.

You shook your head. “I just want you to be happy and I know how hard it is to not be able to touch anything. We can keep trying to find other ways, Cliff.”

“Even if I had my human body, just me, I still think you deserve better. I… I was a horrible person. I was a bad husband and a bad father. I’m learning from that and I feel myself getting better, but what if I relapse?”

There were so many things you wanted to tell him, that him having his human body back won’t change the fact that you still won’t be able to touch him, but you knew how hard it was for him to come to terms that all those human traits he had were gone. Everything except his brain.

“Your friends and I won’t let that happen to you,” you said firmly.

You ended up sleeping on Cliff’s lap after talking for a couple more hours. He carefully ran his metal fingers through your hair, mentally cursing when your hair almost got stuck in one of the joints. He slowly lifted you up and carried you over to one of the guest rooms next to his, setting you down on the bed and covered you with the duvet. He had the urge to kiss your forehead, but knew he couldn’t. When he turned to leave, Rita and Vic were standing there with knowing smirks. Cliff wanted to roll his eyes as he pushed past them.

-

“How long are you going to be gone this time?” Cliff whined as you packed up your duffel bag.

“Not sure,” you said, “but they said it was urgent, so Vic and I are both needed.”

“Can’t we come with you, go sightseeing around Gotham?” he asked, following you out of the room.

You snorted. “Not much to see around Gotham, unless you’re looking for criminal activities and corrupted cops.”

“Yeah, and Batman.”

“And dangerous criminals.”

“We defeated Mr. Nobody! We stopped the apocalypse!”

You sighed, stopping at the manor’s entrance. “Cliff, maybe next time. Right now I have to focus on the mission.”

“You ready?” Vic called out from the small plane that your father sent you.

You nodded, picking up your duffel bag. “I’ll call you,” you assured him.

Cliff nodded, his shoulders slumping. You beckoned for him to lean down and you pressed your forehead against his metal head, closing your eyes for a brief moment before pulling away. The chauffeur grabbed the bag from you as you climbed into the plane.

“So… why Cliff Steele?” Vic suddenly asked.

“How-”

“Rita and I saw you two.”

You leaned back in your seat and shrugged. “He makes me laugh.”

Vic nodded. “Fair enough, I guess.”

The two of you fell in silence for a moment. You picked at your gloves, before looking up at Vic. “But please don’t mention this to anyone, at all,” you pleaded, “No one has to know.”

“Alright, no problem, (Y/n/n).”

“Thank you.”

The rest of the flight was silent, with the both of you trying to get in touch with your respective fathers. Your father was reluctant to bring you into the mission, but your expertise and powers were needed for them to solve their investigation. You hated your powers and your father knew it, which is why he tried his best to avoid the situation from reaching that point, leaving you as the last resort.

“Half an hour until landing, miss Wayne,” one of the pilots announced.

“Thank you,” you called out, grabbing your duffel bag to change in the bathroom.

-

Cliff played with his mini racetrack for the hundredth time after standing around outside watching Jane paint and hanging around Larry in his greenhouse to understand why he loved watering plants so much. He tossed the remote control onto the couch and sighed. What is it that you do that you were needed on the mission? Every time he asked, you would shrug it off and say that you were a glorified secretary for the Justice League. Do they need paperwork to be filled out or some shit?

“And why are you telling me this?” Rita sighed as she brushed her hair in front of her large mirror, Cliff sitting on the floor behind her after unloading his thoughts onto her.

“You were the one that wanted to know about our relationship!” Cliff shouted.

“Okay, okay. Calm down, Cliff.” She set her brush down and turned in her seat. “So what is it that you want?”

“Uhhh.” Cliff tilted his head. “I feel like she’s hiding something from me.”

“Did you ask her?”

“What the fuck is she going to say? Yes, Cliff, I am hiding something from you. What is she going to say next, it was for my own good?”

“Cliff, we’ve known (Y/n) for a year. She doesn’t owe us everything about her life. I’m sure she has her reasons. She works for the Justice League for crying out loud. There’s a level of secrecy that she must have to keep as part of the job.”

Cliff groaned. “So we just wait, then?”

Rita gave a firm nod. “We will just wait.”

They sat there in silence. Cliff blinked, staring at the ceiling, then back at Rita. She shifted around in her seat, then cleared her throat.

“I never thought I’d be… itching to go and save the world,” she began, “I wonder what it’s like for the Justice League.”

“Don’t they usually battle some otherworldly being or each other?”

“I know, but I’m sure there was never a time where they were… self-conscious about going out there. They don’t have powers like we do, if you could call it that, where even the slightest of our emotions changing would affect us badly.”

Cliff waved a hand dismissively. “Nah, I’m sure it’s the same for them, just in fancy costumes.”

Rita sighed, then nodded in resolution. “You know, Cliff, you’re right. Maybe we could-”

“Who the fuck are you?!” They suddenly heard Jane shout, followed by a loud crash.

“Where’s Niles Caulder?” A deep male voice bellowed.

Cliff and Rita exchanged a look before rushing out of the room towards the entrance. Rita’s eyes widened as she saw Batman storming through the door, pushing past Hammerhead, with (Y/n) trying to stop your father while Superman was trying to calm Hammerhead down.

“What the hell is going on here?” Larry jogged over as Vic rushed in towards the group. “Vic, what’s going on?”

Vic let out a frustrated sigh, glancing back at Batman, before turning back to his friends. “Our mission uncovered some things linked to Niles and not in a nice way,” he said, not sure how much of the classified mission he was allowed to share with the people who were also victims and complicated friends of said Niles Caulder.

“And why are they here?” Rita pressed.

“Let go of me, you fuckin’ Ken doll in stupid ugly overcompensating tights!” Hammerhead growled as Superman wrapped his arms around her, preventing her from pouncing on him or Batman.

“Where’s Niles Caulder?” Batman demanded, glaring at the group.

Larry looked at the others, not sure what to say. Rita shook her head while Cliff nodded. (Y/n) stood in front of him and growled in frustration.

“Not until you calm down!” you snapped.

“He did this to you,” your father hissed.

“He did it to all of us,” you said, gesturing to the group, “With reason. There’s no excusing the shit he did, but you have to hear everything out before you carry out your justice. You've taught me this before. Now. Sit. Down.”

He clenched his jaw, looking back at Superman, who disappeared. “Where did they go?”

They heard an explosion from the front yard, followed by Superman’s voice. You all looked at each other and groaned, “Oh, no.”

Cliff was the first one out the door, already approaching Flaming Katy. You rushed forward, but Vic held you back.

“Cliff’s done this before,” Larry assured you.

“Come on, Jane. They’re not worth it. Think about it, they’re here for Niles. Think they’d smack him around, just a little, after what he’s done?” Cliff called out to the flaming figure. “Baby Doll, I can make those peanut butter jelly sandwiches you like, without the crust and everything. I’ll even watch those shitty nineties rom-coms with you, Karen.”

The figure slowly lowered, the flames gradually extinguishing until Jane emerged again. She glared at Superman, then at Cliff.

“Fuckin’ prick,” Jane muttered, not aiming it to anyone in particular,  stomping back into the manor.

Cliff turned back to the others and gave a thumbs up. You sighed in relief, urging everyone to go back inside. As they filed back into the large living room, you lingered by the door until you and Cliff were the only ones in the parlor.

“Sorry about this,” you muttered.

Cliff shrugged. “Meh, I was actually talking about you anyways.” You raised an eyebrow, silently asking about what. Cliff shrugged again. “I just missed you.”

You gave a small smile. “I missed you, too.” You took off one glove and pressed your hand against his metal arm, letting the coolness seep into your skin.

You opened your mouth to speak, when you heard a familiar coughing. You pulled away, your cheeks heating up. Your father narrowed his eyes at Cliff before jerking his head over to the living room where everyone was sitting. You pressed your lips into a thin line and followed him in, Cliff trailing behind you.

Once everyone was seated, Rita cleared her throat. “So, let’s start from the beginning, shall we?” she said, taking charge in leading the conversation. “So, what was it that caused you to seek Niles Caulder out?”

Your father was still fuming in his seat, so Clark decided to speak. “We were following a trail of missing persons cases and stumbled upon an underground facility. The missing persons were subjected to countless experiments and many didn’t make it. From the files we found in their database, it was all initially headed by a Doctor Niles Caulder. The first few experiments had actually been cancelled, but a team continued to do so without his knowledge,” he said.

Everyone stared at him, entranced by his handsome face and his smooth voice. Clark looked around and frowned, wondering why they were looking at him weird.

“I’m sorry I tried to punch your sharp jaw,” Jane muttered.

“You would have been cut from it,” Larry told her.

Rita waved a hand to dismiss them. “You,” she pointed at your father, “Batman...  person, you said that Niles did this to (Y/n)? Our (Y/n)?”

You sighed. “I was a part of the initial trials until my- until Batman saved me,” you said.

“What did they do to you?” Larry asked.

You hesitated, looking around the room. You spotted a dying flower, a plant that Larry had given Cliff to practice taking care of. You carried it over and set the small pot on the coffee table. Your palms were sweaty as they hovered over the wilting petals before you slowly lowered your finger. With a single touch on a petal, the flower was slowly revived, all color flooding back to its vibrant petals.

“That’s pretty cool,” Cliff said.

You shook your head, touching the petal again. The life from the flower slowly drained away until it was curled up and dry.

“Oh.”

“I can bring a living being back to life with a single touch, but… touch them again and they’re dead. Forever,” you said. “I wasn’t sure how long I’ve been in that lab. Some of the early records were gone by the time I was rescued, but if the aim is similar to what he’s done to all of you… I may be older than I look.”

“Well, I’m glad that our age difference isn’t weird anymore,” Cliff commented. You gave him an exasperated look until you remembered that you were sitting next to your father, making you freeze. The rest of the Doom Patrol members turned to Cliff and glared at him. “What? You guys were dying to know, and now that we’re talking about it… I’m just saying, people should stop thinking our relationship is extremely weird-”

“You’re still a robot, Cliff,” Larry reminded.

“So this is Cliff?” Clark asked you, ignoring the bickering.

You nodded. “Yeah…”

“Wait, you knew?” Your father turned to Clark. You closed your eyes and sighed.

“Well, it came up in a conversation…,” Clark tried to defend.

“Don’t you think I have the right to know who my daughter’s involved with?” Your father hissed.

“Wait a fuckin’ minute!” Cliff said, looking at you, then back at Batman, who was still in costume, then back at you. “What the fuck? Daughter? (Y/n)... What the fuck?”

[imagine-loki]

Caught in his web, Chapter 39

TITLE: Caught in his web CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 39 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki is a crime lord, a very dangerous man in the city. He is owed money, but the man is unable to pay Loki back, so Loki takes his daughter as payment instead.  RATING: M

When the jet started to descend, Chloe was a little bit nervous again. Not sure what to expect. But it went smoother than she had thought it would and it wasn’t too bad. The pilot was good at his job and always did nice landings, that’s one of the reasons why Loki had hired him.

It was a short drive from the private runway to the dock where there was a small speed boat waiting for them.

The driver, Lucas, carried their bags from the car onto the boat and handed Loki the keys for said boat.

‘Have a great stay, Mr Laufeyson.’ He said politely with a bow of the head.

‘Thank you, Lucas. If you can be here to pick us up on Tuesday at two in the afternoon. I won’t have my mobile on, so any issues contact the house phone.’

‘Of course, Mr Laufeyson.’ He nodded with a smile.

Loki took Chloe’s hand and led her onto the boat. There were life jackets waiting for them, Loki made sure that Chloe got hers on first and that it was on securely.

‘Don’t want you falling into the sea.’ Loki was very focused while he tightened various straps, Chloe couldn’t help but stare at his beautiful face.

‘There we go.’ He said, pleased with her life jacket he smiled at her and cupped her cheek.

‘Thank you.’ She smiled back at him.

It made her feel warm and fuzzy inside how he was looking out for her. So attune to her health and safety.

It was exciting being on the speed boat, even though Loki didn’t make it go as fast as it could. They were in no rush so he took it easy over the waves, not wanting Chloe to get sea sick.

‘There it is.’ Loki grinned and pointed ahead of them.

There was a small island that was coming into view. Chloe’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open. She could see the beautiful looking villa just off the beach, surrounded by a few hills and some small forest areas. The villa stood out well because it had white walls with a lovely red colour slated roof, with plenty of large windows.

‘So there’s absolutely no one else on the island?’ She asked, struggling to believe that he actually owned the entire thing.

‘Not a soul. Apart from some birds.’ Loki chuckled.

‘Wow.’ She kept staring at the island as it started getting larger and larger. ‘And you said it was a small island!’

‘It is, in comparison to a lot of others.’ He grinned. ‘But I am glad you think otherwise.’

‘This is just insane.’ She shook her head, making Loki chuckle again. He enjoyed surprising her. And he was a man that was definitely full of surprises.

When they got to the beach, Loki jumped off the boat and held his hand out, helping Chloe off before then grabbing their bags. He tied the boat to a post further up the sand, making sure it wouldn’t get taken out to sea.

Chloe was already wandering slowly up the beach with her bag, taking it all in. Loki easily caught up with her and slid his arm around her waist, smiling down at her.

‘Do you like it?’ Though Loki could tell by the look on her face what the answer was.

‘I love it! It’s stunning.’ She grinned, her heart was racing with excitement.

Loki led her up towards the villa. It was up some steps and had a perfect view out to the ocean. You could just see mainland in the far distance.

As soon as Loki unlocked the villa and pushed the door open, Chloe rushed inside to take a look around. Loki watched in amusement, Chloe was like a kid in a candy shop as she rushed around all the rooms, ooo’ing and aah’ing at every room. Plus a swearword or two in shock when she saw the likes of the swimming pool outside that overlooked the beach, it was huge and had a lovely patio area next to it that also went undercover. There was a hot tub too and a large barbecue installed with stone built around it, so it blended in well.

‘Did you have this place built yourself or did you buy it like this?’ Chloe asked when Loki caught up with her after putting their bags in the master bedroom.

‘I had it built. When I bought the island I wanted a blank slate, so I could build my own home away from home, exactly as I wanted it.’ Loki draped his arm over her shoulder and guided her through to the kitchen.

‘It’s absolutely amazing. Really beautiful!’ Chloe said as Loki went and opened a secret looking cupboard, revealing an array of alcohol.

Chloe face-palmed at how well hidden, yet well stocked, the cupboard was. Loki just grinned at her and poured them both a drink.

With drinks in hand, Loki showed Chloe their room. Of course it had an en-suite and was very luxurious. She fished out her bikini, wanting to go for a swim as Loki had suggested they swim before drinking too much.

‘Who says you’re getting to wear a bikini?’ Loki growled, grabbing her wrist before she could make it to the bathroom to get changed.

‘What else would I wear in the pool?’ She knew what he was going to say, though.

‘One rule. No clothing of any kind is allowed in the pool.’ He wiggled his eyebrows and prised the bikini out of her hand, tossing it behind him onto the dresser.

Chloe opened her mouth, about to protest in worry of someone seeing. Then she remembered where they were. And she didn’t know what to say as a comeback to that.

Loki smirked in triumph when she couldn’t think of anything to say in response. He gripped her chin and kissed her, then stepped back and started removing his own clothes. ‘Come on, doll. Get naked.’

Chloe bit her lip and started taking off her clothes too. But as she took her dress off, she realised something…

‘SHIT!’

‘What’s wrong?’ Loki frowned, pausing with his trousers down around his ankles as he looked up at her, concerned.

‘I… I must have left my knickers on the plane! I forgot them! What if the cleaner finds them under my chair?’ Her eyes were wide in panic.

Loki threw his head back laughing. He finished removing his clothes, including his boxers, then stalked over to her. She tried her best to keep her eyes up on his, instead of looking down at his semi erection.

‘Don’t worry, doll. I’m sure the cleaners find much worse on other private jets.’ He chuckled, amused at how horrified she was. And he slyly unclasped her bra and pulled the straps down off her shoulders.

‘But… They’ll know it’s your jet…’

Loki flicked her bra to the floor, then cupped her face and kissed her forehead. ‘Relax, Chloe. Trust me, they’ll have seen worse. It’s just a company here in Greece anyway that deals with the cleaning on this end. The cleaners won’t know who the jet belongs to.’

He stepped away and bent over to pick up his trousers. Chloe was momentarily distracted at how amazing his ass was. She wanted to just bite it…

‘Besides.’ Loki’s voice pulled her from her thoughts as he stood up straight and turned around to her. ‘I wouldn’t leave these delightful garments behind.’ He grinned cheekily, holding up said knickers.

‘You fucker! You had them all along!’ She snarled and launched at him, making him laugh when she tried to wrestle him down, but he just stood like a marble column, laughing.

Loki wrapped his arms around her and threw her up over his shoulder, she just huffed in defeat. ‘You’re an ass!’

Loki chuckled and gave her bum a slap, making her yelp.

‘Behave, doll. Or I’ll redden this lovely behind of yours.’ He growled.

Chloe didn’t want to admit that the mere threat, and taster, had her clenching her thighs together a little, not entirely opposed to the idea. But with how powerful his swing could be when he wanted to, she decided against asking for it.

Loki carried her out to the pool. Without any warning or putting her down first, he just jumped straight into the deep end.

When they came above water, she couldn’t resist splashing at him and then swimming away while giggling.

‘Oh you are so asking for it!’ Loki called out and swam after her.

Chloe glanced over her shoulder but didn’t see him above water, she could just make out his form underneath. Coming after her like a shark. She squealed loudly and tried to swim faster, but Loki was a strong swimmer and managed to grab her ankle, hauling her back to him.

The two enjoyed their swim together. They mainly messed around, teasing one another. Loki was enjoying this playfully braver side of Chloe that was coming out. And Chloe was enjoying the calmer, playful side of Loki too. He just seemed a bit more relaxed as soon as they stepped onto the island. Though she wasn’t surprised really, considering he was basically on twenty-four seven at home.

But she was hopeful, perhaps being alone on an island with Loki wasn’t going to be such a scary thing after all.

[mhdiaries]

Diary of Nefera de Nile

Of course you want to read my diary...peasant.

30 July

So father arranged an appointment for me to meet with another agency today but regretfully I was unable to attend. I must have eaten something that did not agree with me last night for I felt faint this morning and I thought I detected the beginning of the shadow of a blemish. I immediately had the servants prepare an emergency spa treatment and I feared to move lest my complexion be upset by the change in humidity that would occur if I left the penthouse. The whole incident was very traumatic and was made more so by learning that some monster with far less beauty and talent was chosen by the agency for its new campaign. Father called and was royally cross with me even after I explained the dreadful details of my situation. He has threatened to come here himself and personally escort me to the next appointment if I do not, in his words, “Stop draining the royal coffers with nothing to show for it in return.” I may never recover from such a blow to my delicate psyche. The only remedy for this situation, of course, is to throw a party.

12 August

All is in readiness for tomorrow night’s festivities. Every agent and top model has received their invitation and RSVP’d. The city’s beast interior designer is putting the finishing touches on the decorations, the caterer an DJ are coming in the morning to set up and I have bought out the next floor down to prevent any potential problems with the neighbors. I, myself shall be the most opulent and regal host since...since ever. I am incomparable to any who have come before and so I will remain. I totally rock and rule. 

13 August

It should have been the night. I made a return on my father’s investment. Everything was supposed to be about me. ME! It all started out like it should have. The decorations, the food and music wove their spell over every thing and I was at the center of it all. I was shining like the sun and every monster there wanted to be in my orbit. Except, except for a motley group of monster models who were sitting on my couch huddled around some kind of book. I do not know why I invited them to the party and I hadn’t remembered them coming in but there they were now. I had met them when I first moved to the city. I suppose I noticed them at that time because they acted just like the group of losers my sister creeps around with at Monster High. They has all come to Milan on a wing and a scare and despite my offer for them to come live with me in the penthouse they insisted on sharing a place together that they could all afford. So next I decided to offer them the benefit of my wisdom and leadership. Only they didn’t want it. No, they wanted me to just come and “hang out” with them. Asp if. Now they were sitting on my couch looking through...MY FEARBOOK...and they were laughing...at me. It must have been at me. Who else could it have been? Then the whole room began to spin and it felt like everyone was pointing and laughing at me...I guess I must have feinted because when I woke up it was totally quiet and I could hear the sound of...of cleaning. I stumbled out of my bedroom and there were those same models helping the servants clean up after the party. Every other monster was gone. It was all ruined - all of it - because of them. I wanted to scream but that would have been so...common. Instead I quietly asked them to leave and told them that the servants would finish the job. They didn’t argue, they just left but before the door closed the last one out, a werewolf with too blond hair and split ends stopped and said, “I was captain of my Fear Squad too - we all thought it was funny that we had that in common.” Common? I have never been common.  

25 August

I’m still in Milan but everything is packed and I am ready to leave. I should have left yesterday but the servants that father sent to pack my penthouse were lazier than the ones he sent to unpack me when I moved into the place. It’s only 10 rooms for Ra’s sake and I was only here for a year. They actually tried to use the excuse that the elevator was out and carrying everything down 15 flights of stairs was slowing the process. One of them even had the audacity to lift his eyes from the floor while speaking to me. Such insolence! I would have punished him but father has forbidden me from disciplining the servants. One day though I shall be queen and I do not forget.

26 August

Before I left tonight I had my driver bring me around the horrid little mausoleum where that motley pack of models crammed themselves together like zombies until they could be “discovered”. I had something special I wanted to leave for them as a parting gift and though normally I would have considered this servant’s work I wanted to make sure, in this case, it was properly done. As I walked up the stairs I could hear them gossiping, in a most petty way, about some failed model they all knew. I thought their comments were quite revealing, especially since the likelihood that any of them would ever haunt the runway was laughable. I rapped on the door and waited...I heard some ghoul inside laugh and say, “Yes, but what she lacked in generosity she made up for in meanness.” “And don’t forget insecurity,” added another in zombie. They were still laughing when some Spanish gargoyle whose name I had forgotten but whose wretched complexion was completely familiar finally opened the door. The mausoleum went as silent as a tomb as they all sat gaping with open mouth stares. It never gets old seeing the effect I have on less than common monsters. Finally the gargoyle regained her senses long enough to acknowledge me. “Hello Nefera, we thought you left yesterday.” “Royalty is not bound by the restraints of schedule,” I replied. “I am leaving tonight but before I go I wanted to hand deliver these invitations. They are to the restaurant you all have said would be the first place you would like to dine after you got your first big break. It is most exclusive you know, and there is a table with your names on it reserved for you this very night. I have left a car at your service downstairs and the first course shall be placed on the table in two hours. This should give you all ample time to make yourselves presentable.” They attempted to thank me but their gratitude is as below my acknowledgement as my beauty is above their plainess. “All is arranged,” I said as I walked to my waiting car. Later on as father’s plane lifted off and the lights of Milan disappeared beneath the clouds, I thought about the dessert and laughter they must be enjoying and I wondered how in the world that pathetic bunch of losers would ever be able to afford the bill that was headed to their table.

31 August

After several stops and some shopping along the way we were finally flying home. There was no moon and the sky was clear. Father’s pilot announced that there was going to be a meteor shower tonight. Azula climbed out of her hiding place to perch on my hand and look out the window just in time to see the stars begin to fall. I was rather bored by the whole spectacle until I noticed a small group that seemed to be falling together at the same speed. That is until a much larger and faster meteor came out of nowhere and smashed through the small group sending them spiraling off into the darkness. Ah yes, I am on my way home little sister and you and your happy little life cannot even see me coming. 

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 139

Chapter Summary - Danielle goes to New York on a business trip and when she gets home, plays hostess.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

Copyright for the photo is the owners, not mine. All image rights belong to their owners

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @wolfsmom1@black-ninja-blade

Danielle sighed as the pilot declared they had finally made it back to London. There was an issue in New York that meant her flight was cancelled, which in the grand scheme of things was not too problematic, she was, of course, her own boss, but it did mean she had to rearrange a few things around that she had planned for the next day, and the dinner she had planned to have with Tom that night with perhaps some fun, was cancelled, but overall, it was fine, she just wanted to be home.

The few days in New York were tedious and boring. It was mostly regarding the business side of Safeguard, taxes, profits, the usual boring work, but there was also a few arguments regarding blame for the few incidences that had occurred in the work year. When the finger-pointing of said blame began, Danielle sat back and read the entirety of the documentation for her office, since none of the lawsuits were directly against her office, so the finger-pointing parties would be brave to even suggest she had a part in any of them. She read the costs of the business and noted that they needed to streamline a few issues regarding costs in the office. While the men bickered, she wrote a few suggestions on a post-it and placed it in her file. When it was suggested she move herself to the US as she was the only one without a blot in her worksheet, she scoffed and told them it was London or nothing. She would happily walk away from the job that day were they to cut the London office or insist she leave it, reminding them that she was not even a year with the company and they had not had the productions to match anything the US offices had faced, so she would not be likely to have had the issues they had had, but with their name growing in Europe also, it was only a matter of time that their business would pick up larger projects and be prone to the same issues as the US offices had. Offers of better packages and deals did nothing to sway her, she was adamant, she wanted London, it was her home, that is where she had built her life and nothing would sway that. The most she would do would be to move out of the city, but her home was with Tom in Britain with their dogs, friends and family.

She was spotted a few times in New York, a few people took photos and even a girl came up to her and asked her to tell Tom that he had inspired the girl to follow her dream and that she had been accepted to some acting school and to thank him for being an inspiration. Danielle smiled and said she would before messaging Tom to tell him. Overall, the trip was boring. New York was interesting, or she assumed it was. She saw very little in her time there due to her busy time dealing with all things Safeguard related. There were also events planned in the evenings in different restaurants which most often ended up in clubs, the latter part of which, Danielle avoided. She was not interested in such things and the last thing she wanted to do was be seen acting mad without Tom there. Even a simple stumble would be construed as being shitfaced drunk and she did not want that. Never did she think that she would have to consider such things, but Danielle found herself actively considering such and as she skyped Tom or messaged him from her hotel room and watched the terrible photos go up on Facebook pages of those she worked with, she did not regret her decision. Tom urged her to go the first night, but when he saw she wanted to stay in, he said nothing more, instead telling her what happened in her absence.

She walked through the arrivals lounge, getting her bag and walking through the airport terminal and into the drop off area. She had it planned and was just waiting to see if the timing worked well, sure enough, not five minutes later, she saw her car coming towards her, chuckling to herself at Tom smiling at her from the driver’s seat. She walked to the door to the back seat and placed her suitcase and rushed to her own door, seeing the line of traffic that was coming behind them.

Tom, seeing the same dilemma barely waiting to hear the click of her seatbelt before driving off. ‘Hello.’ He grinned almost coyly.

‘Hi, what are you driving my car?’ She smiled.

‘The dogs and I went for a spin today and your car was closest to the gate.’

‘You did that ridiculous thing where you cannot get your car out with my car in the way, haven’t you?’ Tom said nothing but looked sheepishly at the road, causing her to laugh. ‘How are you?’

‘I’m fine, I missed you, but fine. What about you, you seemed annoyed yesterday?’

‘I was forced to be away a night more than I wanted, of course I was. I just...New York is not somewhere I would go too often. I went to Central Park, which was beautiful, but…..I wanted to be home.’

‘So no move the “Big Apple” for you?’ Tom asked.

‘Not in a million years.’ She shook her head. ‘They wanted me to move over, did I tell you that?’ She turned to look at him, seeing the shock on his face. ‘I told them I would walk before I would ever consider it. This is home, I am not leaving.’

‘What did they say?’

‘What could they say? They only want me over there because of the whole no lawsuits here thus far.’

‘So they want to drag you down in your stats?’ Tom’s jaw clenched. After the comments Lucas made regarding her using Tom as a stepping stone the time he offered her a part of the business, he was not too fond of the Australian, when all of the errors by the US offices were forced onto her desk causing her to have to work double shifts, he became more unlikely to become a fan of her fellow partners. He hoped when the time came to consider her options after the five-year contract, she would consider more options than staying with Safeguard if such became more commonplace.

‘No, I think they are just hoping to spread the madness in general but I am not interested. I want to be here, with you, our dogs and all this...okay, I would like a little less rain.’

Tom chuckled before taking her hand in his and kissing her knuckles. ‘Even with the rain?’

‘There is no question for me, this is home.’

Tom smiled as she recited the words that he had said the time people were urging him to go to LA to have more of a chance with his acting career. ‘Even if it is not Ireland?’

‘I miss Ireland, I miss a lot about it, but I built my life here.’

Tom bit the inside of his cheeks at her declaration, she saw her life with him. The offer of more at work paled in comparison to what she had with him. He heard her trying to stifle a yawn beside him. ‘Did you not sleep well last night?’

‘I didn’t sleep at all, and then there was this woman on the plane, in the seat in front of me, God Tom, she was like a banshee.’

‘A what?’

‘A banshee, a sort of Irish fairy, renowned for its high pitched wails and shrieking.’

‘So no sleep there either?’

‘None.’

‘I need to ask, about tonight?’

‘Yes?’

Tom glanced at her for a moment, seeing her confusion. ‘You forget what we planned?’

Danielle thought for a moment before groaning. ‘Shite, I forgot.’

‘I will send them a text.’

‘What, no. We had this planned with ages.’

‘You’re too tired though.’

‘Doesn’t matter, I will go home, get an hour and go get ready.’

‘Elle…’ Tom interrupted. ‘Ben and Sophie won’t mind.’

‘I was supposed to be home yesterday.’ Danielle groaned. ‘I want this.’ Tom glanced at her for another moment as they wanted to join the flow of traffic. ‘I want to do this.’

‘I don’t want you to feel pressured.’

‘How tidy is the house?’

‘Good, I mean, I didn’t wash behind the couch, but…’

‘Right, stop at Waitrose on the way back, or the Co-op and we’ll grab what’s needed. I’ll jimmy the food a little so it won’t take us too long to do and we’ll be sorted.’

‘So dominant, aren’t you?’ Tom smiled.

‘You love it.’ She grinned in return.

*

‘Right, that’s everything.’ Elle smiled, putting her arms around Tom. ‘Thank you for all your help.’

Tom turned and enveloped her in his arms. ‘Any time Darling, the doing of jobs to entertain our friends is not a burden for you alone.’ He leant down and kissed her. ‘I have missed you.’

‘It’s only been a week.’

‘A long and terrible week.’

‘So what day are you heading to promote Infinity War?’

‘Too soon.’

‘Are we going to your mums for your birthday?’

‘Not this year.’ Danielle looked at him. ‘I am needed here the morning after.’

‘But she’s coming here, right?’

‘I was going to talk to you about that.’

‘What “talk about” she is your mother, of course, she has to come here.’

‘Dad wants to be part of things too.’

‘Oh.’

‘Exactly.’

‘They are adults, they know how to behave.’

‘You don’t mind?’

‘Why would I mind? Tom, they are your family. Speaking of family, guess who is coming to London?’

‘Your aunt that is less than pleasant?’

‘Close. Siobhán.’

‘Yeah?’

‘She and the poor fecker she is going out with are coming over for a few days. I said I would be available to spend time with her. If you are available, we should bring them for dinner.’

‘I think that’s a wonderful idea. Where are they staying?’

‘I got them a good deal in Premier Inn in Archway.’

‘Close enough to town.’

‘Exactly, and a healthy distance from here. Family are great but under your roof, not always. I will meet them in King’s Cross and show them where to go and see what days they want to do what and let you know.’

‘Sounds like a plan.’ He pulled her to him. ‘You’re exhausted.’

‘Is that your way of telling me I look like crap?’

‘No, I did not say “you look exhausted”, I am saying you are exhausted, I can see you are tired, but you don’t look half bad for someone as tired as you are.’

Danielle laughed as he grinned at her cheekily. ‘Hey.’ He chuckled. ‘I am tired, I won’t lie, but I want to do this. We don’t get to see Ben and Sophie as we would like. Speaking of which, I need to put the roast veggies into the oven.’

‘Good….’ Tom paused as Mac and Bobby barked, informing them that their guests had arrived. ‘I get that, you do this.’ He kissed her for a moment before walking out of the room.

Danielle did as she had planned. When she turned around again, she smiled warmly. ‘Well, hello strangers.’

Sophie hugged her tight. ‘You survived the madness of a premiere.’

‘Barely. It is so hard.’

‘So no Infinity War for you?’

‘I have not even considered it, we’ll see. How is work?’

‘Overwhelming, what time did you get back yesterday?’

‘I am home with about, six hours, I think. And I did that thing where I went for a sleep and woke more tired than I went to sleep.’

‘I hate that, you should have called and cancelled.’ Ben leant down and kissed her cheek. ‘Hello.’

‘Hi.’ Danielle smiled back. ‘Tom offered, but I wanted to see you both, we both did.’

‘Well, we are amazing.’ Ben chuckled.

‘Drinks?’

‘You know me so well.’ Ben beamed as he clapped Tom’s shoulder, the two men going to get something to drink.

Danielle rolled her eyes before getting two wine glasses and the white wine she knew Sophie liked. ‘So, how are my favourite boys?’

‘So bloody adorable, I need to show you a picture of them in a minute, but for now, you need to talk to me about how you felt at the premiere.’

‘Are you asking or is Tom asking through you?’

‘I am asking. Tom doesn’t need me to ask for him.’

‘Well, he has used Ben-ogram and Sophie-ograph before. It was fine, I just...the shouting was so loud.’

‘It can be overwhelming.’ Sophie nodded. ‘How were the fans?’

‘Great, good, I cannot fault them. If any of the nasty ones said anything, I didn’t hear it. All the ones that spoke to Tom were apparently complementary and one or two papers covered it and yeah, there were a few comparisons to any woman he stood next to for more than six seconds and indeed Swift, but overall, it was fine. The weird thing is, the Irish Independent, a paper from home, obviously, went into more detail than most about me, talking about my career and whatnot, so that felt a little odd.’

‘I know, they will get what they want, then they tend to leave you alone. But of course, that means….’

‘They’ve already snooped around and made you uncomfortable?’ Danielle finished.

‘Yes, it’s not nice, but we signed up for this, both of us.’ Sophie stated factually. ‘We knew about who Ben and Tom were, about their fans and how we would be treated. We should not have to deal with this, but we knew about it being a factor.’

Danielle nodded. The day she realised there was a chance that Tom felt as she did, she was forced to think about such things, and as their relationship progressed, after everything with their fight over the GQ article, she knew she had to work through certain things she was worried about at the time. It was true, they should not have to deal with it, but they had little choice. They could hardly ask Ben and Tom to change from the careers they loved because they had come along and did not want to deal with what they knew were their lives. ‘No, I could never do that to him, the same as I would never expect him to do it to me.’

‘If he does, don’t hide the body too well, it’s not fair on his family.’ Sophie joked.

[thelioncourts]

title: the mannequin gallery fandom: captive prince pairing: damen/laurent rating: (eventually) mature words: 5428 for chapter two (2/?); 10116 all together

story summary: If things would have gone the way they were supposed to, Damen and Laurent would have never met. But things didn’t go the way they were supposed to, not at all, and their meeting ended up being the equivalent of skydiving with a malfunctioning parachute. Damen tried not to complain. After all, he was now living his dream; he was travelling with his best friend without having to make sure their “I"s were dotted and their "T"s crossed. And, sure, Laurent was difficult to work with, to work for, but he was also great to look at and they made it work well as long as they were anywhere but in Paris. But when Laurent’s past begins to cause present-day problems, Damen finds out those difficulties Laurent constantly displays were a bit more warranted than he could have ever imagined. And Laurent? Laurent finds out the truth – and finds out how to smile.

“You can practically smell the croissants already,” Damen said as they adjusted their carry-ons over their shoulders and entered terminal 2D of the Charles de Gaulle Airport.

The flight from Berlin to Paris had been two hours long, just long enough for Damen to feel the slightest ache in his legs, and the stretch of walking them to the baggage claim felt refreshing. While Damen talked and chattered, Nik was quiet next to him. His eyes were taking in the bright red of the carpet, the arched glass ceiling, and the hundreds of people surrounding them, some so close they all kept bumping shoulders. None of them lost their stride. Damen wondered if the red of the carpet reminded Nik of the pictures he had been showing Damen on the plane, pictures of past Etoile fashion shows. Red seemed to be one of their favorite colors.

Despite his silence about all this during their stopover in Berlin, Nik had clearly been doing his research in preparation for Paris. Once they had settled into their seats on the plane and the pilot had announced they could unfasten their seatbelts, Nik had pulled out his laptop and said with an edge of excitement, “Do you want to see some of my favorite photos from Etoile’s past shows?”

It turns out, there was a whole lot more to fashion than Damen had ever given any attention to. His head told him ‘Duh, Damen, of course there’s a lot to fashion,’ but it was as though the complete confirmation of that hadn’t hit him until he saw the pictures. Nik seemed to have come to the same realization just days earlier. It had been the main reason for his endless list of saved photos, some cropped and zoomed in to give attention to the embroidered sleeves, the silk waves of scarves, and the jackets all strewn with jewels that glittered differently in angles of light.

“I’m not used to having to pay attention to clothes,” Nik had said before closing the laptop and stuffing it back in its bag. “You barely own a shirt.”

Now, the closer they got to the baggage claim, the looser Damen’s muscles felt and the more that a new excitement settled in instead. It had been a long time since they had gone somewhere unknown to them. He voiced as much.

[Continue on AO3]

“I’m excited about it too,” Nik agreed. His eyes were taking in different things now, scanning the multitude of signs as they wandered and wandered down a seemingly-endless airport with no baggage claim in sight. “Though, to be honest, I don’t know how we’ve never been to Paris.”

“We’ve barely been to France while we’ve travelled,” Damen pointed out. “We’ve only ever been to Nice and I’m pretty sure we went there because we had been in western Italy all the week before.”

“Why haven’t we been here before now?” Nik asked. Without even a break in step, he turned and started another direction with one finger pointing at a welcome and needed ‘Baggage Claim →’ sign above a different area to their right.

Damen didn’t break his step either while he said, “Not sure. I think France has always been not far enough away from home and too close all at once. We couldn’t just take a long weekend here like we could with places close to Greece but it also didn’t seem worth it to plan a long trip here when we could plan a long trip over to the United States to go hiking by the Grand Canyon or to fly down to Australia and hold koalas, you know?”

There were too many people waiting at the baggage claim already, but this was familiar territory after years of travel. Patiently, Damen and Nik waited for their too many bags. Damen’s hands were in his pockets and he was rocking on his heels while listing off a few things he wanted to do while they were here.

“Surprisingly,” he started, “I haven’t planned all that much.”

��Really?” Nik asked, one eyebrow raised skeptically.

“Really. I figured it’d probably be best to wait until you find out your schedule. Can’t be making the boss-man angry,” Damen said. Nik rolled his eyes.

Right when Nik was about to come back with a retort, Damen felt a finger poke at his shoulder and turned around to a group of teens, each one with hearts in their eyes.

It wasn’t that uncommon for Damen to get recognized in public settings anymore. Hitting two million followers on Instagram would do that for a person. Luckily for all those that recognized him, he was an easy-going guy, hence him posing with the kids for the video they were filming on their phones. It was a quick thing; the five of them stood around Damen, his height dwarfing them by comparison, and they all – Damen included – smiled wide, all their pearly whites on display while they waved at the camera and the girl holding the phone moved her thumb up and down on the screen, zooming the camera in and out. After another minutes of giggles from the teens, they disappeared, no doubt to immediately go edit the footage, and Damen rejoined Nik to wait for sight of their bags.

“Oh, is the king done mingling with the commoners at last?” Nik mocked.

“Man, I think I’m getting too old for this social media thing,” Damen said, laughing a little. “They’re making a TikTok, or whatever. I thought that was only people dancing? Am I missing something?”

“You know we’ve never been good at keeping up with the trends,” Nik said. “And for guys who rely on social media for their way of living, it’s not the smartest thing we’ve done. Or not done.”

Their bags finally rolled out from behind the curtain of the carousel and Damen stepped forward to heft each bag over toward Nik. They both had two bags on the carousel. Nik had one for his clothes and whatnot while the other held an array of camera equipment. Damen’s, meanwhile, were filled with clothes, products from advertisers, and half of one suitcase was full of workout gear and tubs of preworkout and protein that Damen couldn’t go without. Luckily, a few years ago, they had invested in nice luggage sets that stacked together like puzzle pieces in order to make moving them easier. They also had USB ports in them so they could keep their phones charged at all times.

It was another maze to get to the exit. They got lost once, Damen got stopped by two boys who were also filming a TikTok, and Nik bought an overpriced water for their drive into town all before they finally found the main doors. The doors were thronged with people, with loved ones waiting for family and business moguls waiting for their called cars, and Damen and Nik were talking over the cacophony, so it was a miracle Damen saw what he saw.

“Nik?” Damen asked, pointing over to where a bunch of men in suits were standing, eyes scanning the crowds. In that crowd stood a guy with a sign that read Etoile in fancy script and had Nik’s name underneath.

The man was inconspicuous in appearance, his suit nice but not standout-in-the-crowd-nice. His hair was cropped and a standard shade of brown, he was short and a bit stocky, and the sunglasses on his face only drew attention to his unsmiling mouth. He looked completely average.

Nik turned to Damen and said, “They never said they were sending a car.”

They both approached the man, Nik the slightest bit more hesitant than Damen, and shouldered their way through the crowd until they could stand in front of him. Behind the sunglasses, they could see his eyes jump from Nik to Damen then back to Damen before he asked in accented English, “Are you Nik?”

“I am,” Nik said after a beat.

“My name is Jord. Etoile has sent for me to escort you to our head office before then taking you to your hotel. I have been informed that you may be tired from your journey and may wish to go directly to your hotel instead. That can be done as well.”

“I’m going to Etoile already?” Nik asked.

“The owner likes to make connections with his possible hires as soon as possible,” Jord said, moving to fold the sign up. Damen stopped him with a hand out and the man eyed him cautiously still behind dark glasses.

“Can I keep that?”

The man kept a cautious eye on Damen even as he handed the sign to him and Damen, feeling Nik’s gaze, said, “We have to document this, Nik.”

“Well, we’ve only just come from Berlin, so it wasn’t a long journey. I’d be glad to go right over,” Nik said in response to Jord, bringing the conversation back around. “Is that okay with you, Damen?”

“Absolutely.”

“Wonderful,” Jord said, sounding like it was anything but that. “Follow me, please.”

The car was just outside the main doors, surrounded by dark taxi cars, a few buses, and several drivers from phone apps. The car, however, wasn’t so much a car. It was a sleek black Rolls Royce instead, the true standout in a crowd like this. Damen raised both eyebrows appreciatively at it before sliding into the seat through the open back passenger door. Nik followed, a quieter kind of awe on his face, and Jord closed the door behind them before they heard and felt the luggage being loaded into the trunk.

“This is crazy, Nik,” Damen said. The interior of the car was all a soft black leather and there was plenty of room for the both of them to stretch their legs out, something that was no small feat for two men several inches over six feet tall.

“They sent a car,” Nik said. His right hand couldn’t stop touching the seat underneath him.

“And not some shitty car. They sent the nicest car we’ve ever sat in that wasn’t at an Italian car show,” Damen said.

Jord was getting in the driver’s seat now, sunglasses still firmly in place, and he adjusted the rearview mirror before asking, “Is there anything I can get the two of you before we leave?”

“I’m not exactly dressed for the occasion,” Nik said after a beat. The fact seemed to have just dawned on him, perhaps when he took in how his black joggers looked next to the car’s interior, and Damen was in no better shape with a pair of slide-on shoes and a baggy neon orange sweatshirt.

“It won’t be a problem,” Jord said and he started the car, the engine purring as it came to life. “As long as you know what you’re doing with a camera, it won’t matter what you look or dress like.”

The drive from the Charles de Gaulle Airport to the heart of Paris was a hair over thirty minutes. It was just long enough for Damen and Nik to sit on the edge of the too-nice seats in the car and take in the sights. At first, it started like most drives near or in a big city: surrounded by a bunch of cars and monotonous buildings. But the closer they got, the more that ‘real’ feeling started to sink in. When they set sight on the first Parisian landmark, a statue that was too far away to read the plaque, Damen smacked Nik with the back of his hand and said, “Welcome to your new home for the next month.”

Sights started to get more and more recognizable. When they turned onto Rue de Rivoli, the Seine came into view. It was wider than it looked in pictures and it was impossible to decide if it was worth it to spend more time looking at the blue of the water or the beautiful French architecture all around them.

“We definitely have to plan something there,” Nik said, a sort of awe in his voice as he pointed to the Louvre. The pyramid was just visible enough to see the sunlight bounce from its glass.

“You’ll have plenty of opportunity,” Jord said. The car turned left down Rue de l’Amiral de Coligny. “Etoile’s building is just next to the museum, right outside the Tuileries Garden.”

“Wait, we’re almost there?”

Jord only hummed, the sound just loud enough to reach Damen and Nik’s ears, and then they were on Quai Franςois Mitterand and the Seine was practically at their fingertips. They were both leaning forward in their seats again, taking in the boats touring the river, the people sitting on the river’s edge, and the buildings across the river all framed by the sun. They felt the car ease to a stop.

The Tuileries Gardens were bright green. The flowers weren’t yet in bloom, the weather was too cold for that, but it was still beautiful in its contrast against the uniform color of all the surrounding Parisian buildings. But more eye catching than the gardens was the Etoile headquarters directly to the car’s right. The building went with everything else in Paris, its color a neutral cream, its design recognizably Haussmanian. It stood out though with its added ornamentation, the building busy even if lacking in colors. And right above the door was a sign in script writing, the letters enormous and undeniable: Etoile.

“Well,” Damen started, and he pulled his eyes away from the building to look at Nik expectantly.

“Well,” Nik repeated.

Jord had already gotten out and rounded the car to open the door before Nik even thought about unclenching his fist still holding onto his carry on. With a deep breath, Nik got out and smoothed down his shirt.

“You’re going to be fine in there, Nik,” Damen said reassuringly. He was still sitting in the car, one arm over the seat where Nik had just been, and he was flashing his biggest smile. “Can’t wait to hear about it when you get out.”

“Actually,” Jord interrupted whilst still holding the door wide open, “it’s been requested that you join.”

“Me?”

“Potential hires are looked through thoroughly for both professional and personal purposes,” Jord explained. “As you are in most of the photographs that were sent in for review, it was decided that you would be an important person to meet as well. Of course, if you’re opposed, you can wait in the lobby.”

“What do you think, Nik? This is your thing.”

“I’d like you there,” Nik said. “If you’ve been asked for personally, I don’t have any reason not to have you there.”

“And I’m your best friend in the whole world so you want me there for support,” Damen said, filling in the obvious gaps in Nik’s reasoning.

Jord led the way inside.

Though the outside was the same cream color as the other buildings around, probably due to a city restriction, the inside was like entering an entirely different universe. The floors were marble, a real marble that made everything from voices to footsteps echo, and right at the center, just in front of the desk where two beautiful secretaries sat on their phones whilst typing at a maddening pace on their computers, was a gold inlay, its design immaculate swirls and crossed lines. It was a labyrinth of busyness and it wasn’t calmed down or contrasted by an unbusy surrounding. No, instead the walls – which were white, yes, but – were brimming, overflowing, with solid gold decoration that covered every inch. Each arcaded window had a foot of gold surrounding its edges, the designs cherubs and flowers and muses like the palaces of old. There were a dozen gold gilded statues around the room that matched the gold gilded paneling taking up most of the walls’ space. None of it, however, compared to the chandelier hanging from the center, the piece looking like the one out of The Phantom of the Opera.

Damen and Nik shared a look that said everything. Jord was walking forward without hesitation and they followed as close behind as they could, trying not to get too distracted by their surroundings. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of walking, they reached the elevators which also, to no surprise now, were decorated all in gold.

“Take the elevator to the top floor. Someone will greet you and escort you to the owner’s office,” Jord said. He went to turn, his sunglasses reflecting all the gold in the room back in Damen and Nik’s face, when Nik asked, “What about our bags?”

“I will be taking your bags to your hotel,” Jord said. “And yes, your hotel has been arranged and paid for already. Once you are done, I will be here to pick you up and bring you there.”

Damen and Nik shared another look before Damen said, “Thank you very much, Jord. You’ve been a great help to us.”

Jord seemed hesitant to do anything for a moment and even more hesitant to say anything, so after an awkward pause he nodded curtly and turned the way they had come.

The elevator had a mirrored ceiling inside and it glittered the gold inlay of the floor back up. Nik hit the button that was above all the others, the one to take them to the top floor, and then Damen and Nik both sighed in unison.

“Are you feeling claustrophobic?” Damen asked. “I’m feeling claustrophobic.”

“I knew they used a lot of designs on their clothing,” Nik started, “but I didn’t think that would transfer to the building as well.”

“You ready for this?”

“Not much I could do right now if I wasn’t,” Nik said.

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

“I’ll be fine.”

They reached the top floor soon enough and this floor wasn’t much different from the main one. In other words, it was busy and overwhelming. There was a desk directly in front of the elevator doors, a smaller desk than the one on the main floor, but it sat empty. The mirrored panelling of the desk showed just how much Damen and Nik’s sweatpants went against everything Etoile stood for. To the right was a narrow hallway and to the left was another and, for a minute, Damen and Nik looked back and forth between the two, looking for a sign. It felt like the airport all over again.

It was just when they had decided to go to the right that a child came around the corner.

‘Child’ was the best word for him for he didn’t look a day over twelve, even if he was dressed like a little adult. He had a mess of artfully wavy brown hair and a stunning pair of blue eyes that matched the sapphires around the necklace on his throat. There was a shimmer to his eyelids, a golden glitter that went well with the actual gold glitter covering the jacket so big he appeared to be swimming in it. He was a beautiful child and he would have been more beautiful if his face didn’t have such a distasteful expression on it.

The child had stopped when he saw Damen and Nik and once they had taken him in and he them, the child scoffed and said in a voice clearer than a bell, “Les bêtes envahissent la ville, je vois,” before continuing to walk in a way that said this was definitely not worth his time.

Damen couldn’t help but laugh, the sound drawing both Nik and the child’s attention to him. “Les bêtes sont là pour voir le propriétaire de l'Etoile. Savez-vous où nous pourrions le trouver?”

The child’s face grew pale, if only for just a moment, before he recomposed himself. “This way,” he said with agitation, not pausing to ensure they were following him before he went down the left hallway. At the end of the hallway was a huge door, one that screamed of importance.

Damen and Nik expected the child to knock on the grand door that was clearly the entrance to the main office, but the child went in without a care.

“You have visitors,” the child said.

They couldn’t see the man, but they could see the top of his head. He was in a tall chair, large enough to be a throne, and the back of it was facing them as he typed away at the computer. If he had heard the child, he didn’t pay him any mind, but the child didn’t seem to be bothered. Instead, he stepped up to the desk, plucked a red lollipop from a gold gilded bowl, and left without another word or a spared glance in Damen and Nik’s direction.

“Assieds-toi.” The man’s voice was deep, a rumble in the delicacy of the room, and Nik turned to Damen for guidance. Damen, silently, pointed at the two chairs in front of the desk and they both sat down, listening to the clicking of the keys on the keyboard and the tapping of Nik’s toe on the ground.

Damen decided to give all his attention to the ticking clock on the wall. It was both to keep the time and to also try to figure out just how a clock could have so many things going on with it: an opal face, gold numbers, jewel encrusted hands, and Damen didn’t even know where to begin with the outside of it. Still, it was how he knew exactly three minutes and twelve seconds could feel like an eternity. Luckily, that was when the man turned around in his seat and smiled at them openly.

He didn’t look like what Damen thought a fashion designer and modeling agency owner would look like but, then again, Damen supposed he had never given much thought to what a fashion designer and modeling agency owner would look like in the first place.

The man was large; he had a broad chest and shoulders to match and Damen guessed that if he were to stand, he would be close to Damen’s own height. His hair was dark and neat and his beard full, if sprinkled with just enough gray to make him look dignified. His suit was dark and made him look regal, someone who would draw the eye and demand respect.

When he stood, it confirmed what Damen had thought about the man’s height, but it was hard to give that much mind when his smile went up to his blue eyes. “Bonjour bonjour. Bienvenue à Paris.” He must have seen something on Damen and Nik’s faces, especially Nik’s face, because he quickly came back with, “L'anglais serait-il un meilleur terrain d'entente pour nous? J'ai peur de ne pas parler grec.”

“English would be great, thank you,” Damen said, smiling at the smallest expression of relief on Nik’s face.

“Of course,” the man said agreeably and then he leaned forward, hand out. “And you must be our talented photographer, Nik.” The two of them shook hands.

“I am. Nik, that is. Thank you for having me. Us. It’s an honor just to be here.”

“We here at Etoile are honored to have you.” The man turned to Damen. “And you must be Damen.”

“Yes, sir,” Damen said, shaking the man’s hand. His grip was strong, his fingers rough. “Paris has been wonderful to us already and we’ve only been here an hour.”

Everything was all polite smiles as they each sat back down and adjusted into the chairs. The man had his fingers clasped together on the deeply rich colored desk and his eyes fell to Nik. “Do you prefer to go by Nik or is there something else you’d like to be called?”

“Nik is fine. It’s less of a mouthful than Nikandros.”

“Indeed, it is.” The man laughed just a bit. “So, Nik, I have to say that all of us here at Etoile, myself especially, were incredibly impressed with your portfolio.”

“Thank you,” Nik said genuinely. Damen could already see Nik’s shoulders dropping their tension, even if just a little.

“We normally receive applications from fashion photographers, people who live in the business of finding the perfect shots to display clothing made of every kind of fabric, clothing cut into every kind of style. It isn’t often we look over action shots of people surfing,” he said, motioning over to Damen, “or pictures of the stars over a desert. It was a nice change of pace. This brings me to two questions I have for you, Nik. The first is simply to sate my own curiosity: what drove you to want to photograph Paris Fashion Week? The second question, if you wouldn’t mind, is the question of how you came into the opportunity to photograph all around the world? It’s astonishing, especially for a photographer so young.”

“Well,” Nik said after a deep breath, “to answer your first question, I can say that fashion shows were never a thought, not until I started to meet other photographers as we travelled over the years. There was a photographer, from France actually, that we befriended while in Norway a few years back and last year he was given the opportunity to shoot for Silversio and he said he learned so much. I’ve been expanding my photography more and more as the years have gone on and I thought that this would be another great way to expand my art.”

“That’s quite a drive you have.”

“I owe a lot of it to Damen,” Nik continued, moving onto the second question. “When we were children, we made a pact to spend our gap year travelling the world together. We wanted to climb mountains and see every ocean. The older we got, the more I wanted to skip gap year all together and go straight into working for my family. But Damen convinced me of the worth held in our planned gap year and I realized one year wouldn’t cause me any harm and I would have hated myself for not giving it a chance. But our one year got ahead of us in terms of our social media. We started all of our accounts as a way to document the year. We never guessed it would turn into what it did and what it has.”

“I think congratulations are very deserved for all that you’ve accomplished. I’m assuming this means you’re a self-taught photographer as well?”

“Yes.”

The man hummed, the sound not unpleasant, just thoughtful, and after a pause as though to collect his thoughts, he turned his attention to Damen. “And I believe a congratulations should be given to you as well. Nik here has quite a talent with a camera, but from what I have seen, your charisma is remarkable. It explains much of your success, I would think.”

“Damen could rally himself an army if he wanted to,” Nik said.

“Charisma is everything in this world,” the man said. “You need it to survive.”

Damen smiled the smile he gave in pictures. The man smiled back and clasped his hands together again.

“I don’t want to keep you two any longer than necessary, I’m sure you would like to rest, and I have a few more meetings to attend before my day is over. The reason I asked for you to come meet me as soon as you arrived was to explain how the first part of this is going to go.” He plucked a folder from a small and neat pile on his desk and handed it over to Nik. Even the folders here looked expensive, Etoile’s fancy script all over the front. “In two days’ time we will begin our first photoshoot. I’ve learned over the years of building and perfecting Etoile that the best shows were shot by photographers who had a relationship with the models. This photoshoot will give you the opportunity to begin building those relationships. The clothing line you will be shooting is our new “Gold Label” line. It’s much different than anything we’ll be premiering at fashion week.” Inside the folder was an itinerary and an array of photographs of the most important pieces in this specific line of clothing. “The photoshoot is scheduled for three days. This is to ensure that each of the photographers have plenty of time to shoot with the group and to work with the individual models. There will be five photographers there, but only three of you will be going to fashion week.” He turned to Nik and smiled that same open smile. “Nothing like a little friendly competition.”

“And that’s all we’ll be doing before the actual show?”

“Yes. I will then be giving you the rest of the week to put together your shots from the photoshoot in order to present them to me. From there, a decision will be made on which photographers will be staying with us. Then you’ll have a week before the show to further prepare for the big event. Are there any questions about that?”

“I don’t believe so, no.”

“Well then, I believe we are settled here.” He stood up from his desk promptly, a physical end to the quick meeting, and Damen and Nik stood to follow him to the door. “Inside the folder are phone numbers for Jord whom you’ve already met and a few of my other men. If you need anything, do not hesitate to call them during your time here in Paris.”

“Thank you,” Nik said, shaking his hand once more, “for the opportunity and your generosity.”

“Yes, thank you,” Damen repeated.

“Of course, gentlemen. I’m looking forward to what this week will bring.”

They passed the child again as they were leaving. The lollipop was down to almost nothing on the stick and he watched them near predatorily, a finger twirling the gem attached to the zipper of his jacket.

“Bonne soirée,” Damen said with a wave.

The child flipped them off, his painted nail glittering.

Once they were downstairs, it was a quick journey to the hotel they had been put up in. The hotel was located in an old palace just across the river. Sadly, they were one building behind a river front view, but neither could care, not when the view itself was another bustling Parisian apartment complex that radiated life and sophistication, its inhabitants clearly upper class.

They were on the fifth floor and their room was spacious and decorated much more simplistically than anything Etoile could dream up. It was appreciated after the blinding display of wealth and ornamentation. The cream-colored walls matched the exterior of all the iconic Haussman buildings and the arched window and doorways gave it the elegance so expected from something in this part of Paris. The gaudiest thing were the curtains and Damen and Nik were quick to pull those back and secure them. After all, they blocked the best part of the room, the terrace overlooking the street.

They spent the next two hours taking turns showering the plane off of them, unpacking all their things, ordering room service, and chatting away about the things they couldn’t say earlier.

“What was with the kid?” Nik asked as he folded another shirt and put it in a drawer.

“I don’t know,” Damen said. “Maybe he’s one of the models.”

“He’s a little young to be a model,” Nik said.

“He was dressed like one.”

“He looked twelve.”

“Well the kid doesn’t matter. What matters is that the meeting went really well. He seems to like you,” Damen said.

“I’m not sure,” Nik said.

Damen rolled his eyes. “Don’t start with that.”

“I didn’t start anything.”

“What also matters,” Damen interrupted, “is that I could very much get used to this.”

He was standing at the open entrance of the terrace. The terrace itself was just large enough to fit a small table and two chairs, perfect for early morning coffee or relaxing at night. At the other building, the one just across, were other terraces full of people doing just that as the sun slowly began to fall over the city. On the streets were people all bundled as the nighttime temperatures began to settle in. Best of all, on the terrace table was a bottle of wine, a nice deep red, with Etoile’s script signature and a note from the owner himself bidding them, yet again, a welcome to Paris.

“I bet you could,” Nik said. He was already grabbing the available bottle opener. “I’m the one doing all the work.”

[hellas-himself]

Ch. 4 Noche Buena

Ch. 3

After the death of his father, Azriel is forced to go back to the one place he swore he’d never return to. But he finds himself quite literally face to face with his past, one that he had not let himself think of since he’d left. 

Ch. 5

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I woke up because I heard pots crash on the floor. I sat up, finding Elain trying and failing at pushing the pots back into the cabinet. She had Christmas music going and at least three candles lit that smelled like cinnamon.

And she was wearing my shirt. 

“Good morning,” I said, my voice raspy. I had the good sense to pull the blanket over me. She turned and looked at me, a smile on her face. 

“Good morning.” She blushed.

“You’re not working today?”

“The church is doing their annual Christmas thing today so they’ll be down there. I usually help but I’m pretty tired.”

I smirked, which only made her blush deepen. She waved me off.

“Go wash up. I’m making breakfast.”

“You sure you don’t need me to teach those pots a lesson?”

She laughed, pushing against the cabinet doors. “No. I got this.”

“Don’t start without me,” I said and got out of bed, taking the blanket with me. I laughed when I heard her whistle as I walked to the bathroom.

Of course she was already mixing pancake batter when I walked out. She made a pouty face as I went to stand behind her. I put my hands on her waist and she leaned back against me.

“I think I like you better with no clothes on,” she said. I laughed.

“That can be arranged.”

“Hm… Tempting, but I’m hungry. And I have a lot of baking to do today.”

“Baking?”

“I bake cookies for everyone.”

“Define everyone.”

“Everyone downstairs goes home with cookies tonight.”

“You do this every year?”

“Yeah. It’s not like I do anything else on Christmas,” she said and then let out a sigh. “I’m usually alone this time of year. I tend to over do it so I don’t notice it too much.”

I pressed a kiss to her shoulder.

“I know the feeling.”

“Go see what’s on Hallmark. Then you can set the table.”

“Yes, ser.”

“Stop that.”

She elbowed me and I walked away laughing.

We had breakfast on the sofa, Elain shoving her feet under my legs instead of using the blanket I’d brought over because she was cold. The movie was cheesy but she was smiling and I thought I caught her crying at one point. But I didn’t say anything about it. I was just grateful to be there with her.

“What exactly do you do on Christmas?” she asked, setting her plate on the floor and sitting back, hands on her belly.

“Nothing.”

“New Year’s?”

“I visit my parents.”

“And Three Kings’ Day?”

“I work.”

“Wow… And I thought I was boring.”

When I scowled she laughed.

“I’m kidding.”

“Why do you ask?”

She shrugged. “Sometimes I wish things were different. That I could just get up and go wherever I wanted when I felt like it. But my sisters don’t have to choose between a plane ticket or paying taxes for their business. And I know they’d send for me in a heartbeat… But then Nuala would miss out on being with Cerridwen. I can’t do that to her.”

“Don’t they come here?”

She shook her head. “It was… ugly the last time Nesta came here. Feyre wasn’t so bad but I can’t stand being looked at like I’m some kind of porcelain doll.”

“When are you opening the diner again?”

“The day after Christmas. Why?”

“Do you want to go see your sisters?”

“How?”

“We’d have to drive into Velaris but I can get us on a plane before the night is out.”

“Az… that’s too much.”

“We can come back here and celebrate Las Octavitas together. I’ll give you Christmas until the middle of January.”

She laughed at that.

“You would really do that?”

“For you? Anything.”

*

After baking unholy amounts of cookies, and giving them to everyone downstairs, Elain and I got in my SUV and drove out of Illyria and headed towards Velaris. She slept most of the way and didn’t wake up until the city lights roused her from sleep. She was grinning, despite it being well after midnight, looking around at the brightly lit city I called home. I didn’t even stop at my house, heading straight to the airport. It was a four hour flight to the coast where our mother lived, a city of nearly perpetual summer.

“How did you manage to get a flight out?” she asked as we hurried through the airport.

“I know people.”

“Yes, but how?”

I laughed. “I may have used my position at work to get us out of here.”

We avoided security, and I was grateful for my stupid badge for the first time since Rhys hired me on. Elain was blushing the whole time, especially when she saw the people waiting at the gates.

“No one lost their seat,” I assured her. “I promise.”

We both slept the entire flight and I woke up only because I heard the pilot announcing our landing. It took a few tries and I might have snuck a kiss or two when the flight attendant wasn’t looking, but I woke up Elain just in time for us to get off. We only had our carry-on bags; my backpack and duffle bag, the laptop case and her own bag. We were able to rush outside and catch our Uber. It was humid, my hair already starting to curl by the time we made it to the white manses near the coast. Elain was wide awake, looking at the fishermen in the docks, the sun glistening off the sea.

“What made your parents come here?” she asked.

“Tarquin’s family are modern day royalty here. After the life our father lived, retiring here was a given. Plus, living in the mountains of Illyria was bleak compared to this. My mother loves it here.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Wait till you see the house.”

She smiled, reaching out for my hand. It was comforting, and we didn’t let go until the enormous white estate came in to view.

“Did you tell them we were coming?” she asked as I helped her out of the car.

“No.”

I tipped the driver and carried all of our bags, leading Elain to the front door. I rang the door bell and then took Elain’s hand in mine, suddenly feeling rather sick to my stomach. I could hear my mother telling Rhys to sit his ass down, and for Cassian to stop hogging all the orange juice. Elain squeezed my hand and I imagined she was just as nervous as I felt.

“I swear to god if you two don’t cut the shit-” My mother stopped as she realized I was standing there. Her violet eyes were soon brimming with tears.

“Mom, what is it?” Cas shouted from the dining room. Something like a sob escaped her mouth and she was crushing me against her before I even knew what was happening.

She was muttering things in Spanish and I saw Cassian walk to the entrance hall.

“Holy shit! Az is home!” he shouted and once he saw Elain, I never saw that man move so fast in my life. He lifted her up and spun her around, making her laugh. I heard Feyre and Nesta realizing their sister was here, Rhys was rushing out to where we were standing and I was hugged and kissed within an inch of my life until our father came down the steps. He smiled when he saw me and everyone let Elain and I breathe to let him come say hello.

My brothers took our bags and Elain was pulled inside by her sisters. My mother led me to the dining room where my seat was unoccupied. Elain and I discarded our jackets and Feyre gave Elain a hair tie so she could put her hair up.

“We were just about to start breakfast,” my mother said, giving me a smile as she sat down.

“Thank god,” I said. “I’m starving.”

Elain turned red in the face. “Yeah… Me, too.”

“How are you here?” Nesta asked, a softness to her features that I’d never known she was capable of.  

“Well… Business is good and I was able to take time off,” Elain said and looked over at me.

“Oh, uh, yeah… I’m off until after Reyes,” I said.

“Does that mean you’ll be home for Christmas?” my mother asked and I just shrugged. I didn’t think anyone could smile that bright… Well, not until Elain was smiling at me.

“And you came together?” Cas asked, wiggling his eye brows. Nesta rolled her eyes.

“We did,” Elain said, and she never looked more like Nesta in that moment. It made me laugh.

“Together, together?” Feyre asked with a sly grin.

“Elain,” my mother said softly, “We were all going down shore for a bit. Did you bring a bathing suit?”

“Uh, no…”

“She can borrow mine,” Feyre offered quickly. “Rhys got me a really pretty dress I wanted to wear today.”

My brother ate it up, even if it was true. He looked at her as if they’d only gotten married yesterday.

“Dad’s bringing the cuatro out,” Cas said and our father rolled his eyes.

“It’s Noche Buena, and Azrielito is home. We’re doing it right.”

I sighed, even if I couldn’t stop smiling.

*

Elain walked down the stairs wearing Feyre’s black two piece, her sisters following behind her. Nesta was too busy fussing over Feyre to notice me staring at Elain.

“This is so small,” she whispered as she took my hand.

“I like it,” I whispered back.

“Of course, you do. But it’s my sister’s,” she said and pulled on my arm so we could start following my parents outside.

I didn’t let go of her hand until I went to help my brothers get the blanket down and mom’s umbrella set up. The cooler was full of beer and water and one really big bottle of coquito. Before I knew it, Elain was approaching me with a bottle of sunscreen. I held my hand out thinking she wanted me to help her but she put some on her hand and tucked the bottle in the crook of her arm.

“They’re not going to get any worse,” I said as she massaged the sunscreen over my scarred hands.

“That’s not a reason to not take care of them,” she said.

“Whatever you say, darling,” I said in imitation of Rhys who was currently covering Feyre’s face in kisses while she laughed and Cas made sounds of disgust.

Elain rolled her eyes. I still remembered the first time we’d met, when she’d seen my hands. I had expected disgust, or even pity. But she’d just put her hands beneath mine, as if to hold them up and called them beautiful. There had been no punch line, no teasing… She’d meant it. With that in mind, I kissed her, leaving her blushing when we parted to breathe.

“What was that for?” she asked. I put my hands on her waist and smiled.

“I feel lucky… that’s all.”

She smirked but got on her tip toes to kiss me, even as Cas whistled.

Feyre called Elain over to take a picture with her and Nesta, leaving me at the mercy of my brothers who were now coming over to where I was. Our father was sitting beside our mother, pouring her a drink.

“About damn time,” Cas said, throwing an arm around my shoulder as he looked over to where the girls were.

“What are you talking about?”

“Elain Archeron, dumb ass,” Cas replied and I elbowed him.

“Don’t start.”

“Oh come on, everyone knows you two would always end up together.”

“I’m afraid he’s right, hermanito,” Rhys drawled.

“Don’t bother her,” I warned them. Rhys put a hand to his chest.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

*

The water was colder than I expected it to be, but everyone save Feyre and my mother went swimming. They were both sharing a mango when everyone stopped to eat. Elain sat down next to me, towel wrapped around her shoulders.

“Play something,” mom said to our father but he handed me the cuatro.

“How about a song or two for your viejo, eh?”

“It’s… It’s been a while.”

It was already tuned up and I let out a sigh. He had taught me to play to help me retain movement and use of my hands after what happened. But it had always been the two of us, sometimes Rhys who would sing… So, with a grin, I looked at my brother whose eyes widened as I started to play. Cassian chuckled and poked Rhys in the ribs.

“Come on,” Cas teased. Rhys grimaced and looked at Feyre who waved him on. So Rhys started to sing once our father finished the introduction, as he always had. Elain was watching me, Nesta and Feyre completely taken with their spouses. My mother was in tears again and I gave her a smile, even as she started taking pictures and Feyre was no doubt recording it.

Before we had finished, Tarquin arrived with his family and had brought with him a small set of congas and we were all singing and playing music. Passing around coquito until the bottle was empty.

We all headed back to the house, Tarquin promising to come over for dinner. Elain had almost managed to pull me into the bathroom with her to shower, but then Nesta walked into the hallway and Elain pushed me out instead. I could hear her laughing and Nesta gave me a death glare that I felt all the way to my room.

Elain joined my dad and Cassian in the kitchen while my mother pulled me upstairs with her.

“Tell me, how did it go?” she asked as she went to her closet. I already knew what she meant. I sighed, taking a seat on the ottoman by her bed.

“It went… alright. He’d kept some of her things and the lawyer needed me to pick it up before the house was sold.”

“Hm… What did she leave you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I haven’t looked.”

She looked from out of her closet and gave me such a look of disbelief I saw where Rhys got his theatrics from.

“What? I ran into Elain and I just… forgot.”

“Right… Did you finally ask her to be your girlfriend?” she asked as she disappeared again. “Or are you waiting for some other sangano to waste her time?”

“Ma!”

I could hear her laughing. Then she walked out wearing a red dress, her black curls high up on her head.

“I’m happy you’re home,” she said as she came to sit with me.

“Honestly,” I said. “So am I.”

When she touched my hand, I inhaled sharply, but I still turned my hand palm up to hold hers.

“I know that you were always afraid of hurting her feelings,” she said quietly. “And I promise I took no offense… I was lucky to have been trusted with you, Lito… You and Cassian were everything I ever wanted. You completed this family.”

She kissed my cheek and I closed my eyes, relishing the feel of it. She had always been this way, from the first day the social worker brought me to their home. I was never forced to do anything I didn’t want to. She didn’t ask me to call her mom, but she always called me hers, as Rhys and Cassian were hers. They took me to therapy, to doctors’ appointments. Gave me my space when I needed it, and with godly patience, showed me what it was to be affectionate.

“I love you,” I whispered to her and I heard her sigh. “And I’m sorry… You didn’t deserve this.”

“You’re here now,” she said, reminding me of Elain. “That’s what matters.”

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Las Octavitas is basically more Christmas celebration in Puerto Rico. 

The cuatro is smaller than a guitar and sounds like this. That song in the link is also what I imagined Rhys singing with his family. ;) 

Everyone knows what coquito is right? If not, it’s a rum and coconut drink made every holiday season. It’s a must. 

Hermanito literally means little brother. sometimes shortened to “manito” jsyk

Viejo means old man. In this instance, an endearing way to say dad. 

lol Sangano means idiot. There are plenty of colorful ways to insult Grayson in Spanish but we’ll keep it pg.

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@dreamerforever-5 @fireheart-of-your-dreams

Happy Three Kings’ Day!

[my-fanfic-soul]

No Need to Regret: Chapter 26

From the Beginning

A small hand wrapped around mine as the plane started to bank, the pressure of it turning to start it’s decent pressing my stomach against my spine.  I took a deep breath, trying to keep the mediocre in-flight meals firmly in my stomach as I coached myself through the anxiety of landing.  I schooled my own face so that Olivia, who was terrified, wouldn’t know that I was just as scared.

“It’s almost over,” I assured her as I took in Bethany’s hands gripping her arm rests until her fingers were white.  Only Ethan, the certified adrenaline junky in the family, looked completely at ease, straining to see out the window at the ground growing large below us.  “There will be a bit of a bump when we touch down, but that’s it.  The pilots know what they’re doing.”

The flight had been a long one and I couldn’t put into words how happy I was that the plane was about to land, anxiety be damned.  The kids had been great, but a nine hour flight as your first flight was a lot to ask for anyone.  Near the end they had all started getting antsy and I’d had to squash a few squabbles, but I couldn’t blame them.  All I wanted to do was stretch my legs, get out of this seat, and take a shower.

Seeing Niall just felt like a bonus at this point.

“It’s just like a really long roller coaster,” a kinder older man from across the aisle offered supportively.  He had noted that nervous excitement before we took off and had kindly chatted with them while everyone was boarding.  As a more experienced flier, he was just trying to be nice.  He had no way of knowing they had never been on one of those, either.  The kids just nodded politely.

By the time the plane touched the ground, I thought Olivia was going to break my hand.  She whimpered quietly when the plane bounced and rocked back and forth, but as soon as the plane obviously had all wheels on the ground, she relaxed.

“Don’t unbuckle yet, but make sure you have everything together,” I told them as I started running a mental tally of everything that had come out of my own carry on and making sure it wasn’t floating around in my seat or under my feet.  The second the plane reached the gate and the fasten seat belt sign turned off, Olivia was up out of her seat, backpack over her shoulder as she bounced excitedly.  There was nothing nervous about it anymore, it was just energy.

“You have to be patient,” Bethany told her knowingly, even though her own backpack was already in her lap and she was sitting at the edge of her seat.  Olivia stuck her tongue out at her, but that was all she did.

To be fair, it was the happiest I had ever felt about standing up when it was finally our turn to get out of our seats.

Olivia looked up as we were getting off and asked, “Is he going to be waiting for us?”

I put a hand on her back to keep her moving forward so we wouldn’t get in people’s way.  “Nope, I’m afraid not.  He had work stuff this morning, but he’s supposed to be meeting us for lunch.”

“How are we getting there?” Ethan asked, hoisting his backpack up higher on his shoulder.

“He has a driver coming to pick us up.”

Olivia looked perplexed.  “He pays someone to just… drive him around?”

Ethan looked equally confused.  “And you wouldn’t let him pay for us to ride in first class?”  He had been annoyed when I told him we were flying economy at my request and hadn’t really given it up, yet.

“No, he doesn’t just pay someone to drive him and his friends around.  This is only because logistically he can’t pick us up.  It’s like calling a cab, you can set up a time in advance.  The driver will pick us up at the airport, drive us to the restaurant, and then leave.  This isn’t the musical Annie.”

I kept Olivia close to my side while we made our way to baggage claim and then through customs.  She let go of my hand when the sign “FREEMAN X4” being held by a middle-aged man came into view, awe in her voice as she said, “Is that for us?”

I couldn’t help but grin at the excitement in their eyes.  “Yep, looks like it probably is.”  It was a small touch, probably not even one Niall had planned, but from the looks on their faces it meant a lot to the kids.  It was good for them to feel special from time to time.

A quick conversation confirming who we were, and we were being led out the door and to a waiting car.   “This is so weird,” Bethany muttered as the car pulled into traffic on the left side of the road.  I didn’t disagree, being on the wrong side of the road was disorienting.  It felt like we were preparing to drive into oncoming traffic.

We hadn’t much more than gotten out of the airport before Ethan was pointing at a row of houses, all connected with little to no front yard, and saying, “Their houses are so weird.  Are they all like that?”

“A lot of them,” the driver said cheerfully.  “Less expensive building that way.”

Ethan still looked surprised.  “There’s space between the houses in Harry Potter,” he muttered quietly and it took everything in me to not laugh out loud.

Next it was Bethany excitedly pointing out a bus in front of us.  “The red double decker’s are real?!”

There was a collective note of surprise as we passed what Ethan declared was, “the fanciest McDonald’s ever.”  I was glad they were here with me for my first trip to the U.K., their innocent fascination with what seemed normal to everyone around us was nice.  The driver was more than polite, answering questions from curious kids and doing a convincing job of not thinking we were dumb Americans.

When we got to the restaurant, instead of dropping us off on the street, he pulled into a little alleyway with only a few parked cars.  I was about to question it when I saw Niall step out of his Land Rover.  In a second, all the tension I had been carrying drifted away.  I didn’t remember unbuckling or getting out of the car, but I sure as hell remembered Niall’s smile widening as I rushed towards him.

His arms were around me and his voice was in my ear as he whispered, just for me to hear, “I’m so happy you’re here, love.”  As soon as he let go of me, he was scooping Olivia into a hug.  “Hey, kiddo,” he greeted her before planting her feet back on the ground and reaching for Bethany and Ethan at the same time.  “How was the flight?”

“Olivia watched the same movie three times,” Ethan said.

“Yeah, but it’s not like you could hear it.  You had your own screen and headphones,” Niall said simply.  How quickly he had managed to deflect that one was impressive.  Ethan had definitely said it with the full intent of riling up Olivia.  Niall opened the tailgate on his car, seemingly not noticing that the twelve year old was looking at him flabbergasted, most likely not thinking that Niall would so effortlessly thwart his plans.  Niall looked up and said, “Ethan? Help me with the luggage?”

Between Niall, Ethan, and the driver it was only a work of a minute to get all four suitcases and carry on bags shoved into the back of the car and once the driver was on his way. Niall led us back around to the front of the cafe.  A few words were exchanged with the woman who greeted us and we were being led to the back of the cafe to a table as far from the windows as we could be.  Even with that precaution, Niall instructed the kids to sit with their backs facing the street.

“How’s Noah?” he asked once we were all seated and our drinks ordered.

“Bummed he couldn’t come along,” I told him as his hand pressed into my thigh gently.  He knew that I hadn’t felt right leaving him behind. “Baseball’s more important right now, though.  He couldn’t miss the game this week and he knew that.  He’s staying with Brad so he doesn’t have to drive as far, so that’s nice.”

Olivia piped up with, “He’s getting to spend time with Levi and none of the rest of us have even met him yet.”  She was referring to our newest nephew who had just made his grand entrance last week.  Sarah was grateful for another set of hands to help with Jonah, so he wasn’t causing them undue stress.

I had been nervous about how awkward things might be without the buffer of a Christmas party this time, but Niall was a natural at getting them to talk to him about school and the trip here.  Even Ethan was enthusiastically recounting a goal he made in PE last week during a soccer match.  This was only adding to my theory that Niall could make friends with a brick wall.

When our food had been dropped off, Niall turned to me and asked, “Did you have anything that you wanted to do today?”

Originally there had been plans.  There was a museum I had wanted to go to, something relaxed but got us up and moving around.  I didn’t want to waste a moment of this opportunity to expose the kids to something besides Houston, but I hadn’t really counted on sitting on my ass for nine hours being so exhausting.  Niall noted the look on my face, the guilt mixed with a deep desire to just relax on a comfortable couch.  “The museums will still be there tomorrow. London isn’t going anywhere overnight.  I’m sure you’re all tired, so we can just go back to my place and relax for today.”

I was grateful when Bethany said, “That sounds great. I barely slept on the plane.”  Olivia echoed her own lack of sleep, but it was Ethan that I was watching.  He had slept on and off for most of the flight, so he wasn’t tired.  To top that off, he wasn’t normally the type to enjoy just sitting around when there was an opportunity to do more.  I was shocked when he reluctantly nodded in agreement, but I went with it.

---

The adrenaline started wearing off a bit towards the end of lunch, with Livy’s eyelids slowly becoming heavier and heavier.  As we headed towards the car, Niall leaned down and whispered in my ear, “Did you sleep at all?” I shook my head and his hand rubbed my back, “Of course you didn’t.”

As we drove, Niall pointed out things like his favorite shops and kept a running commentary on traffic. He kept us laughing with his explanations on the British obsession with roundabouts and saying that traffic is the main reason he’d take his chances walking and riding the tube most of the time.

“Wouldn’t the sidewalks just be full if everyone walked?” Olivia asked, her curious eyes following someone with rainbow dreads.

“Aye,” Niall agreed. “They do get packed, but it’s easier and safer to dodge a human than to dodge a car.”

“Chicken…” Ethan muttered in a stage whisper and everyone, including Niall, laughed again.

The kids asked questions the entire drive and Niall never hesitated to answer them, even if they seemed a bit silly, like when Ethan asked if cars worked differently because they drove on the left instead of the right side of the street.  He didn’t laugh until Olivia, eyes wide enough to reflect the high rise in its entirety, asked as Niall turned into the drive for an underground parking garage, “Woah! Is this your house?!”

He chuckled as Bethany asked, “You have your own parking garage?”

“No, this isn’t just mine.  I have a flat, way up near the top.  Tons of other people live here.”

“So, you have roommates?”

His eyes were glittering at their obvious confusion, but he controlled it well.  “No, I don’t.  It’s like what your sister lives in, an apartment building.  There’s a couple of flats per floor, we don’t all live together.  It’s just me in my flat.”

Ethan’s voice was quiet as he muttered, “This isn’t like any apartment I’ve ever seen…”

“They have some in Austin and Houston like this,” I told him as Niall pulled into a spot.  “We’ve just never been in them.”

Once everyone was out of the car Niall pulled out all of the luggage, keeping mine and Olivia’s suitcases in his hands.  “Come on, lift’s this way.”

“What’s a lift?”

Niall had every reason to start getting annoyed.  Olivia and Ethan were questioning every minor difference between small town Texas life and this, but he continued to be the sweetest he could be, patiently answering their questions.  “You call them elevators in the states.”

“Oh, good,” Livy sighed.  “I thought were going to have to climb stairs to get there.”

Shaking his head with another chuckle, Niall tapped in another access code before walking into a grand foyer.  “Hey, Albert,” he greeted a man sitting behind a desk who waved back.  Quieter, as he ushered everyone onto the lift, he said, “That’s Albert, he’s one of the security team for this building.  There’s always someone around the clock.  They watch out for anyone being shady, but they won’t give you trouble while you’re here.”

The second Niall opened his door, the kids exploded in admiration.  Even I turned to Niall and said, “Wow, this is really nice, Irish.” Everything was modern and clean, just like Niall had told me he liked to decorate his bachelor pads, but there was still something that felt familiar about it.  It was very Niall, even without the picture frames filled with photos of Niall’s travels and some of his concerts.  The most Niall part was definitely the guitar placed conveniently next to the couch.

The most impressive part, the bit that had all of us gravitating towards it, was the floor to ceiling windows that showcased a wonderful view of the city.  Olivia turned to look at him, awe in her eyes as she declared, “I can’t believe you live here!”

Niall replied simply, “I can’t either.”  My heart softened at the look on his face, but he didn’t pause for sentimentality.  He moved towards a small hallway on the other side of his kitchen.  “Beth, Liv, you’re going to be sharing a room over here.  Sorry, Ethan, but you’re going to be on the couch.  I’ve only got two bedrooms in this place.”

Livy looked up at me, pure innocence as she asked, “Where are you going to sleep, Keni?”

I could feel my face turning three different shades of red as Bethany coughed to cover up a laugh.  Looking up, I saw the back of Niall’s neck was as red as I felt.  “I’ll be sleeping in Niall’s room.”

“But he’s a boy!” she argued and I could feel the heat radiating off of my face as I started steering her towards the room her and Beth would be sharing. I hadn’t really considered the fact that our own family’s beliefs or not, she had been raised in the conservative south.  Even at seven she wasn’t too young to have been exposed to those expectations.

“Yes, he is,” I told her, mouthing an apology to Niall as I pushed her into the bedroom.  He looked like he wanted to be anywhere else.  “And we’re dating, so we’re going to be sharing a room.”

“You aren’t married,” Olivia pressed, not bothering to keep her voice down at all.  From the living room I could hear Bethany guffawing and Ethan snickering.

“We are not and that’s ok.”

Niall regained his footing and I heard him tell the other two, “Alright, real funny.  Go unpack your suitcases and make yourself at home.  Ethan, there’s a closet over here you can hang your shirts in and you’re all sharing a bathroom, so you can put your shower stuff in there.”

“But Jessica Gates says…” Liv started

Of course, the child that loves to parrot her dad’s sermons was the one that Olivia had decided to latch onto.  “Jessica Gates can say whatever she pleases.  There’s nothing wrong with two adults sharing a room, rather they’re married or not.  Which side of the closet do you want your shirts and dress hung on?”

It took some more deflection before I finally got her distracted enough to drop the subject of where I would be sleeping.  I left Beth to help her get the room settled for a week and headed back into the living room to check on Ethan.  I found him sitting next to his suitcase looking sheepish and on edge.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

His voice was quiet, but defensive, like he was waiting for me to yell at him so he could yell back as he said, “I forgot my toothbrush.”  I didn’t say anything, taming my own frustration as I remembered calling up the stairs at my dad’s house that they needed to double check to make sure they had all their toiletries.  “I don’t have any underwear, either.  I forgot it in the dryer.”

Great. Perfect. I couldn’t help but immediately think he had done this on purpose.  He had been so deliberate in trying to push buttons, trying to get me to react, lately that I couldn’t help myself.  Made even more frustrating by the fact that he had seemed to be doing so well today while we traveled.  He had been in good spirits and had even helped with the suitcases without being asked at the airport.

I had just wanted things to go smoothly.  For this trip to be what his spirit needed and for Niall to see the good side of all three of them while we were here.  Selfishly, part of me was wondering why the attention of getting to go to another country wasn’t enough.  Why did he have to get in trouble when he was already getting more attention than he would at home?

But looking at him now, I saw the embarrassment in his eyes and I felt guilt bite at my gut.  He was being confrontational now because he was trying to mask his own embarrassment at having left behind things that were so important.  No twelve year old wanted to tell his sister that he had forgotten his underwear in an entirely different country.  Taking a deep breath, I said, “Alright, after we rest up, I can take you to try and find some new ones.”

“I’m not tired.  We can go now.”

I sighed, “I know, but you slept on the plane.  I did not. We can go later.”

“But my teeth feel gross now!”

I could relate.  I really could.  All I wanted to do more than nap was change my clothes and brush my teeth.  I could hear our sisters already freshening up a bit.  Being on a plane made you feel gross and intercontinental flights were even worse. I felt like falling asleep on my feet, but I also knew that Ethan was going to take it personally if I didn’t try to accommodate him.  Normally, I would hold my own, but I didn’t want to expose Niall to Hurricane Tweenager this early in the trip.  He was embarrassed about forgetting his things and I was embarrassed by his attitude lately.  On top of that, I felt guilty that I had expected the worst of him and I didn’t know how to make up for it.

Niall cut in, I hadn’t even noticed him standing in the kitchen that opened out into the room.  “I can take you,” he offered, reaching for the jacket he must have just taken off.  “Your sisters can sleep and I’ll drive you to the shops.  I know where everything is, anyway.”

“You don’t have to do this,” I whispered as Niall moved over to where I was standing, his hands casually in his pockets.  The look he gave me told me was one of deliberately oblivious innocence.

Out loud, he said, “It’s not a problem, really.  You’re dead on your feet, Kendra.  I’ve got this.”  I felt guilty for foisting Ethan on him right now, when the effects of international travel were obviously starting to catch up with him.  But I was tired and I knew that if we went off while I was already agitated, that Ethan and I were just going to feed off of each other.

Finally, I relented, “If you don’t mind, I’d really appreciate it.”

---

The boys gone, I checked in on the girls, and then retreated into Niall’s room.  I had seen it enough over FaceTime, but I think even if I hadn’t, I would know this was Niall’s room.  It smelled like him and it gave off an aura that was as familiar as Niall was.  The golf clubs sticking out of the closet were a bit of a dead giveaway, too.

While I brushed my teeth I couldn’t help but think that it was probably a good thing that the house in Texas was going to have two separate sink spaces.  I would never describe myself as messy, but standing in Niall’s bathroom, I knew we were on a completely different level of “clean.” Everything was in its place and there wasn’t a single water mark anywhere to be seen.  I was very conscious about not leaving a trace of toothpaste in the sink when I was done. I could only hope that years of traveling with other boys had prepared him for having three kids in his house for a week.

Back in his room, I dropped down on top of the comforter, noting that it felt like I was cuddling with five hundred of his jackets.  He was going to be lucky if I didn’t smuggle one of these pillows home with me, they were the most comfortable things I’d ever put my head on.  The mattress, though, was still a little too soft.

That did nothing to affect my ability to nap, though.  After barely sleeping Thursday night and not sleeping on the plane at all, I think I could have fallen asleep on a cheap, half inflated air mattress with little to no complaint.  I was dead to the world until I heard the soft click of the bedroom door gently closing.

I sat up in a rush, confused by the haze of a long nap until Niall’s smirk came into better focus.  “It’s just me, love,” he teased as he moved across the room.  “It is my house after all.”

“How could I forget?” I replied.  “Your bathroom looks like it’s ready to be on the front cover of some magazine at any minute.”  I watched as he went to his closet and started pushing shirts aside and taking out hangers.  It occurred to me that I had fallen asleep before I had hung up the things that I didn’t want to get wrinkled.

As I quietly started slipping things onto the hangers Niall was handing me, I asked, “How was shopping with Ethan?  He didn’t give you any trouble, did he?”

Niall shook his head as he sat down on the bed, reclining back on his palms as he watched me.  “No, he was great.  I don’t think he’s used to me enough to be deliberately rude, to be perfectly honest.”  Absently, he straightened a crease out of one of my shirts.  “I’ve had more talkative company, but he was helpful with picking out some snacks and the like for while you’re here.  He’s more attentive than he wants to admit.  He could tell me exactly what each of you would like.”

“He is a sweet kid.”  The guilty feeling was back.  I hated that my immediate thought was that he was going to get into trouble or say something rude.  I wanted to be able to blame it on me being cranky from being tired today, but a small part of me knew that today wasn’t the only day I had jumped to those conclusions.  I couldn’t blame it on a long day of traveling.

One of his thumbs caressed down my arm, pulling me out of my thoughts before Niall stood up, collecting the pile of clothes on hangers to go put in his closet.  “I know he is.  Life’s just stupid hard and he’s got the short end of the stick so far.” His eyes caught mine, holding them as he said, “Things have been hard for all of you.  Your heart’s in the right place, Kendra.  You can’t always be perfect.”

I turned back to my suitcase, making sure everything else was folded up neatly before I zipped it back closed.  “I just want things to be good while we’re here.”

“This doesn’t mean things won’t be good while you’re here.  Keni, that was barely anything at all.  Traveling is rough, but this trip will be good for all of you.  I have a brother, I know what it’s like.  You don’t have to pretend that you’re all some perfect sitcom family.  Now that you’ve had some rest you’re going to go back to being the fair person I know you are.”

“You’re probably going to regret saying that, and inviting us, after you have to listen to Ethan and Bethany going at each other’s throats.”

Soft fingers brushed against my chin, turning my head so I was looking directly into Niall’s eyes.  “I’m not going to regret anything. I’m really glad you’re here, Keni.” My heart melted as his face leaned closer to mine, but before he made contact he stopped and smirked.  He leaned back a bit, so he could see my reaction as he said, “Are you sure we should be kissing?  I don’t think Jessica Gates would approve.”

“Niall…”

“No, no, no,” he teased, pulling farther away while I glared.  “I don’t want to get in the way of your being right with Jesus and the pastor.”

Fingers bunched around the front of his shirt, I pulled him to me with a bit more force than I had intended as I growled, “Oh, shut up and just kiss me.”

I didn’t have to tell him twice.

Master List

Chapter 27

[itsnotconnected]

The Heist || Part 4

Suzy looked up from her book. The medic gave it to her after the third time she asked if Ray was ok. The medic was standing there. Ray was stable. She didn’t immediately sigh in relief. There was something else.

Ray flat lined once during the surgery. It wasn’t very long. He was good now but he wasn’t waking up.

Suzy didn’t give him a reaction. Inside she was screaming but he didn’t need to know that. She was an harden criminal. She had seen so many people die that it shouldn’t affect her. She just asked to see him.

In her head she wanted to pretend this was another test for the crew. it’s not the first time someone had got shot but this was the first time she was this close to it. Or it was a prank. Ray and Ethan pulled stuff like this. she was usually in on it.

When she got to him it was almost heart breaking. Looked like he was dead. She kept her face straight. Being a criminal how had this never come to her mind.

She stayed with him for the week.

The whole crew was still on lock down. She hadn’t heard from anyone but was secured in this makeshift med center. She wouldn’t go against Rosanna and let any tech that connected to an outside source within 100 blocks of this area. Ray hadn’t moved. He should have been up long ago. She spent her time reading more book and writing how the heist went down. Trying to figure out where it went wrong.

Felix, her and Joey were the ones to go into the high end Bank. Traffic and civilians had been diverted but Ethan’s methods. Feliz led and Joey and Suzy waked behind them with their guns in hands. She was to go directly behind the counter and gather the money while Felix blew his way into the vault. Joey was to keep the few employees and customers tied up and silence.Sometimes he had an entertaining battle with the security guards but they didn’t try him today.

Suzy collected all the loot and went back to the main area to put the bags down. the shake from the explosive cued Suzy to go to the vault. Felix was laughing at the money going everywhere. Suzy shook her head and helped him collect the money, Ro checked in and everyone said they were ok.

Then a shot rang out. Then the alarm started blaring Then a few more shoots rang out.

Joey said it was a security guard that shot the window but he put him down. Ethan said he was listening in on scanners. Ro told Ray to look out and for them to get out of there. They had three minutes at least.

Thirty seconds later Ethan said the call was made and cops were on there way. two minutes. Ten seconds later Ray said he heard sirens.

They got as much money as they could as was at the door in the next twenty seconds. Ro was the driver of a van on the side of the building. They needed to make it her. After the money was securely in book bag on their back they pulls out the guns are started shooting there way out the front door. Ray was picking off the one with the most skills and clearing a way. It still seemed like the trio was pinned down but then Ro’s van came barreling through a few police cars. The distraction allowed them time to escape. Ray still shooting off rounds setting off an explosion or two. Suzy was in the thrill of a lifetime but she had to get away. She went to get her bike when it was her opportunity. She got on it and speed off.

Ro and said she sped off with Felix and Joey said he was gone too. It seemed the unexpected bak up plan went off but good until Ray said he had been made and he was in an alley being chased. Joey said he couldn’t get to him like planned. Suzy huffed and joked that she would be his knight and shinning amour.

She loss the cops that was chasing her and met up to pick him up. He hopped on quickly and they sped. The cops caught up to them again but this time. Suzy made sure she was getting through traffic easily. The cops were shooting but she was expertly dodging them. What she couldn’t avoid was the helicopter that was giving away her location. Before she could yell it to Ray the man was already aiming for it and shot the pilot. a shot she would swear was impossible. But then again this crew only dealt with the best. He sat down and cheered loudly. She rolled her eyes and headed for their spot. Everyone checked in on the coms when they were cleared.

Ethan cut the connection and they all met up at the spot to change cars. When they got there Everyone was loading guns into one van and the loot in the trunk of the car. Suzy stopped her bike and waved. “That was fun.”

“Fun that was fucking awesome!” Felix said after throwing his bag in a trunk. We got a million and a half.” He claimed.

Suzy laugh and shifted to stand on her bike. She felt Ray lean off her her then a thump. Everyone paused and saw him on the ground she felt her jacket and it was covered in blood. When did he get hit?

Suzy was still sitting by his side. Of course a cop shot him. Not sure when. Maybe his foot chase or the bike chase. His adrenaline was kept his from feeling the pain. He even shot a helicopter.

The only only other thing was how the police got to them so fast. They should’ve escaped without worry. But instead the cops were around the corner. So someone had tipped them off. She spent most of the time jotting down who tipped them off. It had to be someone in the crew. This was there biggest heist. They all could’ve been captured. But to know the time and place meant it was an inside job. Someone in the crew wanted them dead.

She could simply just kill everyone on her list. It would take care of the problem.But Felix probably wouldn’t agree. Maybe Rosanna would have a better idea.

Suzy heard the main door to the ware house opened. Apparently they were here to finish the job. She grabbed her gun and started to head towards there. She wanted to confront this person away from her crew member.

She went carefully through the sheets quietly hearing whispers. It was a team. She was going to have to careful.

“How did he shoot a plane out of the sky while shot?” The first voice or Felix asked

“I don’t know but first we need to make sure he is ok?” The second voice or Rosanna asked.

“Ray is always ok” Clearly Joey said.

It was them. She pulled back one of the sheets and revealed herself. They all pulled guns on her and she rolled her eyes. “I could’ve killed you all first. He is this way.” She said and walked back through the sheets. She heard the footsteps of them following her. She stopped when she got to Ray and all sat back down.

She tried not to watch as they all checked up on him. They were reading the medics notes since Suzy didn’t allow him to stay. After ten minutes Felix came to check on her.

“I’m better than Ray at least, I’ll save my grief until he is actually dead. Which he isn’t. But We have a mole and I have a list. I figure we can’t just kill them all.” She gave him the list.

Funny. Rosanne said the same thing. You two have few of the same people. I might make you my left hand now. Ro look at this. “ Felix said.

Rosanna came come and examined the list. She looked pretty pleased. “I knew I wasn’t paranoid. It was the cops response time wasn’t it?”

Suzy nodded agreeing.

“No one messes with our crew. You should help me track these people down.”

“I want to kill them all. But I assure we have a better plan for this.”

“Killing them all shows weakness. Like revealing how people get under our skin. That vulnerability is only for the person that got him shot. It be the last thing they live through. So good plan giving them to me. And keeping Ray safe.” Suzy smirked.

They were interrupted by Ray gasping and sitting up. Rosanna and Suzy looked at the bed surprised but relieved.

“How did you?” Suzy asked.

“Joey said he wasn’t awake because he was being lazy about recovering and it was annoying. I told him he wasn’t so we held his blocked his breathing and then his eyes popped opened. I let go immediately.” Ethan admitted. Joey looked with a big mouth and hot Ethan.

Rosanna shook her head.

Suzy laughed. “I’ve been keeping him alive and safe trying to wake him up and you guys do it by almost killing him. Great.” She said and laughed.

“So yeah. I’m glad my deaths are funny to you.” Ray said after swatting away Joey and Ethan.

“You’re the love of my life. Everything you do is funny to me.” Suzy joked.

“Shut up.” Ray said shaking his head.

Even after everything she was sure she was in the right place.

[dong-hyucks]

fear is our enemy. | na jaemin [2]

➳ genre. spy!au, future!au, angst, minor fluff ➳ warnings. mentions of blood and death, character death in later chapters, swearing ➳ word count. 4k+ ➳ author’s note. it’s been two weeks forgive me i am slower than a snail when it comes to writing // also no, this isn’t the certain post i told you guys to expect;) - admin. jade ➳ synopsis. [Y/N] Park, the adopted daughter of late director Park Minjun, crosses paths with Na Jaemin, a spy known for his aloof tendencies. 

➳ masterlists. | 1. | 2. | 3. | 4. | 5. | 6. | 7. | 8. | 9. | epilogue. 

   You found yourself staring out the circular window in awe as the plane got closer and closer to the ground. The scenery caught your breath between it’s nimble fingers, taking it away as everything came into view. Across from you, Jaemin lay completely still, oblivious to the astounding beauty that was a mere hundred metres from you. His quiet snores went ignored on your behalf, you being far too enamoured with the large city. It surprised you, how easily he fell asleep on an hour long flight. Not that you minded anyway, the peace and quiet -- aside from his snores -- was useful for concentrating on getting into character. You had even put on some makeup, nothing too heavy; some eyeshadow and lipstick is all.

   Your view soon reached eye level as the plane came to a full stop. You glanced over to the private airport, another building owned by NCT. You glanced away from the window for but a moment, snorting at the sight of Jaemin sleeping in such an uncomfortable position, what with most of his limbs hanging off the edge of his seat, his remaining arm pulled over his face in an attempt to block out the bright lights of the plane’s interior.

   Reaching over, you nudged his leg with your foot. He ended up rolling over and falling off of his seat, much to your amusement. “Oh, shut up,” he groaned groggily as he awoke, glaring over at you for laughing. “Are we here?” Not even waiting to hear your answer, he sat up and stared out the window, pushing you away from it with his hand.

   “There are other windows, you know.”

   “Does it look like I care?”

   You mimicked him, deadpanning afterwards as you pulled out your phone. 21:19. You stood from your seat, dusting off imaginary dust from your dress as you did. Adjusting your wig using the large, circular mirror that hung on a nearby wall, you cleared your throat. Jaemin glanced at you over his shoulder, raising a brow as if he were saying ‘what is it?’ “Let’s go,” you prompted, flicking a strand of false hair over your shoulder. Without a word, he nodded and trailed behind you as you stepped off the plane, with you quietly thanking the pilot who stood near the exit.

   You let in a deep breath, a small smile blooming across your features as you walked toward the building’s entrance. Jaemin took one look at your expression and let out what could hardly pass as even a chuckle. Ignoring his judgmentalness, you began to fiddle with the belt of your dress. Despite your excitement, there was an underlying feeling of fear consuming you as you reached the private airport. You knew that the mission could go wrong ever so quickly. You knew that either you or Jaemin, or even worse; the both of you, could be dead before even the snap of your own fingers.

   EXO was dangerous, that much anyone knew. Reading the criminal record of one member would be enough to terrify the average person, make them wary of their surroundings. Dealing with one member would be difficult. They’re sneaky. Ambiguous. Astute. You’d never know what they were thinking if you were to go face to face with any of them. You swallowed nervously. You weren’t dealing with one member, you were dealing with worse. You were dealing with an entire unit of them, and you had no clue as to where the others could be. Thoughts of ambush raised the hairs on the back of your neck.

   You knew what EXO was capable of. Oh, you knew very well. You’ve witnessed it, witnessed the things they do to people. You even knew one of the members personally-- knew being the keyword.

   You didn’t know him. Not now.

   The thought of him made you sick to your stomach. It must’ve been obvious because even Jaemin, the very man who had already shown you that he dislikes you a lot, to put it bluntly, looked over to you with a questioning expression. His way of showing concern, you guessed. You shook off the nasty feeling, remaining stoic as you made your way through the airport.

   To your surprise, Renjun and Jeno stood at the main entrance, speaking idly to one another. You chuckled, the sight of them in suits still not sticking to you. Despite having worked with them for several years now, you rarely ever saw them outside of their casual clothing. “Hey,” you called, effectively getting their attention. Jaemin stood stiffly behind you as they approached, both wearing warm smiles despite the guns strapped to their belts

   “Haven’t seen you in while,” Jeno grinned, holding out a fist for a fist bump. You rolled your eyes before reciprocating the action. Unlike him, Renjun engulfed you in his warmth, wrapping his arms around you in a hug. He gently pat the small of your back before letting you go, shooting you a gentle smile. Jeno looked you up and down, not used to your appearance, just as you had felt moments before with him and Renjun.

   Taking the words right out of his mouth, Renjun chuckled. “You look weird,” he stated, taking a sweep of your body just as Jeno had before, frowning in playful distaste. You snorted, hitting both of them behind the head, earning a chorus of ‘ow’s from them. You looked over your shoulder, realizing just how uncomfortable Jaemin looked. “Nana,” you called out, scrunching up your nose at the name. “These two are Agents 323 and 423,” you introduced, pointing to the two respectively. “Guys, this is Nana.”

   “Nice to meet you,” Jeno said, offering his hand. Jaemin merely nodded, not even sparing a glance at his outstretched hand. Coughing slightly, Jeno took back his hand, stuffing both of them into his pant pockets awkwardly. Renjun narrowed his eyes marginally, scrutinizing Jaemin. Not even bothering to say anything to him, Renjun turned to you and nodded toward the door.

   “There’s a car waiting for you two outside and your stuff has probably been transferred there already.” Ruffling his own hair, a habit he had grown to follow after spending stressful year after year in the agency, Renjun stared at you with a blank expression. “We’ll be staying at the same place as Byun and his friends, so we’ll be heading to the hotel in separate cars. We can’t have them knowing the four of us are together.” You nodded in understandment, heading out with Jaemin following closely behind.

   The cars were more than what you had expected. Two limousines were parked just outside the building’s door, both painted the sheerest of black. Two men stood outside the doors of both vehicles, two men that you recognized. “Sicheng, Kun,” you greeted. Kun sent you a smile whilst Sicheng merely nodded. The latter didn’t know you very well, and by extension, Jaemin -- then again, who did know Jaemin well? -- but Kun had once been a bodyguard in Seoul, your unit, before being transferred to Busan’s unit.

   Kun opened the door to his limousine, which you and Jaemin were soon entering. As the limo pulled away from the building, you could just barely see Renjun and Jeno going out and conversing with Sicheng from the side rearview mirror. Beside you, Jaemin sighed, fixing his rolled up sleeves as he visibly relaxed. “That ride was uncomfortable,” he mumbled, moving his neck this way and that way in an attempt to loosen his tense muscles.

   You rolled your eyes, “It was uncomfortable for you because you slept in such an odd position. You have no one there to blame but yourself.” Missing the way Jaemin glared at you, you leaned forward to talk with Kun, wanting to catch up from not seeing each other for so long.

   Jaemin stayed silent as you conversed with the driver, opting to stare out the window instead, eyeing the beauteous sights he had missed when he slept. When it had appeared that you were done talking, you having leaned back to rest against the beige leather interior, Jaemin looked at you from the corner of his eye. He had questions to ask, but felt as though he had no way to ask them. As curious as he was, the thought of speaking to you more than he had to already sounded rather galling.

   You happened to turn to him, catching him in the act of staring. He didn’t both to look away at first, looking disinterested as he looked at you. Finally, he went back to staring out the window. His expression irked you for some unfathomable reason, your eyes turning to slits as you burned holes in the back of his head. “What?” you barked, your right eyebrow twitching slightly in annoyance. Kun stared at you from the rearview mirror, not at all shocked with your behaviour. You were infamous throughout NCT and it’s many units for being one of a more reckless and brash character.

   Well, you couldn’t exactly deny it.

   Jaemin didn’t give you the satisfaction of an answer, straight up ignoring you. You held yourself back from going off at the man, trying to be civil with him since you had to spend the next several hours, maybe even days, with him. Finally, complete and utter silence hung in the air. Kun had no qualms with the fact, happily enjoying his music quietly as he drove to the hotel.

   Mere minutes away from the destination, Jaemin chose to speak up. “Is he always like that?”

   You looked up from your phone, deadpanning at him. “You’ll have to be more specific than that,” you sighed, “I know many people.” Jaemin rolled his eyes at you before making a comment about NCT’s president and leader, Taeyong. You thought back to when you had first met Jaemin and how coldly Taeyong had acted. Relating back to his question, you shook your head. “Behind that cold expression, Taeyong’s a soft-hearted soul, really.” You shrugged. “He gets really serious when it comes to work. Most people don’t know this, but when he was younger his personality matched that of an excited puppy.”

   A small smile played your lips as you thought back to several years ago, back when you didn’t have anything to do with NCT, other than your father being the head of the organization. Taeyong was the son of your father’s closest friend, the very man that was to be your father’s successor. Because of your father and his close friendship, you had met Taeyong at a young age. You had even dated at some point, that point being in your teenage years, when you didn’t exactly think everything through. The both of you had, needless to say, quickly realized you were better off as just friends.

   Back then, you and Taeyong were young and without a care in the world. Once his father died in a shooting incident, things changed. Your father’s successor had went from Taeyong’s father to him. Not surprisingly, he had accepted and was quick to start his formal training. Because of that, you didn’t have much time to spend together. You no longer stayed up to look at the stars until the sun had begun to shine its light over the land, its colours bleeding into the pitch black midnight sky. You no longer had study sessions together. His presence quickly left your being, and at first you were devastated. He was your best friend after all.

   After that, you rarely saw him, and when you did he was too exhausted to do anything with you. When your father passed, seeing Taeyong happened as often as the moon shone blue. It was only when you had been hired as an agent under NCT did you see him again. He had changed, not for the worse, but not for the better either. He was just different. It was weird to see him acting so aloof and cold, but overtime you got used to it.

   It took an entire year, but hey-- you did get used to it in the end.

   Jaemin blinked, his eyes tracing your features as if he were trying to find something. “What,” he surmised with a derisive laugh. “You like the pres?” Your head snapped toward him, obviously stupefied and moderately disgusted.

   “No,” you denied firmly. Jaemin pursed his lips, holding up his hands in defense.

   “It was just a question.”

   “A stupid question.”

   “You’re stupid.”

   You wore a straight face as you uttered your next few words, “What are you? Five?”

   Before Jaemin could even put together a proper response, Kun chuckled. “We’re here,” he announced, obviously amused by your quibbling. You looked out the window, and true to his words , right outside was the towering Lotte Hotel, its sign bright and slightly blinding against the darkness of the night. “Just go in and tell the receptionist your fake name. Taeyong had a room set up ahead of time.” You nodded, thanking Kun for the ride as you stepped out of the vehicle. Thankfully, you were getting used to walking in heels and you didn’t look completely idiotic as you bounded inside with Jaemin.

   The interior design for even the lobby was breathtaking, you had to stop yourself from staring at everything for too long. You didn’t even make it to the reception desk before Jaemin was tapping at your arm subtly. “Byun, three o’clock,” he murmured, keeping his eyes straight ahead. You glanced over, confirming Jaemin’s call. Baekhyun sat in one of the many juvenile chairs scattered around the lobby neatly, leaning back comfortably with his arms hung over the edges of the chair’s back. He sat across two men who you couldn’t identify, as their backs were facing you. Each of them were wearing typical black suits, clothes that fit them more than you were willing to admit.

   When he glanced up in your direction, you were quick to stay in character, not-so-subtly raking your eyes over his form. When you reached his face, you winked, feeling disgusted with yourself. You tried your hardest not to show your inner revulsion. It seemed to have worked, because Baekhyun smirked back at you, raising a brow challengingly.

   “Go check in,” you mumbled to Jaemin, not taking your eyes off of Baekhyun. “I’ll be right with you.” Jaemin looked at you, and in turn Baekhyun. Scoffing, he followed through with your wish and headed to the receptionist desk. You heard snippets of his conversation with the man behind the desk, mere idle conversation before Jaemin actually told him your ‘names.’ You, on the other hand, winked at Baekhyun in an attempt to lure him in. Your efforts weren’t for nothing, as you saw Baekhyun excuse himself before he confidently made his way over to you. Whilst he walked, you leaned against the pillar near you, swallowing thickly.

   “Hey,” he greeted with a sultry tone. You nearly gagged, instead offering him your best smile.

   “Hey there, yourself,” you responded, hoping you sounded flirty and not like a dying whale. Your hopes were answered when he let out a low chuckle.

   Peering into your eyes, Baekhyun tilted his head curiously. Despite his innocent manner, his eyes held a look much less than that of innocence. “I can’t help but notice you don’t sound too confident in yourself, Ms.” Baekhyun leaned closer, the smell of cigarettes infiltrating your olfactory sense instantly. “Is it because of,” now completely leaning against the pillar next to you, his face awfully close, Baekhyun gazed behind you at Jaemin. “--him?”

   You didn’t have to look to know who he was talking to. Faking a sigh, you nodded pitifully. “Being married to him was not in my best interest,” you confessed. “It’s like being tied to a hundred ton rock all of the time.” With a sly grin, you tilted your head back. “No freedom.”

   Baekhyun let out a chuckle, staring at you with a teasing grin. “Then it’d be my honour to untie you from that boulder,” moving his face alarmingly close to yours, he continued. “If you’ll let me.”

   You licked your lips nervously, a habit that benefitted you in that moment. Baekhyun’s eyes shot down to your lipstick-painted lips, watching as your tongue darted out to moisten them. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he quipped. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

   “Kim Hyonhui.”

   With a simple nod, Baekhyun pulled away. “Looks like he’s coming back,” he told you, appearing completely nonchalant as he watched Jaemin near. He looked back to you, “Expect a call soon, princess.”

   And with that, he went back to his friends.

   “What was that?” Jaemin asked as he walked up to you, his eyes trailing after Baekhyun suspiciously before returning to look at you. Noticing your slightly flustered expression, he scoffed. “Are you in love already?”

   You snorted with the shake of your head as you disdainfully snatched the keys from his grasp. “I’ve got to stay in character, Hansol.” Ignoring the way he flinched at your tone, you sighed. Without even waiting for him, you headed for the elevator. You glanced down at the key, tilting your head to read what had been engraved on it. 712. Shifting, you pressed the button to the seventh floor, Jaemin squeezing into the elevator just in the nick of time.

   Neither of you bothered to speak to one another, completely content with ignoring the other. When the elevator stopped, Jaemin let you exit first, a chance you took without hesitation. The both of you walked to the twelfth room in silence, the only sound being your shoes against the marble flooring.

   “It’s a Royal Suite,” Jaemin stated as you pushed the key into the designated door’s lock. You hummed in response, pushing the door open effortlessly. Upon seeing the luxurious room, both you and Jaemin froze in the doorway. Saying the room was nice would be an understatement. Plush carpet spilled into the room, covered with a divine and ever so delicately put together design. Two twin beds, each covered with satin green comforters with matching pillows, were pushed against the far wall of the first room. Juvenile chairs, similar to the ones in the lobby, were placed neatly in front of the beds, along with an expensive looking red sofa bed. There was a connected room, one that resembled a classy living room.

   No wonder they call it a Royal Suite, you mused in your head, finally stepping into the gorgeous room.

   You noticed two suitcases propped against the beds separately, recognizing one to be yours. You assumed the other suitcase was Jaemin’s, heading over to the one you recognized and opening it. Most of the clothes inside were generic, save for the neatly folded baby blue chiffon fabric that you believed was a dress. For tomorrow.

   “Go take a shower,” Jaemin prompted, unbuttoning the top few of his shirt’s buttons. Not bothering to reply, you did as he said, pulling out a pair of pyjamas and underwear before heading to the bathroom.

   It was Saturday, exactly 14:30, and you had run into a problem. Jeno and Renjun had called to inform you that the Seven Luck Casino only accepted foreigners with foreign passports. “Why did we not know of this before?” Jaemin had asked. Neither of the men, however, had a response.

   “If they only let in foreigners, how is Byun and his men able to get in?” you wondered out loud, furrowing your brows together. “They must have someone on the inside working for them. Maybe even multiple staff members-- they shouldn’t be able to go inside otherwise.”

   Jaemin nodded in agreement, siding with you for the first time since you’ve met. “Byun’s a different story from us, then. We’d have to find a way to get in and get Byun to hand over the documents,” he concluded, sounding as if it were as easy as that. You sounded your concerns, only for Jaemin to turn away without the single bat of an eyelash. “We could get synthetic masks and new passports. I saw a display with the masks back at HQ, and it’s not hard to obtain a false passport. We still have a few hours left before we go.”

   “You snooped around HQ?”

   “Is that all you got from that? Besides that, I was given a tour, thank you very much.”

   You shook your head, running a hand through your real hair. Before either of you could say much else, a knock sounded at the door. Jaemin went to get it, opening the door with a simple ‘hello.’ A man, the same man you had seen at the reception, was at the door. You glanced over Jaemin’s shoulder, reading the man’s nametag. Park Jungwoo, it read. Looking at the both of you with a gentle smile, Jungwoo held out a small card. “One of our clients has requested your presence tonight in the casino downstairs.”

   Jaemin cocked a brow, “My presence?”

   Jungwoo shook his head, correcting Jaemin. “Both of you, he has requested to see the both of you.” Once you took hold of the card, Jungwoo offered a small smile. “Then, I’ll be off. Enjoy your stay, Mr and Mrs Kim.” With the slightest of bows, he retreated down the hall and into the elevator.

   Once Jaemin closed the door, you read the card aloud. “Mr Byun Baekhyun has requested to see Kim Hyonhui and her husband Kim Hansol tonight at seven o’clock at the Seven Luck Casino located on the second floor. Please dress accordingly,” you read.

   Jaemin snorted, “Well, that solves one problem.” He shook his head at the sheer coincidence, taking the card from your hands and inspecting it. You merely nodded, exhaling deeply.

   An uneasy feeling began to bubble within you, making you feel queasy. Realization dawned upon you as you had read the card-- said his name. You felt a lump form in your throat.

   You were about to the members of EXO once again.

   Later that night, you and Jaemin made your way to the hotel’s casino. You were clad in the blue chiffon dress whilst Jaemin wore clothes similar to the ones he had worn the day before, this time with a simple black tie. You had flashed the card to the security guard stood out front, Wong Yukhei according to his nametag, along with showing him ‘your’ licence, proving that you and Jaemin were who you claimed to be.

   When you entered, the casino was buzzing with life. Foreigners from everywhere covered each corner, talking to each other loudly in their native languages, practically yelling to hear each other over the loud music. The room was well lit, with lights emerging from each supporting pillar. Whilst the casino itself wasn’t a big one by any means, it seemed to be popular, what with people rushing around everywhere.

   Soon enough you spotted Baekhyun and a few other men. This time, you could see their faces and easily identified them as Kim Minseok and Kim Jongdae. “Minseok’s the one with lavender hair and Jongdae’s the one with dark brown,” you informed Jaemin, knowing he’d be able to recognize Baekhyun from yesterday. Jaemin nodded, leading you over to where the sat, surrounding a rather large craps table.

   Meeting eyes with you, Baekhyun grinned a sickening grin. He gestured for you and Jaemin to come to where he sat, standing up as you neared. Minseok and Jongdae watched warily as the man greeted you and Jaemin as if he’s known you for years. “Thanks for accepting my invitation,” he said, squaring his jaw once he set eyes on Jaemin.

   Forcing a smile, Jaemin shook his outstretched hand. “Thank you for inviting us.”

   Turning to you, Baekhyun blatantly began to ignore Jaemin without a care. “You look beautiful,” he spoke with a honeyed voice, “Even more ravishing as you did yesterday, Hyonhui.” You smiled, resisting the urge to push him away as he took hold of your hands. Glancing back at the craps table, where people had begun to gather, Baekhyun looked Jaemin in the eyes.

   “Let’s make a deal, Kim Hansol.”

   Jaemin stared back defiantly, gesturing for him to continue. “Whoever has the highest win by the end of the night,” Baekhyun paused for dramatic effect, a smirk playing his lips like a violin.

   “-- gets to take Hyonhui back up to his room.”

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