#it's really sickening. it could have been a 10/10. but instead we got a 6/10. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bangtangalicious · 3 years ago

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death valley (m) | part 8

summary: welcome to death valley. once you’re in, there’s no telling whether you’ll make it out alive. a summer internship turns wild with blurry nights of dangerous men, dirty money, and extremely hot sex. you soon get caught in a savage game of greed, power and obsession, only to find out that you are the grand prize

pairing: ot7 x f.reader smut ft: jin x reader, jungkook x reader, taehyung x reader

genre: smut. yandere. mystery. thriller. gang!au rockstar!au fightclub!au

wordcount: 9.0k

warnings: reader discretion advised. rough sex, physical roughness, sadism kink, pain kink, breast play, fingering, elevator sex (semipublic), praise kink, dirty talk, unrealistic endurance (this is one day LMAO), attempted fire play, bondage, guns, attempted shootings, knife play if you squint, spanking, degradation (name calling, slut shaming, being really mean lolol thanks jin), crying kink? lot of crying, toxic and manipulative behaviors, jin steps on you so there’s that, character death, heavy drug use, paranoia/fear, voyeurism, sex while intoxicated, me trying to put some humor where i can, sweet dom!jungkook, wild dom!jin, and a sprinkle of dom!taehyung ;) ALSO eyebrowpiercing!jungkook. very important.

a/n: s/o soowoozoo!bts for being my inspo.

F L A S H F O R W A R D--

Goosebumps spread across your skin as the silence set in. The room was chilly, air conditioner buzzing in contrast to the slick humidity of the summer night waiting for you outside. The white light made your eyes ache, the walls were plain, dry, empty.

You stared blankly at the table in front of you. The sound of the pen scratching paper made you ache, remembering kinder days when you and Hobi would be goofing around and writing songs. How did you get here? How did you let this happen?

The previous night, you had dreamt of being at a concert, somewhere far from Death Valley. Losing yourself to music and molly, a soft pair of hands on your hips as you danced the night away, singing at the top of your lungs. Those same hands wrapping around your waist, nose tracing behind your ear to whisper to you how pretty you were. How hot you looked and how badly he wanted to tear your clothes off with his teeth.

You allowing him to pick you up so easily, take you back to his car where you scrambled into the back seat. Like children. The first kiss was magic, you were glued to him and could barely move on. He wouldn’t leave you for a second, he wouldn’t let you breathe. Your lips were hot on each other, soft moans and giggles. Swallowed smiles as you drank one another in, bodies like waves crashing against each other.

Hands wandering until he had you where he wanted. Where you wanted. He loved you down so incredibly good. How he was able to tear you apart while still being so sweet, you could barely even fathom. His teeth dug into the flesh of your breasts, fingers hooking around your panties.

His tongue ravished your figure. There was no part of you left untouched, no part of you that wasn’t completely ablaze with arousal. You would arch your neck back as he lapped away at the sweetness dripping between your legs, your hands combing through his wavy black hair.

His tongue knew where to go, he knew how you liked it, and your fist clenched as he fucked you with his mouth through and through. He always made sure you came first. Always. Every single time.

Whether you had mere minutes or long hours, he loved the way you tasted, making sure you knew that at every chance he got. Sloppy wet kisses traveled up your stomach to your chest, up your neck, hands caressing your ass, scratching your back, holding you close for a moment.

You were whisked away into heaven, just briefly, as his thick cock would push into you. Your pussy pulling him in, wanting to feel the familiar but oh so incredible stretch that only he gave you.

Taehyung. You sobbed as he fucked you, allowing him to kiss the glossy tears off of your cheeks as he rolled his hips, angling so perfectly to nudge deep within you. His sinister grin, his giggles, his chaos. You were in the hands of disaster but you never felt more safe.

Why are you crying dumbass? He would find your state amusing, continuing to fuck you, thrusts long and smooth. Quick, but slow enough for you to savor each second. Your whining lost behind the wet sound of your bodies colliding.

Where are you? Are you watching this right now? You’re not really dead are you?

Stroking your cheek, he leaned down to whisper against your mouth. The words he would keep on saying, echoing back to you. Play along. I won’t hurt you.

What exactly you were playing, you were unsure.

“Look at me” Your eyes darted up to meet Jin’s deceivingly innocent eyes. “I’m gonna ask you again, did you kill Kim Taehyung?”

You gulped, sweat collecting onto the cold handcuffs around your wrists. Jin glanced at the mirrored wall, before letting out a heavy sigh.

“It appears that Kim Taehyung was murdered about two hours before the party. We found your gun near the body.” Jin holds up the custom weapon Yoongi had given that was unmistakably yours. “Where were you at that time?” You felt your eyes getting heavy.

“I was” You lips were chapped, mouth clammy with a bitter taste. You looked him dead in the eye, stomach sickened by the amusement glistening within them as you struggled with your response. You knew he was getting a kick out of it. You wanted to spit on his face. You wanted to slap him, to scream, to flip the table and break out of the windowless room that caged you.

“I was with...y..” Jin smirked, leaning back. You cleared your throat, mind running a mile a minute.

“With who Y/n?”

You glared at him. He was treating this as some sort of role play. You felt queasy at the thought. Someone was dead. Dead.

“You. I was with you”

F L A S H B A C K--

The morning rays slid through the expansive glass wall of the hotel room, causing Yoongi’s eyes to flinch, squinting as they opened and took in the day that presented itself. He sighed heavily, the weight of the previous night still on his mind. You were still asleep, but he could see through the chaffing beneath your wrists that you were not comfortable. He took the leash and fastened it to the headboard, ensuring you had no escape.

Grabbing his keys, Yoongi quickly got dressed in a white hoodie and left the room. He needed to find out the truth for himself. He couldn’t afford to have you lying to him already.

It was so frustrating to him that you couldn’t just be honest with him. He had been immensely open with you even if he was not proud of what he had to share. Why would you hide things? Hadn’t he proven himself to you? Hadn’t he done everything to win your heart?

Yoongi sighed. His anger issues were core to his being. It was part of his true self, but he had spent years trying to become someone you would fall in love with. All he wanted to do was make home in your heart, but no matter how many of your suitors he ended up threatening, beating to a pulp, and forcing them to bail on you, there was nothing in his power that could tear down that goddamn Park Jimin poster on your bedroom wall.

There was nothing he could do to stop you from writing small fantasies in your journal that you kept stashed in your bedside drawer.

Yoongi would be lying if he said he didn’t come close to killing Jimin multiple times before. But he realized that would not have delivered him a solution. If Jimin died, you would mourn. You would still harbor that love for him and never have an opportunity to see what he really was. It was because of this Yoongi, with Taehyung’s helpful insight, had orchestrated a way to destroy Jimin in your eyes.

Jimin was then introduced to Yoongi’s two weapons of destruction, Taehyung and cocaine. Yoongi worked hard to build himself up as a successful music producer. He had to be better than Jimin, had to make sure he could offer you everything Jimin could and more.

To his surprise, you did move on from Jimin, at least the reality of him. But this fantasy of who he used to be remained pinned to your heart. After Jimin quit music, the mention of his name would still cause you to blush and smile. It made Yoongi want to throw up.

You had to see for yourself. Yoongi learned what it was that attracted you to Jimin and embodied just that. You liked that you had to chase him, you liked that he didn’t give a shit about you. You liked that he never noticed you and you had to pine for his attention. You liked that he was dedicated to his music, you liked the lifestyle he was associated with. You liked his lack of emotion and fantasized of him showing his true colors to you and only you, a sensitive, sweet, charming guy. Anger was not a part of this persona at all.

When he felt like he had driven Jimin crazy enough with the drugs, he decided to plant rumors on stan twitter that Jimin would be signing with his label. Using his personal relationship with the singer, he was able to sign him on. He conveniently then offered you a summer internship, knowing full well you would be coming for one reason alone. Park Jimin.

Yoongi wanted you to fall straight into his arms. He rented out every available apartment for the months you were searching for a place to live, forcing you to reside in his building. He wanted to win you over naturally. He wanted you to work with Jimin, hook up with Jimin, and end up loathing him. Loving Yoongi instead.

Jimin’s gang activity was getting on Yoongi’s nerves. Taehyung told him Jimin was in Death Valley, that you saw Jimin at Death Valley. When Yoongi heard from you, not Taehyung, that you had been kidnapped, along with Namjoon nonetheless, Yoongi had enough. He was used to giving Taehyung plenty of unsupervised jurisdiction, so Jimin’s accident was not a surprise to him.

But you sympathized with Jimin, which was not what he wanted. He then decided to take things into his own hands, threatening Seokjin into throwing the fight to leech Jimin of every cent he had. He broke into your apartment, fucking everything up so that you had no choice but to come to him. To need him.

And when Jin didn’t lose, he had no choice but to reveal to you who he was. Even after all his honestly, all his trust, you still lied to him.

Yoongi was furious. He arrived at Death Valley, using the front entrance. Pulling a mask over his face, he barged in, surveying the silence as a sign that the bar was empty. Through the kitchen he arrive at the back storage room, accessible only by key, where all of the surveillance had been set up years ago.

Monitors were spread across the wall, but Yoongi’s eyes narrowed in at one that was coming up with no feed. Your apartment. Someone had fucked with the cameras. Yoongi types away at the main monitor, enlarging your apartment footage and reeling back to find the moment the device was destroyed.

He sees Taehyung, whispering something to you. Next thing he knows the stream is blank. He grits his teeth, as all the pieces fall into place. He was a fool. How could he have been so blind? Taehyung must be in love with you. He must have, after watching you for so many years. Yoongi scowled at the thought of the ways Taehyung may have seen you, naked, vulnerable, ways that only he should.

He had trusted Taehyung. Taehyung had only ever shown interest in money and Yoongi thought that was enough. Taehyung must have fucked you over and over again once the cameras were dead. What a whore. It made sense then that he had cut the line through his branding on you. He was the only one who could have. He had access to you and he was psychotic! He must have forced you to lie. You wouldn’t ever hide anything from Yoongi, no, Yoongi was the man of your dreams. You felt grateful that you had him, didn’t you?

He tilted his head, cracking his knuckles before he punched the glass screen, causing the feed to go haywire and sparks to erupt. Kim Taehyung. You are dead to me.

Yoongi growled lowly before picking up his phone. “It’s me. I need to see you. Now”

Hobi kept his hand on the small of your back as he led you down to the hotel bar. The two of you nodded politely at the staff members who were busily preparing for the big event. The bar was empty aside for a few guests enjoying their brunch-time mimosas.

Hobi couldn’t really revel in the fact that the two of you were getting drinks together, almost like a date. His mind was too caught up in the initial shock he felt when he saw you tied up in his boss’ bedroom. He felt upset, but moreso he felt violated. He wondered if you were getting taken advantage of. Did he promise you a promotion? Was he manipulating you?

Punishing someone like that, Hobi was never one to kink shame, but it seemed a bit much. The name burned into your skin did nothing to ease his concern. Someone who was possessive, violent, impulsive. It reminded him of...

Hobi didn’t know. He didn’t know who gave him orders. He really didn’t care once the cash rolled in, but it began hitting too close to home. He wasn’t thrilled about hurting Namjoon, but two duffel bags of cash were enough for him to momentarily set aside his morals.

“What should I get?” You surveyed the small menu of cocktails. “What’s gonna fuck me up the fastest?”

Hobi snorted, “Tequila” He twirled your hair as your gaze remained glued to the menu. The thought of you being in danger upset him greatly “Y/n...when did Yoongi brand you?" You called the bartender ordering a line of shots to which the they glanced at the clock before giving you a weird look.

“The night of the rematch” You told him, reacting before you realized what you had said. Your lip tucked between your teeth as you tried to conjure an excuse. A row of shot glasses was placed in front of you. You took one, gulping it down before letting out a heavy sigh. The bitterness burned down your throat. You basked as the liquid hit your mind, easing you slightly.

“Yoongi was at the fight?” Hobi recalled the wild night that the three of you had been at Death Valley. It was the first time he ever saw the man giving him orders. The man was tall, broad, had dark hair and wore dark clothes, face covered in a mask. Could it have been...Yoongi?

“Y/n!” The two of you turned to see Jungkook approaching the bar. He had changed his hair, the blue swapped for a short black cut, and you couldn’t help but double take at his new eyebrow piercing.

You downed another shot, glancing at Hobi who had raised his eyebrows seeing the drug dealer. Jungkook gave you a light hug, waving timidly to Hobi. You smirked, another shot down the hatch. “Easyyyy Y/n” He placed a hand on your back as he slid into the seat next to you.

“The fuck are you doing here?” Hobi sneered. Jungkook rolled his eyes, used to the condescending treatment of gang members. "Didn’t you get stabbed or something?”

“I did!” Jungkook grinned, “In fact, that’s exactly why I’m here. I think I figured out who Mr. Bossman is, and I wanna fucking kill him”

Hobi rolled his eyes, “Oh really”

“Kim Seok-motherfucking-Jin baby. He stabbed me. He’s the one who showed up and threatened me to move out of Y/n’s apartment, so he’s probably also the one who called for the kidnapping. And he might have called for Jimin’s accident. It makes so much fucking sense”

Jin did what? There was not enough alcohol in your veins to act like you didn’t fully understand what he had just said. Jin had Jungkook move out? It wasn’t impossible. And that’s what scared you. You blinked at Jungkook incredulously, “But he’s literally a police officer”

Jungkook’s grin widened, “Exactly! It’s fucking brilliant. He’s a cop, he fights for the other side. He wins no matter what and can never get caught. No one would ever suspect him. Winning despite being threatened? Who threatened him huh? It’s a fucking ploy. You’re not dead and neither is he I bet. Kingpin. Boom”

You felt sick, knowing that Yoongi was not the only person you needed to be worried about. It was almost funny how blatantly misinformed Jungkook was. “Wow you guys are idiots.” You muttered under your breath, taking another shot before coughing roughly. Should I tell them? Why did Jin lie? Is this even the truth? Jin always tried to pin things on Jungkook, but you defended him. Hearing his words now made your head spin. He’s lying. Jungkook is lying. You wanted to scream, frustration flooding through your veins as you clenched your fists.

“I’m gonna tell Jimin and Taehyung what I know. They will give me so much money dude.” Jungkook chuckled, “And then they’d kill him, oh God finally”

Hobi pursed his lips, mouth feeling dry as he reflected on Jin’s eerie words before he shot him in the leg. He didn’t know where Jin was anymore, handing him off to be taken somewhere. It didn’t make sense. His orders were to seize Jin if Jin won the fight. Why place an order like that all? Why do any of this?

“Y/n, come with me.” Jungkook tugged at the sleeve of the oversized Nirvana shirt you had thrown on after your shower session with Hobi. You giggled, the thought of Taehyung coming into your slowed thoughts like a hurricane, tearing up any understanding you thought you had of the situation. There was only one thing you believed. Only one thing you knew with full certainty and it was all you could hold onto.

“Oh my goodness it’s Yoongi. It’s Yoongi. It’s always been Yoongi” The words spilled from your lips like the tequila that dripped down the side of your lips as you took yet another shot, giggling like a ditz. Jungkook and Hobi exchanged confused looks with each other, only making you laugh more. “I would fucking know okay!” Your laughs grew loud, “I was locked up in his fucking apartment and where the hell were all of you huh? Dumb fucking idiots!” You buckled over, laughing into Jungkook’s chest.

“Jungkook” Hobi sighed, “I gotta get back to work. Can you get her sober please?” Jungkook nodded. He held your waist tightly helping you stand, walking with you carefully to the hotel elevator.

The laughter wouldn’t stop. Passerbys shot the two of you dirty looks as Jungkook pulled you into the elevator easily. Through it’s glass walls you could see the midday skyline, where outside people hustled through life as if everything were normal. Must be fucking nice. “Y/n” Your laughs began to choke in your throat, turning instead to the sobs you tried to suppress with whatever will you had left.

Jungkook placed his soft lips on your shoulder. Hands sliding onto your waist as he peered at you curiously, “Y/n, is everything okay?”

You shook your head, the elevator door closed as tears began forming in your eyes. Your voice croaked, “I’m dead. He’s gonna kill me. T..taehyung is gonna kill me. I...I know he will. He’s everywhere. Everywhere.” You looked around frantically, suddenly feeling hyperaware of the security cameras littered throughout the public space. “I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone...I” You hiccuped. Jungkook pulled you into a tight hug.

“It’s okay ssh” He stroked his thumbs them across your cheeks, cupping your face affectionately. “I’m here aren’t I?” You sniffled, nodding lightly. “I got you okay. No one is gonna hurt you”

You stared into his kind brown eyes. You did not trust him, your entire body was screaming at you not to trust him. His fingers danced down your figure, freely gliding over your heaving chest, desperately trying to breathe with the fear that choked you from within.

You blinked at him, eyes glancing down at his pouty lips before finding his eyes again. “Y/n” Jungkook whispered, barely inches from your lips. “I won’t let anyone hurt you okay. I promise”

Fat tears rolled down your face at his words. Jungkook clicked his tongue, cooing at you as he continued to wipe away your hears. “Oh you poor thing” He held you to his chest, kissing the top of your head, before tilting your face up to his.

He leaned in, eyes fluttering shut as his lips landed on yours, swallowing you into him. The taste of tequila was evident on your lips as he kissed you softly, and you allowed yourself to surrender to his warm touch.

You felt heat pooling in your chest as his fingers trailed up your legs. He traced circles into the inside of your thighs, letting his fingers tease the edge of your shorts.

“Jungkook” You inhaled sharply, his hot breath tickling your neck as you tilted your head back. He licked his lips before sloppily latching onto your collarbone, sucking down to litter your skin with wet kisses as his fingers slid down your shorts, just barely so that he could roll his hips into you.

He pushed you back against the glass, fingers trailing across your bare thighs before sliding beneath your panties. Jungkook ran a finger over your clothed folds, making you clench down.

“Y/n” His voice sounded equally as desperate as yours, barely audible over the sound of his heavy breathing. “Fuck I missed you” You gasped as his fingers slid under the fabric. He pushed a finger in, allowing your tight cunt to accustom to it before adding another finger not long after.

His other hand slid beneath your shirt, pushing your bra up so he could run his thumb over your nipples, his touch featherlight, leaving you breathless. You rolled your eyes back in pleasure, bucking your hips up as he slowly pumped you with his fingers.

“That’s it baby, just like that” He whispered, lips pressing into your neck. You let out a shaky moan as his fingers quickened, pumping in and out of you as you latched onto his shoulders. “Look at me. Look right at me baby”

He brought his lips over yours, just brushing them across your skin so he could gaze deep into your eyes as you fucked yourself onto his fingers. You cried out his name as the friction began to overwhelm you. His fingers easing you right where you needed them, pleasure searing through you as he watched your every move.

"So good for me” He pulled his fingers out, doused in your sticky arousal before he placed them into his own mouth. Your eyes widen as he licked of every last bit of you and smiles. “You taste so fucking good baby”

He kisses you again, harsher this time as his hips roll against you. Your fingers grip his hair as he pulls down his sweats, allowing his cock to spring out.

“You want my cock?” He ran his tongue over your lips, tugging at them slightly as he stroked his cock. You could feel his hand moving between your legs. “You want my big cock in your little pussy?”

You gulped, nodding as Jungkook looked down, lining his tip against your folds, pushing in only slightly before meeting your eyes again. “So warm and wet for me, fuck” He pushed in further, groaning as you spread your thighs wider, allowing him to thrust as deep as he could. He stilled briefly, kissing you again “You take me so well baby fuck. So fucking tight for me. My pretty baby” He stroked your face, thumb pushing into your mouth slightly.

“Does it feel good?” He mumbled, pulling out just slightly before rolling his hips back into you. He picked up a rhythm, fucking you deep and slow, hands clawing at your breasts.

“Yeah...feels really good” Your eyes fell shut, enjoying the fulfilling pleasure of his movements. He pulled your shirt up, burying his face between your breasts as he continued to fuck up into you.

“Mmm yeah I bet” He pushed your bra up, allowing his fingers to pinch you nipples. He took one into his mouth, wrapping his tongue around the small bud as he began to suckle you, looking up to your face and enjoying your reactions. “You’re so fucking pretty you know that right?” He sucked on your breast harshly before leaving it with a soft kiss and moving onto the other. “So perfect for me”

His thrusts quickened, driving you up the wall as his hands fell to your hips. You burying your face in the crook of his neck as you felt your high approaching. “Jungkook...I’m...”

“Yeah?” Jungkook’s voice was raspy with lust, “You wanna cum baby? Cum for me baby, cum all over my cock, wanna hear you make those pretty little moans when you cum”

You cried out with every thrust as he pushed you over the edge, and you felt your pussy burst with pleasure as you came, the sloppy sounds of your arousal echoing through the small space. Jungkook groaned as the hot liquid covered his cock, allowing him to slide in and out of you with ease.

“There you go. Good girl. Good fucking girl, just like that” He gasped, feeling his cock twitch slightly, buried deep in your cunt, “Want me to cum inside you baby?” You nodded, whining slightly, “Yeah? You want it baby? Huh?” Jungkook’s hips thrust furiously at you, and he cupped your face, bringing his forehead against yours so he could look into your eyes as he came. “Want my cum? Want me to fill you up baby?”

“Yeah. I want it. Jungkook please,” Your whiny voice was enough to have him spurting through you.

“Holy fuck” Jungkook buckled over, holding you tight as cum shot out of him, filling you up and leaking out onto the floor.

He pulled out of you quickly, pulling up his sweats while you fixed your own clothes. Sweat painted his forehead as he looked at you, panting with a big smile on his cute face.

“I missed that” He confessed, pulling you back into him by the waist. He knelt down and pressed his lips on yours, letting his hands slide to your ass and squeeze them softly.

You heard a familiar ring as the elevator door reached it’s destination. You jumped away from Jungkook, unable to get far as the strong boy’s hold on you remained steady.

"I see stabbing you once didn’t really drive home the message huh Mr. Jeon Jungkook”

You felt goosebumps spread as you heard the sinister tone of Jin’s voice. He stood leaning against the elevator as if he had been waiting for you, twirling his knife around aimlessly between his fingers. “Too bad, I unfortunately can’t kill you yet” He turned to you and winked, “Both of you come with me”

Sweat trickled down from Namjoon’s neck, his eyes glued to the tattered punching bag in front of him. His muscles were still sore, bruises still spattered across his bare chest. He didn’t care. He was sick of feeling helpless. Under the dim lights of the boxing gym, he pushed himself, another hit, more force, ignoring the pain shooting through his limbs with every strike.

“Don’t overdo it” Namjoon rolled his eyes at the sound of the familiar voice. “Last thing you want is to get injured again” He turned to the sound of loafers echoing across the concrete floor.

“What do you want Yoongi?” Namjoon sneered. The producer smirked slightly, patting the punching bag playfully before pacing around Namjoon.

“I’m gonna kill Taehyung, and I know Jimin is gonna break hell. I need you to protect Y/n for me. Can I trust you, Namjoon?” His voice was stern.

“Man, fuck you Yoongi” Namjoon groaned, “I put my life on the line for you constantly and you still have to fucking ask? Promise me. I want out after this. Promise me a record deal”

Yoongi shrugged, “Okay fine. I’ll sign you. Don’t let her out of your sight.” Yoongi inhaled sharply, “And I swear to God Namjoon if you even think about touching her, you’re dead to me. And I will know if you do.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes, lips parted, desperately trying to catch his breath. “Yeah okay. Just get me my fucking record deal”

Yoongi pursed his lips, pulling out his phone and handing it to Namjoon. “Paperwork is ready. You have one job. Don’t fuck up again” Namjoon clenched his fist as Yoongi chuckled in amusement. “I have some business I need to deal with personally. Keep her safe Namjoon, please”

You gagged, a puke-ish feeling clogging your throat as you coughed out. Your head was throbbing with pain as you squinted against the gleaming lights from the chandelier above your head. Glancing around, you realized you were back at Jungkook’s place, large dark wooden floors adding to the ambiance that just screamed rich in your face. The plushness of his large bed evident beneath you.

You get up slightly, peering across the room where you see Jin handing a large duffel bag to Jungkook, whispering something into his ear. Jungkook nods eagerly, shaking Jin’s hand before exiting. He turns back to you, smiling as he realizes you are awake.

“Hey party girl. Recovered from our little day drinking session have we?” Jin chuckled. You scowl, searching around you as your throat desperately demanded water. Jin handed you a glass. “I just got Jungkook caught up, but you and I need to have a little talk”

You exhaled before emptying the entire glass down your throat. “I know everything” You scoffed in spite, “I know everything you did, you fucking maniac”

Jin smiled wide at the term, “I know. Jungkook told me you think I was behind all of the stuff that’s been going on, stabbing him and kidnapping you. I mean,” Jin laughed, a tinge of condescendence in his voice, “You don’t actually believe that do you? Like, seriously how dumb are these guys. At least you’re smart”

You frowned at his tone, unsure of how to respond. Jin raised his eyebrows at your silence before continuing, “Oh come on Y/n. Use that little brain of yours hm? What the hell would I be gaining from all this? It was Taehyung.”

He extended you a hand, helping you out of the bed and pulling you up to stand before him, “What did he tell you huh? That he’s Yoongi’s friend or some shit? Taehyung doesn’t give a fuck about Yoongi. And I know you know about him screwing over Jimin. He’s trying to take over both gangs, not just Jimin’s, and he’s been lying to you this whole time.”

The bargaining chip. “What do you mean?” You followed the flat echoes of his footsteps down the hallway into the same office that you had Jimin tied up only a few days ago. You suppressed a smile as you noticed the curtains were still torn.

“He’s distracting Jimin and Yoongi with you. He wants them to get up against each other so that he can sway the gang loyalties towards him by showing that their leaders priorities are off. Look here” Jin motioned towards a laptop on the large desk, playing security footage of what appeared to be Death Valley’s parking lot, where people were loading bags of cash into what could have been Taehyung’s car. “He’s robbing them. And you know what else Y/n? When he’s done with all of this, he’s gonna kill them both.”

No. No way. Betrayal stung you as you process Jin’s words, “You’re just a pawn in his game. You were bait. He just needed to you get Jimin and Yoongi to fight amongst each other. And you let him, didn’t you?” Jin chuckled, patting your cheek. “I know he kept telling you that you could trust him. That he wouldn’t hurt you. It was bullshit Y/n. This man only cares about one thing. Himself”

You thought back to the first night you laid your eyes on him, back when his hair was a faded green, his sweaty tan skin contrasting his dark leather jacket. The look of familiarity in his eyes and the gleam from his diamond studded watch. You were a fool. He strung you along.

“Where is he?” You growled, “I wanna hear it from him. I wanna ask him myself”

“Absolutely. In fact, if you’re up for it, I was wondering if you would be down to do another little mission for me” Jin winked at you. You scowled, folding your arms over your chest, “If we don’t kill him first, he’s planning on killing Yoongi tonight before the party. I know because I got him to let me in on his little coup” Your heart dropped, “You don’t want that do you?”

"No” You blurted.

“So let’s kill him first. Come on, let’s go get you dolled up for this party”

As you left the office, you couldn’t help but notice a familiar figure standing at the other end of the hallway.

Namjoon? Your eyes locked with his. He pressed a finger to his lips before pointing at Jin and shaking his head. What is he trying to say. Namjoon seemed to have a warning look in his eyes. You simply shrugged at him, before running down the hall to catch up with Jin.

Namjoon exhaled, watching from a window as Jin and you drove off, likely heading to the hotel. Looking at his palm he saw the way his nails left imprints in his skin from how hard he was clenching his fists. Namjoon wasn’t necessarily a fan of Taehyung, but he knew a thing or two about him from Yoongi. Taehyung would never kill people. He was averse to it for some reason, Namjoon always thought it was ironic for him to be a gangster given that quality. Taehyung could torture anyone, threaten anyone, but he didn’t have it in him to take a life.

Which meant that Jin was lying to you. Namjoon never liked Jin. Even aside from all the hits he had taken from the strong man, he always felt something was off about the guy. He feels uneasy about what he had just seen transpire, and decided to go find Yoongi.

“Do you want some coke?” You were in the middle of washing your face when Jin walked in with a bag of powder. “I could use a hit, I don’t know about you”

“Oh hell yes. Thank you” He poured out a line on the bathroom counter using a quarter, watching with a small chuckle as you inhaled the drug, nose pressed against the cool marble. You sighed, wiping your nose and flashing a big grin in the mirror “Damn. I needed that. I didn’t know that you use”

Jin bit back a smirk, “I do.” He poured another line on the same place, this time taking a hit himself. “A lot”

“Oh. Officer Jin is a druggie like the rest of us huh” You teased. Jin poured himself a gin martini, taking a sip, eyes alight with amusement. “Does that turn you on ever? Do you ever have a hottie cuffed up and they’re like please Officer does that..you know..turn you on?”

Jin’s eyes widened at you “Not any hottie, no. Now if I had you cuffed up saying that” He chuckled, pulling you to him by the waist “That’s a whole other story” You pushed him away playfully.

“What?” Jin said mockingly, “Don’t remember that night where I gave you the best orgasm of your life?” His traced his lips up your jaw, and you could feel his smile against you.

“Wow. Cocky are we?” You raised your eyebrows. “I’ve had some pretty good sex in my life. Hard to say if that was the best”

Suddenly, Jin pulled his knife from his back pocket, glancing in the mirror as he traced the blade across your neck just enough for you to feel the sharp cold metal glide on your skin, pinching without actually making you bleed. “Don’t even lie. You loved fucking me. Don’t you remember? How fucking wet you were?” His breath was hot against your lips, but it was the look in his eyes that had you weak in the knees.

Taking his knife, he slit clean down your shirt, tearing it off of you to reveal your bare chest. “On the floor slut” His whispered, flirty demeanor now shifted into something dark. Something feral.

You gulped, taking care to slide your bottoms off, not wanting him to slice them up before lowering yourself down onto the tiled bathroom floor.

Jin set the knife aside, pulling out his lighter and setting in on the counter before shedding his own clothes, even he kicking off his shoes. He lifted his foot, and you watched with a curious gaze as he placed his foot on your chest. He kept the weight off of you, much to your relief, and you couldn’t help but feel absolutely filthy as he rolled your breasts under the sole of his foot. You had never done anything like this. It seemed so dirty, but felt so good.

“Oh my god Jin” You gasped as he switched onto his other leg, taking his foot and shoving it into your mouth, watching in amusement as you gagged over his toes.

“Look at you. On the fucking floor. Naked little whore. Letting me do whatever I fucking want.” He removed his foot from your mouth, letting you catch your breath before you looked up at him with quivering eyes.

He felt blood rush to his cock at your expression. Licking his lips, knelt down, climbing over you to gently trail his fingers where his foot had been moments ago.

“And you love it” He sneered, letting his nails dig into your breast, “You love the pain don’t you you fucking slut?” When you didn’t answer he grabbed your jaw, pushing his fingers into the edge of your mouth. “I asked you a fucking question”

“Y...yes” You exhaled. You felt his fingers tease your clit, teeth tugging on your lobe as he laughed darkly.

Jin reached for the martini glass “Turn over” He growled. You found yourself with your breasts pressed flat against the floor, Jin’s cock pressing into your ass. You gasped as he poured the drink onto your back. “This is gonna burn. And you’re gonna take it like a good girl. I know you are, you let Yoongi do it so I can too”

“Wait what” Jin pressed your face down with one hand while the other grabbed his lighter, “Jin. Hold on.” Your voice rose in fear, which only turned Jin on more. He watched as you writhed under him, trying desperately to get away. “Jin seriously. That’s not funny”

“Shhh. You can take it” He cooed, flicking the flame on he slowly lowered it to your skin, bringing it nearer and nearer to the doused skin. You yelped as you began to feel the concentrated heat. Your entire body was petrified. “Enjoy it baby. You like it. You love it. You let Yoongi do it so why can’t I?”

“Jin. It’s not you, I'm just not ready for something like this please” Jin cocked his head aside in irritation, stopping the lighter before it actually touched you and tossing it aside. “I didn’t let Yoongi brand me he just did.”

Jin stilled momentarily. “And you still love him? Even though he did that?”

You didn’t answer. That alone was enough for Jin to rage. He slammed your face back down, the blow giving you a dizzying sensation that hat you getting wetter by the second.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He growled, “How can you love someone like that?” He pulled your face up, bending you back until you were flush against his chest. “I don’t want any of them touching you again. You understand me?” He let go, giving you whiplash as you fell back to the floor. “Ass up. Now” He spanked your ass hard, causing you to yelp. The stinging pain vibrated to your core. You couldn’t help but love every second of it.

Jin knew that you were scared of him, he could feel it. He could also see the way your thighs would clench whenever he did anything to you. You were his favorite drug. He was going to ruin you.

He grabbed his belt from the pile of clothes on the side, “Hands under” He demanded, rolling his lip through his teeth as you obeyed him right away. He took the belt tying your wrists to your knees under you.

He took a moment to admire his work, your shivering body all his for the taking. You had no where to run. He had you now. “Who gives it to you the best him?” Pulling you towards him by your thighs, he didn’t care that your knees would burn against the smooth tile as he lined his cock up with your folds. He spat down, a glob of saliva landing on your ass before he used his cock head to rub it all over you. He could hear your shaky breath, your whiny moans that made him want to fuck you even more.

He slapped his palm onto the curve of your ass, bending over your to growl into your ear “Filthy whore. You disgust me. You let them all just do whatever they want to you, don’t you have any fucking self respect?” He could see his words were hitting close to home. You pursed your trembling lips as Jin smacked you again in the same place.

“When will you fucking learn huh? This pussy” He reached his hand to harshly cup your cunt, shoving two fingers inside you without warning. “This pussy belongs to me. You’re mine. My cockslut whore” Taking his fingers out, he shoved them into your mouth “You taste that? That how desperate your needy little cunt is for me”

Your legs were strung together, making it all the more painful when he finally began to push his cock inside you, using his fingers to scissor you open so that he could get deep inside you. His length pushed against your tight walls, your cries and curses only motivating Jin to push further.

“Who owns this cunt huh?” Jin pulled your hips back, burning your knees each time as he pulled you on and off his cock. Your ass slammed into him with each blow.

“You do. Holy fuck, you do” You gasped, practically screaming as your whole body ached with pain and pleasure.

“That’s right baby” He pinched your clit, making you yelp as he flicked at it, pounding into your relentlessly.

“J..Jin” You mumbled, lips still half pressed on the floor, “Jin please. Feels good” Jin scoffed, “Gonna cum...gonna cum” You inhaled loudly as you felt your high approaching. Your eyes clenched shut as he edged you closer and closer, fingers furiously attacking your clit until he stopped.

You let out a loud sob as Jin yanked you up by your neck “You really thought I would let you cum whore?” His grip tightened, cock twitching at the way your voice sounded choking, the water streaming from your eyes and the drool at the edge of your lips. He kissed you, licking it all up in the process.

“Look in the mirror. Look at how pathetic you are. I want you to remember the only person who’s ever gonna let you feel this good” You looked at your reflection, seeing only your faces and the way Jin’s nails dug into your neck. He pushed you forward so that your chin was on the countertop. You coughed out, watching as he resumed his thrusts, punishing your clit with the jarring movements of his fingers.

You screamed, pleasure crashing over you in a wave of tantalizing heat. You gushed onto his cock, tears falling from your eyes due to how overwhelming the sensation was. Jin continued to whisper filth right into your ears but you could no longer hear anything. Your vision became hazy, not minding the blow when Jin shoved you back onto the floor and pounded you to his own release.

On the other side of the wall, Namjoon leaned his head back and sighed, glancing down to see his cock in his hands, now completely covered in cum.

Taehyung chewed on his gum nonchalantly as he paced around the luxurious hotel, checking out all the fun features. The pool deck was nice, the lobby exquisite, and his favorite part, the cafe, smelt delicious.

Yoongi had asked to meet him in his suite. On his way there he ran into you, and you knocked his breath away. He always thought you were beautiful, but tonight you looked elegant. It was such a surprising contrast to your usual getup, but you looked amazing. He was about to tell you just that when he finally registered the hurt look in your eyes.

“You liar” You slapped him with everything you had. Taehyung backed away in surprise. “How could you use me like that? Over and over again. I trusted you. You were really the only one I thought had my back. Without a fucking doubt” You lunged towards him for another hit but Taehyung held your wrist firmly.

“What are you talking about? When did I use you?” Taehyung looked around frantically, “Calm down okay, let’s go somewhere and talk this through.” Your eyes flared in anger.

“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down! You’re gonna kill them!” You screamed. Taehyung squinted, noticing the slight redness in your eyes. He sighed in understanding, pulling you by the wrist into a corridor.

“Y/n. Breathe. Tell me what’s going on” Taehyung attempted to calm you down but you were enraged. “And what the fuck are you on?”

Admittedly, you and Jin had ended up doing many more lines of coke, perhaps even molly, you were no longer sure, but you washed it down with the bottle of gin, finding it unprecedentedly hilarious that Jin liked to drink gin martinis.

“You used me! To fuck with Jimin! And Yoongi! You lied to me! Everything you said was a fucking lie, everything you did, every stupid word that came out of your stupid mouth was a lie! You just want power. You’re selfish, and...and...you’re gonna KILL them” A dramatic gasp left your lips, Taehyung almost laughed, “You’re gonna kill Yoongi. I...I can’t let you do that”

You pulled out your gun, cocking it and pressing it against Taehyung’s chest. He instantly put his hands up. “Y/n. Y/n stop. That’s not true okay you’re not thinking straight. Don’t do something you’ll regret”

Your hands trembled around the gun “You’ll kill them. You’ll kill them both...I can’t let you do that”

“Hold on!”

Too late. You pulled the trigger.

Hobi wandered through the parking lot looking for his car. His eyes narrowed on a familiar vehicle, thinking back to when he had loaded the drug money from the last fight.

So. Is that guy Yoongi then? The one I kept seeing? Hobi wandered over to the car. Peering inside the passenger window, his eyes locked on a small item on the floor of the car. He squinted to read it, it appeared to be some sort of credit card.

He stepped back, realizing what the name on the card was. He glanced around before taking the end of his gun and ramming it into the door handle. The door creaked open, allowing Hobi to swipe the card up. He slid it into his pocket, before hurriedly returning to the hotel.

Namjoon’s eyes widened as he watched you pull a gun out on Taehyung. He had been thoroughly entertained as you yelled and slapped him, knowing full well that you were high out of your mind.

Namjoon couldn’t understand Jin’s plan at all. He had eavesdropped on everything so far, as per Yoongi’s orders. Why would Jin ask you to kill Taehyung, why wouldn’t he just do it himself? He knew you would hate yourself if you actually killed him.

He had also been thoroughly disappointed at how easily Jungkook had bought into Jin’s agenda as well. The things people do for money. Namjoon sighed, realizing that he was pretty much acting on similar motivations.

You were ready to pull the trigger, and Namjoon was almost certain you wouldn’t do it, until he saw your finger begin to curl. He ran towards the corridor as fast as he could.

“Hold on!” He yelled, but it was too late. Taehyung’s eyes flew shut.

Namjoon blinked, not hearing the familiar gunshot sound. You looked equally confused, glancing down the barrel of your gun. Taehyung let out a shaky sigh of relief, sliding down the wall.

“It...was a blank” You mumbled. Namjoon rushed to your side, pulling you away from Taehyung. “What the...what was I just about to do?” His heart clenched as your lips parted in shock.

“Taehyung are you okay?” Namjoon asked. Taehyung nodded, clearly shaken up but managing to get a hold of himself.

“What the fuck is going on?” He growled, “Who gave her a gun? And who gave her drugs while she had a gun? Fucking hell”

Namjoon stroked your back as you let the gun drop to the floor, the weight of your actions finally hitting you.

“I’m so sorry. Taehyung I...” You looked into his eyes. Those eyes that always left you questioning what was really going on in that pretty head of his.

“Yeah. Jin fucking fed her some interesting stories about how you’re using her. At least I hope they’re just stories” Namjoon peered at him. “I’m Namjoon by the way, we haven’t officially met”

Taehyung shook his hand “Hi Namjoon. I heard you make pretty decent music” He chuckled ironically, “Y/n, I need you to tell me everything Jin said. There’s been some sort of misunderstanding, I promise you I wasn’t taking advantage of you.”

Namjoon made a face, exchanging a glance with you as you nodded slowly. Namjoon was not entirely sure he should believe Taehyung. He supposed it wouldn’t matter, when he knew that Yoongi was planning to kill Taehyung anyways. The more information he had, the better he could at least keep you out of trouble.

P R E S E N T D A Y--

Security escorted you and Jimin out immediately as the media broke into a frenzy trying to figure out what had happened. You had hoped your acting skills had convinced him.

After Taehyung sobered you up slightly, the three of you had sat and schemed. Using everything the three of you knew, you were able to figure out that it really was Jin behind Jimin’s accident, your and Namjoon’s kidnapping, as well as Jungkook’s attempted murder. He was able to do all of this using Hobi’s help, but Hobi seemed not to know that he was receiving orders from Jin.

The question remained how and why.

“I know you’re not going to believe me. So I have proof” Taehyung pulled his phone out, pulling up a recording of Jin tied up somewhere.

All I ask, is that when the dust settles, Y/n is mine. And I get to kill them. My way

You felt queasy seeing his earnest expression through the film. Namjoon’s jaw clenched, recognizing crazy when he saw it, wishing he could have knocked the guy’s brains out beforehand.

“Listen to me. This guy is dangerous. I don’t really understand why he’s doing all of this. He said he wanted to help me, but clearly there’s some other motive here. Otherwise he wouldn’t go behind my back.” Taehyung muttered.

“The only way to know what he wants is to see what he does next” Namjoon pitched in.

You glanced between the two men, feeling weirdly relieved that you finally had some solid answers. Having Namjoon by your side after so long was the best thing you could ask for at the moment, and you clung to him, hands wrapped around his arm tightly. He thought it was cute.

“Let me fake my death. Let’s see what he does.”

The drivers took you and Jimin to the precinct. You looked around for Namjoon but he was nowhere to be seen. Your eyes met Jin’s briefly as he signed some paperwork. He winked at you.

“Can I have the body taken to get an autopsy report please?” You weren’t phased by this. Taehyung had said he had enough contacts to make it truly believable that he had died. Jimin’s face was void of emotion as he watched the stretcher go past with the body on it.

You left the hold on his hand, your blood running cold as the body nears you. It was loosely covered with a white sheet, but the arm hung out limply from the sight.

That watch. That’s his watch.

Jimin pressed his lips to the top of your head, sliding his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to him “You okay babe?”

“I...no yeah, I’m just shocked” You stammered. You looked up at him, allowing him to place a loving kiss on your lips.

Jimin felt for you, he really did. He himself was generally an emotional person, it was not something he ever tried to hide. But he always felt like his emotional energy was valuable. He didn’t feel the need to cry. Not for Taehyung.

Jimin stroked your back softly, “It’s scary, I know. I know baby, but don’t worry” He licked his lips, eyes briefly meeting Hobi’s from across the room. Hobi gave him a knowing look.

“Don’t worry. It’ll all be over soon”

ᐊ——[ previous ] series navi | masterlist | [ next ]——ᐅ

a/n: WOOHOOO. the fun is really gonna start now. did you miss yoongi? don’t worry, he’ll be back. drop your theories in my asks! who killed taehyung? what’s jin’s deal?

smut pairs are up for next week! poor oc, she really needs to eat some food. yikes.

see you then & thanks for reading <3 happy juneteenth!

taglist: @imluckybitches @gee-nee @missseoulite @hcneybees @kooookie @queenmasterxx @crustycaitlin @virgo-and-libra @un2-verse @winter-melontea @equivocacies @infernal-alpaca @shrimpmsg @meowmeowyoongles @rjsmochii @liltangerined @littlrmills14-blog @issysor @arandomblackgirl @adoringinsanity @giadalin @jeontier @kaithezaftig @jinssexytoe @nonnis97@minyoongiboongi @happygirl62304 @just-me-and-myselfs @purplepebbles @channiespup @lilacdreams-00 @kianam @thmrdrs @kpoppin-mel @namjooningelsewhere @lolzerss @planetsope @ohmykim @xyahrinx @bangtan-army @you-are-my-wind

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eloves-writes · 3 years ago

Text

a failed attempt to hate you

(tristan dugray)

a/n: i can only apologise if this writing is terrible, i wrote most of this in the middle of the night hopped up on medication for my disgusting cold. i hope it makes sense. anywho thanks for reading, enjoy, mwah <3

screw mr medina for making you help tristan study. you knew he knew from rory your inherent disdain for him, and it wasn’t your fault he was falling behind therefore not your responsibility to help him (as you had told mr medina last tuesday, with no effect). it was now sunday morning and you held little hope he would actually show up this time; he had somehow managed to cancel on your little study date 6 times already and it had only been 5 days since you were handed this apparently mammoth task. honestly, you didn’t expect him to show up at all, especially not anytime before noon- for which reasons you had made the decision put on your usual lazy sunday morning reading in bed get-up, which included (but was not limited to) an oversized rock concert shirt rory’s friend lane had given you in an attempt to clear her closet of non-christian attire, nothing but underwear underneath since you wouldn’t plan on leaving the comfort of your bedsheets for many hours, and a loose silk scrunchie you accidentally stole from rory keeping your hair out of your eyes.

your book of choice today was ‘harry potter and the goblet of fire’ , the most recently released chapter of the boy wizard’s adventures at hogwarts. the clock beside you read 9:15 as you comfied yourself for a morning of magic and adventure, which naturally was ended a mere 8 minutes later at 9:23 when the doorbell rang downstairs. you assumed your mother would answer it, but when it rang a second time you remembered your parents had both gone out to watch your sibling’s soccer match and you’d have to get it yourself.

it didn’t even cross your mind to put pants on, or that it may not be the postman at the door, until you opened it to see your very favourite chilton student whose eyes had hastily wandered to your bare legs. typical high school boy, you thought to yourself before your brain actually grasped the situation and kick started into action.

‘tristan. hi.’ you said with a slight shock in your voice.

‘erm, hi. i hope i’m not interrupting anything,’ he smirked, glancing down at your thighs again.

you rolled your eyes so aggressively you hoped mr medina could hear it from wherever he was spending his day, irritating boy-less and free to do whatever he wanted with his time.

‘you’re not,’ you quipped. ‘i just didn’t expect you to actually show up this time. and early may i add, i’m sure we said 11.’

‘we did, but i’ve got plans later so i thought i’d come by earlier and get this over with.’

‘how did you know i didn’t have plans? i might have been busy before 11.’

he pulled a face of amusement and you could swear you saw a hint of sarcasm shining through his eyes too. ‘right. are you done talking now or can i come in?’

‘you can come in, i guess,’ you sighed, closing the door behind him and showing him to the kitchen table. ‘wait here, i’ll go and get my books.’

‘grab some pants whilst you’re at it.’

‘stop talking,’ you called as you walked upstairs.

you came back downstairs a few minutes later fully-clothed and carrying your english notes to see that tristan had wandered from the chair you specifically remembered telling him to sit in, and was instead tracing a finger along the bookcase that stretched across the far wall of your living room. for a moment you just watched him nosey into your life; the framed certificates, the family photos, the 5 tapes of ‘beauty and the beast’ stacked atop of each other because it was your favourite film when you were 9 and practically every living relative had bought you a copy. beside those was a picture of you dressed as princess belle at disneyworld with chocolate ice cream smeared from cheek to cheek, a huge smile plastered between. tristan picked it up and turned to face you.

‘thoroughly adorable. seriously, you should go for this look more often.’

‘ha ha,’ you grimaced, snatching it off him and placing it back on the shelf. ‘are we studying or reminiscing on my past fashion choices?’

‘oo, someone’s in a good mood this morning huh,’ he teased. you pulled another face, once again silently cursing mr medina for completely ruining not just your day, but in fact your whole week. by god this boy got more irritating the more time you spent with him- it had only been 10 minutes, but it was 10 minutes longer than you ever previously had or ever wanted to.

‘can i get a drink before we start?’ he asked, redirecting the conversation and walking past you back into the kitchen. he began opening various cupboards, searching for a glass. ‘where’s the-’

‘why yes, tristan. you can have a drink,’ you snarked, opening the cupboard behind him with a dramatic flourish. he raised his eyebrows at you and reached forward to grab a glass, leaning over you as he did so. you caught a whiff of his cologne and almost forgot to dislike him for a moment.

‘there’s, um, soda in the ... fridge,’ you told him, voice unwillingly faltering as he looked down to meet your eyes. he had pretty eyes. pretty, blue, sparkling, stupid, annoying, asshole eyes.

you found the thick tension sickening. you refused to be another girl at school who simply swooned over him when he walked past your locker. you didn't like him. you were here to teach him english. because he was dumb. and actually, his eyes weren’t that nice.

he grabbed a soda out of the fridge and you both sat down at the table and began reading through your analysis of ‘to kill a mockingbird’, adamantly pretending not to see him staring at you the whole time.

why? he had had every popular and pretty girl in the whole of chilton, how was he ever so starved of female attention that he would look at you so admirably when you liked to make it clear you despised him? in fact, you enjoyed making a special effort to flip him off, or pull a face at him when he walked by, or kick his chair extra hard in spanish, or... oh shit. you had seen it from an outside point of view now, and it was glaringly obvious; maybe you did like him, just a little bit. shit. rory owed lorelai 10$ and a cheeseburger from luke’s, though you didn’t want to have to admit she was right when she’d said you were like a kindergarten boy pulling a girl’s ponytails because he thought she was pretty.

‘hey tristan,’ you started, breaking the comfortable silence between his questions and suddenly nervous to talk to him. stupid, it was still the exact same boy you’d been complaining about all week, nothing new.

he looked up from your notes. ‘what’s up princess?’

that was definitely new.

‘don’t call me princess’ -he smirked irritatingly- ‘do you need to stay much longer? i mean, is there anything else you want help with?’

‘trying to get rid of me?’

‘no! no. i just thought that you’d only stay and pretend to listen to me for like, half an hour then vanish. it’s 11:30 and you’ve been through my whole binder.’

‘it is? time flies.’

‘tristan.’

‘i do care about my grades, you know. and you’re a good teacher, i might have a chance at an A.’

‘why didn't you show up the last 6 times we planned then?’

he put down his pen- your pen, actually. it had pink sparkles on the lid. ‘got to keep up my street cred.’

‘ha ha. funny,’ you replied as blankly as possible, pulling back a smile you could feel in your stomach. you made eye contact again and, like every other time since you’d sat down and started studying, you held each other’s gaze for longer than necessary. funny how realising you like someone makes you suddenly act like it.

‘i should get going then right,’ he said, picking his jacket from the back of his chair.

you felt weird, almost as if you didn't want him to leave after praying earlier he wouldn't show up. alas, your parents would be home soon and you would be willing to bet money that tristan would have some interesting jokes about your being home alone that would not slide with your dad.

‘yeah. i hope you get that A,’ you said, accidentally smiling as you walked him to the door.

tristan turned to lean on the frame of the now-open door and put on a face of mock surprise. ‘my, my, y/n. was that a kind comment and a smile? you’re spoiling me.’

‘shut up, i hope you fail.’

he smiled back. ‘you really mean that?’

‘i guess not.’

there was yet another beat of heavy silence.

‘see you monday.’

you closed the front door as he walked down the drive, but noticed tristan’s car keys still sat on the kitchen table. a porsche, of course. you picked them up and reopened the door to his fist poised to knock. the two of you laughed awkwardly for a second.

‘i forgot my-’

‘you forgot your-’

another awkward laugh. jesus christ this was uncomfortable. you passed him the keys, and with absolutely no warning at all, your lips were suddenly met with his. they were soft and confident, and his free hand held your face as you tried to process the new situation. you quickly melted into the kiss, letting him take control until he pulled away and smiled that sparkly smile you didn't hate as much as you tried to.

‘didn't see that one coming,’ you said breathily, brushing some loose hairs off of your face.

‘i knew you didn’t hate me.’

‘ever the arrogant twat.’

‘hey, does this mean you’ll stop kicking my chair in spanish?’

‘absolutely not. in fact, i think i’ll kick it harder.’

‘as long as you let me do that again.’

tags: @leossmoonn for inspiring me to start writing again, @account123445 & @lmaoidekanymore6 for asking me to post tristan fics! (couldn’t figure out how to make the tags work but if you read this, you know ✨)

#tristan dugray #tristan gilmore girls #chad michael murray #gilmore girls #gilmore girls fic #gilmore girls fanfiction #can't think of anymore tags so i'll just hope this does ok on its own

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siriuslyshewrote · 5 years ago

Text

In The End - Shelby!Sister

Request - Shelby sis prompt(s): Included a few in case they are pretty awful lol but just maybe they might inspire you a bit - your creativity would make them good! 1. She gets kidnapped by sabini / changretta and it follows her brothers going absolutely insane trying to get her back between her trying to survive

Okay, so this is kinda a sequel to Good Grief, but you don’t really need to read it, I’ll just be using a bit of the storyline.

John’s still alive. I refuse to accept his death.

Warnings - blood, swearing, kidnapping

10:38 // 3rd May

1928

- - - - Bonnie - - - -

The boys footsteps were quick, an almost run, a tell of the frantic thoughts he was having, whilst trying to reassure himself at the same time. His face was slightly sweaty - he’d ran over a few miles to get here - by the time he reached the door of the house he knew well.

He usually would have hesitated, slightly nervous, before knocking, but there wasn’t time for that. He needed the reassurance, the smile of the girl he loved, to calm his fast beating heart, and the feeling in his stomach, that something was so very desperately wrong.

His knuckles were still sore off the last bare knuckle fight he had, but he didn’t care, rapping on the door loud enough so that the residents inside could hear above the chaos that usually reigned inside the house at 6, Watery Lane, Small Heath.

The door swung open quicker than he thought it would, and so he jumped a little, pulling his cap off his head, holding it in his hands, playing with the soft fabric, trying to calm that damn feeling in his stomach. His thumb accidentally brushed over the blade sewn in there - the crown of a king, one of the Blinders had once told him - and blood appeared on the skin. He didn’t even look at it, instead paying his attention to the woman in front of him.

“Miss Shelby - Gray.” He quickly corrected himself. “Is she here?”

The woman’s forehead creased a little, her previously soft eyes hardening a little. Polly Gray, of all people, would be able to share the feeling he had right now.

“Who?” Her voice sounded as though she wished for a different answer to what he would give her.

“Y/N? Is she here?”

She paused. “No. Bonnie, why would she be here?”

“She..” Bonnie’s heart thrummed faster than before, his mind spinning with thoughts of what could have happened, none of them good. He swallowed. “She said she was coming to the market, to get something ... she said she would make dinner tonight, she’s really excited-“

“Bonnie.” Her voice was harsher now, the anxiety he felt now visible in her eyes. “When did you last see her?”

“Three hours ago. I thought - I thought she got distracted, thought she came here, maybe, to resolve everything , but I just - I had a bad feeling. I had to come check on her.”

The sickening feeling he had had for hours was worse now. The smell of blood from his thumb reached his nose, and he couldn’t help but think about who else could be bleeding right now. Guilt filled him - why didn’t he come and check on her sooner?

Polly turned round, quickly, leaving the door open behind her, which he guessed was a sign to follow her deeper into the house, walking fast towards the kitchen, then to the curtains, pulling them open fast, to reveal what looked like a family meeting.

“Bonnie Gold.” Tommy’s stony blue eyes regarded him, not filling him with the usual feeling of intimidation, but with anger. If anything had happened to her, it was because of the family that was sat in front of him.

“Mr Shelby, I-“ He hated that he still felt the need to address the man in front of him formally after everything he had done to ruin his and Y/N’s relationship.

“Y/N’s missing.” Polly interrupted him, standing slightly in front of him, her shoulders rising and falling quicker than usual, becoming panicked. “She’s missing , Thomas.”

“What the fuck do you mean?” John’s voice was louder than the rest of the family’s in the chaos, his eyes very firmly fixed onto Bonnie with a look of such intense anger, Bonnie was surprised he didn’t launch himself across the room and hit him in the face.

“She’s fucking missing?” Esme’s voice was loud too, her usual strong voice permeated with panic. She had cared for you like a parent - and you had lived with her and John until you moved out four months ago - and Bonnie knew how much you would hate seeing her in distress right now, no matter if you weren’t particularly talking to any of them.

Bonnie’s fingers were still picking at his cap, his foot tapping on the ground with the anxiety he was feeling - not because of the Shelby family, no, he didn’t give a fuck about them right now. He cared about you, where the hell you could possibly be.

You didn’t have any close friends - being a Shelby didn’t exactly invite a lot of people to want to be close to you, and apart from the family in front of you, he had no clue where you would be. You had been nervy for months, not really liking being alone, a product of how you had grown up, in constant danger, really, and so he couldn’t imagine you deciding to go anywhere new. He hated himself, now, for his gentle insistence over the past months, trying to get you to be more independent - if he hadn’t, perhaps you wouldn’t ever have left him this morning.

It seemed so eerily coincidental that at exactly the moment the family found out about you going missing, the phone started to ring.

- - - - Y/N - - - -

You were only supposed to be gone an hour or so, at most, just a quick trip to the market in Small Heath, for some of the food you had been craving for weeks, for dinner. Perhaps if you hadn’t taken the detour you had, you wouldn’t have been in the situation you now were, or perhaps you would.

You had been desperate to see your family, though you hadn’t told anyone that, still keeping up your stubborn facade that Bonnie had been trying to break down for months. You were still angry, of course you were, at your brothers, which extended to the rest of the family, who, of course, took their side. You didn’t want to speak to them, per say, just see them, just to see that they were okay. You hadn’t talked to any of them, aside from Ada in London, since you had stormed out of John’s house months ago, after finding out what they had said to Bonnie, not even to Finn, which was killing you. You hadn’t ever even spent a full day away from your twin brother before, and so it half felt like you were missing a limb, but you knew out of them all, it would be Finn that would be able to convince you to talk to them again, and so, you stayed distant. And so did they.

There was a small alley, just a few metres away from where the market was held, and it was well known to you - it was a shortcut home, if you and Finn ever stayed out just too late, and needed to get back home before Aunt Polly stormed the streets of Small Heath trying to find you. None of the Shelby’s still lived in the house on Watery Lane, but it was still their main point for business, and you had no doubt that the majority of them would be there. You didn’t think that it was stupid to go into that alley - didn’t think that you, for once, didn’t have the safety of your brother with you - but you should have.

Because as soon as you were only a few feet into the dark alley, you felt cold metal being struck into the back of your head with so much force that you crumpled to the ground, blacked out, before you could even comprehend what had happened.

- - - - Bonnie - - - -

It was Thomas that took the phone call, of course. He didn’t show any emotion, simply listening to it, though his stony facade was betrayed by the whites of his knuckles showing through his skin, with how tightly he was gripping the telephone. The room was silent, no one even breathing, waiting for the news that they were sure was in that phone call.

Tommy placed the phone down on the reciever with a slam, one of his hands rubbing his face, in stress.

“Fuck.” He exclaimed, his voice gruff and angry.

“What the fuck’s happened?” John was the first to speak, the brother that was arguably the most protective over you, getting up from the table.

“Some fucking gang has her-“

“What?” Bonnies voice was louder than the others, his tone furious and terrified. “What the fuck do you mean?”

Finn was the only one sat in silence, his hands gripping the wooden table, knuckles white, head bowed as if in prayer.

“Oh god.” Polly whispered.

Tommy regarded him again, but this time there was visible worry in his face. This was his little sister, after all, the one who he had helped raise when their mother died when the twins - Y/N and Finn - were only toddlers. This was the sister who he’d held when she was terrified to go to school on her first day, and later, when she’d been pushed over and laughed at, because of her parents - her drunk father, and ‘crazy’ mother - and ripped her new dress that Polly had spent hours making. It had been him who had taught her how to tie her laces, him who taught her how to climb trees, to kick and punch at the kids who made fun of her.

Yes. It had been Thomas who had protected her , her whole life. And now he was her downfall, the reason she was gone. Him, and his stupid razor gang, that Bonnie now regretted ever being a part of. He dropped the cap from his hands, letting it drop onto the dirty ground.

“We’ll get her back. They want money.”

“Well, fucking give them it!” Polly exclaimed.

Tommy exhaled. “They won’t give her back, even if we do. We have to find her.”

“How do you know that?” Bonnie spat. “Just give them the money!”

“Because these people, they’re greedy. They will just want more and more.”

“How are you going to find her? She could be fucking anywhere.” Bonnie’s voice cracked, and he didn’t try to hide it like he usually would in front of the older men.

“I’ll send my men out. To get information, to look in all the abandoned-“

“And you think that’s going to get her back?”

“Yes. These people - they’re amateurs, I can tell. Someone will have seen something. And they’ll tell us. We’ll get her back.”

“How can you be so fucking sure?”

“Because I know my sister. Do you?”

Part two should be up tomorrow, if people want it!!

#peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders headcanon #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinder headcanon #peaky blinders #finn shelby imagines #finn shelby #finn shelby x reader #isaiah jesus #isaiah jesus imagine #bonnie gold #bonnie gold x reader #bonnie gold imagine #bonnie gold imagines #bonnie gold fanfic #shelby sister #peaky blinders imagine

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drxwsyni · 5 years ago

Text

Petrified (pt.2)

Yandere Erasermic x f!Reader

SERIES MASTERLIST

a/n: okaayy this took longer to write than i was hoping for but here it is!

4.2k words

Warnings: some harassment, light injury

It amazed you that despite the extreme overuse of your quirk in the past thirty-six hours, you were still able to hold on to a remaining amount of wavering consciousness. You’d like to think it was because you’ve grown stronger after using it so much over the past few years. In reality, it was most likely due to the chilled wind that blew against your form keeping you awake as you walked home, mind still reeling from the events towards the end of your shift.

On a normal weekday the venture back to your apartment would only take roughly fifteen minutes, twelve if you took a few less than safe shortcuts. Now however, the concept of time was not something your short circuited brain could understand. With limbs feeling like they were made of lead, you could only imagine how much longer this ordeal was going to take.

With your brain on autopilot, you let your thoughts wander in hopes that you’d just blank until you reached your destination. That was until you met the familiar alleyway to your left on the sidewalk.

Doing a quick cost-benefit analysis, you deduced that in your state, shaving off a few minutes of travel time with this detour may be crucial if you want to make it home without collapsing before you got there. Although you were aware of the shady business that went down in areas like this, the alleyway was the only option if you wanted to fall asleep in your own bed.

It was pitch black outside, a few dim street lamps serving as the only form of illumination. The alleyway was dark, but there was just enough light bouncing off the walls for you to discern the narrow path ahead.

You made a final decision, turning down the path despite the pit in your stomach that had just begun to form. I just need to focus on getting home, you told yourself, attempting to calm your nerves.

About thirty feet in and you realized just how stupid you were for ever thinking this was a good idea.

On the other side of the alleyway, the only exit to the narrow path, you could just barely see the silhouette of a tall, large figure step into the clearing. Squinting, your clouded brain slowly identified that the person, seemingly a man, was gradually walking in your direction.

By now you were about halfway through the passage. Understanding that the man likely had bad intentions, you pivoted on your heels and sped up back down the way you came.

...At least that’s what you were going to do, but blocking your path, lazily sauntering in your direction were two more equally large statured men.

Just like that your heart sunk into the now gaping pit in your stomach, the feeling giving you whiplash. Frozen in place, you felt your heart pounding as if it were ready to burst right through your chest. It’s okay, just give them your bag and run for it if they try anything, it’s not like you’d lose much anyways.

You looked back around to see the first figure had drawn close, now standing roughly ten feet away. Head whipping to face the other two again, you found them to have closed the same distance.

One of them, you couldn’t tell who in the darkness, spoke up. “Hey there cutie, what’s a little lady like you doing out all by herself?” His voice was rough, sounding like he smoked a pack a day.

Behind you the other man joined in, startling you. “Yeah, don’t you know how dangerous it is at night baby?”

At this point he had produced what looked like a crowbar. He may have had it before, but your memory was already failing you. The effects of your rapidly increasing heart rate were becoming unbearably severe at this point. Seeing black spots forming at the edges of your vision, along with a dizziness that felt sickening, you wondered if you’d even be able to reason with these guys.

Somehow you sputtered out a defence. “I-I swear, whatever money I have y-you can take it. I really don’t want any trouble, I promise.”

You hear a low chuckle behind you, but you didn’t turn around, or rather you couldn’t, fear taking root and holding you in place.

“C’mon now sugar, we just wanna have a little fun is all. Why don’t you just be good and play along, yeah?”

Nothing you could’ve done would make any words come out of your mouth in protest. Instead, all you could comprehend was the sudden absence of noise around you.

The men hadn’t left, and there was still the sound of distant life outside the alleyway that could probably be heard. But none of that was being processed in your mind.

Dimly, you could see the man in front of you talking, his mouth moving to form words, but it was clear now that the surge of panic and adrenaline had incapacitated your form. Your hearing had failed you, replaced with what sounded like blood rushing through your head.

It was time for the rest of your body to follow suit, crumbling under the severe exhaustion and aggressive response from your body trying to activate its fight or flight senses.

Knees buckling beneath your form, your body swayed slightly to the side as you collapsed hard onto the concrete. Laying there completely limp, your eyes fluttered closed with heavy eyelids. You processed that nothing you could do would prevent unconsciousness, effectively giving up.

It took a few more seconds for sleep to completely envelope you, now unable to even lift a finger in protest. Maybe it was just hallucinations from your lucid, half asleep state, but you could’ve sworn you could make out the distant sounds of loud cursing from multiple people. Maybe even a few pained grunts here and there.

But that comprehension was swiftly cut short, your body finally succumbing to its stresses, knocking you out like a light.

_______

Hizashi was seated in a cushioned armchair positioned just off the edge of the hospital bed so he could keep an eye on the figure laying in front of him. Eyes unmoving from that one spot, he watched the rise and fall of your chest as your unconscious form remained otherwise still.

For a moment he glanced at his wristwatch, seeing that he’d been looking after you for a little under two hours, now being 11:06 pm. During all this time your form had remained in what the doctors had explained as pretty much a coma, brought on by extreme strain of the body’s energy. It wasn’t likely to last long, but the reasoning behind it was concerning enough that they’d administered fluids which you were also lacking by an equally unhealthy amount.

Having more than enough time to think, the voice hero attempted to deduce any possible explanations as to how you’d let your health deteriorate so much. He’d had his fair share of experience when it came to seeing what the effects of overworking can have on the human body. This however was most definitely up there, especially for someone in your line of work.

Bringing him out of his thoughts, a nurse lightly rapped on the door before entering. “Pardon me Yamada sir, but visitor hours ended at 9 pm. I’m going to have to insist that you leave for tonight. You can come again starting at 6:30 am tomorrow however.”

Knowing he’d overstayed his welcome, the blond silently agreed, standing out of his seat and grabbing his jacket that was hanging off the back of it. He gave you one last look, inwardly wishing there was more he could do for you at the moment, before taking his leave.

Hizashi was headed back to his car when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket, pulling it out almost frantically.

From: Shouta <3

Just got back from the station. I already know what you’re going to say, just tell me when you get home and focus on driving. See you soon.

11:10 pm

It was obvious his partner was equally concerned over the state you were in, especially given how he reacted when they apprehended the thugs trying to take advantage of you. Knowing he’d have to wait so as not to irritate Shouta more than he likely already was, the voice hero put his phone away and traded it for an electronic key, unlocking the sleek, black car and stepping in.

The ride home felt like it took ages, his mind still racing whilst going over the events from that night. Attempting to ease his conscience, Hizashi decided to take the time to figure out what he’d say to his partner. Specifically, how they’d deal with you.

_____

When he finally pulled into the driveway it felt as if he was going mad, still reeling from the thoughts of what could’ve happened if him and Shouta didn’t find you in time.

Pushing those scenarios to the back of his head, the blond stepped out of the car and made his way to the front entrance. He typed in the combination to the keypad, hearing the locking mechanism shift before reaching for the handle.

It was silent in the house as he walked in, closing the door behind him. Looking over to the dining room table, he saw the bouquet of flowers you’d arranged for Shouta that night, beautifully settled into a vase.

Distantly, Hizashi could hear the thumping of footsteps above him. Knowing who they belonged to, he resolved to hang up his jacket before anxiously waiting for his partner in the living room.

On queue, Shouta made his way downstairs, hair still wet from showering. Plopping down on the living room couch with an audible sigh, he started. “I got the information of the guys who attacked (y/n) before I left. They’re behind bars so there’s nothing more we can do.”

The blond was leaning against the mantle of the fireplace, arms crossed while anxiously tapping his foot as if waiting for permission to start his rant.

Expectedly, his partner lazily waved, as if to say ‘get it over with.’ In truth, he knew what Hizashi was going to say, and he agreed, but the fact of the matter was that his partner always ended up being overzealous with his passions. The only thing that mattered right now was working out a way to properly deal with both of their concerns.

“Y’know when ya told me how tired the poor thing looked after coming home last week from the shop, I thought you meant like how you look after patrolling all night.”

Shouta disregarded the insult, knowing full well how he appeared sometimes after doing so.

“But this is just―she fucking passed out from getting scared, that shit ain’t normal Shou’.”

His counterpart let him calm down for a second before acknowledging the situation. “I know, you think it doesn’t bother me just as much?” He leaned back into the sofa, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment. “I didn’t think it was this bad. But it could honestly just be a medical problem. Chronic fatigue, severe anxiety...or something like that.”

The blond lightly shook his head. “Maybe, it’s just… I don’t know babe, something seems off to me. And I know you’re thinking it’s me overreacting again, but would ya just hear me out?”

The frustration in the air was palpable, neither being able to settle on a flimsy excuse. “No, you’re not overreacting. I got the same feeling, we just can’t jump to conclusions right now, got it?”

Hizashi’s shoulders slumped in a mixture of relief over the mutual understanding of concern, and defeat for having to hold off on his suspicions.

As if his counterpart knew exactly how the man felt, he continued. “Let’s just wait it out for a bit. Hell, how many people have we seen go through similar things. It’s likely she’ll just have to rest up for a bit. Nothing to worry about.”

The blond sighed, “Sure, whatever―I’m still gonna check up on her tomorrow though, ‘kay?”

“Of course. Now go take a shower, I can smell you from here.”

The atmosphere became a little less tense, having reached a conclusion.

Hizashi chuckled lightly before walking off in the direction of their bedroom, leaving Shouta to relax in the comfort of a quiet house.

_____

The sound of a steady, electronic beeping was the first thing you could make sense of as your body gradually gained back its senses. It was hard, but you channelled every ounce of energy in your body to open your eyes, albeit halfway, to assess your surroundings.

The first thing you noticed was the warm lighting cast upon a bleak white ceiling above. It felt comforting, serving as assistance to calm the growing worry you felt from not knowing where you were. It was likely late in the evening or perhaps sunrise you concluded.

Moving still proved to be difficult, so instead you opted for momentarily trying to piece together what scattered memories you had.

Vaguely, you recall going home after your shift, noting the holes in the messy timeline from what you assume was fatigue-induced memory loss. Next was the unforgettable sense of dread you felt after being trapped by two...no, three people? There were a few lines of conversation thrown around by the perpetrators which you couldn’t quite remember the exact contents of, and given the situation maybe that was a good thing. That’s where the encounter ended, and you were left to assume that like the Saturday shift incident you had long ago, you passed out mostly from exhaustion.

With that done you forced yourself to identify the current situation at hand. It seemed judging by the sterile looking ceiling and walls, along with the telltale beeping sounding off to your left, you were in a hospital room.

It also seemed that you were lying on a somewhat stiff bed, blankets covering you from the chest down, the weight of it revealing its presence. Aching for more information, you struggled with the dead weight of your form with a low groan, moving to prop yourself up on your left elbow.

From this position you could see the heart monitoring device clipped onto your index finger, along with an IV protruding from the top of your hand. Following the tube connected, your eyes landed on a bag of clear fluid hanging on a metal post behind you. The sudden movement catching up to you, a low throbbing formed in the back of your skull, prompting you to hold your head in the hand not secured with medical equipment.

Sighing, you weakly sat up fully in bed and saw that your clothing had been replaced with a hospital gown. You were still so out of it that the quiet sound of a light snoring noise to your right almost went unnoticed. But it didn’t, and you turned your head slowly to the source.

Awkwardly slumped in a cushioned chair to your right was a man, deep in slumber with his head hanging slightly to the side. You assessed his sleep induced state, eyes traveling over his features.

Long black hair hanging loose around his shoulders, mild eye bags, scar under his right eye.

Little by little your memory identified him as the same man who you’d assisted twice now at the floral boutique in which you worked at. What was his name again? It started with an s right? Sh...Shou….God, what was it?

“Shouta! Get up!” A loud voice boomed to your left, causing you to dizzily swerve your head in its direction. Standing in the doorframe of your single patient room was a tall, blond haired man carrying a bouquet of flowers in his right.

Present Mic, you thought, or rather Hizashi, something he made startlingly clear for you to call him.

Jarred awake at the disturbance, the once sleeping man sat up abruptly in his chair, eyes falling on your deeply rigid form.

And what exactly are they doing in your hospital room, much less alone with you while you were sleeping?

Most likely sensing the uncomfortableness mixed with confusion in your demeanor, Shouta spoke up. “I’m sorry, we don’t mean to alarm you in your state. I take it you’d like an explanation as to how you ended up here.”

Hizashi had found his way to the right side of your bed, not after setting the flowers down on a side table first. You waited a few more seconds, collecting your thoughts before responding.

“Um...yeah. That would be nice I guess.” You ended up croaking out the response from the dryness and lack of recent speaking.

The voice hero sat down on the edge of the bed, a small but warm smile on his face almost as if to ease your nerves. “Well songbird, your lucky Shouta and I found ya when we did last night. You’d gone and passed out while some nasty ol’ guys tried to attack you.”

There was a pause before his counterpart continued, giving you a moment to let the new information sink in. “We decided to go on patrol together for a few hours after leaving your shop. Our sources mentioned some criminal behaviour around the area you were in, so naturally we went there first.”

With these crucial bits of information revealed, you picked at your memories once again. Vaguely, the sounds of what you now presume to be fighting were the last things you can recall.

“And thank god we did. Ya must have been so frazzled that the scare put you to sleep. Can’t even begin to imagine what would’ve happened if you were alone.” Hizashi’s point didn’t make you feel better, but he was right, last night was a combination of your worst qualities happening all at once.

You must have visibly shuddered at that statement too, mind wandering to the plethora of possibilities those men could have gotten up to. “But nothing more happened, I can assure you. ‘Zashi and I dealt with the guys and called the police to pick them up. We were worried about your condition so he carried you to his car and drove you to the hospital before an ambulance arrived to save time, I stayed to wait for backup. You’ve been asleep since.”

Silently, you noted the reduced throbbing in your head, figuring the impact of your skull crashing into the pavement was to blame. And then it dawned on you, You’ve been here long enough to be changed into a gown and given an IV?

“Ah...exactly how long have I been asleep?” Your voice was shaky, weak even from just having woken up and still feeling the ache of fatigue.

Shouta decided to relay this piece of news, using a calm tone in an attempt to not alarm you. “The attack happened last night at around 9:15, it’s roughly 6:30 in the evening right now so you’ve been asleep for almost a whole day.”

Oh...well that’s definitely cause for concern. On the bright side it’s a new record! But, if that’s the case then how long have they been waiting for you to wake up…

If it was a long time then you’d feel bad for ruining their Friday night, and all of their Saturday. This realization alone was enough to give a skip in your heartbeat.

“I stayed with ya for a bit while Shou cleared some stuff up with the police, but I ended up gettin’ kicked out not too long after by the nurses cause of visitor hours being done and all that. We both came to check on you this morning and he’s stayed here since then. I just got ‘ere to switch shifts but whaddya know, our sunshine was up ‘n awake.”

Great...you thought, so you had ruined their day. You’d have to deal with making up for that later once you got out of this place, but for now...wait, our sunshine?

...Okay, just ignore it (y/n), he did save your life after all so a little shameless endearment can’t hurt, right?

“I’m really sorry for taking up so much of your time. You don’t have to stay any longer, I’m sure you guys are pretty busy.” You had no reason not to send them away, feeling horrible for making the two think they had to look after you. In addition to that, you barely knew the men outside of what kind of flowers they liked, so the unfamiliar circumstances were a little unsettling.

You could hear Shouta sigh at your dismissive response, to which you thought he was relieved to finally be sent home.

“If we were concerned about wasting our time we would have left a long time ago. We’re here because we want to be, not because we have to.”

Strangely, that didn’t make you feel any better. “Still, I feel bad for keeping you…”

There was a brief silence in the room, and if you weren’t currently hanging your head in shame then maybe you would’ve seen the subtle but conspiring looks exchanged between the two men.

The blond was the first to break the silence, something he seemed to be good at. “Well...if you’re feelin’ that bad there’s certainly a way to repay us.”

Your head perked up at the proposition, anxiety settling due to not knowing exactly what this repayment could entail.

Thankfully, Hizashi didn’t seem to want to watch you squirm with anticipation. “Why don’t ya stop by our place once you get out of here. Shouta and I’d love the extra company.”

His counterpart continued after a moment. “We always end up making more food than we need for dinner, the accommodation for one night would be no trouble.”

Naturally, the prospect of being asked to spend more time with these men after you’d already been such a burden was unexpected. You’d think after all this time it would only be normal to send you on your way. Yet, here they were, continuing to leave you stunned at their actions over and over again.

If this is what it takes to appease them, then so be it. Surely you can handle having dinner with them, right?

The two waited patiently for your response. It took a second, but you managed to gather your thoughts for a comprehensive answer. “I suppose… although I don’t see how this helps me repay you in any way.”

“Nonsense, songbird. Shou’ wouldn’t admit to it, but he’s been a bit worried that you’re not takin’ care of yourself, with all the work ya do. Nothing a good meal can’t fix, ya dig?” Hizashi positively beamed at your acceptance to the request, making it hard to deny him. Especially since, although silently, Shouta wished to see this through as much as him based on the explanation.

You smiled, the reassuring atmosphere easing the tension in your body. “If that’s really what you want then I guess it couldn’t hurt.”

It looked as if the erasure hero was about to speak, but before he could, a knocking on the door stopped him.

Waiting a moment before entering, a nurse opened the door. “I would’ve appreciated it if you two informed me immediately when she woke up.” She reprimanded the two heroes for their irresponsibility before making her way to the unoccupied side of your bed.

“I need to discuss some matters with the patient, why don’t you head home for the night.” She regarded the two without looking in their direction, instead examining the IV bag and writing something down on a clipboard.

You gave them an apologetic look, clearly they wanted to talk a bit longer than they were being allowed.

Shouta stood from the armchair, gathering his jacket in his arms with Hizashi following suit.

“We’ll see ya later, ‘kay sweetheart?” It seemed the blond simply had a habit of dishing out loving nicknames, and at this point you were getting used to it.

The erasure hero continued, “Get some rest, one of us will check up on you tomorrow morning.”

You managed out a quiet “Okay,” and they were gone before the nurse could scold them for taking up more time.

Finally having the privacy she needed, the nurse regarded your current state. “Okay then, hun. Let’s see how you’re doing.”

_____

The next hour or two was filled with various exams and consultations. You were told exactly what you’d been expecting. Which was basically along the lines of blacking out due to exhaustion combined with hitting the pavement pretty hard. You didn’t bother to mention that the occurrence was most likely also slightly induced by the sudden panic attack, figuring that it wasn’t quite as important.

At the end of the day you were told that in light of the situation and your poor health, it was necessary that you’d have to remain in the hospital for another day at least. After that it was a matter of judging whether your condition had improved.

You were brought dinner, barely regarding the dull taste as your hungered state simply couldn’t care less. Frankly, the after effects of the prolonged fatigue were still causing you to feel intensely drowsy, and so the rest of the night happened in a blur.

The next thing you knew, you’d settled back down to into your bed, ready to accept another long slumber.

End of Part 2

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snowdice · 4 years ago

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Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 48]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18

Ugh I have so many boring things to do today, so have this.

Chapter 19

Thomas sighed in relief as the door to the royal wing finally came into sight. He was exhausted from his journey to Lamir for many reasons. Beyond just the physically taxing journey, he’d also had to deal with the emotions of loosing someone he had thought of as a friend while also trying to help her young daughter who had just had the crown thrust upon her.

Now he just wanted to see his own child and curl up into bed. He smiled at Owen and Kalani as he approached. “Is Logan here?” he asked.

Owen nodded. “The prince and his royal advisor are having a slumber party.”

Thomas smiled. “Of course, they are,” he said.

He said goodnight to the two guard as they’d be getting off duty soon even if he did manage to drag himself out of his room again tonight and walked past them into the hall.

He walked past the room where they kept the jewels, though was unsurprised to see that the room was unlatched as Patton loved playing around with the different jewelry and had probably left it open when he grabbed them. He was however surprised when his son’s room’s door was thrown open, as Logan usually couldn’t stand for the thing to be open with or without him in it.

Thomas didn’t think much of it however, and simply walked over to look inside. He was surprised when he didn’t see his son or Patton and instead saw that the only person in the room was a young boy that Thomas did not recognize. He was seated in one of Logan’s chairs and had his head tilted looking at himself in the mirror. He seemed to be trying to get a look at the ornament on the back of his head, and Thomas felt his heart seize a little bit when he recognized the hairpin.

He hadn’t recovered from that gut punch when the boy’s eyes drifted and met his in the mirror. There were a couple of long seconds where the two of them stared at each other in silence.

“Hello?” Thomas finally managed to get out.

Panic. There was suddenly horribly intense panic in the child’s eyes, the likes of which Thomas had never seen before. Thomas could only blink dumbly as he hopped to his feet like his seat was suddenly made of hot coals and then threw himself across the room to the opposite side from Thomas.

He looked around himself, back to the wall and considered Thomas with wildly spooked eyes. Clearly, he realized that he was pinned in Logan’s room by Thomas being in the door.

The boy dropped suddenly and disappeared under Logan’s bed.

“Uh,” Thomas said, confused and shocked and still a bit in pain from seeing that piece of jewelry in use. He crossed slowly over to the bed and bent down to look under it, moving the bed skirt slightly to the side. He saw a small shaking blob curled up into itself under the bed. “Um, hi,” he said softly.

The blob did not respond except to continue shaking.

Thomas frowned and settled himself onto the floor. “It’s okay,” he said softly. Had he been here stealing things? Thomas had to wonder as he wasn’t sure why someone here for legitimate reasons would be acting so terrified of being caught. Though, that posed the question of how he’d gotten past the guards, and why Logan hadn’t noticed him. “I’m not mad,” Thomas said. “You’re fine.”

The boy looked up briefly from his knees looking terrified. Thomas tried to smile at him gently, but that just made him hunch into himself more, his breathes coming faster. That wasn’t good.

“No, shh,” Thomas said softly. “It’s okay. I promise it’s okay.” He did not seem to believe him, and Thomas winced. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just leave him here but trying to talk him down himself didn’t seem to be working.

Luckily, a familiar voice spoke from behind him then. “Dad?” Logan asked.

Thomas looked back at him. Both Logan and Patton were standing at the door, a couple of pieces of jewelry in their hands. They seemed very surprised to see him.

“You… seem to have a guest,” Thomas informed them.

“I…” Logan said, beginning to edge into the room like he was expecting something to blow up at any moment. “Yes.” He got to Thomas and squeezed himself between him and the bed, putting a physical barrier between Thomas and the boy. Confused, Thomas took a couple of steps away without challenge. “That,” Logan glanced behind him. Patton had moved to the opposite side of the bed from Logan and Thomas and had gotten to his knees to look under it. “That is Virgil.”

Thomas blinked at him. “Virgil?” he asked.

“He’s… new to the castle,” Logan explained. Patton started speaking softly the boy, but Thomas could not make anything he said out. “Patton and I… invited him to a sleepover.”

“The guards didn’t mention anything,” Thomas said, sure that they would have warned him if there was a stranger in the royal wing.

“Uh, well, Virgil is… shy and we didn’t think you’d be back for another week. So, we snuck him past them.”

“Shy?” Thomas asked doubtfully. That was a lot more than shy.

“Particularly of adults,” Logan said.

Thomas took a moment to let that sink in. “Oh.” He was… scared of adults. Thomas could imagine many reasons why that might be the case and none of them set well. “I see.”

“Hey, no, sweetie, stop that,” Patton said, sounding distressed. Patton had managed to draw Virgil out from underneath the bed, though they were both still mostly hidden behind it and Thomas had no question in his mind that if he went to step towards them, Virgil would be back underneath it in a moment. Currently the boy seemed to be clawing at his own head. “No, baby shh,” Patton said, trying to stop him from tearing the pinned in hairpiece out, Thomas realized. “I’ll get it out,” Patton promised him. “Just calm down and let me do it.” He sounded close to tears, and Thomas couldn’t particularly blame him with the way the boy was acting. “You’re hurting yourself, baby.”

He must know, Thomas realized. If Logan had known he was here, then he must have allowed him to use that hairpiece. He’d probably even told Virgil that it belonged to his dead father. Now he was probably terrified that Thomas would be mad at him for touching it, especially when he’d come in to find Virgil alone without Logan to explain.

Patton managed to get all the pins undone and placed the piece delicately on the bed before wrapping himself protectively around the boy and hushing him.

Logan was looking back at them as well. He looked between the puddle of upset on the floor and Thomas. “Could…” he said. “Could I maybe come and see you in a few minutes, Dad?”

“Of course,” Thomas said. “Of course, I’ll go wait in my room. Take as much time as you need.”

He was careful to move slowly as he stepped towards the door, so the poor thing didn’t notice him move and mistake it for him approaching. He closed Logan’s bedroom door softly behind him feeling even more drained than he’d been before as well as anxious and a bit sickened. He went to his own bedroom to wait for Logan.

Chapter 20

Logan let out a slow breath as his father closed the door behind him. That could have been very, very bad. He turned his attention to Virgil and Patton. Patton had curled himself around Virgil as much as physically possible and had tucked the boy’s head under his chin.

Logan slowly rounded the bed and knelt in front of them. “It’s alright,” Logan said, cautiously moving to put a hand on his shoulder. Virgil didn’t pull away. “I asked him to leave. It’s alright.”

Virgil tilted his head slightly too look at him. Logan rubbed a circle into his back as he slowly got control of his breath.

Logan smiled softly at him and reached out to touch his cheek with a gentle hand. “You… didn’t hurt him. You didn’t even try to hurt him.”

Virgil shook his head.

“Why not?” Logan asked curiously. “It was a perfect opportunity.”

“Promised Patton,” Virgil mumbled, and the idea that perhaps the thing that had saved his father’s life was a pinky promise just about gave Logan a migraine, but then Virgil ducked his head. “And it would make you sad.”

“I see,” Logan said, heart in his throat.

Virgil kept looking towards the floor, his eyes starting to fill with tears again. “Are you going to turn me in now?”

He was shaking and barely holding back a fresh wave of tears. Logan knew of course that no one would hurt him here if he turned him in to his father and the guards, but he also knew that Virgil would be terrified if he did so. He was already terrified. Logan didn’t want to know what he thought the fate Logan would be condemning him to.

“No,” Logan said before he could even truly think it through. “No, I’m not.”

“You’re not?” Virgil asked.

“Well, there wouldn’t really be a point, would there?” Logan asked. “The reason we planned to turn you when father got back in is because you posed a danger to him, but you have just demonstrated that is no longer an issue.”

“Really?” Virgil asked, sniffling a bit and Logan saw Patton’s arms tighten even more around him.

“We will have to figure out a better cover for you than just that you’re new to the castle, but I believe it will work fine. No one besides the two of us would ever guess your origin anyway.”

“S-so I can stay?” Virgil asked, “and you won’t throw me into prison or execute me?”

“I promise you were never going to be executed Virgil,” Logan said. “Even if we turned you in, but yes you can stay with us. We’ll figure out a backstory for you that doesn’t involve assassinations and you’ll have to keep up the lie, but I doubt anyone will question it.”

“I’ll do whatever you want,” Virgil said, chocked up. “Thank you. I really didn’t want to go.”

“Well, you’re our friend now so there will be no going anywhere,” Patton said kissing him on the cheek. Virgil relaxed back into his hold, pleased with the affection.

Logan smiled at them both. “Can I see your wrists, Virgil?”

Virgil blinked but offered them and Logan tapped the restraints doing a quick incantation. They popped off after a moment.

“You’re letting me go?” Virgil asked, eyes wide.

“Of course,” Logan said. “We’re not just going to keep you prisoner for no reason.”

“That’s…” Virgil said, eyes watering as he clearly was trying not to cry. “You’re the best people I’ve ever met.”

“I wish that was not so clearly the case,” Logan replied. He slowly reach up and set a hand on his shoulder. “I’m going to go speak with my father. Patton will stay with you.”

“Okay,” Virgil agreed, seeming a bit hesitant.

Logan smiled softly and leaned forward to gently touch their foreheads together. “I will be right back,” he assured. “We will finish our slumber party, though perhaps we will table the rest of the dress up activity for another night.”

He stood then, leaving Virgil in Patton’s capable hands to exit his own bedroom and cross the hallway to his father’s. He took a brief moment to compose himself before knocking on the door.

“Come in,” his father called.

Logan opened the door to see his father sitting on one of the armchairs in his room. Despite the almost disaster that had taken place a few minutes ago, Logan found himself smiling at the man. It was nice to have him home.

“Sorry about that,” Father said.

“It was more my fault than yours. If I knew there was a risk of you coming home today, I wouldn’t have left him alone.”

“Is he alright?”

“I believe so,” Logan answered. “Patton is with him and will certainly smooth out any lingering distress.”

“Good,” his dad said. “That’s good.” There was a pause and then he gestured at the seat beside his.

Logan settled himself down on it. “How was your trip?” he asked. “You’re back a week early.”

“Yes,” Father said. “The trip went better and worse than anticipated.

“How so?” asked Logan curiously.

“Well,” Dad said. “The purpose of the trip was to convince the new queen of Lamir, Cecil not to ally with Mocnejsi, but by the time I’d arrived there wasn’t really a risk of that.”

“Why not?”

“After investigation, it turned out that Cecil’s mother had been poisoned by an assassin from Mocnejsi.”

“Oh,” Logan said, mind already racing.

“They figured out that one of the young women who had been hired on in the kitchen for the winter had done it, and had learned her origin when they questioned her,” Dad informed him. “Considering Cecil was immediately approached for an alliance with Mocnejsi, their aim was likely to manipulate her going forward because of how young she is. Luckily, Cecil is a smart girl and has the help of her mother’s advisor as well as her own. By the time I got there, my only real role was to extend my condolences and reaffirm out alliance. I would have stayed longer, but the possibility that Mocnejsi may think to attack us in a similar way hastened me home.”

“That…” Logan said. “That is wise. I assume you are going to institute more security.”

“I am, yes,” Dad replied. “I would like your input on plans in the coming day.”

“Of course,” Logan agreed.

Dad smiled at him, “But for now,” he said, “I think it’s time you get back to your slumber party and I get to finally go to sleep.”

Logan nodded and got to his feet. He leaned over to hug his father perhaps a bit longer and harder than was strictly necessary, but Dad did not seem to mind at all. “Goodnight,” Logan said.

“Goodnight, son.”

Chapter 21

Virgil woke with something soft but kind of stringy in his face. That was weird. He didn’t know what in the closet would feel like that. In fact, as he woke more he noticed more things that he couldn’t sus out the origin of, particularly the warmth curled up against his side. Curious, he blinked open his eyes. Oh, right. Patton.

The soft stuff in his face was Patton’s hair and the warmth next to Virgil was the rest of the boy’s body. Patton had all but refused to let Virgil go last night after Logan had taken off the restraints and Virgil hadn’t minded the attention. They must have fallen asleep together in the piles of pillows and blankets on the floor.

Virgil brushed his hair gently away, internally (for fear of disturbing him) shaking his head at him. He’d fallen asleep hallway on top of an assassin. He had no self-preservation instincts. He looked at his wrists. It seemed no one had any self-preservation instincts. This of course, included himself as instead of running off when free in case they decided to turn him in after all, he had fallen asleep on the floor with Patton too.

He looked to the side and saw Logan was already awake, reading on one of his chairs. He seemed to sense Virgil’s eyes on him because he looked up after a moment.

“You can get up if you like,” Logan said. “He is a heavy sleeper and won’t wake up if you squirm out of his grip.”

Virgil frowned, unsure if he wanted to risk it.

“I have breakfast ready for you.”

Okay, Virgil was going to risk it.

He carefully squirmed out of Patton’s grip, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead in apology for leaving him before getting to his feet.

Logan handed him a plate of eggs and toast when he walked over and gestured to the chair next to him. Virgil sat there to eat while Logan continued to read.

Virgil ate his food quickly, and then glanced over at Logan once he was done. Virgil was honestly at a bit of a loss. Usually, they came and got him out of the closet only once they were ready to do something, but Patton was still sound asleep on the floor and Logan looked engrossed in his book.

Virgil fidgeted slightly, unsure what he should be doing or even if he should be doing anything. Considering Logan hadn’t given him any instructions, he should probably not do anything. He didn’t want to screw up the first day of… whatever this was now.

Logan glanced over at him after a few minutes. “Don’t forget about the potion,” he reminded.

Virgil nodded and stood, walking over to the closet since it would still be in there from the previous morning. It was about half gone now and it had gotten to the point where Virgil didn’t feel any immediate affects from it anymore other than some warmth. It basically just felt like drinking tea.

He said as much to Logan when he walked back over to him.

“That’s good,” Logan said, “it means it has been working. It has healed any damage it can from malnutrition. Any internal organs that were damaged should be mostly healed. You may even notice your eyesight getting slightly better. Your immune system should also be boosted. You will likely also find it is easier to gain muscle and while you likely will never be as tall as you could have been, you will likely still grow a few inches during your next growth spirt.”

Virgil studied his hands where they were sitting on his thigh now as though he could see the changes that allegedly had already taken place in his body. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

“Of course,” Logan replied, eyes already back on his book like it was some normal thing and not a huge kindness he’d bestowed on Virgil before even really knowing him. As though Virgil didn’t just owe him more than just his life going forward.

They sat in silence then for a few more minutes, before the was a soft sigh from the floor and Patton started to wake. He sat up and looked around. His eyes landed on both Virgil and Logan sitting together and he seemed to light up.

“Good morning!” he chirped.

“Good morning, Patton,” Logan said as Patton popped to his feet, “I have breakfast for you.”

“Thank you Lo,” Patton said, throwing his arms around Logan’s neck, and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Virgil presumed from the lack of surprise on Logan’s face that this was normal for morning Patton, not that the fact surprised him considering how night Patton acted.

He still managed to be somewhat surprised by the fact that Patton turned to hug Virgil a second later. Patton’s lips were pressed briefly to Virgil’s head and then he turned to grab the plate Logan had saved for him.

“So, what are we doing today?” Patton asked.

“I was thinking Virgil and I could continue our reading lessons if he is not opposed,” Logan said. Virgil nodded, happy with that prospect. “Other than that, I have no plans. I have already spoken with my father before the two of you woke. He is going to spend most of his day catching up on things he missed and said I could take the rest of the day off royal duties.”

“A whole day to relax then!” Patton said, happily chewing on his toast. “Reading sounds fun, but we should do something more active too.”

Logan hummed. “We can show Virgil the courtyard after the reading lessons,” he said.

It took a moment for it to register, but then Virgil froze. “Wait,” he said. “We’re going outside?”

Logan raised an eyebrow at him. “Yes.”

“So, we’re leaving your room?”

“Are you alright with that?” Logan asked cautiously.

Virgil nodded quickly.

“Oh,” Patton said at his enthusiasm. “I guess you have been cooped up a while, haven’t you?” He smiled sadly and turned to Logan. “Maybe we can do reading lessons in the garden.”

“That would be satisfactory.”

“Great!” Patton said. He looked over at Virgil. “If we’re going out, we should probably put your hair up and get you in some clean clothes.”

Logan nodded. “You finish eating, and I will help Virgil find something to wear.”

Logan found him an outfit, though it was a bit baggy on Virgil and the hem of the shirt went halfway to his knees. When Patton finished breakfast, he sat Virgil down and carefully worked a brush through his hair.

“Can I braid it?” Patton asked.

Virgil hummed his consent. Having his hair brushed and done up by another person was a lot more enjoyable than he’d anticipated. He’d liked it when Logan did it the night before, though he had to very firmly push away thoughts of where that led.

“Okay!” Patton said after a few moments. “You look good. Ready to go?”

Virgil nodded and they both led him out into the hall. He paused before they got to the door. “What about the guards?” he asked hesitantly.

“I’ve already given them the same story as I did Dad,” Logan replied. “They know you’re here.”

Virgil still hesitated.

“It’s okay,” Patton promised. “Here, hold my hand?”

Virgil took the offered hand immediately, and Logan stepped in front of them both. Virgil felt himself relax a bit knowing the prince was between him and the guards.

They led him to the door.

Logan greeted both of the guards at the door, and they said good morning back. Both of them glanced at Virgil curiously for a moment making him shrink into himself, but they quickly averted their gazes.

Patton pulled him past them without incident and soon they were in the small dining hall Virgil had passed through his first night here. He remembered how he’d snuck around at the edges of the room in the shadows with the aim to kill the king, but now he was being pulled through the middle with the prince having just wandered past the royal guards in broad daylight like it was nothing.

It was so strange, and Virgil still couldn’t totally believe this was happening. The retraced his exact steps back down the spiral stairs near the kitchen and out of the door he and the nice gardener had came through. He could even see the shed he’d been hiding in from here. With a blink, he remembered they were going to the garden, and he wondered if he’d see the man again.

For now, he just looked around them as Logan and Patton led him past the garden shed towards an area with many trees. Orange and yellow leaves were starting to fall from many of the trees.

They made a satisfying crunching sound under his feet as he was led to a tree. He had seen the group of trees when he’d first arrived here and had even thought about hiding amongst them instead of in the shed, but they’d seemed scary in the dark. They were pretty in the daylight, however, and Virgil found himself tilting his head to watch the branches sway in the slight wind.

Logan sat down under it and pulled out a book and some writing materials from the bag he’d brought. Virgil settled down next to him so they could both look at the book at the same time and Patton flopped down on the other side, immediately setting to work tying fancy knots in the yarn he’d brought with him. Patton shuffled slightly to the side so they bumped shoulders as Logan opened the book and started Virgil’s reading lesson.

Chapter 22

Patton bit his lip to keep from laughing or awing. “Do you like the flower, Virgil?” he asked.

Virgil glanced up at him briefly and then his eyes returned to the flower he’d found. “It’s nice,” he said.

They’d finished the reading lessons and let Virgil explore the garden a bit. He’d found a dark purple and yellow flower (a pansy, Patton thought) and seemed to be endlessly fascinated by it. He’d been staring at it for minutes now, almost as though he expected it to do something. Patton did not quite understand his interest, but he was still adorable.

Logan sat next to him and the flower, smiling at him softly. “I imagine you’ll enjoy the garden in the spring,” Logan said. “There are many more flowers then. Of all types. We’ll have to show you all of the best spots. Mr. Deknis has a particularly good eye for colors, and it is always quite beautiful.”

“Who is Mr. Deknis?” Virgil asked.

“He’s the head gardener,” Logan said. “He’s a nice man, though a bit prickly when it comes to his garden. We may see him today if he’s in this part of the garden.”

“Would he have been the multrum I saw in the gardening shed when I hid there?”

“Ah, yes, that would be him. I was unaware you interacted with anyone in the castle.”

“He caught me in his garden shed, but he wasn’t mean,” Virgil said, he tilted his head curiously at Logan. “Why…” he trailed off.

“Yes?” Logan asked.

“Why is he the gardener?”

Logan looked confused, “Well,” he said, “I guess because he wants to and is good at it.”

“No,” Virgil said with a frown. “I mean. Shouldn’t he… he’s…”

Logan seemed to think hard for a moment. “Right,” he said. “You’ve been under a blood compulsion. I’d guess you would have only worked with multrums in the military.”

“I guess I didn’t realize that they could be other things…”

“Of course, they can,” Logan said. “Their abilities don’t make them any less of people. Mr. Deknis likes to garden so he gardens.”

Virgil blinked at him.

“…Of course, all things considered, that may not be a familiar concept to you.” Virgil turned back to look at the flower instead of answering. “Right,” said Logan.

There were a couple of awkward beats of silence. Patton bit his lip and happened to glance up. “Oh,” he said. “Speaking of Mr. Deknis.” He gestured to the gardener who was coming up the path between the trees.

Logan sat up on his knees as Patton waved at him. He saw Patton and turned to walk towards them. “The two of you had better not be up to mischief in my garden,” Mr. Deknis called, his voice a bit gruff. He clearly did not see Virgil who had laid flat on his stomach to stare at the flower.

Logan rolled his eyes automatically. “We were just reading Mr. Deknis,” he said. “Your piles of dirt are safe.”

“No mud cakes?” Mr. Deknis asked skeptically still coming towards them.

“It has been a literal decade…”

Patton saw when Mr. Deknis was close enough to see Virgil.

He stopped in his track and looked down at Virgil who was already watching him a bit warily. “Hello,” he said, his voice a lot softer than it’d been a few moments before. His expression completely flipped in a moment to something very gentle when he saw Virgil and the cautious look on his face. Virgil did seem to have that effect on people.

“Hi,” Virgil replied.

Mr. Deknis looked at Logan and then at Patton and then back at Virgil. “This is our new friend, Virgil,” Patton offered.

“Hello, Virgil,” Mr. Deknis said with a nod.

“Virgil, this is the gardener Mr. Deknis.”

“He’s not nearly as grumpy as he sounds,” Patton assured.

“Well,” Logan said, “yes he is.”

Mr. Deknis shot him a look that only served to prove Logan’s point if Patton was being honest. Logan just smiled back. Mr. Deknis apparently decided to let it slide because he turned back to Virgil.

“It’s good to see you again,” Mr. Deknis said. “Are you feeling better?”

Virgil nodded. “I’m a lot better,” he said. Mr. Deknis considered him for a moment, clearly reading how true that statement was. Patton was glad he seemed satisfied with the answer.

“I see you’ve met these two.”

“Yeah,” Virgil said.

Mr. Deknis smiled slightly. “Be careful with this one,” he said, pointing to Logan. “He’s a bad influence.”

Virgil frowned in confusion. “He’s the prince,” he pointed out.

“And a bad influence,” Mr. Deknis repeated. “He’s a beacon of irresponsibility and mischief and he corrupts that one,” he nodded to Patton.

“I am completely responsible,” Logan replied.

“Need I remind you of the cucumber incident.”

“I was 8,” Logan said.

“I know how old you were,” Mr. Deknis replied, “and you are hardly any older.”

“I resent that.”

Mr. Deknis just smiled and turned back to Virgil who was watching the interaction with pure curiosity.

“I just picked a few more of those apples for Patton’s mom to make into apple sauce. Would you kids like some?”

Virgil glanced over at Logan and Patton.

“That would be nice, thank you,” Patton replied for them all, standing up. Seeing that, Virgil also climbed to his feet.

“It’s back this way,” Mr. Deknis said, inclining hid head back the way he’d came and then turning to lead them that way. Patton followed him. He glanced back to see Logan put his hand on Virgil’s shoulder and give him a gentle push to get him going. “So, what are you kids up to today?”

“We wanted to show Virgil the garden and courtyard,” Patton said. “He’s been cooped up inside for a bit.”

“I see,” Mr. Deknis said. He glanced back at Virgil. “Feel free to come out in the garden anytime you like. As long as you don’t go about purposefully destroying stuff, I don’t mind you being out here.”

“I won’t destroy anything,” Virgil promised instantly.

“Well I hope you manage to keep that attitude even while befriending the large upright groundhog behind you.”

Virgil looked a little bit nervous. “He’s just teasing Virgil,” Patton assured. “He loves Logan.”

Mr. Deknis glanced back again and seemed to read the same thing Patton had read on Virgil’s face.

“Yes, of course,” Mr. Deknis said. “I have simply known the prince for a long time and joke with him in that way often. Logan is aware of that.”

“Indeed,” Logan agreed, his hand squeezing a bit on Virgil’s shoulder. Virgil relaxed a touch.

Mr. Deknis stopped and reached down into a bucket next to a tree. “I wouldn’t offer my apples to people I don’t like,” he said, tossing an apple underhand to Logan. Instead of trying to catch it, his eyes widened and he dodged out of the way.

“You would however throw apples at them despite knowing they have never been able to catch things.”

Mr. Deknis just rolled his eyes fondly, but Virgil frowned and turned to Logan. “You don’t know how to catch things?” he asked scandalized. “You should know how to catch things. What if someone throws a knife at you?”

Mr. Deknis looked… probably the right amount of concerned about that statement coming from a 14-year-old’s lips.

“Haha, yeah,” Patton said awkwardly. “Maybe you can teach Logan how to catch things Virgil, but later. Right now, why don’t we just get the apples and then show you the courtyard.”

Virgil was still frowning, but he did not argue with Patton’s suggestion.

Thankfully, Mr. Deknis did not push, though Patton did have to dodge many a meaningful side eye. He might… need to make sure he did not get cornered by the gardener in the coming days… or brush up on his lying without lying skills.

For now, though, he just handed out the apples, not tossing them this time. Virgil thanked him softly and Patton could see the way the usually fairly gruff man went all melty at that. He even slipped an extra apple to Virgil for later which Virgil perked up at.

Patton and Logan pulled him away gently after that so Mr. Deknis could go back to work, but Virgil seemed happy with the apples and copied Patton at waving goodbye to him cheerfully.

Despite the fact that he liked Mr. Deknis and he’d been nice, Patton still took a calming breath when they were no longer at risk of lying about something and getting caught by the man’s powers. They went back into the castle towards the courtyard.

Chapter 23

Logan was unsurprised that after showing Virgil the large courtyard, Patton almost immediately decided to instigate a game of tag. They were, after all, here with the goal of getting Virgil a bit active after having had him only in Logan’s room for weeks.

He was also unsurprised that Virgil seemed confused about the concept of tag, and Patton had to explain the game in detail to him.

It made him wince, but he still was unsurprised when Virgil went about inquiring after the consequences of losing the game.

He was, however, very surprised when, after getting all of the facts about tag settle, Patton was chasing after Virgil trying to tag him and suddenly the boy disappeared.

Patton almost ran into a wall in his confusion. He stared at his hands stretched out and just a couple of inches from touching the wall for a moment, before slowly looking up.

“Virgil!” Patton exclaimed. “What?”

“What?” he asked.

“…What are you even hanging onto?”

“The wall,” Virgil replied.

Logan walked closer to the two of them and tilted his head up to look at him. Virgil had jumped up and somehow managed to find hand and foot holes on the seemingly smooth wall. He climbed about 5 meters above their heads and was peering down at them curiously.

“Okay,” Logan said. “New rule. Virgil is not allowed to scale walls during tag.”

Virgil frowned down at him. “Why only me?”

“Because Patton and I cannot do that anyway,” Logan said. “We would not be able to actually play if you remain up there.”

Patton glanced over at him and reached over to touch Logan’s shoulder. “No tag backs,” he said. Logan glared at him. “Why don’t you come down sweetie?”

“But Logan will tag me,” he said.

“Well, honey, that’s part of the fun,” Patton reasoned. “Don’t you want to try being it?”

Virgil seemed to consider this for a long moment. “Okay,” he agreed.

To Logan’s terror, he simply let go of the wall, falling straight down and landing crouched. He blinked at Logan. Right. With a start, Patton took off, so he’d have a head start. “No tag backs means a 10 second head start for me,” Logan reminded. Virgil nodded, and Logan reached out to poke him in the arm before immediately running off in the opposite direction as Patton.

Logan’s strategy worked out since, knowing he couldn’t go after Logan for a few seconds more, he chose to turn and go after Patton. After finding one of the statues to hide behind on the edge of the courtyard, Logan risked glancing back.

Virgil was faster than Logan (and likely Patton) had accounted for. Patton had gotten a good head start on him, but Virgil closed it quickly. Patton shrieked as Virgil barreled into him, bringing them both to the ground.

“Virgil!” Logan heard Patton giggle. Logan figured he was more than okay despite the tackle. “This isn’t how you play tag!”

“I combined tag and tackle hugs,” Virgil declared, making Patton giggle more.

“That’s very innovative, honey,” Patton said. “Now are you going to let me up?...Virgil… I’m counting down your 10 second head start in my head, and if you don’t let me up I’m going to tag you again.”

This did not seem to have the intended effect as Virgil did not remove himself from Patton’s person. Patton laugh when it became clear he was not going to move and began counting down “7, 6, 5, 4, you’d better let me go sweetie, or you’re going to get tagged again.” Virgil did not seem to care. “3, 2, 1.” Patton reached up and bopped him on the nose. “Tag!” he declared.

Logan was surprised when Virgil instantly jumped off Patton at that. He whipped around.

‘Oh,’ Logan thought as the boy’s eyes narrowed in on Logan immediately, ‘I see.’

“Virgil was already halfway across the courtyard towards him before Logan could even think about running away. There was no way that he was fast enough to outrun him. Perhaps he could outthink him, he thought. His eyes scanned his environment in the seconds he had left and landed on a large square piece of stone that held flowers in the spring. It was just full of dirt now, but it was still about waist high. Perhaps if he kept that between them, he could outmaneuver him. He sprinted towards it and scrambled to the opposite side from where Virgil was heading.

He really should not have been as surprised as he was that Virgil did not even slightly slow as he approached the planter box, instead grabbing ahold of the side of it and vaulting over it. Logan stumbled back, bracing for impact, but instead he just got a quick tap on the shoulder.

Logan blinked at him.

“I don’t know if you would be okay with tackle hugs,” he explained.

Logan considered him. “I would be okay with a nontackle hug.”

Virgil happily jumped forward to hug Logan, pressing his nose into Logan’s shoulder. Logan chuckled and patted the top of his head. “Six,” he said, “5, 4, 3…”

Virgil bolted away suddenly, actually making Logan stumble a bit. He paused just out of reach of Logan, looking at him with anticipation. “2,1,” Logan finished with a raised eyebrow. He already knew he was being played with, but he indulged him by starting towards him. Virgil danced out of the way, eyes alight. Logan sighed. “Is this truly how it’s going to be?” he asked.

Virgil didn’t answer, but to watch him with wide, excited eyes.

“Fine,” Logan said. He dashed towards him again, only to have him continue to maneuver just out of Logan’s reach each time Logan went forward. He’d call it taunting if there was any sign of malice in it.

They ran around the courtyard in spirts of Logan charging at him and Virgil expertly dodging. Eventually Patton came closer to them. Logan could tell that Virgil was aware of his presence, by how he glanced back at him briefly, but considering he was not ‘it,’ it seemed he chose to disregard him. However, he was not aware of the way Patton winked at Logan as he walked up behind Virgil.

Logan, on the other hand, knew exactly what was happening. He went to spring for Virgil again, and Virgil again moved to dodge, but this time Patton grabbed him around the waist, allowing Logan to actually tag him.

He turned slowly to face Patton who started to giggle immediately at the perplexed look on his face. It cleared into something else as soon as he heard Patton laugh. “Traitor!” he claimed. “We were on the same team and you betrayed me.”

“I just thought we should probably have mercy on poor Logan,” Patton replied.

“Hmm,” Virgil said, eyes again full of that playful mischief Logan had not seen until today. “Plea for mercy not accepted.”

Patton once again half-shrieked half-laughed as he was pounced on. The two of them went rolling across the grass, Virgil clearly keeping the rolling going longer than it should have as they made it a good few meters.

Virgil sprung off of him a few moments later.

“Oh, is it my turn?” Patton inquired with a huge smile. He slowly got to his feet. “Hmm, I’m probably at about 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!” He took off after Virgil, but Patton had a bit more endurance than Logan, so instead of doing quickly calculated lunges at Virgil as Logan had done, he just ran at him full tilt without stopping.

Virgil ran from him, though Logan was pretty sure he was intentionally slowing himself down a bit so Patton had some amount of a chance. He kept turning to check behind him and make sure Patton was still somewhat close as he ran.

Which is why he didn’t see the imminent disaster in time.

Chapter 24

Thomas should have been paying more attention, but his mind had been on the meeting he’d just had with the castle guards about increased security in the wake of the possible threat from Mocnejsi. He’d decided to take a brief walk around the courtyard to clear his head but was still distracted with mulling over the options that had just been presented to him. He stepped into the castle courtyard and did not have time to step out of the way of the much smaller body rocketing towards him. Virgil slammed into his front, but not before Thomas got a good look at his face.

Virgil’s expression changed dramatically in the few seconds between him registering Thomas was there and running into him. For the briefest moment, Thomas could see that he must have been having a lot of fun. He’d caught the wide smile and sparkling eyes as Virgil turned his head back from looking at Patton who was chasing him across the greenery. He’d looked very happy which made it all the more painful to see that happiness die in and a few instants. When his head had turned back towards Thomas, there was a flicker of confusion at something being in his path.

Then, clearly everything about the situation registered, because his eyes blew wide in horror as he tried to stop himself, but there was no way he’d be able to in time. Thomas saw that fact register on his face the moment before he hit. Gone was any trace of happiness or joy in that split second. All that was left was dread that had no place anywhere near a children’s game of tag. It was the expression Thomas would expect from someone who felt ice give way under their feet in the middle of a lake they had thought was frozen solid.

He hit hard, but he wasn’t nearly big enough to actually harm Thomas. Thomas was thrown slightly off balance but managed to stay on his feet. He reached out a hand to his shoulder automatically to steady the child. There was a moment of pseudo calm where they both absorbed the impact and stilled.

Then, the boy’s shoulder slipped out of Thomas’s grip as he went crashing to the ground in a move that made Thomas wince for the state of his knees. Thomas couldn’t quite grasp what was happening for a moment as Virgil face planted onto the ground in front of him, but when he did, Thomas couldn’t help but flinch and take a step back from him.

Thomas had been bowed to before, of course, seeing as he was a king, but this was not out of respect or courtesy or even just tradition. This was out of terror. He was begging for mercy and it made Thomas feel sick.

“I’m sorry,” he said, meek and shaky into the ground, and there was almost something worse about the fact that he did not beg for forgiveness with his words, but only his posture. The way his breathes came far too quick and shallow said he was likely on the verge of a panic attack, but he was not blubbering through apologies or even not speaking at all. He gave a clear, if shaky, apology, and waited for whatever he thought Thomas planned to do to him. There was no way that was not learned.

“You don’t…” Thomas stuttered. “You don’t have to do that. It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again, but he reacted in no other way. He did not even react when Patton made it to his side and knelt down next to him. Patton’s hand hovered over his back, clearly wanting to touch down, but he pulled back on that instinct.

“Virgil, honey,” he said softly. “It’s okay. No one is mad. It was an accident.”

Virgil did not react to this at all.

Thomas caught Logan’s eye as he hurried over to them himself. “Sorry,” Thomas mouthed. Logan just nodded and turned his attention to his friend.

“There is no reason for any of that,” Logan said, his voice firm, almost clipped. “You are not in trouble. Now sit up.”

Virgil did respond to that, slowly shifting back on his knees. He kept his head down looking at the ground. “Sorry,” he said again.

“I…” Thomas said, surveying the three kids on the ground in front of him. Thomas slowly sunk to the ground to be at their level. Virgil was tracking his movements out of the corner of his eyes, his head still bowed and his shoulders tensed. “Hey,” Thomas said softly. “Were you three playing tag?”

Virgil hesitated, eyes flickering as he debated whether he should respond or not.

“Yeah, we were,” Patton answered for him after a moment of stressful silence.

“Well that’s fun,” Thomas said. “I’m sorry for interrupting the three of you. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

Virgil glanced up at him for just a moment before looking away again. Patton apparently felt it was safe enough to touch Virgil, because he settled a hand on the boys shoulder.

“Yeah, we’ve just been having a fun day,” Patton said, carefully matching Thomas’s light tone. “We went to the garden and did some reading. Then, Mr. Deknis gave us some apples.”

“That’s nice,” Thomas replied. “He’s been talking about the new apples he’s been growing. He’s been working on them for years and they’re just beginning to bare fruit this year. I haven’t gotten a chance to try any yet. Are they any good?”

“They’re very good,” Patton told him. His hand rubbed slowly on Virgil’s back. “Isn’t that right, Virge?”

Virgil nodded a bit, a little less tense now, but still nowhere near calm.

“Well, I’ll have to try them soon,” Thomas said with a smile. “Thank you for the information. Now, I’ve got to get back to what I’m doing, but I hope you three have a good day.”

“I’ll see you later, Dad,” Logan said.

Thomas nodded and pushed himself to his feet. “Goodbye you three,” he said before turning away towards the door back into the castle. He paused to take a breath when the door closed behind him, cutting off the courtyard. There were a lot of thoughts to shirt through in regards to that conversation. He hated that Virgil was so obviously terrified of him. Both of their two interactions had ended with the poor thing panicking on the ground. He wished he had some idea of how to help him or at least someone to talk to about it.

Maybe he’d go visit Mr. Deknis himself and not just for the apples.

Chapter 25

“Alright,” Patton said, pressing a kiss to Virgil’s forehead. “I’ve got to go back to my room for the night. Will you two be okay?”

“We’ll be fine,” Logan said. “It won’t be particularly different than the last two weeks.”

Patton nodded and leaned to the side to squeeze Virgil in another hug. He’d been clingy since the incident in the courtyard, and Virgil had been appreciative considering he was still pretty shaky from it. He was still surprised he’d touched the king of Prijaznia (let alone ran into him) and lived to tell the tale.

“Goodnight, Pat,” Virgil said because he was pretty sure he wouldn’t leave if Virgil didn’t.

“Night Virge,” Patton said with a smile before standing up from where they’d been sitting on the ground. He reached over to hug Logan who was sitting on a chair. “Night Lo! Put the book down and go to bed.”

Logan looked up from his book with a frown.

“It’s almost midnight,” Patton scolded.

Logan sighed and set his book down. “Very well,” he agreed. “We will get ready for bed.”

“You better! I’m going to come and wake you up early in the morning.”

“Early in the morning for you is 9am,” Logan scoffed.

Patton stuck his tongue out at him as he walked backwards out of the door.

Logan gave his book a mournful look once the door closed and Virgil almost giggled. “I won’t tell on you,” he said.

Logan thought about it for a few moments. “No,” he finally said. “We should probably get some sleep.”

Virgil nodded and pushed himself to his feet.

“We should probably both take a bath after sitting in the dirt today,” Logan said. “Do you want to go first or should I?”

“Don’t care,” Virgil answered.

“You can go first,” Logan offered.

Virgil felt himself smile. “You just want to finish the chapter in that book,” he accused.

“Perhaps,” Logan conceded.

Virgil just grinned and walked over to his closet to grab one of the outfits he’d been given for pajamas. He chose a pair of baggy shorts that went past his knees and the huge soft black sweater Logan had found in the back of his closet. He headed into the bathroom, noting Logan had already picked up his book again.

Logan may have declared the both of them dirty enough for bathing a few minutes before, but Virgil was cleaner than he thought he’d ever been before coming to the castle. Logan had taught him how to use the tub and what soaps to use for what a couple of days after he’d arrived and had suggested he clean himself regularly.

Virgil didn’t mind. The tub was enchanted to warm the water inside of it and Virgil loved it. Though, that had the negative affect of making it very difficult to leave.

He cleaned himself up quickly, so he’d have a few minutes to just sit in the water before he felt like he needed to get out and let Logan have a turn. He changed into his pajamas, pulling the crescent shaped protection charm out of his day clothes pocket and storing the warm to the touch stone in the short pocket. He used the clip Patton had made it to pin it to the cloth to make sure he wouldn’t lose it.

Logan was engrossed in his reading by the time that Virgil exited the bathroom. He did not look up as Virgil approached.

“Your turn,” Virgil said to him.

Logan clearly just barely managed to tear his eyes away from the book. “Right,” he said. “Yes.”

“The book will be there in the morning,” Virgil reminded.

“I know,” said Logan sadly as he set the book aside.

Logan never took much time in the bath, so Virgil quickly went about getting ready for bed the rest of the way. He put his day clothes in the basket Logan had for that purpose and started to straighten out the blankets and pillows in the closet.

He heard Logan come back into the room a few minutes later.

“Virgil,” Logan said. “What are you doing?”

Virgil looked over at him. “Getting ready for bed,” he answered, confused.

Logan frowned at him. “You don’t sleep in the closet anymore,” Logan said. “That’s only for when we were worried you might escape.”

“Oh,” Virgil said blinking over at him. “Right.” He felt a slight pulling at his chest. He liked the closet. It was warm and soft. Patton had taken a lot of care with how he’d arranged all of the pillows and blankets. It was the best place he could ever remember having to sleep in his life. Yet, he did not argue. He knew getting to sleep out in the open was supposed to be a reward and he wasn’t about to reject it.

Virgil stood and closed the closet. He tugged on the bottom of his sweater, stretching the fabric between his hands as he watched Logan pull down the covers of his bed and settle down onto it. Cautiously he walked over towards the bed. He wasn’t sure where he should lay down exactly. He dithered for a moment before bending down to sit on the floor near the right side of Logan’s bed and then laying down.

There was shuffling on the bed above him and then Logan’s head popped over the side to squint down at him. “On the bed Virgil,” he said.

Virgil looked up at him in shock. “But it… I’m…” He trailed off and there were a few seconds of silence.

“It is just a bed Virgil,” Logan said.

But it wasn’t ‘just’ anything. Virgil was pretty sure touching the bed of a royal family member without permission would be considered a capital offence. At least, it would in Mocnejsi. Yet, Logan was expecting him to just… crawl into it?

“Please just get up here,” Logan said. Virgil’s caution at touching something he was definitely sure he should not be allowed to be touching wared with his resolve to repay his literal life debt to Logan by doing whatever he wanted.

Feeling honestly a bit sick to his stomach, Virgil slowly pushed himself back to his feet. Logan scooted back over to the left side of the bed, and Virgil cautiously sat down on the empty side of the bed. After a second of hesitation he slowly laid down, his head hitting a soft fluffy pillow. He jumped when Logan flopped the covers on top of both of them.

Virgil took a long moment to absorb the situation while Logan took off his glasses and reached over to turn off the light next to him. He’d never slept in a bed before, or if he had he’d been too young to remember. In the orphanage there was a lack of actual beds due to overcrowding and there had always been someone bigger and stronger that Virgil didn’t dare fight for the use of them. During training, none of the kids had a bed. Only a few of the higher ups had ones at the more permanent training sites. There were very few situations where any of the assassins, at least a Virgil’s level, would be allowed to touch a real bed.

The light switched off, plunging them into darkness.

“Is this…?” Virgil said, eyes still pointed towards the ceiling even though his eyes had not adjusted to the darkness enough to be able to see it. “Do you want… things?”

“Things?” Logan asked.

Virgil did not move his head, but he did reach over and put his hand slightly above Logan’s knee. Logan didn’t move, so Virgil slid his hand up.

Virgil’s wrist was grabbed immediately and pulled firmly away from Logan’s inner thigh. He did not let go afterwards, his fingers squeezing hard, but not quite painfully. “Never,” Logan said, his voice harsher than it had ever been even on the day when Virgil was nothing more than an intruder with deadly intent. “Never offer anything like that to anyone ever again.”

“I was just…”

“I know what you were doing,” Logan said, voice icy, “and it inadmissible. Never offer that again for anything. Do you understand me?”

“I... yes.”

“Promise me.”

Virgil took a short moment to think. “I promise,” he agreed.

“Good,” Logan said, releasing his hand. His voice got softer too. “Good.”

They were silent for a long time after that, though Virgil had no delusions that Logan had fallen asleep. He could almost feel the tension.

“Sorry,” Virgil finally said softly.

“It’s not something you should be apologizing for,” Logan replied. The bed moved as Logan shifted and a hand lightly touched the top of his head. “Just… never.”

“Okay,” Virgil said. He shifted slightly after a moment until his head was in the crook of Logan’s arm. Logan brushed the hair out of his face with the hand that had been on his head.

“Goodnight Virgil,” Logan said.

“Goodnight,” Virgil responded. They were quiet after that, though Virgil was still awake for a while yet and Logan’s hand slowly stroked through his hair for a while. Eventually though, Virgil relaxed into mattress. He stuck his hand into his pocket and curled it around the charm in his pocket. The bed was nice, he thought. It was soft and warm… and safe. He finally fell asleep.

Chapter 26

Patton did their new special knock on the door so Logan and Virgil would know it was just him and they didn’t need to hide the fact that Virgil was sleeping in the prince’s room. He didn’t wait for a response, however, and just shoved open the door. He was surprised to see that Logan was not already out of bed and wondered for a moment if he had broken his promise stayed up way too late reading like he was sometimes known to do. Yet, then, Logan spoke from the bed. “I’m awake,” he called.

Confused, Patton stepped into the room. Logan wasn’t one for lazing around in bed; usually he was out of bed the moment he woke.

He stepped over to the bed and had to stifle a smile when he recognized the problem. Logan was awake, but Virgil was still sleeping, and he was half on top of Logan, his arms wrapped around him.

“Why don’t you just squirm out of his arms like you do me?” Patton asked, keeping his voice low.

“He isn’t like you,” Logan said. He did not bother to quiet himself at all.

“What do you mean?” Patton asked amused.

In answer, Logan started to move as though to squirm out of Virgil’s death grip on him. In response, Virgil made a pitiful mewling sound in his sleep that landed like a piercing blow straight to the heart. Logan stopped moving immediately and Virgil shifted to grip Logan tighter.

“Aw!” Patton said.

“It’s not cute,” Logan insisted. “I’ve been stuck for hours and I have to pee.”

Patton chuckled. “Alright, alright, I’ll save you.” He rounded the bed to Virgil’s side and crawled up on it. “Virgil, honey,” he entreated softly. “I think it’s time for me to get cuddles so Lo can get up.” Patton softly touched Virgil’s shoulder and pulled at him gently. He reached forward to carefully pry Virgil’s arms off of Logan.

Virgil made a more confused than heartbreaking sound this time, turning towards Patton so Patton could wrap his arms around him. Logan managed to scoot towards the edge of the bed.

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Logan made it off the bed and dashed towards the bathroom as Virgil’s arms came around Patton and squeezed. Patton laughed and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. After a few moments, Virgil’s eyes started to flicker a bit.

“Good morning, honey,” Patton said softly. “Did you sleep good?”

He hummed sleepily. “Beds are nice,” he said. Patton felt a slight pang at that because it implied he didn’t get to sleep in beds very much, but he chose to shove that aside.

“They are,” Patton agreed. Virgil’s eyes started to close again. “Honey,” Patton laughed. “I think it’s time to wake up now.”

Virgil made a sleepy whining sound, squeezing Patton tighter. “Don’t you want breakfast?” Patton asked. That question managed to make Virgil open his eyes again. “I was thinking we could go down to the kitchen to eat that way it’s nice and fresh and I can introduce you to Mama real quick.” He neglected to mention the fact that they really did not have a choice. Mr. Deknis had blabbed to Mama about Virgil, and worse, had apparently mentioned that Virgil was skinny. As soon as he’d gotten home yesterday, he’d been met with an already worked up Mama firmly insisting that she meet Virgil sometime today.

He wasn’t going to tell Virgil that though, because he thought it might scare him away from both Mama and Mr. Deknis.

Virgil thought about the prospect of breakfast for a long moment. “Fine,” he agreed. “I’ll be awake.”

“Good,” Patton said. He reached up to bop him on the nose. Virgil narrowed his eyes and then bopped him back making Patton giggle. He sat up then, and Virgil let him. “Let’s get you something to wear and do your hair,” Patton suggested. Virgil nodded and reluctantly got out of bed, just as Logan returned to the room. “We’re going to go downstairs for breakfast,” Patton told Logan. “That way Virgil can meet my mom.” He gave Logan a significant look and Logan nodded once in understanding that this was not a choice.

Logan and Virgil got dressed, and Patton did Virgil’s hair up nice, before Patton led them out of the royal wing. They went down the main staircase instead of the spiral staircase that went right to the kitchen, mostly because it would be very busy, and Patton thought they should probably eat in the main dining room anyway. He could feel Virgil getting more anxious as they entered the busier part of the castle, and he stuck close to either Patton or Logan from the time they hit the top of the steps all the way to the main dining room.

There were a few people in the dining room already eating breakfast when they arrived. Virgil’s curiosity seemed to temporarily overwhelm his anxiety as he looked around the large hall and at all of the people there. Patton looked around trying to see it through his eyes. He’d been running around this place since he was little, so he never really thought about how big the room was or how grandly it was decorated, but Virgil was just seeing it for the first time. Patton smiled at him as he guided him to one of the seats. There was already muffins on the table so Patton grabbed one and plopped it in front of Virgil.

Virgil frowned down at the muffin dubiously. “You just… keep food out in the open?” he asked.

Right.

“It’s fine, Virgil,” Patton promised. “No one here would have put anything in it.”

Virgil narrowed his eyes and looked around at the other occupants of the room suspiciously.

“Honestly,” Logan said. “No one even knew we would be down here for breakfast. Nobody would just put something in random people’s food for no reason.”

Virgil gave him a look like he’d just told him people could in fact breathe under water. Virgil was really from a… whole different world, wasn’t he?

“It’s really fine,” Patton said. “Logan and I have eaten things on the table like this a lot.”

“I’m surprised your not dead yet,” Virgil said.

Logan rolled his eyes and reached for a muffin. Virgil slapped it out of his hand and onto the floor. “Really?” Logan asked.

Virgil narrowed his eyes at him. “No eating unsecured food!”

“Virgil,” Logan groaned.

“I bet you don’t even know what common poisons taste like.”

“No,” Logan said. “I don’t because I don’t worry about being poisoned on a daily basis!”

“You should!”

People were starting to look over at them. Patton shot an awkward smile at the woman a few chairs down.

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“Just don’t eat the muffins Logan,” Patton said under his breath.

“I do not understand why-”

“Because it’s stupid as he-”

“Shush,” Patton commanded out of the corner of his mouth, “people are watching, and Virgil is just a normal castle resident.”

That shut the both of them up at least.

“No muffins for now,” Patton said. “I assume it’s okay to eat the things they bring straight from the kitchen.”

Virgil looked a bit leery of this still, but he nodded.

“Good,” Patton said, “then we’ll just wait for that to get here and then everyone will be happy, right?”

Logan opened his mouth and Patton turned to glare at him.

“Right?”

Logan closed his mouth, though clearly, he did not want to give in so easily. They’d be doubtlessly rehashing this conversation once they were alone again.

Patton caught sight of one of the kitchen workers he knew fairly well come out of the kitchen and deliver food to a group of people who were there before them. She caught sight of them and walked over likely to ask them what they wanted for breakfast. Patton watched out of the corner of his eye as Virgil tensed, eyeing her approach suspiciously and she slowed under his glare.

This was going to be a long breakfast.

Chapter 27

After an, honestly quite aggravating, breakfast full of Virgil’s cognitive distortions about the likelihood of being poisoned, Logan was relieved to finally be able to leave the dining area. In consideration to those serving breakfast, Patton did not lead them through the door in the back of the dining room that went directly to the kitchen, and instead took them out of the room and down the hall to a different entrance. This one had a guard stationed across from it as, despite what Virgil may believe, the castle workers did consider the possibility that someone would want to sneak into the kitchen for nefarious purposes.

Said guard, of course, saw nothing wrong with the prince and the head chef’s son entering the side door even with the bonus stranger. In fact, he may even have known Virgil could be coming through this door if Ms. Heart had mentioned him.

Though Virgil hadn’t managed to catch it, Logan knew enough about Patton’s mother that he’d surmised that she had insisted Patton bring the boy to meet her. It was bound to happen at some point anyway, Logan knew, and he wasn’t particularly worried. After all, this was Patton’s mother. Virgil himself didn’t even seem particularly concerned.

Logan had seen him panic and, while he tugged a bit at the sweater he was wearing, the motion was not particularly fervent, so he was likely just slightly nervous.

Of course, that may be because he did not know Patton’s mother specifically wanted to meet him and just assumed that they were starting the necessary process of introducing him to castle residents with a low risk person.

When they entered the hallway, Logan could already hear the usual noises of the kitchen: the clattering of plates, the bubble of conversation, and the sound of Ms. Heart’s voice calling out instructions.

He did see Virgil hesitate, but Logan couldn’t sus out why and Patton was already ahead of them and opening the door into the kitchen. It was fairly calm for the kitchen considering it was meal hours. Logan imagined that Patton had chosen the time between when the day guards ate breakfast before their shifts and the night guards after their shifts on purpose. There was still a bit of chaos as dishwashers attempted to catch up during the lull and a few orders were still being made, but overall the mood seemed, to Logan at least, to be light as Ms. Heart ordered her kitchen around.

Yet, Virgil clearly did not see the situation the same way that Logan did. He froze when the kitchen door swung open and some of the workers turned to look at them. He took a step back, bumped into Logan, startled violently, realized it was Logan, and then side stepped to hide behind him. Logan looked back at him in confusion, but Virgil said nothing, proceeding to mutely peer over Logan’s shoulder.

Patton had moved over to greet his mother as she wiped her hands off on a rag. She glanced over at Virgil and Logan and Logan saw Virgil shrink back a bit.

Logan could see Ms. Heart’s eyes soften as she tracked his movement. She turned to the woman next to her and said something before moving to remove her apron and hang it up in its designated area. Virgil’s hands clenched in the fabric of Logan’s shirt when she turned back to him.

“It’s fine, Virgil,” Logan told him, but Virgil didn’t seem to believe him. Luckily, Patton had turned back and seemed to realize something was amiss.

He stepped back over to them. “Hey, honey,” he said. A plate clattered in the kitchen and Virgil just about ripped Logan’s shirt.

Patton frowned sympathetically. “Too loud?”

“Virgil,” Logan said. “You are digging your fingernails into my skin.” Patton shot Logan a glare. “What?”

“How about,” Patton’s mom suggested. Virgil’s fingernails dug more into Logan’s skin. “We go to my office.”

“I think that’s a good idea, Mama,” Patton said. “Come here, Virgil.” He reached over to touch one of Virgil’s hands and had to pull a bit to get him to release Logan. “It’s back that way, away from the kitchen,” he said when he managed to twine their fingers. He stepped around Logan, probably so there was still a buffer between Virgil and the kitchen and tugged him in the correct direction.

Ms. Heart shot a glance at Logan and Logan felt irrationally like she was trying to read his thoughts. Logan smoothed his features out and turned to follow Patton and Virgil towards her office.

As head chef, Ms. Heart had a small office where she could plan menus without the hustle and bustle of the kitchen and have meeting with people who needed to discuss dietary needs and restrictions. It was very well organized, but still looked fairly messy because of the numbers of decorations she had in it. She had a tendency to keep everything that Patton made her, thus she had his childhood drawings on the wall and little projects stacked on her desk and on the shelves. A lumpy cat statue acted as a paperweight on a stack of papers on her desk and there was a vase of fake flowers (as it could not actually hold water) sat near the window.

By the time Logan entered the room, Patton was trying to coax Virgil into sitting down on one of the two mismatched chairs, but Virgil was having none of it. He had turned to face the door and was yanking at his sweater in nervousness.

Logan noticed that Ms. Heart did not come far into the room, instead pausing near the door. She did, however close the door to give them privacy, and that seemed to distress Virgil more.

She seemed to contemplate him for a moment. “Hello,” she said, her voice softer than Logan was used to hearing. “You must be Virgil.”

It seemed as though he were willing himself to magically shrink, but he still replied. “Yes, ma’am,” he said quietly.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said. “I’m Patton’s mom.”

“I know, ma’am.”

“There’s no need to be formal, Virgil.”

He hesitated. “Okay,” he said somehow quieter.

Her eyebrows drew together in concern, and it seemed that she decided to result to her default way of making people more comfortable. “Would you kids like some candy?”

Logan saw Patton’s hand squeeze Virgil’s lightly. “That would be great, Mama.”

She nodded and walked forward towards her desk. Virgil turned so his back was never to her. If she noticed, she didn’t react. She just grabbed a small tin off one of her shelves and took the top off. “How about a peppermint candy?” she asked.

She offered the tin out to them. Virgil stared at it like it was a venomous snake. Logan decided to act, stepping forward and taking three of the pieces of peppermint candy from the dish. He stepped over to Virgil and Patton and held out his hand, offering Virgil first choice out of all three.

He hesitated before glancing between Patton and his mother. He must have decided that Patton’s mom wouldn’t risk poisoning Patton and took one of the pieces. Patton took another one of them and popped it into his mouth. Logan ate the last piece.

“Thanks,” Virgil said to Ms. Heart before placing his piece in his mouth.

#proofread stories #not writing

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keelywolfe · 4 years ago

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FIC: The Rose and the Thorn: Chapter 13 (Mafia AU)

Summary: Rus fled after his argument with Blue, leaving his brother behind to try to pick up the pieces. Blue has already been forced to choose between the devil and the deep blue sea, what other deal might he have to make?

Tags: Spicyhoney, Cherryberry, Mafia AU, Flower Shop AU, Violence, First Meetings

Warning: Warnings for implications of prostitution.

~~*~~

Read Chapter 13 on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

“Wait!” Blue cried. Too late, far too late, his little brother was already gone, stepped into one of those shortcuts of his that Blue usually appreciated, relieved that his brother could easily escape from any awful confrontations. He hadn’t used that particular skill against Blue since he’d been a frustrated child, chafing at the limits Blue put on his wandering in the Underground. He’d never needed to, until now, and Blue sank to sit again on the bathroom rug, burying his skull in his hands and struggling to breathe through the heavy, steamed air from the still running shower.

Stupid, Blue thought tiredly. Blaming Papy for his own idiocy, taking out the frustrations he didn’t dare let loose anywhere else on his undeserving little brother. Papy was so sweet and kind, still clinging to some of his naivety even in this unwelcoming Human world; how could Blue ever have expected him to handle someone like that Edge fellow? If Red made him deeply uncomfortable and fearful, then Edge was so much worse. Red at least he understood, he knew what that brother wanted of him, product and sex, in that order, and once he got it, Red would dismiss them out of hand, hopefully without leaving too many scars behind.

Edge held mysteries behind that polite demeanor of his and Blue rather wished either he was taller or Edge was a great deal shorter, because he would have liked a good look in the large skeleton’s eye lights, trying to read exactly what was hidden within them. If only he simply wanted sex from Papy, that at least would only break his brother’s heart. Blue was far more worried about the state of his soul.

And then he went and gave stabbing through it himself a good try, Blue thought glumly. The brief, bitter satisfaction of watching his words strike home was almost immediately swamped by horrified regret as his little brother’s expression crumpled, the first tears falling. Blue couldn’t know how much truth any of his accusations held, but even if they were, Papy didn’t deserve that. Not when Blue well knew how easy it was to make mistakes.

He really was just like their father, blaming others for his blunders—no.

No, it was this place. He needed to get them out of here, away from the Fells, any way that he could.

Blue dragged himself upright and to the shower, reaching inside to turn off the taps and barely wincing as steaming hot water soaked through his shirt. He felt brittle and exhausted, had since late this afternoon when the weight of cameras watching him grow golden flowers became too much to bear. An uncaring mechanical eye watching as he did the very thing he’d promised himself he wouldn’t by getting involved with this sort of people. It brought back too many memories of living in the Underground and doing whatever it took to support him and his brother after their father…well…after he was gone.

He’d sworn he wouldn’t do such things again, made a promise to himself when they came to the surface and knowing he was breaking it left him nauseous, sickened by his own deceit. In the end, Blue filled most of the planting boxes in that room until it became too much, claustrophobia swarming over him, dimming his vision even as his gorge rose. He’d nearly staggered out the door and begged the guard outside to take him for some fresh air.

The Dog, Dogamy, he later learned, did so with some haste, perhaps worried that Blue was about to vomit on his very nice shoes. Instead of bringing him downstairs or to a handy window, Dogamy led him up to the rooftop and both the fresh air and the small garden was a blessing. Something to take his mind off of what he was doing in that closed off little room and when he’d finally brought Papy back upstairs with him, Blue could almost pretend this was why they were here, tending to an overgrown garden for some wealthy benefactor and soon they’d go back to their own little house and plants, back to their simpler life of flowers and hard work.

Then he’d looked up to see his brother and Edge kissing, and his meager daydream shattered.

Blue felt far too old for his years as he shuffled back out into the bedroom, stripping off his sopping shirt and tossing it into the discreet hamper next to the closet. The closet itself held plenty of clothes, far too many for what was only supposed to be a short stay here, and a brief pang of worry tightened in his chest as he wondered about their closed shop slowly losing their regular customers, his garden overgrown and going to seed without his care.

He shook it away. It didn’t matter, they’d managed before and they could do it again. Nothing mattered but keeping his brother safe.

Blue chose one of the shirts in his size at random, forced to yank it down and leaving the hanger at an awkward angle. He shrugged into it, buttoning it up as he made his way to the loveseat to sit and wait.

And wait. Hours passed and his brother did not return while the heavy weight of worry and regret nesting in Blue’s soul hatching into something closer to panic. He’d been angry and even cruel, but surely Papy wouldn’t hold a grudge for the entire night…would he? Either he was too angry or hurt to return, or he’d gotten himself into trouble and Blue couldn’t bear to wait any long to see which it was. He only hoped he wasn’t making another reckless decision based on his worries.

Opening the door revealed one of the seemingly endless supply of the Fell brothers’ Dog guards. This one had large, floppy ears and a mottled patch of white around one of their soulful brown eyes. They looked at Blue curiously as he stepped out and said, firmly, “I need to see Red.”

He didn’t know what orders they’d been given but the Dogs who wouldn’t take him look for his brother yesterday readily took him to Red, leading him down the corridor with none of their ridiculous backtracking and fuss of before. Not that it ever fooled Blue, he prided himself as being something of an expert at puzzles, but it wouldn’t do to tip his hand about that. Let the Fells think him lost in their silly little maze, they could gape in astonishment if ever he needed to make a quick escape.

The room he was led to was the same one he’d first seen here, Red’s office. Only this time, that enormous desk was covered in scattered papers and Red sitting behind it looked harried for once. His jacket was gone, tossed over the back of one of the sofas, his tie raggedly loosened, and there was a teacup at his elbow that he loudly slurped from, not the whisky glass Blue was growing accustomed to seeing in his hand, and honestly, why did these people insist on dressing up so much in their own home?

A glance back at his current guard confirmed that the Dog was wearing a fine suit of its own, honestly, everyone here dressed like they’d gotten a clearance deal on leftover costumes from the set of ‘Goodfellas’. That was one of Papy’s favorite movies, scrounged from the dump years ago and it made it to the surface with them for occasional re-watching. Perhaps that should have been a clue for Blue from there, a premonition of the sort of trouble his brother would be wont to find.

Then again, Blue was acutely aware that the clothes he was wearing weren’t his own. None of the clothing in that large closet was any he’d’ve chosen on his own, but even he could reluctantly admit they were flattering. This one was almost too cutesy for his tastes with its billowy sleeves and pale, delicate floral pattern, but he had no doubt he wore it well.

Not that it helped in the slightest. Red only barely glanced up from his paperwork, the first Blue had seen in this place aside from his own contract, reluctantly signed even as he wondered precisely what sort of devil he’d made a deal with.

“whatcha want now?” Red asked brusquely, shuffling a clumsy stack of papers to the side, “wanna whine about our deal again? gonna have to wait until morning, i got other things to handle aside from you.”

“My brother is missing,” Blue said, bluntly. That was enough to at least get Red to look at him, brow bones raised. “We argued and he…left,” Blue finished, lamely. He hardly wanted to explain to Red what they’d argued about, “and I’m worried about him, I’m sure he didn’t leave the building but—” Left unspoken was that surely Papy didn't need to leave the club to find trouble.

Red’s sharky teeth curved into a sly grin. He slouched back in his chair and it creaked ominously under his shifting weight, "lost him, already, huh. how many times you expect me to play fetch with your boy?"

"Woof!" Blue snapped, too harried to care about irritating this…this…but Red’s grin only widened, his deep crimson eye lights gleaming.

"heh, cute.” His gaze shifted to the Dog. “doggerel, g'wan and check downstairs, kid snuck down yesterday to hang out with the morning shift.” Red’s expression soured as he added, “may as well tell edge, if you shitstains haven’t gone behind my back and done it already. he’ll pitch a fit if ya don’t.”

It was on the tip of Blue’s tongue to protest telling Edge anything, but instead he only sputtered out, “Downstairs! He was down there yesterday with all those horrible people??”

A sudden coldness abruptly dropped over Red’s face like a storm cloud. “might wanna watch what ya say about our downstairs personnel. they work fuckin’ hard, don’t need the likes of you judgin’ ‘em.”

“What?” Blue said, aghast, and shook his head, “I don’t mean the ladies, they’re perfectly lovely, do you know how often I’ve delivered flowers here? I mean the patrons!” He shivered helplessly. “I don’t even like to think what that sort would do to my brother, please, you need to—”

“calm your tits, it ain’t like he snuck out on the stage to shake his ass.” But some of the cold tension in his expression eased. Red jerked his chin at the dog, who nodded and went back out. Which left the two of them alone, again, and that was not something that ever seemed to end well, in Blue’s opinion.

“this wasn’t part of our deal, ya know,” Red pointed out lazily. “already found your bro once on my dime, now we’re gettin’ greedy.” He stood and came from behind the desk, sitting instead on the leather love seat. His bulk took up more than his fair share, but then, he didn’t invite Blue to sit next to him. Rather, he spread his knees wide in silent, obscene invitation, smoothing a hand along the inner seam of his trousers with his rings glimmering against the dark material. “whatcha gonna give me for this, baby blue?”

Blue took a deep breath, calming the thin tremor that quivered through his soul. He’d known this was a possibility from the start, braced for it before he’d ever left that borrowed bedroom. He lifted his chin and said, stoutly, “Whatever it takes to keep my brother safe.”

He stepped forward boldly without another word, dropping to his knees on the plush carpet and reached up to scrabbled roughly at Red’s belt as he tried to work up a little moisture in his suddenly dry mouth before there were complaints about his sandpapery tongue. He could do this, Blue told himself, it was to help his brother, he could do this, do anything for Papy, anything at all, and he never needed to know what Blue had done, never, even as his own hypocrisy burned acrid on the back of his tongue.

But before he could even manage the shiny buckle, hands took a rough hold of his wrists, stopping him.

Startled, Blue looked up, “What--?”

Red never seemed to lose that smirk of his, but now it was more lopsided, startlingly reminiscent of Edge, and never had he and Red looked so much like brothers. “stand up, baby blue. keepin’ little bros safe is free of charge.”

“I pay my debts,” Blue said, low, even as he wondered wildly why he was arguing in favor his own defilement. Red only gave him a withering look, reaching inside his vest pocket for a fat cigar. He popped a wooden match alight with the sharpened tip of his thumb and the pungent smell of smoke filled the air.

“i don’t need to barter for sex, honey,” Red said in a cloudy exhale. “you wanna pay me back, you just make sure you stick to our deal.” He leaned in suddenly, cigar held well away in one hand as his mouth barely brushed the side of Blue’s skull in a low murmur, “when ya finally get on your knees for me, ya gonna be beggin’ me to be there.”

“I’d love to see you try,” Blue said unthinkingly. It earned him a startled laugh even as he quailed inwardly.

“oh, sweetheart, ya never let me down.” Red drew back and offered him that wider grin. “gonna try, fer sure, that’s a bone-ified promise.” He set a hand in the middle of Blue’s chest and gave him a light shove, sending him toppling on his backside as Red stood and went back to the desk. “now get out, the dogs’ll bring your bro back to ya when they find ‘im.”

Blue wobbled to his feet, already heading for the door. He hesitated there, uncertainly, he should be grateful for what he’d gotten, he should flee with all due haste and yet, he could help a soft, heartfelt, “Thank you.”

He didn’t wait for a reply, the door closing softly behind him as he fled. There wasn’t a Dog in sight, hopefully they were all searching for his brother, and Blue headed back to their room alone. He was halfway there when he realized, a niggling, absent thought in the back of his skull suddenly coming clear. The teacup he’d been drinking from; when Red leaned in, beneath the layer of cigar smoke, he’d smelled like golden flower tea. Why would he be drinking his own profits? It made no sense, or none that Blue could make of it.

That didn’t matter, not right now, he could worry at that sore spot later. For now, all he wanted was his brother back with him, as safe as circumstances allowed. He hoped fervently it wouldn’t take long.

~~*~~

tbc

#cherryberry #spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #mafia AU

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tabloidtoc · 4 years ago

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OK, March 15

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Britney Spears' revenge

Page 1: Big Pic -- Melissa and Joe Gorga during a beach day in Miami

Page 2: Contents

Page 3: Contents

Page 4: Tiger Woods on the mend -- Tiger is counting his blessings as he recovers from a terrifying car crash

Page 6: Queen Elizabeth announced in a statement that her grandson Prince Harry and his pregnant wife Meghan Markle wouldn't be returning as working royals, noting that it was no longer possible for them to continue with the responsibilities and duties that come with a life of public service, and almost immediately, Harry and Meghan shot back with a seemingly rude reply, saying we can all live a life of service and service is universal -- no one was more disappointed in Harry's response than his brother Prince William and William finds this behavior both baffling and sickening and he can't get his head around it and William feels the family has been understanding and fair while Harry and Meghan continue to sit on their high horse flinging insults and from William's perspective there is simply no excuse for snide and ego-driven swipes made towards the queen -- especially right now, since three days prior to Her Majesty's statement, Prince Philip was rushed to a London hospital and the queen's been worried sick about her husband and should not be dealing with this added stress -- the whole situation has left William feeling hopeless and he fears Harry is too wrapped up in his own self-importance to see the hurt he's caused and that is unforgivable in William's eyes

Page 7: As Soleil Moon Frye's messy divorce drags on, a loyal pal from the past is providing a shoulder to cry on in Brian Austin Green who she reconnected with while shooting her upcoming documentary Kid 90 -- Brian can feel her pain because he's still hashing out his split from Megan Fox so he knows exactly what Soleil is going through -- they've been friends for more than 30 years and they're going to see each other through this tough time

* Tom Cruise got all pumped up for Mission: Impossible 7, but now that filming has wrapped, he's desperate to stay in fighting shape for the next installment -- Tom was thrown for a loop when the studio postponed filming M:I 8 instead of shooting the movies back-to-back so now he's putting himself through the wringer doing crunches, pullups, squats and weights but Tom's brutal, military-style workouts have friends and loved ones, including his rumored new girlfriend, M:I7 costar Hayley Atwell, worried that he could be pushing himself to the breaking point and everyone wants him to take it down a notch, but he won't listen -- physically, Tom still thinks he's invincible, but the fact is he'll be turning 60 in less than two years and if he keeps going at this pace, there's a big change he's going to do some serious damage

* Life has been twice as nice for Christine Quinn since she found out she was expecting -- the Selling Sunset star, who's pregnant with her and businessman husband Christian Richard's first child, isn't holding back when it comes to treating herself -- the famously free-spending realtor has been splurging on designer maternity clothes and lingerie to lounge around in at her L.A. mansion and she has flowers delivered daily for every room in the house

Page 10: Red Hot on the Red Carpet -- stars rock statement-making halter dresses -- Lili Reinhart, Camila Morrone, Brie Larson

Page 11: Chrishell Stause, Naomi Campbell, Rosie Huntington-Whiteley

Page 12: Who Wore It Better? Uzo Aduba vs. Drew Barrymore, Charlize Theron vs. Kaia Gerber, Bella Hadid vs. Naomi Scott

Page 14: News in Photos -- Steve Martin did what he does best while filming scenes of his upcoming mystery-comedy series Only Murders in the Building in NYC

Page 16: Nicole Scherzinger stepped out for lunch with beau Thom Evans in West Hollywood, a casually dressed Reese Witherspoon matched her shirt to her Draper James canvas tote while boarding a private plane in L.A., Paris Hilton and Carter Reum

Page 17: Rebel Wilson stopped by the gas station to fill up her car in L.A., Mariska Hargitay took a selfie while shooting Law & Order: Organized Crime in NYC

Page 18: Sarah Jessica Parker assisted customers at her eponymous shoe line's store in NYC, Chrissy Teigen at lunch at Wolfgang Puck in L.A., Naomi Osaka with her trophy for winning the Australian Open in Melbourne

Page 20: The Masked Singer panelist Jenny McCarthy in a golden tiara and caped dress before taping a new episode, for a recent date night Outer Banks stars Chase Stokes and Madelyn Cline whipped up a cozy plant-based dinner in L.A., Jason Sudeikis filled up on a sandwich on the set of Ted Lasso

Page 22: Bella Hadid strutting around Manhattan, Helena Christensen and her dog Kuma in NYC

Page 23: In partnership with Ziploc Janel Parrish created the Hot Mess Makeup Line in Vancouver, Cara Delevingne in Puma's new eco-friendly line

Page 24: Usher stopped by the dry cleaners West Hollywood, Padma Lakshmi and her pooch braved the cold weather in stylish jackets in NYC

Page 25: Tia Mowry for Late July Tortilla chips, four days before filing for divorce from her husband Kanye West of nearly seven years Kim Kardashian looked somber while out and about in L.A., during a stroll Busy Philipps stopped to check out something on her phone in NYC

Page 26: Scott Disick matched his 'do to his drink at the Sugar Factory in Miami, Justin Long stocked up on groceries in L.A., new couple Mod Sun and Avril Lavigne were inseparable after a date night in L.A.

Page 28: Inside My Home -- Claire Holt's airy abode

Page 30: Zooey Deschanel and Jonathan Scott have taken the next step in their almost two-year relationship: they've secretly tied the knot -- they've been talking about getting married for about a year and just decided to go for it and the intimate ceremony took place in front of a few family members at Jonathan's Las Vegas home on Valentine's Day and it was spur of the moment, but that's how Zooey likes to do things and now Jonathan too and they put it together in a matter of days and everyone got a verbal invite to come -- Zooey wore a Bohemian-inspired gown and flowers in her hair while Jonathan wore an all-white suit and Zooey serenaded Jonathan with a love song she had written -- guests including Jonathan's twin brother Drew Scott and sister-in-law Linda Phan were treated to a gourmet buffet and video and arcade games -- now the couple's eager to grow their family and Jonathan will be a great stepdad to Zooey's children Elsie and Charlie but he's been saying for months that he can't wait to have kids of his own and they've already started trying

Page 31: Blake Lively and husband Ryan Reynolds are one of the most charitable couples in Hollywood and now the big-hearted duo are ready to take the next step by adopting a baby in need -- Blake and Ryan who share daughters James, Inez and Betty have donated millions of dollars to organizations working to protect the rights of immigrant children separated from their families and awaiting deportation -- day by day they've been warming up to the idea of providing an orphan with a forever home -- Ryan jokes that Blake is a baby machine who would have no trouble getting pregnant again, but their hearts really go out to these kids

* Ever since Bridgerton became a monster hit, the sizzling chemistry between Rege-Jean Page and costar Phoebe Dynevor has fans convinced that they're an offscreen item as well, but Rege-Jean's girlfriend Emily Brown is fed up with keeping their real-life romance under wraps and she's starting to feel like Rege's dirty little secret -- Emily has been dating Rege for two years and shares a home with him in East London -- the show's producers have been happy to let the rumors about Rege and Phoebe fly because it made their steamy sex scenes that much more believable -- Emily, a part-time soccer player and copywriter from Manchester, loves to go to pubs and party, which she and Rege used to do before the show came out -- Rege insists that keeping their relationship on the down-low is no big deal, but Emily wants everyone to know that the hunky Duke of Hastings is spoken for

* Mila Kunis and Ashton Kutcher have got the parenting thing down pat, and they're ready to share their know-how by penning a how-to manual -- their friends have been begging them for advice for years and Mila and Ashton make having kids look like a fun adventure and for them, it really is -- now that Ashton has wrapped up shooting his new thriller Vengeance, he and Mila finally have a little downtime and the handbook will include the duo's dos and don'ts for raising their children Wyatt and Dimitri like they never argue in front of the kids and make sure to treat them equally -- Mila's the stricter one and Ashton's the softie, but it's a team effort and it works and they admit it can get a bit chaotic, but they don't sweat the small stuff

Page 32: New parents Kit Harington and Rose Leslie may be in baby heaven, but they're dealing with the home renovation from hell -- the Game of Thrones alums, who recently welcomed their first child, have been up to their ears fixing up their 15th-century country manor, which is turning out to be a huge money pit -- Kit and Rose bought the $2.4 million spread shortly before tying the knot in 2018 and had no idea what they were getting into and the couple got hit by sticker shock when they finally got their plans approved to put in a new kitchen, master bath, pipes and flooring and it's going to cost them an extra half a million at least -- they still think it's the perfect place to raise a family, but overseeing an army of builders and designers with a newborn at home is leading to some serious sleep deprivation

* As Olivia Wilde and Harry Styles' romance heats up, the couple is planning a heart-to-heart with her ex-fiance Jason Sudeikis -- after filming wrapped on their movie Don't Worry (for the love of all that's holy, please put in a comma) Darling, the lovebirds flew to London to meet with Jason, who's been on the set of Ted Lasso in England because Olivia, who shares two kids with Jason, wants to clear the air and have a calm conversation about how everyone moves forward from here, and she wants Jason to realize that Harry is here to stay and Olivia needs Jason to understand this is a serious relationship, whether he likes it or not

* Baby Boom -- these celebs recently welcomed little ones -- Wilmer Valderrama and fiancee Amanda Pacheco welcomed a baby girl, Kansas City Chiefs QB Patrick Mahones and fiancee Brittany Matthews welcomed a daughter named Sterling Skye, Mandy Moore and Taylor Goldsmith welcomed a son named August Harrison

Page 34: Cover Story -- Britney Spears fights back -- she is ready to reclaim her life and she's looking to take down anyone who stands in her way, starting with her father, Jamie Spears

Page 36: In the wake of the #FreeBritney movement, Justin Timberlake who dated Britney Spears from 1999-2002, and publicly insinuated her cheating ruined their relationship, took to Instagram to offer a mea culpa, saying he wanted to apologize to Britney who he cares for and respects and he knows he failed -- he also contacted Britney directly to express his regrets over how he handled their breakup because he wanted to do the right thing and Britney accepted his apology and she was touched by the gesture and thought it was absolutely sincere and they had a nice little chat and it made Justin feel better knowing that Britney didn't hold any grudges

Page 38: They're So Grown Up -- the kids of some of Hollywood's biggest celebs are striking out on their own -- Ava Sambora is the daughter of Heather Locklear and Richie Sambora, Maya Hawke is the daughter of Ethan Hawke and Uma Thurman, Damian Hurley is the son of Elizabeth Hurley and Steve Bing

Page 39: Lily Sheen is the daughter of Kate Beckinsale and Michael Sheen, Jack Depp is the son of Johnny Depp and Vanessa Paradis, Lola Consuelos is the daughter of Kelly Ripa and Mark Consuelos

Page 40: Interview -- Dwayne Johnson -- with a new TV sitcom based on his early years, The Rock reveals all about his rollicking adventures growing up

Page 42: Slim Down for Spring -- how these stars got their best bodies ever just in time for the warmer weather

Page 46: Style Week -- Sara Sampaio is fronting Michael Kors' new campaign for its latest perfume, Gorgeous

Page 48: What's Hot Right Now -- break a sweat stylishly in LoveShackFancy X Beach Riot's limited-edition collection -- Nina Agdal

Page 49: Preppy Tennis Fashion -- Lele Sadoughi turns to '70s and '80s country club looks for its spring/summer 21 accessories

Page 50: Gift Guide -- self-care session -- pampering gifts that benefit body and mind because, hey, there's never been a better time to treat yourself -- Miranda Kerr

Page 52: Chrissy Teigen is a fan of affordable de-puffing and brightening holographic foil eye masks

Page 58: Buzz -- costars reunited -- Christopher Meloni and Mariska Hargitay for Law & Order: Organized Crime, 13 Going on 30's Mark Ruffalo and Jennifer Garner reconnected on the set of their upcoming movie The Adam Project

Page 59: Rachel Bilson shared a snap of herself with O.C. costar Melinda Clarke, Ben Savage and Danielle Fishel who played a beloved couple on Boy Meets World starred in Panera Bread's new commercial for Valentine's Day, Rebel Wilson and Adam Devine of Pitch Perfect met up during Super Bowl LV game in early February

Page 60: Sound Bites -- Jennifer Love Hewitt on her night out with Betty White, Henry Golding on expecting his first child, Drew Barrymore on never going under the knife, Salma Hayek discussing billionaire husband Francois-Henri Pinault

Page 61: Tiffany Haddish on taking a chill day, Colin Jost on letting Scarlett Johansson plan their wedding, Cameron Diaz on whether she plans to return to Hollywood, Kehlani on feeling sexier as a mom

Page 62: Horoscope -- Pisces Connie Britton turned 54 on March 6

Page 64: By the Numbers -- Ana de Armas

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weeklyfangirl · 5 years ago

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Frat Boy Pt. 20

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 (1), part 7 (2), part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13 , part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19

Happy New Year!!!!!! Here’s a party and a hot guy loving on you - and you don’t even have to leave your home ;)

I haven’t been to many therapist offices after I started high school. This one was free, on student-life. Reproduced images of the sea were comforting enough, but it was the dreary stained carpet that reminded me where I was.

“Do you think they’re related to the night you were assaulted?”

“Yes. But I don’t know how to get rid of them. I lose sleep and then when I do sleep, I have these nightmares and I wake up more restless than if I’d just stayed up all night.”

“Hm. And how do you feel about Harry?”

“Harry?”

She nodded. “Yes, the boy in your dreams.” Her French manicured nails squeezed the top of her clipboard.

“That’s not an easy question.”

“Try.”

I sighed. “Okay…” The painted seagull in her office looked like an on-clearance print at TJ Maxx, and suddenly I wished I’d called my mother for her own version of therapy instead. Bargain shopping. “I think I hate him. But then I know I don’t. But then… I don’t necessarily like him either.”

“Do you love him?”

I laughed. “No, I don’t love him.”

“Why do you laugh?”

“I said I almost hated him and you ask me if I love him!” But my voice was a little too loud. The question stayed with me, stirring in my mind. “I think I’d know if I loved him.”

“Love looks different to different people. Finding a healthy version of love for yourself and your partner is where things can go awry. Or right.”

I remembered Harry and I talking at Alta about Madame Bovary, and how I’d told him that people love to the best of their abilities, from what they’ve learnt by their circumstances. Silence weighed in the room, and I knew she was waiting for me to elaborate on my feelings. Bleh.

“I don’t know,” I finally said. “But if this is what love looks like to him… We’re not even technically dating so this question doesn’t even apply!” I laughed again. “But then… even if we were, then... it’s not enough.”

“And what would be enough for you?”

“Stability.”

“And do you think this is possible with him?”

“Umm…” Zayn’s voice popped in my head - Harry was a magnet for infamy - and I laughed. I laughed, and I laughed...“No.”

“And why is that?”

“Because he self-sabotages. And he says things he doesn’t mean.”

“Such as...?”

A puff of breath left my lips. “Like last night, he said I didn’t have a life. And then he was comparing me to another girl. Viv. She’s like his… sister, basically. She grew up with him. But… he got really defensive and said at least she fucks me. But the fact that he said I don’t have a life?? A LIFE?? I mean shit, it’s not my fault he’s infiltrated my dreams is it?”

She shook her head. “It’s very important for you not to blame yourself. Show yourself the same kindness you’d show your friends. Renny, for example.”

Be kind to yourself.

I nodded. Those were the words my mother would say whenever I’d critique myself. Just like all those times before, the words registered, but it didn’t change anything about the frustration I felt. I was the one dumb enough to let him in. I’d let myself be dragged into him, even with every red flag hitting me in the face. I was collecting them for a meme bouquet at this point!

“Do you believe him?” she asked.

It took me a minute to hear her.

“The words he said to you,” she said. “That you don’t have a life.”

A timer beeped on her phone. She muted it. “I’d like you to write out what you want in your life for next time. Not what anybody else wants. But what Y/N wants. When you see it written out, no matter how silly it seems, having concrete answers might help.”

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

I was staring at my notes page, trying to think of what I wanted. I didn’t exactly have the chance to ask her what she meant by that. Did she mean career goals? Education goals? Relationship goals? What did this have to do with ending my nightmares?

A text at the top of my phone distracted me from the blank page.

Kiki: “Don’t worry, we didn’t forget about you. Get your hands on the special airhead pills from Harry’s and bring them to the DG Pretty Please Party next week. On the DL obvi.”

Viv chimed in on the group chat. “Congrats bitch! It’ll be fun for all of us.” She included the devil emoji.

This is what I got for stalling up until the last minute to walk into work. The practice was now a blatant reminder that Harry was out of my life and it didn’t help whenever I saw Lionel. It felt weird that I was seeing his dad more than him. Wrong, even.

Voices carried through the lot along with the clicking of heels. I turned my head.

Boss Lady Samantha was headed towards the elevator.

Shit, Y/N. Shit shit shit.

I got out, quietly closing the door. Better to walk with my boss than walk in late after her, right? Her red hair was let down today, ringlet curls in full effect. I could meet her at the elevator before it arrived.

But right when I was about to shout out hold the elevator Lionel walked right behind her. And I mean RIGHT behind her - there was hardly room for a Bible between them.

I hid behind my car, unsure if I was supposed to be seeing this.

Their voices were too low to hear, but his arm lingered at her lower back before the elevator opened. She got in. Alone. Lionel looked over his shoulder and I ducked further.

Through Grandpa’s windows, I saw the elevator door close. Lionel waved goodbye to Samantha and he pressed the button again.

Before chickening out, my shoulders straightened. I shouldn’t have to be the one hiding. I jogged to make it. His brows shot up in surprise as he held the elevator for me. The kindness I’d gotten used to seeing in his eyes looked hesitant this time.

“A little late today?” he asked, as soon as I’d made it in.

I avoided his eyes, nodded. It was a quiet elevator ride.

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

My family’s house was a ten minute drive from the practice. Enough drive time to sit on what I’d seen outside Coast Shores Medicine. It could’ve been friendly. I didn’t have to do anything about this. But in my bones, I knew that friendly isn’t what I’d seen. Lionel avoided me the rest of the day, assigning me to print out billing statements. I hadn’t seen them make out or anything, but there was a certain intimacy I couldn’t write off right away. Did Mrs. de Saude know about his close work relationships? Did Harry?

The sickening uneasiness dissipated when I heard my parent’s Home Improvement HGTV hour. Dad was already passed out on the couch, snoring at a whopping 8 PM when I walked through the door. Ignoring Mom’s tutting of “they keep you too late,” we went to my bedroom.

“Pick the nude ones,” Mom said, adjusting the spectacles she only pulled out on rare occasions (magazine reading and shoe selections). “It makes your legs look longer.” It looked like there was something more she wanted to say.

I adjusted them in the mirror, wearing the blush dress I’d bought for my aunt’s beach wedding almost a year prior. It’d never been worn. Her Spanish fiancé she’d met three months prior stole her TV set and ran off with his gay lover a week before. As I stood, the dress just barely touched the floor. Simple, really, but the way the thin straps exposed my chest rendered it elegant. I felt like I needed a long cigarette and fur coat to make it complete.

Without context, Mother suddenly burst into an annoyed huff.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Hm?” Her lashes fluttered as if she hadn’t realized she’d made a noise. “Oh, yes. I’m fine. Your father just took another one of those sleeping pills. You should never get too dependent on medication, Y/N. Drink warm milk or something.”

“Mom.”

“I’m serious!” Her stony face certainly wasn’t comical.

“I know.”

She looked me over in the dress again and caught herself, pulling me in for a rushed hug. “I’m sorry,” she breathed. She rocked me a little. “It’s just been a little rough this week.” She squeezed me tighter, then let me go. All negative energy shoved into a box that’d spring open when we all least expected it. “Have a good night tonight. Say hello to Harry for me!”

When I walked to the car she threw out, “And tell him next time he can ask you with a Cartier ring! HA! I’m joking!! ... Kind of!!!”

I smiled, waving to her at the gate as I got into my Grandpa mobile. I didn’t have the heart to tell her Golden Boy wasn’t my date.

---------

There were two cops for every solo cup I could see littered on the ground. They patrolled the streets, but the frat house seemed unphased and restored to its former glory as I walked with Andre. Club music pounded beyond the doors, practically shaking the windows. Girls huddled up outside, holding each other’s hair back and trying to block anyone’s view from the bile, as the guys snickered over their shoulders and some pretended not to see. But the cops weren’t here to reprimand for underage drinking and public intoxication tonight. They were on watch. Stationed around the perimeter of the house and on either end of the street.

They were waiting for something else. For somebody else.

Andre seemed oblivious, practically skipping past them he was so excited. I, on the other hand, was already limping from the nude pumps.

“Wanna switch shoes?” he called back.

“Don’t make a deal you aren’t willing to keep,” I smiled, quirking a brow. “The nude would actually match your navy suit…”

He’d already walked on, fist bumping the bouncer who raised up a professional-grade camera and snapped a photo of us. When my eyes recovered from the flash, I spotted Officer Ramirez from the uniforms just beyond the frat’s ramshackle fence. He was already watching me. He raised two fingers above his brow and I nodded, curtly, even though I wanted to shrink inside myself. I hadn’t had the time to think about what I would say if he contacted me again, or if I should be the one to reach out to him.

Andre led me inside, and for once, I was glad I couldn’t hear my own thoughts. It raised ten degrees just from stepping inside. The boys were in Bond suits, but most had abandoned their jackets wherever they could - on the banister, the couch beneath the staircase, or the entrance hall. The girls had dressed up, too. This was the most covered up I think I’d seen some of them, though others still opted for above-the-knee slips.

“Oi, where’s your drink?!” Niall’s familiar voice shouted above the bass.

He pulled Andre into a side hug before we reached the dancefloor. When he saw me, Niall practically fell over.

“Y/N! What’re you doing here?” He spluttered, whiskey in his breath. The knot of his tie was already to his chest, but he loosened it even more. He looked over his shoulder, then back to me. “Renny’s just gone to the bathroom.”

“She’s my date,” Andre stepped in, placing an arm around my shoulder. It was completely platonic but Niall’s face went to stone.

Suddenly it cracked, and he laughed, running a hand over his stubbly chin. “Oh, shit.” He laughed again. “Shit!”

Andre smiled, unaware of anything else besides the fact that Niall must be proud he showed up with a date. He patted Niall’s shoulder. “We’re going to see the big bro, I’ll find you later.” Andre nodded his head for me to follow, leaving Niall cackling to himself in the entranceway.

“Niall’s THE. MAN,” he put his hands up for emphasis. “He’s my favorite in the house besides my big. We gotta say hi, then you can run off. Oh, Renny’s here too!” He squeezed my shoulders as if to excite me, as if she’d be the reason I’d stay. Loved the girl, but I knew she’d be back on top of Niall five minutes after she was out. I just didn’t want to have to watch.

I wrung my hands together, growing nervous. I knew the reason Niall had reacted that way was because Harry was going to be here. I knew this coming into it. But I’d been expecting him to ignore me the entire night. With Niall’s reaction, I wasn’t so sure anymore. What had Harry told Niall?

Someone sloshed their beer on me as I passed, and I turned sour, rolling my eyes as Andre pushed us forward. I picked up the pace before he could notice I’d stopped and wiped the glare off my face. Or, tried. I probably just looked constipated now.

WHY WAS HIDING EMOTION SO HARD??

I felt bad feeling so annoyed. Andre was excited. I should be excited, right? Sloshed beer and sweaty bodies came with the territory. Though I’d forgotten how humid it got in here. Hell and Florida were probably cooler. I picked up the ends of my dress, hoping for some sort of ventilation to reach parts of me that were on the verge of overheating.

The coffee tables and couches had been moved from the center of the living room to the fringes beneath the stairwell to make designated smoking and dancing sections. I could’ve stayed on the outside of the dance crowd. Hell, I could’ve joined the spaced-out smokers on the couch. But I didn’t. I followed Andre to the middle of the dance floor. I could barely see above the tops of people’s heads until we reached a bit of a clearing. And by clearing, I meant the sweaty dancers in front of us who made a break for freedom and gave us about ten seconds of space before other bodies rushed to fill it.

I felt him before I saw him. A tiny prick of consciousness that directed my gaze. And Andre’s finger.

“AYYYY!!!!!” Andre pointed to the DJ booth, waving his hands as he hollered.

Even with the rocking vibration of the bass that chattered my teeth, each nerve in my body went alert. Harry stood, flashing a white smile to the crowd before downing the rest of whatever potion was in his cup. I hated how my stomach clenched just by seeing him. He saw Andre and his smile grew, grabbing the mic. I was still unnoticed, hidden by dim lighting and nameless peers.

“Who’s ready for us to win tomorrow!?” His voice was low, demanding. It was a question for the crowd, but he was looking at Andre. I could sense the intensity even there, and it was then I realized it couldn’t be just me who feels so vulnerable around Harry. Each person he traps in his gaze stays there, until he lets them go.

The house erupted in cheers, but I was locked in place. The suit he was wearing looked similar to the one from the Halloween gala, and every bit of him looked just as stunning. His beautiful body swayed on the makeshift stage.

“Then let’s see you jump in-” His hand held up 5, 4, 3, 2… He spun another song and the crowd sprung from the floor before crashing back down. They jumped to the beat he made. A modern-day puppet master.

Andre wrapped an arm around me as he jumped. So I did, too.

“That’s my big!!” he yelled, mid-air.

“WHAT??”

He pointed to the DJ booth, but there was no one there besides Harry.

“.... HARRY??! HARRY’S YOUR- your…” I stopped jumping the same second Harry saw us together. It’s funny. It takes only a second to flip a dime on its head. His party boy mask dropped in an instant. The low lighting turned his eyes black, but they couldn’t conceal the daggers he shot straight at me.

“I have to use the bathroom,” I muttered.

Andre nodded. “S’UP THE STAIRS!” He found a friend nearby and latched on to him instead.

The small (okay, medium) part of me filled with nothing but Petty™ wanted Harry to see me with his little. But another part of me couldn’t handle his judgmental glare. Somehow, I was embarrassed. I didn’t want him to think I’d come here tonight to make him jealous. That I was so obsessed with him I’d found another in to the frat. I didn’t want him to think he controlled any part of my heart. What did it say that I ran away at first sight, though?

I’d already done it. It didn’t matter. Either way, I didn’t win.

I raced upstairs, weaving my way between couples sitting on the stairs, hoping that the line for the restroom was really long and Renny hadn’t already left. It was, and she was next in line.

“Oh my God, what are you doing here?!” she screeched, arms out and eyes squinted until I could no longer see her pupil.

“Why do people keep asking me that.”

She pulled me into an extra-long, extra-tight Renny hug. “Love yousoooomuch,” she rushed. Her breath smelled like Niall as she pulled away. She lifted the cup to my lips and I shook my head. She frowned.

“I talked with Niall,” she said. “He says Harry’s just going” - she hiccupped - “through a lot right now. S’best to leave him alone.”

The other girls in line perked up at the mention of his name, subconsciously leaning closer. I huffed. “Trust me. I am.”

When three girls stumbled out of the only bathroom stall, Renny rushed in. “Thank God I was about to pee on the carpet.” She tried tugging me in with her, but my eye was on the end of the hall. And the stupid DG pretty please.

“I’ll be back,” I muttered, squeezing her hand.

“Nooooo,” she drawled.

I squished her cheeks, checked her pupils. She didn’t need me to hold her hair back this time. I gave her cheek a lil slap.

“I’ll go with you next time you have to go. Which will be in like... twenty minutes. You broke the seal rookie!” I teased.

I didn’t even bother looking over the railing at the party below to see if he was watching me. I still had my DG task and a nonrefundable deposit to think about. I didn’t think I’d get many chances to be in this house again unless I swindled Andre or Niall into letting me in. But that would require an explanation, and I wasn’t sure I could tell them that.

Forget explanations. I needed to do it now. Lots of noise. Tons of distractions. I’d just think of it as… borrowing?

His door was locked and I groaned, kicking it and leaving a smudge beside all the others. I reached for a bobby pin in my purse and put it to work. I’d done it before in his bedroom, I could do it again here. The curve of the hallway protected me from onlookers waiting in line in the bathroom. Downstairs was a mixed bag. People could probably see through the railings running along the top floor.

Not that they’d think to look.

My knees were starting to hurt by the time I heard it click. I crept in, and for some reason, I expected his room to look different. But it was still the same. Dusty desk across from a queen-sized bed. Only one photograph atop his bedside mantle. And it didn’t smell like sweaty soccer clothes, but clean. With hints of a woodland spice and books. It felt like eons had passed since I was first here, undressing him like the drunken baby he’d been. As an act of betrayal, my body rushed at the thought of how his fingers had looped around my belt loops, tugging me closer. I swallowed, the image of his tightened pants expanding in my head. He’d almost been hard, then.

It was then, at that moment, that I decided that the one sip of alcohol I’d had must have been spiked with SOMETHING because I would NOT be that girl. I would NOT. I reFUSED TO LET MYSELF-

Seconds later, my fingertips grazed his soft gray sheets. He’d been sprawled out right about here, and the rush of seeing unseen skin on Harry had been too intoxicating an offer to refuse. The ghost of that rush flowed through me again as my memory played it over like a movie. Close-ups and panning shots - Down his toned chest to tattoos speckled along tan skin, tattoos that had been seemingly doodles, but now held much more meaning now that I knew of his history with the ocean. For his sister. My body leant down before I knew what I was doing, and I inhaled. The lingering aroma of his body chemistry altering his cologne: musky, a little spice, and warmth.

Even if every ounce of me wanted to dislike him, the legitimate biology behind my body responded to a chemistry I couldn’t control.

“What are you doing?”

He caught me on my knees, with one hand clutched in the sheets.

Fuckity FUCK-

He could whip out PSYCHO magazine informing people of highly-dangerous murderers with my mugshot plastered across the cover - and I’d believe him in that moment. Oh my gosh. Omgomgomg. He didn’t say what I expected him to say when he swayed in, though.

“Andre. Really?” He laughed to himself, but it was cold. “Fucking” - he stumbled, leaning on the desk chair to catch himself- “really?”

It wasn’t the alcohol that’d put him on edge. I’d seen him handle liquor before, but this time he looked… different. I stood up, realizing his eyes were racking down my dress. I crept towards him, hoping to make it past the door. Not because I was scared of him. But because I was mortified. I’d just looked like an absolute fucking psychopath AND I’d snuck into his bedroom. Maybe I could distract him. Maybe he was too drunk to ask me-

“What’re you doing here?”

“What are we… all doing here? At parties?”

“…in my room,” he clarified.

Welp. My philosophical question fell flat. Wouldn’t be the first time.

I waltzed past him, tight-lipped. In defense of my dignity, I still didn’t owe him anything. Not after how he’d treated me.

“Hey,” his arm jutted out, blocking my way. His brows crossed as he turned to a petulant boy. “S’rude to not answer.”

My blood boiled. “You are not about to give me a lesson on how bad it is to ignore people right now. Nor on being rude.”

“Can give you another one.”

He reached for me, but I stepped back, somewhat living in the hurt that flashed in his eyes at my rejection.

“You’re not leaving.” But his demand sounded like a plead.

“Thought you didn’t want me around you,” I scoffed, tearing past him. “Just because you’re drunk or high or whatever the fuck it is you are right now, doesn’t mean you can just… get a free pass! For a week! A whole week of awful-” I turned quickly, too frustrated to find the words. I took a step towards the door but-

“Y/N.” He was right behind me. His breath warmed the nape of my neck, the delicate hairs standing on end. No matter how much of an absolute mess he was, my body didn’t know better. I could practically feel him behind me, his presence radiating an alarm that blared through my veins. I wanted him. Badly. He trailed a finger down my arm, and his hand brushed against my own against my side. “I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

His fingers gingerly interlaced with mine, turning me around.

Something wet was on my cheek. I touched it, quickly rubbing it away in horror. Why were tears running down my face?! What unfair cruelty was this!? He saw my tears and leant down, suddenly defeated, pulling my body with him.

“Why did’ya ever want me hm?” His nose went along my jaw. Full lips pressed against the base turned my legs weak. There was an underlying desperation to his words though, a prayer in his kiss. But my thoughts were turning anything but holy.

“Who says I did…” I wanted to pull away, ask him why he’d used past tense or why he’d completely ignored me this past week, but I was frozen by the softness of his hands. Self-respect was surely slipping away each moment I lingered. I could literally see Jane Austen parting the heavens and sticking her angelic head through Harry’s room to shame me with a glare. I do all this mental work to try and figure this guy out and… for what? I should be waltzing out that door, declaring I’d never talk to him again. I should give up messy and confused and pursue my own sanity. But the air only ever turned electric with him, in all his messiness, in all this confusion… and each time the spark appeared, it pushed us closer together until he was here, like this, soft hands gently running along my lower back, skilled fingertips feeling the dress fall slightly inwards at my waist, tracing a map of uncharted waters…

“You’re not thinking straight,” I breathed. And that went for both of us.

“Au contraire, I’m thinking clearer than I ever ‘ave.” There was a swirling madness shining through, but he bat his eyes and it was veiled again, vanished beneath the dark surface. He tilted his head, appraising my body, noticing my legs were no longer tensed to run, but in apprehension for another reason completely. A smirk settled in. “Why do you still want me?” he demanded, pulling me against him towards the bed.

“Arrogant ass,” I sniped, but I landed on him anyway. His fingers tightened around my waist, a hand snaking up behind to entwine with my hair. I felt him harden beneath me as he pulled my head to the side, just the right amount of rough. But he stalled over vulnerable skin, lips ghosting featherlight up to my ear. He let out a soft breath and I clenched in anticipation. For once, I had no thoughts. “You should be with me,” he breathed. “Should be mine.” His voice grew frustrated and he practically growled, lips kissing my neck, steady, before they started to suck in a rhythm. The shock of the sensation masked the shock from his words and my back arched, a spider’s shiver crawling down my spine. He stopped suddenly, shooting back like he’d been shocked. His grip softened ‘round the nape of my neck, and he looked so… confused. “Can’t mark you again,” he noted, despondent. But then the corners of his lips twitched up in a smirk. “Least where it’s visible.” My breath caught. His black ink eyes showed the slightest ring of green. I don’t remember lifting my hand, but fingers trailed along dark circles. These were a new development. I shook my head lightly. Something was wrong. This was wrong. I leant in, resting my head against his. “Harry-” but his lips cut me off before I could mention it.

I felt like I’d been feeling his lips everywhere but my own. They were eager, but kept pace, switching it up just when I was getting comfortable, slowing to make me feel the soft fullness of raspberry-pink lips. They were pillows, and clouds, and everything else soft and wonderful that I’d want to feel forever. He slipped in his tongue, deepening the kiss, and I ground my body against him, using his shoulders as leverage.

This wasn’t me. But I didn’t care enough to think about ‘who I was’ anymore. What did I want?

I felt him pulse between my legs.

“Harry,” I bit my lip, and I knew then. I’ve been wanting more, I’ll always want more. I was more aware than ever of an emptiness he could fill.

“Been hard ever since I saw you bouncing in that dress,” he said gruffly. “With fucking Andr- ahh...fuck.” I rocked my hips against him in spite, putting a hand over his mouth to shut him up.

But his head jutted back and came forward again. He looked at me through hooded eyes, and just like that I was sedated by his gaze, my body pausing. He looked like he was about to scold me. “Do it again.” His voice was low. I stalled, looking at the way his lips barely parted. “Don’t be shy now, Y/N.” My hips replied on command, but rebelliously, slowly, feeling the length of him run between the thin underwear that’d cocooned itself against my ridges and folds. I ran my hips back down against his thigh. “Fu-uhck-” He jutted his hips up, turning something wicked when I moaned. The friction from the dress and pressure from my own body rocking against Harry built a tightly coiled knot I wanted desperately to release. And then we were kissing again. Fervent. Eager. A skilled tongue slipping in to dance with my own. He was rock hard against me. I could feel the full outline pressed tight against his slacks now, creating my own mental map. My hands wrapped in his hair, and I pulled, relaxing our pace, rutting myself up with purpose to rotate in a circle at his clothed tip. The noise from his throat wasn’t human, and I felt heavy and light all at the same time when his thumb dug into my chin just under my lower lip.

“Wanna help you,” he rumbled. “Will you let me? Won’t you do that for me?”

I nodded, wordlessly, and with both hands tight on my hips, he tugged us further back until he was against the pillows, and me, repositioned above him. He pulled us down and we built a rhythm against his thigh, the determination in his stitched brow as he did half the work making it even sexier. He was almost needier than me. There was an urgency to his strong hands as they hiked up my dress, fingertips dancing around and just beneath the band of my underwear. He didn’t pull it off, just gently pushed my hips up and down, then harder, faster, to the damp patch already on his slacks. I was buzzing, every inch of me, the wound coil growing bigger, tighter, the build of release making my heart race. He stared at me as we moved together.

“Tha’s it. So good at this,” he mumbled. “So beautiful.”

My breath caught, and his wide eyes watched wondrously as I moved frenzied above him. His chest rose, bits of tattoo spilling past the white button-down collar. My hand clutched his shirt as I felt myself begin to peak. This was as intimate as I’ve been with someone, and the pressure of being seen through his eyes like this was a lot of pressure. I didn’t want to think about how many other girls had been in this position before. What he spoke to them, how they looked, what they’ve done, or how recently they’d done it. His hand cupped my face and brought me down, lips claiming me to the point of bruising and silencing voiceless thoughts. The pull of his lips, and the sturdiness of his thigh made me whimper. My swollen bud hit his clothed cock with each surge upwards, his hands guiding me, making sure my breath hitched each time. And each time, I’d feel him tense. Again, and again, just knowing his thick hard cock was against me, right against me, almost…

“Almost… Harry…”

“Y/N,” he rasped. I felt his hot gaze as I shuddered above him. He kissed me, slow, swallowing another whimper as a current of electricity ran from the crown of my head to my toes. His hands helped me ride out my high, slowly coming to a halt.

He opened his arms, letting me cuddle up against his chest. Silence stretched on over quiet breathing. “Been waiting a long time for that,” he finally mumbled. I quirked an eye open, realizing he’d been watching me. I almost didn’t recognize his eyes. For once, they seemed sated. Unhaunted. The clouds had seemed, for a moment, to have parted. “To see you cummm.” He hummed the last word, leaning down and nuzzling the nook of my neck. Still nuzzling, he quirked half his face to look at me. We shared a long kiss, then a shorter one to my forehead. “You’re magnificent.”

Though I hadn’t removed a stitch of clothing, I hadn’t felt more naked. And for all the times I’d felt embarrassed around Harry, at least in this moment, he made me feel comfortable about what we’d just done. We lay there, my scent now mingling with the rest of his in the room. I still felt him hard beneath my legs that were strewn across his lap, and I wondered if it was … painful. He stirred, placing one hand behind his head, the other wrapped around me.

I traced shapes into his chest. He hummed, smiling softly. It was his boyish smile. The one I’d hardly seen, the one that you want to wrap up and cuddle and protect from the world to keep this one second of pure happiness intact. I pecked the corner of his mouth and his smile broke, squeezing my side. “Thank you,” he mumbled. I checked to make sure his eyes were still closed when I looked down at the black slacks. Since I finished, he should, too. I swallowed nervously as my fingers traced lower, down the button down as I tried to remember the porn Renny and I had watched together one late summer night. His eyelashes fluttered open, and he watched me, curiously, darkly, until I stopped at the tip of his pants. I slipped my fingers beneath the belt, just barely feeling the coarseness of hair before he took my wrist in his hand. He practically hissed and I stilled, not noticing I was holding my breath. I couldn’t possibly be doing this wrong…

His index finger stroked the top of my hand, and I relaxed.

He looked at me gently. “Tonight was for you. S’all I wanted.” His touch was just as gentle, and he placed his thumb between my lips, running over them gently. I didn’t want him to see me as some pure untouched thing he should be scared to do anything with. My lips parted as seductively as I could make them appear, and I moved to let his finger in my mouth, but he cheekily closed my lips instead.

He stroked my cheek, almost giggling at my attempt. “This just isn’t how I picture it happening.”

The way his eyes were memorizing my lips told me he’d thought about this before, but I didn’t miss that he said how, and not where. Muffled EDC music vibrated his door, and faraway voices travelled through his open window from the yard below. The cops were waiting there, too. Was that the situation he was referring to?

“You deserve a lot, Y/N.”

I heard the hesitancy in his voice, some unforeseen disappointment he wouldn’t just spell out for me. “What’re you saying.”

“Just that there’s few things I want t’be sober for these days.”

The thought hit my stomach like the sharpened blade of a knife, and it hurt worse than any wound from my nightmares. “Why would you say something like that?” I demanded.

“Because it’s true.” His eyes searched mine, and I saw the sadness pulling him in. Like the tumultuous water of the middle of the ocean spirally inwards into itself. A treacherous water hole that’d carry you into its deepest abyss.

I shook my head as if to find a way out, as if that would clear away what I was seeing. “I never… know what’s going on with you,” I admitted. I thought to the interaction with Lionel and Samantha. “Is home life really that bad?”

“What home?” He huffed when I looked at him. “M’serious. I feel more alone when I walk in there than I do when I’m here. And nobody even fucking knows me here.”

“Everyone knows you.”

“You’re smarter than that, Y/N.”

“What’d you take tonight, hm?” I cooed. My hand traced the dark circles under his eyes, and he leant against my touch before looking to the window, still allowing me to touch him. No doubt from whatever stimulant or depressant he’d taken, his words had been more candid than ever before.

“A cocktail of sorts. Will fucking regret it in the mornin’. Probably.”

He looked back to me, and I didn’t have time to wipe the concern from my face. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. It’s okay. It doesn’t matter,” he stated.

He really believed it when he said it, and the way there didn’t seem to be enough energy left in him made me settle back in his arms with a frown. Because it did matter. It mattered a lot. A few moments later, he squeezed my sides. “You didn’t answer my question,” he mumbled.

“What question?”

He waited until I looked up at him, and even then he was hesitant. His voice was quiet when he spoke, intimate, so if even if someone was standing at the foot of the bed they couldn’t hear what he was about to ask.

“Why do you want me, Y/N?”

The vulnerable question hung in the air. And though it was presumptuous of him to ask, he wasn’t wrong. His eyes read me like a book he’d read a hundred times over. He saw me. I swallowed, my brain and heart at an all-out war. Unfortunately for me, they captured my tongue in a stale-mate. “I don’t know what I want.”

And it was true. The dilemma was the following:

The only thing my body wanted was him.

But my brain didn’t know if that’s what I should be wanting anymore.

And my heart was left in the middle of them both, not sure what it was feeling.

I felt him shrug. “I get it. I have so many opinions shouting at me in my head right now. About soccer, my fucked family, about” - he threw his hands between us.

After Niall had greeted me at the door, I was sure Harry had talked about us in some capacity. But how many people had opinions on our relationship? “Let me guess. Viv shares her opinion about us.”

“I don’t listen to hers.”

“But hey, at least she fucks you right.”

He sucked in a breath, shaking his head. “I didn’t mean that.”

“But it’s true, right? So no need to apologize.”

The room froze over. Just the thought of her whispering in his ear was enough to trigger an entire week’s worth of pent-up animosity.

“So maybe people are confused why Viv and I aren’t together but I couldn’t give a fuck about what they think. I fucking hate that we’re even talking about her right now.”

“What do they say?”

He rolled his eyes, hurriedly slanting his voice, “Viv’s gorgeous mate, she clearly wants you. What the fuck are you doing now?”

I flinched. He noticed. “Look, I seriously hate talking about this. Can we talk about the fact that I didn’t invite anyone tonight?”

“Aw, was Viv busy?”

“Alright, stop.”

A chill shot down my spine at the rejection. As much as I wanted to appreciate the fact he didn’t invite anyone, it didn’t help. This wasn’t helping at all. “I’m sorry if I want to talk about your relationships that directly affect me,” I said, rolling out of his arms.

“Y/N, please. It’s not like that.” His voice was tired, pleading, coaxing me to forget.

“But why are you like this? Why did you just say what you did to me?”

“You asked me-”

“It was very belittling.” I changed my voice to a dopey British accent, “Viv’s gorgeous what the fuck are you doing with Y/N?” I ignored his scowl. “Really, thanks for the best compliment of the night.” I pushed against his chest, annoyed. “And why are you being like this now? All cuddly and-”

“It’s not one-sided.”

I felt my cheeks heat. “Not tonight. But it’s one-sided any other time.”

“S’that what you really think of me?” He pulled me closer, and I fought the urge to twist away. His forehead pressed into my hair. “Firstly, you’re fucking beautiful Y/N. You have to know this. And you have to know you’re important to me. And secondly…”

“Thirdly,” I corrected.

His eyes turned somber. “They’re watching,” he mumbled, pleading. “This is hard for me, too.”

The gang, the cops, both, whichever it was, it didn’t matter. The effect was the same. No matter how special he claimed I was to him, we always went in circles. Maybe he had gotten it right. Maybe it was better for both of us if we weren’t together. “Why is it so hard then?” I whispered.

“Nothing good comes easy.”

I remained silent. It was a cop-out response.

He ran a hand down his face and sat up. “Because I’m fucked! I’m fucked, Y/N and there’s only so many people I can hide from. And you aren’t one of them.”

It was the most candid he’d ever been with me, without revealing anything at all.

A knock sounded at the door.

I went to move, but he kept me against him, covering my ears as he shouted-

“FUCK OFF!!”

But even with his hands over my ears, it wasn’t very muted. The knock grew louder, more obnoxious.

“Sorry,” he grumbled, moving to open the door. When it opened, a boy wearing a snapback around the same height as Harry leant against the doorframe.

“Wassup, man-” Snapback almost burst in.

Harry’s back went stiff as the stranger’s snapback practically poked Harry in the eye. If their overcompensating confidence and too-familiar smile told me anything – freshmen. At least Snapback’s friend wore a Bond-inspired bow-tie t-shirt.

Harry put a hand to Snapback’s chest, backing him back out of the room. They watched me walk up behind him.

“Hey, relax man, we just wanted to get some zombies,” Bowtie bargained.

“You’ve got some fucking balls,” he snarled.

My ears pricked. He was looking for the same thing, then. From Harry. My heart sunk to the lowest part of my belly after remembering why I’d come here in the first place. The sliver of hope I’d had was that maybe what Zayn had witnessed was just Harry’s past. A summer blunder. A summer fling with an illegal hobby. You know, some kids did drugs, some kids sold drugs... It was a ridiculously stupid comparison now that I thought about it. But still, I had hope. Now my undeniable denial was being shred up right in front of me.

The cops, the gang, the drugs circulating campus…

Harry had made his bed, and I was lying in it.

I squeezed past him.

“Wait, are you leaving?” He still blocked his doorway.

I ignored the pang of guilt I felt at his boyish disappointment. He looked at me, body still intimidatingly rigid, but his eyes, impossibly soft. Snapback tried to move past him again and Harry whipped his head back with a growl. “Get the fuck out of here.”

“Excuse me?” Bowtie came closer, puffing out his muscled chest. Testosterone, angst and alcohol were never the best combination. I grew nervous at the tension, looking from my escape at the end of the hall, back to Harry.

“C’mon, we have the cash. We’ll pay double!” Snapback whined, cornering him.

The words made me nauseous, conjuring the image of Viv sliding Harry the cash. I didn’t want to see this again. I didn’t want to see anything again.

“I don’t do that shit anymore.” He strode through their barricade, determined, but Bowtie tugged him back. His nostrils flared and I could tell he was trying to keep his cool. He could ruin these guys if he wanted to. I don’t know why he was letting them keep him. But I also didn’t know why I didn’t run away. It was like watching a train wreck seconds before it happened.

I stood alone, in the center of the hall, the only person on Harry’s horizon. A lighthouse hoping to steer the sailor home.

“C’mon, please man, everyone’s talking about them. We just need one,” Snapback exhorted. He put up his hands, pleading. “We’ll split one. We’ll seriously cut it in half.”

Even from here, I could see the muscles in his neck tense. I tried doing to him what he did to everyone else. I trapped him, wide-eyed, anchoring him to me. He didn’t break our stare.

As if each word scraped against his skull, “I said I don’t do that shit.”

“That’s a fucking joke. Mark got some last week,” Bowtie barked.

I saw the moment I lost him. In what world I thought I could be enough to harbor him, I had no idea. Harry snapped, kicking the steroid-pumped kid so hard in the knee, it knocked him down. It wasn’t a broken bone, but it’d leave one hell of a bruise.

“Dude, are you crazy?!” Snapback cried.

Harry raised his fist, bringing it flying. I gasped and hid my face. But I didn’t hear an impact. I faced them again.

Harry’s fist froze inches before his cheek. Facing what would have been a badly broken nose, Bowtie shook on the floor. Slowly, ever so slowly, Harry relaxed his hovering fist and folded his arms, squatting next to the quivering guy. “You’re fucking welcome I was in a good mood ‘fore you came, otherwise I wouldn’t be acting so polite.”

The squeak of a floorboard shook Harry back to Earth. He caught me walking away and his whole body straightened, once again hyper-focused on me, trying to tune in and trap me exactly where I stood. Taking advantage of his distraction, Snapback and Bowtie ran for it. Bowtie limped, running into me and knocking me off-balance as he passed.

In a second, it was just us.

“Y/N,” he began, walking towards me cautiously.

“No.”

He stopped in his tracks. He was tall, but his shoulders hung in despondent defeat.

“You were right, Harry.”

I could see how tired he was. I could see the broken pieces fitting into something beautiful. He looked so sad and regretful, I already felt guilty for saying,

“You can’t hide anymore.” And with one last look at the broken boy before me, “You are fucked.”

Suddenly, the beer on the floor was just stale and sticky. The couches were filthy from strangers’ mistakes. And the air would never be clear. Harry had been right. This entire house was filled with people who didn’t care and if they did, they were trying to forget; a place more empty than if it were vacant. It was a mess just like the boy living in it. And just like the grand house, impressive at first glance, not all of his parts were beautiful.

I ignored the way his broken pieces seemed to shatter as soon as I said it and the way it hurt me ten-fold. I ignored him calling out my name as I maneuvered through the blur of bodies, until I lost his voice on the dance floor. I could breathe better outside and I walked past the cops without acknowledging them.

From complete chaos to relative quiet, my ears rung, filling the new silence.

Maybe this was the last time we’d speak. Maybe this was how it all should’ve ended that first day in September. Because in that house, that wasn’t the Harry I thought I’d knew. That was a boy far-gone, confused, and I was falling down with him. I was ANGRY. I PITIED him. And I was angry for feeling something else I should never have felt for him.

Somehow, in this fuzzy ringing world buzzing with heated thoughts and cop lights that blurred my vision, I heard a notepad scribble as soon as I passed a squad car.

Lucky for me, Momma always said I had selective hearing.

part 21

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fortheloveoffanfic · 4 years ago

Text

Put Me In a Movie

Keanu Reeves x Reader (A/n- its been a while, I haven’t known how to carry the story forward, but recently had a burst of inspiration and wrote the next three chapters. Judging from the last chapter’s feedback, the events of this one isn’t going to be too satisfying.)

Summary Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

Warnings- Angst, angst and more angst

Chapter 14- Cut The Ropes And Let Me Fall

2 Months Later Filming had been through with Jackson’s yelling, “And that’s a wrap!” At the end of the last scene. The camera had stopped rolling, and wouldn’t again unless the need for re shoots arose and by the end of the week, Y/n and Keanu were carded to fly back to Los Angeles. But that wouldn’t be before a photo shoot for promotional pictures and the wrap party the night before their flights.

By then, they’d managed to smoothen things out yet again, though, they hadn’t been left void of tension; every now and then, they’d reach a fork in the road, reminding them that things weren’t what they used to be. He’d say something a little too harsh or Y/n would get a bit too close, and for a few days, until one of them had decided that it was time to forget, they’d toe around each other, desperately avoiding any kind of serious talk.

But, despite the awkwardness, things were surprisingly good too. The highs were higher than they used to be. Keanu had mostly forgone his suite, falling asleep next to Y/n most nights, and they would wake up tangled in each other’s embrace the next morning. It was nice, and was worth the bursts of tension, that served as tormenting punctuation.

“You look cute in this,” Keanu slowly sauntered towards Y/n in the now empty dressing room, immediately taking her in his arms, bending to nuzzle her cheek, "You should keep this blouse," he tugged on the fabric of the lace crop top, which generously boasted her cleavage, the color standing out on her skin.

"Maybe I'll ask if I can," Y/n giggled, looking at their reflections in the lengthy mirror mounted to the wall. Her manicured nails skimmed his forearms, clad in leather, leaning her head back on his shoulder.

Quickly kissing her, Keanu let his touch invade the scalloped hem, inching upwards suggestively, "How long do we have before the shoot?" The mumbled inquisition was muffled as his ministrations traveled lower; behind her ear lobe, lower down her jaw and along the delicate column of her neck.

"Not long enough," with wavering restraint, Y/n tried to untangle herself from Keanu's affectionate embrace. He'd still insisted on keeping their entanglement under wraps, hiding things from the press and their co workers. Of course, there'd been a few close calls; pictures taken displaying compromising positions and mummers on social media, but even then, their respective publicists had been able to spin the stories to suit their narratives. Y/n and Keanu were close, comfortable friends, who'd grown used to intimacy on set; there was nothing more between them. Each time, it had stung and Y/n couldn't help but feel like his dirty little secret during those periods. But alas, if she wanted him, she'd have to compromise. That was how relationships worked, right?

Even if what they shared was never really a relationship.

Wiggling and turning in his embrace, Y/n gently pushed on Keanu’s chest, biting half her lip as her eyes sparkled, clearly wanting things to continue, just as much as he did, “As much as I want to, we have maybe ten minutes-”

“I’m sure we can make that work,” Keanu leaned in, trying to kiss her again, “Besides, who cares if we're a little late huh? We’re the stars babygirl, they aren’t gonna start without us. Now come on,” dismissing her objecting, outstretched arms, Keanu closed the space, finding her lips in a breath-stealing, hungry kiss, already pawing as the button of her jeans.

“Is the door locked?” Breathless, Y/n spoke against her lips, smiling at how his beard scratched her face. Y/n was already in the process of finding the lapels of his jacket, ready to push it off his broad shoulders, when, answering her question instead of Keanu, was the sound of someone opening the door.

“Places in- '' Jackson stopped abruptly upon seeing them, and frazzled they instantly sprang apart. Immediately, Keanu folded his arms, backing away hastily to put some space between them while Y/n slumped against the edge of the counter, where various products had remained scattered. After months of hiding things, they’d gotten caught on their very last day on set. “I knew it!” Smirking defiantly, Jackson propped himself on the door-frame, “You two,” he pointed between them, “Are good actors, but terrible liars. Especially you,” he pointed accusingly to Keanu, who went all red in the cheeks, barely saved by his scruff covering half his face.

“What?” Y/n croaked, her throat suddenly dry and her voice hoarse. She was fine with being discovered, but Keanu, she couldn’t tell what he’d do when they were alone. Maybe he’d decide that she wasn’t worth the risk. Maybe she should get to decide if he was worth another round of tears. “You knew?”

“Of course I knew,” maybe their resident mad genius wasn’t as mad and out of touch as they’d made him out to be. It was always the ones you didn’t suspect anyway. “Those little looks that you two share, the very realistic kisses. At first, I thought I’d struck a chemistry goldmine,” chuckling, Jackson shook his head, pushing up his glasses with his pointer, “But there was something about the way you hold her,” he turned to Keanu, his features softening, “I’d never seen in something,” making an elaborate gesture with his hands, Jackson searched the ceiling for the right word, “Manufactured.”

“I…..” She could tell he was flustered and uncomfortable, even from where she stood, almost two feet away. Keanu would have done everything to keep their so-called relationship in a box, away from the outside, away from something that would make it real.

Saving Keanu the trouble of having to find an excuse to deter his suspicions, Jackson's ability to be sociable left as quickly as it came, and in no time, he was back to his skittish, borderline intolerable self, “Well,” he clapped his hands dramatically, “I hope you two can keep up this momentum, it’ll be fantastic for press. We can tell the media that working together sparked your love and now, you’re inseparable, I’ll run in by the publicists,” already he was walking out of the room, expecting Y/n and Keanu to follow him, something they’d only caught up on when he’d already started down the long hall. Before they joined Jackson, Y/n tried to catch Keanu’s gaze, hoping to gauge his reaction, but he was actively avoiding her face, and that in itself was enough to tell her that he was not okay with what had gone down.

“Your relationship is going to be a great selling point,” he continued, not caring for their objections, his mind already made up, “But anyways,” they’d just broken off onto the main floor, where things were already set up for the photo shoot, “We should get into the shoot, we’ve only got this guy for a couple hours, Gary had an emergency back home,” Jackson explained briskly, “But thankfully, Lucas here is an amazing photographer. Lucas!” Jackson snapped his fingers, beckoning over a tall, blonde figure.

When Y/n saw his face, she gasped, and she could have sworn that it was impossible for her jaw to not hit the floor. As if things couldn’t get worse. “It’s actually just…..” upon seeing her, he seemed just as shocked, though Y/n supposed that he should have had the upper hand, considering he should have known what movie he’d be doing the pictures for. “It’s just Luke,” he finished, shaking his head, looking bewildered, “Y/n.”

“Luke, you’re….” at a loss for words, Y/n couldn’t help but long for a spontaneous split in the earth to swallow her up and dump her straight into hell. At least there she wouldn’t have to deal with awkward situations with her current ‘sort of’ boyfriend and a ‘sort of ex-boyfriend’ that she’d never officially broken up with. “You’re doing the shoot?”

Clearing his throat, he rubbed the back of his neck, clearly as uncomfortable with it as she was, “I am, Y/n-”

“Well, lady and gents,” Jackson interrupted, apparently not noting the tension, “We’ve only got this place for a few more hours, so we should get started.”

“Yeah, okay,” Keanu was the one who’d spoken, and it was the first time since he’d been cut off by Jackson in the dressing in the dressing room that he’d even opened his mouth, two words said in a tone that was perfectly u readable, “Let’s do this,” without another word, he walked off in the direction of the set up, not even offering a backwards glance.

Y/n was about to break off from the group and do the same, when, just as Jackson moved away, Luke grabbed her arm in a loose grip, “Hey,” he offered her a faltering, faint smile, “Can we talk after?”

His eyes were pleading, though, just as Y/n was going to tell him that they could, Jackson circled back, “Oh and Lucas,” he’d already completely forgotten, or perhaps he just wasn’t listening, Luke’s clarification of his name, “Get some some good ones of the happy couple.”

“Couple?” His gaze still penetrated Y/n’s sickened expression, though his brows now falling as hope drained from his face, “Right”

“Luke-”

“You know what?” He mustered up a brave face to hide his hurt, letting go of her arm and taking two steps back, “Never mind, let’s just get this done, okay?” And when she nodded, not really knowing how to remedy anything that had happened in the past thirty minutes, he turned away, “Great.”

Great?

No, it wasn’t great. Not really.

Music throbbed in his chest and the air was ignited by a buzz fueled by freely flowing alcohol and the relaxed, carefree demeanor of the cast and crew alike. Filming was finally over, they’d put in the hard work and they'd reap the rewards in about four or five months. He should have been enjoying the party like everyone else, but Keanu just couldn't.

So, instead, he'd gone out through the back of the club, lighting a cigarette between his lips and holding a half finished beer in his free hand. Since earlier that day, when Jackson had caught him and Y/n almost in the act, his mind had been bombarded with a flurry of thoughts. He was the one that had wanted what they had hidden, while simultaneously, Keanu was also the one making it glaringly obvious. That wasn't what he wanted; Y/n was making a fool of him, and fools got hurt.

Keanu didn't want to get hurt.

Things had only gone even further downhill during the photo shoot and Keanu could tell that it was taking everything in Luke to not take a swing at him. Keanu couldn't blame him, if the roles were reversed he might have done the same. Y/n was……..absolutely astounding. She was breathtakingly gorgeous, incredibly intelligent and had a one in a million personality. She worth punches. She was worth more than he could give. Because as hard as Keanu had tried to convince himself that they could work, he knew that he was just postponing the inevitable. He couldn't be with her forever, he wasn't the forever kind of man and her affections already ran deeper than his by far.

He couldn't do that to her anymore.

The fun was over.

Taking a pull from his smoke, blowing out a white puff seconds later, Keanu barely turned when the heavy iron door behind him in the dark alley way dragged open with a definitive wail. He knew who it was without even looking, he could smell her perfume, clinging to her satin skin and the shimmery black, mini slip dress that she'd slid into before they left her hotel room. He'd had her in that dress, while it was bunched up over her stomach and she was pressed against the wall of the living room, just before they'd left for the party. If only Keanu had known it was the last time he'd lay hands on Y/n again, he might have savored it more.

"You've been out here for a while," he knew that she'd picked up on his pensive mood a while ago, and though he hadn't asked, and not had she told him, Keanu could tell that there was something weighing heavy on Y/n's mind.

"I wanted a cigarette," he huffed, blowing out another cloud, finally glancing her way when she came to stand beside him, staying a few inches away. "Shouldn't you be inside?"

"Yeah," she chortled halfheartedly, rolling her eyes, taking a punctuating sip from her red disposable cup, "Shouldn't you?"

"I told you-"

"I heard you before," when Y/n cut him off, Keanu could sense a new malice in her voice, and growing defensive, he wondered where it came from.

"What's your problem?" He rolled his eyes, taking one last drag from the stub before tossing it to the ground and putting it out with the toe of his worn brown boot.

As it seemed, Keanu wasn't the only one putting up unwarranted defenses that night, as Y/n shot back, "My problem?" Moving around so he'd be forced to look at her, Y/n licked her lips, shaking her head, "You're the one who's been icing his girlfriend out."

And just like that, just as he fired his last, shitty attempt of a defense mechanism, Keanu chuckled dryly, not even thinking as he spoke, "You're not my girlfriend." Though, the minute he caught his foot in his mouth, Keanu tried to clarify, "Fuck, that's not-"

But it was too late, it was already out there and Keanu's words had hit Y/n like a bullet to the chest, "What?" Her anger, chased with insurmountable hurt and swirling confusion flared, driving what came next, "That's not what you meant?" She mocked, trying to suppress a sniffle, "What did you mean, huh? Did you mean that I'm just some girl you're fucking cause its convenient? Or did you mean that you were still seeing were this is going, and so far, it's not going like I'm your girlfriend," she took a breath, gathering her thoughts, "Well newsflash Keanu, maybe that's a good thing, maybe I don't want to be your fucking girlfriend!"

Her words were angry, but he could see past it, the cracks in her exterior shining through to show her pain. The tears in her ears, the break in her throat. Yet still, he didn't sympathize. If they were going to be like that then it was every man for themselves. "Well maybe that's good!" He yelled, not caring if anyone would hear them over the music, "Cause this isn't working for me."

"This isn't working for you?" Y/n repeated incredulously, "It was working for today, when you wanted to fuck me over a makeup table. It was working for you when we fucked while the car was waiting for us downstairs, right before we came here. God you're so…..ugh!" Through with it, ready to just be alone with her hurt, Y/n tossed her cup at him, watching as it bounced off his chest, the alcohol soaking his front, "You know, everyone thinks you're such a nice guy, but really, you're just another asshole. No wonder you're alone."

"I-" But his argument was muted, for in just seconds, Y/n was gone through the door again, slamming it on her way in, leaving Keanu to curse at the cold air as he spun and tossed his bottle to the grimy wall, the smashing filling his ears. That was it, they were over, and on his terms too. He'd been the one to pick the fight, fan the flame. Keanu wanted that, he wanted to be done so he could move on without falling too deep. And for a while, he'd told himself it would be easy because really, he'd barely let Y/n scratch his surface.

A breakup was what he wanted. But as he stood there, face hot and eyes stinging by surprise, Keanu couldn't quite decipher why it hurt so bad. Why his breath had gone so ragged, why tears were falling down his face. Why his heart felt like it was breaking.

*****

Tagging- @harrisongslimited @paanchu786 @thesadvampire @fanficsrusz @fickensteinn @ladyreapermc @babygirltaina @septimaseverina @snatchedbylele @omg-imagine @21stcenturyyfoxx @magnificentclodpiebanana @allie1804-fan @keandrews @greenmanalishi @rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves

#keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x you #john wick #john wick x reader #keanu reeves fanfiction #ff #fanfiction #keanu reeves fanfic #fanfic #put me in a movie #chapter 14 #john wick fanfic #angst

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ryik-the-writer · 4 years ago

Photo

Note: I started this fic way back in 2016, and had this Thanksgiving-themed chapter planned in advance.

Over four years and several bouts of depression-induced writers blocks later, I’m glad to finally get it out.

I present to you: Marinara Main - Burnt Bits I . Feat. Rumbelle and a big dash of baby! swanfire.

A03

Mr. Gold pulled into Belle’s next stop, smiling at her apologetic grin as she jumped out and grabbed two pizzas from the back and bounded up the stairs to her customer’s home.

It had been two months since Belle’s French Bread’s business car had burst into flames, setting off a chain of events that involved him lending his assistance, or just his vehicle really, on her deliveries and them dating on the side. It was where they could be together without the mocking or overbearing look from the town. It was theirs, and even if Belle was delivering pizzas and Gold was just watching from the window, they were together and having the seats smell like melted cheese was worth every second.

“How’d it go?” he inquired when she jumped back in the front seat.

She leaned in and kiss his 5 o’clock shadowed cheek. “$6 tip.”

“Hmm. I should have glared at him a little more, make him drop a full $10.”

Belle gave him an unamused look. “I asked you not to scare my customers.”

“Just making sure they’re not gouging you, dear.”

Belle sighed. She knew her sweetheart meant well, but she valued her independence. She swallowed her pride when he offered her his car for the sake of her family’s business, and held her head tall when she moved into his spare room after her accident, but drew the line with him bullying her customers into paying her sums she wasn’t offered.

It was there last delivery of the night so Belle decided to drop the disagreement for now. She had other things to worry about anyway.

“Didn’t you say Bae had an old bike gathering dust in your garage?”

“I’ve began using it as a garden decoration it’s been sitting around for so long. Why?”

“How much would you want for it?” she hated equating money into their conversations. It was gross reminder of their status difference, something he swore up and down he kept forgetting about but haunted her.

Mr. Gold slowed to a stop at the stop light. “Belle, I apologize for earlier. I was just being facetious, I swear.”

Belle paused. “Thank you for that, but what does that have to do with the bike?”

“You don’t want me to drive you around anymore.”

Belle cringed at the accusation. “That’s not it at all!”

He sagged in his seat with relief and Belle couldn’t help but laugh, relaxing when he joined her. They really needed to work on not jumping to conclusions.

“What do you need a bike for then?” He inquired.

“I don’t want you working on Thanksgiving.” She answered.

Gold looked at her. “Your father is making you work on the holiday? Is he mad?”

Belle rolled her eyes. She wondered sometimes if her father really was.

“No, just blinded by dollar signs. I read him something about how in China people have fried chicken instead of turkey and now he’s convinced that if we’re open people will forgo the turkey and order a pizza.”

“Logical.” Gold deadpanned, speeding up at the green light. “As for the bike, never you mind. You can borrow my car.”

“Won’t you and Bae be going away for the holiday?”

Mr. stared at the road ahead. “It’s always been just the two of us. Not much to celebrate really.”

Belle felt her heart sink, knowing that story all too well. After her mom died, Belle had her father spent many holidays in their quiet home with TV dinners in their laps and a game blaring. After he opened the business, holidays got livelier but there was still this sickening loneliness that bounced around in her gut.

“Well, I’ll just have to convince my dad to close shop early.”

Gold blinked from his gaze and turned to her. “Why’s that?”

“Because I’m going to need his help turkey shopping if we’re having you and Bae over.”

Gold startled back the horn, his hands flinching around a he tried to grasp the proposition.

“I…no Belle really. We couldn’t impose.”

“You’d be doing me a favor actually. I haven’t had a proper Thanksgiving meal in years.”

Gold pulled into the parking lot of French Bread. He wanted to say know, wanted to save her the burden of having him invade her home on a day that was restricted for family. However, he couldn’t resist the hopeful gleam in her eyes.

He sighed and nodded. Belle squealed and nearly jumped into his seat, kissing him roughly on the cheek.

“This is going to be great! I got to go make out a menu! I’ll call you tomorrow!”

He said nothing as she charged from his car to her business. He waited until the light came on before he made his way quietly home.

After checking on Bae’s homework situation, he stepped into his office and discretely pulled out the antique ring he had planned to offer Belle.

He wanted to be excited, and in a way, he was. His son would be able to have more festive holiday and he’d be able to spend more time with Belle, and hopefully find the right time to ask her the big question.

But crowds were not his forte, and he still wasn’t sure how her “boys” felt about him, let alone her father. He did not want to face another kidnapping escapde like he did on “poker night.”

Sighing, he left the ring alone for now, making a mental note to stop by the liquor store on his way to Belle’s tomorrow for two bottles of wine: one for tonight and another for the holiday.

-,-,-,-,-

Belle double-checked her table setting as fidgeted around the small kitchen of her and her father’s apartment.

Five plates were set: her and her father’s, Mr. Gold’ and Bae’s, and a guest her father had invited that may or may not show up.

Jefferson and Grace were heading to Jefferson’s in-laws, whom they both hated but had to visit at least once a year to avoid a nasty custody battle (which often lead to a week of pre-panic attacks from Jefferson; thank God they put that cot in the backroom).

Merlin was heading to dinner near Boston for a football game, and then to a children’s hospital, and Will was meeting Anastasia’s parents for the first time and asked only for prayers.

Belle checked the clock; it was just past 12:30 and “dinner” started at 2:30. She never quite understood this tradition of eating so early, but decided not to argue when she had five stomachs to worry about.

Belle hummed as she thought about her father. He had left early in the morning to pick up their “mystery guest”.

Thank Gods.

Moe French had started their pizzeria on a whim all those years ago, and really had no legit culinary skills. If it weren’t for her and Merlin jumping in and secretly taking over, French Bread’s would have literally burned to the ground. All his recipes had to be seriously revamped, but thankfully Moe was out half the time, handling the books or the equipment or something else that kept him far away from the food.

Just as Belle was checking the turkey’s temperature, a knock thundered through her father’s tiny apartment. Belle panicked a bit. Whoever was at the door was extremely early, and the she had no idea how she would entertain them for two hours while she tried to finish the meal.

She threw her oven mitts on the table and rushed to answered the door before anything burned, blinking at who was there.

“Hey,” Jefferson smiled shyly.

“Hi Jeff,” Belle greeted, stepping aside to allow them entry. “What can I…”

She glanced around him and noticed Grace wasn’t with him, which wasn’t a surprise, but he was supposed to be with her.

Belle asked bit urgently. It was no secret that Jefferson had major issues with his late-girlfriend’s family. They never thought he was good enough for her, and all but disowned her when she fell pregnant. Following her death when Grace was just over a year old, they suddenly wanted sole custody. Pinning down a job at French Bread’s had been the first step to securing Grace’s future, and Belle had been so patience with his back-and-forth court dates while he sorted himself out.

She only hoped something wasn’t stopping him from attending his mandatory dinner.

“What’s going on?”

“They um…” Jefferson shrugged. “I…decided not to go.”

Belle eyed him carefully, seeing the bags under his eyes.

“Ah,” Belle said with an affirmative nod, knowing now that she couldn’t turn him away, holiday or not. Her and the rest of the French Bread’s crew were all he really had.

She stepped aside. “You’re on dishes duty.”

“Deal!” Jefferson gasped, pulling her close and giving her a smack on the cheek so loud it made Belle’s ears ring.

“Down boy!” Belle hissed, giving him a playful smack. “You stir the beans while I move the table around.”

Belle had just placed two more plates down when someone knocked on the door yet again.

She answered it with a huff, and was a bit surprised to see Merlin enter, a brown bag in his hand.

“Hi,” she greeted a bit uneasily. Merlin had left after closing yesterday to make his trip, and wasn’t due back until Sunday. By the look on his face, he hadn’t stopped to rest.

She ushered him to the kitchen where Jefferson pulled out a chair for him to sit.

“What is it?” she asked earnestly, unnerved to see her strong-minded friend in such a state.

“Nimue was at my hotel,”

Belle and Jefferson both paled. Belle didn’t know all the details about Merlin’s borderline insane ex-girlfriend, but did know that he came to Storybrooke to get away from her.

“How did she know you were there?”

“I have no idea,” Merlin sighed, exhausted. “I saw her before she saw me, and I got out of there as fast as possible,”

Belle nodded, sharing a look with Jefferson.

“How about you stay for dinner,” Belle insisted. “We’ll walk you home tonight.”

Merlin began to stand, muttering something about not wanting to impose, and Belle had to stand on her toes to weigh him down.

“You’re imposing as much as Jefferson over here is,” Belle joked. “Help me figure out this new table arrangement.”

As her friends helped her in the kitchen, Belle glanced down at her phone. Nothing from Gold or Bae yet.

Belle frowned, wondering what was keeping her kind-of boyfriend and his son, and more importantly if she was going to be able to fit them in her tiny apartment now that there were so many extra people.

Just as she about to pull out the chair she had in her bedroom, the doorbell sounded once more.

“I’ll get it,” Merlin volunteered. Like Belle, he hoped it was the Gold’s.

The resounded “oh” he released afterwards gave Belle the answer she needed.

“Hello darlings!” came a high accented voice.

Everyone turned as a tall blonde woman head to toe in scarlet entered Belle’s tiny living room, wearing sunglasses that left only the tip of her nose exposed.

She gasped and inspected Belle’s home like a tourist who has stepped foot onto Time Square for the first time, even looking at her and her guests like they were performers.

Merlin and Belle exchanged curious looks, and just as she was about to ask who the tell was in her home, Will came bounding through the house, throwing a series of suitcases into her entryway.

He collapsed against the door, looking up with her a nervous smile.

“Hey…”

“Hi,” Belle greeted, eyeing the blond as she examined her father’s dusty shelf of knickknacks. “What’s uh…what’s going on, Will?”

Just as she said that the woman turned around, approaching Belle with a wide smile.

“Darling, thank you so much for having us,” she said as she kissed Belle’s cheek.

Belle stared at her wide-eyed, shooting another at Will.

“You remember, Belle,” Will said with a strained smile. “You said you wanted Ana and I here for Thanksgiving and you wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

Belle’s eye twitched. “Of course…” she said, her mind going into overdrive as she struggled to think how she was going to fit nine damn people at two-person table.

She snuck a calming breath. This is what holidays were about, and there was no way in Hell she was turning Will, a man she saw as a brother, out the door.

Besides, she and the other men of French Bread’s were wondering about this mystery girl Will would take weekends off to see, would take extra shifts for so that he could make a few extra bucks. The four of them had everything on the table when it came to each other, all their past and present secrets.

Or so Belle thought.

Still, she smiled whole-heartedly. “It’s great to meet you, Ana,”

Ana offered a wide, glass-like smile. “Thank you, your home is so,” she glanced around. “…simple!”

All the goodwill Belle was ready to extend crumbled around her, and it was then all the little details Belle had noticed about her had gathered together.

High quality clothes and accessories, gawking at simple, working people.

She was a rich bitch. Like Regina, like countless other people who turned her nose up at people like them.

Belle glanced at Will. Did he know? Did he care?

His gaze was pitiful, begging her not to say anything.

He did know then. Belle felt a bite of betrayal on her heart. Why would he deliberately associate with someone like her, someone who would only hurt him.

A calming hand met her shoulder, and Belle met Merlin’s warning glare.

“Ana,” he greeted. “Please make yourself at home. Belle, Will and I are going to work on the seating situation.”

Ana nodded, a pleased gasp escaping her lips when she studied her father’s tacky decorations.

Merlin steered Belle and Will into the kitchen where he and Jefferson had watched the exchange.

“Thanks for the heads-up, Will,” Belle sighed exhaustedly.

“It was really last-minute, I’m sorry,” Will said.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,”

Will’s gaze melted into a glare. “And just what is that supposed to mean?”

“Okay,” Merlin said, moving between them. “How about we try to get through dinner before we start class warfare, okay?”

Belle and Will glared at each other, but it was Belle’s whose gaze lowered first.

“You’re right,” Belle agreed. “We have to figure out this seat issue before we all end up in the park.”

Will met her smile. They’d work it out, but now they had to make an already stressful day suitable for everyone, including his unexpected guest.

“What if we ate on the floor, Chinese-style?” Jefferson suggested.

They all chuckled, the sour mood broken some.

“That might be our only option, hands in everyone,”

Four hands piled on each other as a plan came into place. They were putting on Thanksgiving dinner even if a wall had to be torn down.

“One…”

“Two…”

“Three!”

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Meanwhile…

“Stop moving!” Emma gnashed Baelfire as she glared at his puffy finger under the high-powered magnified glass in his father’s study, the glistening stone of Belle’s hopefully-soon-to-be engagement ring glistening.

“Sorry,” Bae sniffed, and Emma sighed.

“Hold it together, Bae,” Emma warned gently, reaching out to pat his son’s shoulder. “This isn’t…well actually this is your fault.”

“It’s as much as my fault as it is yours,” Bae barked. It had been a joke, when he tried on the ring he found on his father’s desk. He’d brought it to Emma and the two gushed and joked at the engagement that was to come, ready to giddily tease Bae’s father when he came out of the shower, and get the details about the obvious proposal on the way. But when Bae had slipped it on—just as a joke mind you— he knew instantly there was a problem. It was too tight, and his finger began turning pink from the strain.

Now they were struggling to get the thing off, half dressed in their holiday best for Thanksgiving dinner.

Emma released an aggravated sigh. “We’re going to have to go to the hospital.”

“But we’ll lose the ring!”

“I think your dad would rather lose the ring than your finger!” Emma argued.

Bae pondered quickly. This would ruin everything.

The ring had belonged to his dad’s Aunt Genevieve, one half of the spinster aunts that raised him. They died long before Bae was even born, but with all the stories he told of them, of how much they loved each other during a time where the law and world wouldn’t see them as one, he already knew them.

The ring was one of love, one that his father had held onto and hadn’t even given to Bae’s mother (she was more of a diamond person). But Belle would appreciated the story behind it, and she would wear it with pride.

No!

Bae jumped up and began desperately searching for anything that could be used to slide off the ring.

“Let’s go get some dish soap,” Bae began to suggest when the sound of his father leaving the bathroom echoed from the hall.

“Well, we’re screwed,” Emma shrugged.

“Not yet,” Bae denied, mind reeling with thought. If his dad caught them, they’d be at the hospital with a saw before they knew what hit them!

“Check the desks,” Bae suggested in a hoarse whispered. “Maybe he has ink or oil from his antiques or something!”

Emma gasped. “We have baby oil at my place! We can sneak it out before my parents catch on!”

“Yes!” Bae hissed, heading to the door.

“Bae, where are you?” Gold called close by, causing Emma and Bae to shrink back.

Emma glanced around and made a b-line to the window. She opened it and made a quick survey of the distance and began stepping out.

“What are you doing!” Bae hissed, panicked.

“What does it look like?” Emma hissed back. “We should be find if we jump from here.”

“Jump! Off the roof?” Bae squeaked.

Emma glared up at him from her place near the gutters. “You want to risk it or you want to wait for your dad to find us and kill you for sure.”

Bae glanced back to the door where he could hear his father moving about. With a groan, he stepped out of the window, gripping the tiles for dear life as Emma led them to the draining pipe.

“Hold on tight and slowly slide down,” Emma instructed, easing onto the pipe.

“How do you know about this?” Bae whined as he watched her slide down like a firefighter on a pole.

Emma gave him a look when she hit the ground, placing her hands on her hips and waiting for him expectedly.

Gulping, Bae took hold of the pipe, trying to steady his breathing as he tried to gain a hold. He tried to up it with his shoes, but slipped instantly, having to grab the gutter to keep from falling.

“Shit, shit!” Emma gasped as Bae hung from the gutter. “Just…don’t think about the ground!”

“Thanks for the adv—”

The gutter snapped, and Bae managed to hold onto the bending metal until it started snapping off the foundation and Bad landed head-first into a neatly trimmed shrub.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!” Emma panicked, grabbing hold of Bae’s leg. “Please be alive, please be alive…”

Bae groaned and slowly sat up, his face scratched and eyes unfocused.

“Anything feel broken?” Emma asked as she carefully picked leaves and twigs out of his curls.

“My brain’s still shaking, hang on,” Bae groaned.

“Bae?” Gold’s voice echoed from the office above.

“Break’s over!” Emma hissed, grabbing Bae and dragged him through the back garden and down the street.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Mary Margaret Nolan was –understandably – quite surprised when she answered the door and found the young Baelfire Gold and her daughter standing on her steps.

“Hi Mrs. Nolan,” Bae greeted with just the lightest air of nervousness.

“Hi, Bae,” Mary Margaret greeted uncertainly. “I…wasn’t expecting you. Emma, it’s nearly dinner time. Your grandparents are here…”

“He won’t be here long,” Emma cut in, grabbing Bae’s arm and drug him up the stairs.

“Hold it,” Mary Margaret called after them. “You know the rules, Emma…”

“We’re not going to my room!” Emma called back, rolling her eyes. She never understood why her parent’s suddenly put the “no boys in bedroom” rule in place earlier that year. Bae’s dad let them be by their selves at their place, especially on their video game-movie-pizza nights in the basement.

Oh well.

Keeping a glance over her shoulder, she led Bae to baby Neal’s room, watching every step to avoid making even the slightest noise.

“Maybe I should do it,” Bae suggested when they stood outside his room.

“No,” Emma resisted, slowly turning the knob. “If he sees you, he might freak out. Just be quiet.”

Bae rolled his eyes but stayed outside the room, waiting impatiently as Emma tip-toed into her baby brother’s room to grab the baby oil.

His father was bound to start calling him or the Nolan’s soon. They needed to get the ring off and back to his place soon.

“Find it yet, Emma?” Bae hissed as he opened the door a crack, meeting baby Neal’s large green eyes.

Bae grinned nervously at the babe, not entirely sure how to act around children. Apparently it wasn’t the right thing because Neal burst out screaming at the site of him.

“Damn it Bae,” Emma cursed, grabbing his arm and pulling him from Neal’s room as Mrs. Nolan called up the stairs.

Emma dragged him into the bathroom just as Mary Margaret sped up the steps to comfort Neal, leaving the two teens holding their breaths and listening to every step she took.

Emma snatched Bae’s hand to hold over the sink, dousing it with baby oil and trying desperately to yank the ring off.

“You’re pulling my whole damn finger!” Bae cursed, yanking away hard and hitting the door.

Emma dropped the baby oil, the plastic echoing through the small bathroom sounding like a bomb.

“Emma?” Mary Margaret’s voice rang, knocking on the door a second later.

Emma quickly locked it, flinching when her mother gasped and began wriggling the knob.

“Emma Ruth Nolan what is going on in there!”

Bae muttered a word that his father would have grounded him a month for while Emma began pushing open the tiny bathroom window.

“We’ve got to risk it,” she gasped, her blond locks flying wildly as she judged their distance.

“Oh…no!” Bae shook his head, stepping back. “I am not going through another window!”

Mary Margaret continued to pound on the door, shaking the knob profusely.

“That’s it young lady…David!”

Emma and Bae stiffened. David Nolan was a great man, but as a father he was more terrifying than a rabid bat in a Halloween haunted house when it came to his children’s well-being.

As they heard the Nolan patriarch’s boots shake the house, Emma and Bae scrambled to the window, now suddenly eager to make a quick get-away.

“Me first, he wants my blood!” Bae hissed.

“No!” Emma seethed, pushing Bae away by his face. “Me first, and watch me this time so you don’t die!”

Bae reluctantly stepped back and helped Emma ease out of the small bathroom window legs-first, sweating profusely as Mrs. Nolan relayed the locked door situation to Mr. Nolan.

“Hurry it up!” he begged as Emma grabbed his collar to pull him unceremoniously through the tiny window as her father began banging on the door.

“You have a big head, Bae!” Emma snapped as they struggled to get his shoulders through the window. Hearing Mr. Nolan’s booming voice threatening to break the door (and Bae’s legs—thought that may have been his anxiety spiraling), Bae wormed his way out until he clutching the tiles of Emma’s roof.

Emma had already located the steady gutter near her room and called out to Bae to follow her lead.

“Slowly…slowly!” she instructed as Bae struggled to grasp onto the gutters with his swollen finger. “Our gutters are cheaper than yours.”

Bae growled as he slid down the tiles, the toe of his shoe sliding over the metal of the gutter.

Just as he thought he had a chance to get off this damn roof without injury, the tell-all sound of the bathroom door bursting open shocked him to the point that he lost his grip on the roof and went spiraling down.

Emma released the drain and flew down the extra five feet, hitting the ground hard.

“Bae?” she cried, helping her friend turn over.

Bae groaned, holding his head as he looked at his best friend.

“We’re having a talk about all this when this is over.”

Emma smirked and helped him up. “Let’s get to Belle’s.”

Just as the words left her mouth the two youths heard a loud bang from upstairs.

They managed to squeeze behind a hedge before Emma’s head shot out of the window, his murderous gaze burning into the ground.

“Baelfire Gold you better have one hell of an explanation for this or I’m going to shake one from you!”

Sweaty bullets ran down the young Gold’s back, his body numb even as Emma began dragging him away.

“We got to go!”

“I…I think I’m having a heart attack…”

“Move it!”

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Gold searched the misty streets of Storybrooke as calmly as his racing mind would allow.

Bae had snuck out for some odd reason, and if he didn’t have the explanation of his lifetime he’d be grounded until he graduated high school!

To add to the mystery, he could have sworn he’d heard Emma in his office as well.

The pawnbroker sighed and wondered if he had to give Bae the old birds and the bees talk again. His son was a few months shy of 15, and had been more than responsible when it came to such matters since the last time they had that talk last year, especially when it came to Emma Nolan.

He trusted his son to mind himself around the Sherriff’s daughter, and had shown any romantic interest in her. Why Gold didn’t want to jump to conclusions, he was worried that those interests may be changing if they were locking themselves in rooms now.

Just as he was about to turn around, the all too familiar sound of police sirens wailed behind him, the mulit-colored lights instantly causing his head to throb.

“I don’t have time for this!” he cursed, jumping out of the car as they both pulled to a stop.

Sherriff David Nolan stepped out, looking unamused.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you never to leave a car when a cop pulls you over?”

Gold glared at his sometimes acquaintance. He and David got along like sheep and sheep dogs: they did much better a part, and there wasn’t a promise that teeth wouldn’t be used during their encounters.

“When an actual cop pulls me over, I’ll remember that,” Gold snarled.

David frowned. “Okay, enough niceties, I saw your son and my daughter jump out of my bathroom window. I want to know why and where they are now. I have angry in-laws and an even angrier wife, and I am not going back to them without my daughter.”

Gold’s eyes widened. It was worse than he thought. Something was going on with them, and he needed to get to them before they got into any more trouble.

And there was really only one person he could think of that his son would run to.

“I’m not sure, but I will find them,” Gold said, returning to his car.

“Hold it,” David said, placing a hand on the hood of Gold’s car. “You know something, so either I come with you or we can settle this at the station.

Gold gave him a bland look. They both knew David wouldn’t dare, but like Gold, he was a terrified parent and would make any threats necessary to ensure the safety of his daughter.

He motioned to the passenger door, hoping Belle wouldn’t mind an extra guest for the holiday.

“Get in.”

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Belle managed to hold her tongue as the blonde bombshell gawked at her cooking. It was cute in a way, honestly, her general interest, but Belle couldn’t decide if it was out of delight or judgment.

She glanced into the living room where Will and the rest of the men were rearranging furniture to accommodate for all the extra people. He looked at her as well, begging her to accept Ana.

Belle sighed. “Would you…like to help?”

Ana’s well-manicured hands shot up. “Oh no, darling. I’ve never worked in a kitchen before.”

Belle held back a snort and helped Ana position the bowl of sweet potatoes she had been mashing and showed her how to hold the masher.

“Just keep crushing them until their smooth, no lumps. Then we’re going to put them in a dish and cover it with brown sugar and marshmallows for a casserole.”

Ana’s eyes widened as she awkwardly mashed the potatoes.

“Is this…a meal…all people eat?”

Belle bristled a bit. “It’s pretty popular for this holiday, though I don’t mind eating it whenever sweet potatoes are on sale.”

Ana paused. “You eat discounted food?”

Belle gripped the counter. “Yes, some of us can’t afford lobster and steak every night.”

“What was that?”

“I said I need to check on the turkey,” Belle replied, and it was both the true and a distraction.

Belle opened the boiling oven and poked at her crisping bird. It was the first she had made that wasn’t from a bag, and she wanted it to be perfect…as perfect at her pizza making skills would allow that is.

As she was reapplying the tin foil, Ana came to look over her shoulder.

“Oh, it’s so hot!” she laughed, the sound light and chirpy.

“Maybe don’t get so closed to it,” Belle muttered, slamming the oven shut.

Ana jumped back, tensing when Belle brushed past her.

Belle returned to cutting vegetables for the dressing, Ana coming beside her to continue smashing the smooth potatoes paste.

Belle glanced to the living room at Will’s pleading glance and continued to force conversation for his sake.

“So, what do you do for a living?” Belle inquired.

“Oh,” Ana answered cheerfully. “A little of this, a little of that. Usually I’m in a plane being catered off to some event or another.”

Belle hummed, unsurprised. “Sounds nice.”

“Will tells me you own your own business,” Ana offered.

“You’re standing above it,” Belle returned, chuckling a bit. She was rather surprised to hear Ana return the sediment.

At least she had a sense of humor. Maybe she wasn’t so bad after all.

“Of course, business would be charitable at best.”

Belle’s knife stilled, the small hairs on the back of her neck standing on end.

“I��beg your pardon?”

Ana giggled, not yet knowing the beast she was about to unleash.

“Oh, it’s a sweet little hobby, darling, but you can’t possibly find it profitable,” Ana said, sweet as overly sugared coffee.

Belle gripped the knife she was holding, struggling to hold back all the nasty instincts she had to smash the blonde in front of her.

Yet…Ana was right.

French Bread had been operating in the red for years, but they’d always been pretty well off. Moe managed to keep everyone employed however, and were overall comfortable.

Belle had never looked at her business as a hobby. She saw it as a lifeline, one that she liked at that.

She made something that people liked. She offered her business for fundraisers for the local schools, and took pizzas to families after a loss or birth.

She was a member of this community, and damn it she was a business owner, no matter what she made.

Before she could defend her very livelihood—or even throw Ana’s arse out—Baelfire and a panting Emma Nolan came bustling in, slamming the door and locking it as if they were being chased.

“Bae?” Belle gasped. “What on earth—”

“You got to help us!” Emma gasped, grabbing Bae’s hand.

“No,” he protested, squirming in her grip.

Emma dragged him to her level, glaring fiercely.

“My dad’s probably on his way here with a hatchet, and I do want to jump out of another window!”

“Wait, what?” Belle demanded.

Emma snatched Bae’s hand up, showing Belle his swollen finger.

Belle gasped. “Bae, why are you wearing this?”

Bae gulped, glancing at Emma. “I…well…you see…”

Belle shook her head and led him to the couch.

“Merlin, can you grab my first aid kit? It’s under the bathroom sink.”

Merlin nodded and set off.

“Will, I need some ice, we need to get the swelling down.”

“I’ll get it!” Ana volunteered, practically skipping to the kitchen. “Oh, ice trays, how cute!”

Belle’s eye twitched. “Will…”

Will quickly got the ice from Ana, handing it to Bae without meeting Belle’s eyes.

“Crazy day, eye lad?”

“Yeah…” Bae said, wincing as Belle examined his hand.

“What happened, and where’s your dad?” Belle inquired.

“Probably right on our asses,” Emma muttered. Jefferson chuckled.

Merlin handed Belle the kit and winced at the purple digit.

“Maybe we should get Whale down here?

“NO!” Bae and Emma shouted.

“He’ll cut it,” Bae said. “Then it’ll be ruined.”

“I think your dad would be more concerned about Whale cutting off your finger than a ring from his inventory.” Belle said.

Bae looked down guiltily at the ring unknowingly meant for his possible future step-mother.

A family heirloom and a proposal would be lost today on his account. It was almost too much to bare, especially after he nearly died trying to save them both.

It’d hurt to tell Belle, but he was going to be grounded until after new year’s anyway. Might as well attempt to save one.

“Wait, Belle,” Bae begged as she was dialing the number. “I need to tell you—”

A loud pound on the front door cut him off.

“Baelfire Gold,” came David Nolan’s booming voice.

“Shit!” Emma and Bae hissed, instantly searching for a window.

“What on earth…” Belle began as Merlin began to open the door, only to have David push it open with his weight.

His heated stare instantly fell on Bae, and then on his sweating daughter.

“What is going on with you two?” he demanded.

“Dad, I can explain!” Emma swore as Bae shot up to stand behind her.

He looked back and forth between the two teens, and then finally the ring on Bae’s finger.

“Oh hell no!” he exclaims, jumping to the most severe conclusion.

Bae and Emma followed his glare, paled, and then looked at each other.

“Whoa, no, no!” she burst.

“You two are too young to get married have you lost your mind!” he yelled.

Belle stepped in front of the teens, trying to bring peace back into her living room.

“David, don’t be ridiculous,” Belle instantly defended, ducking beside Bae. “Right?”

“No!” Bae burst, pulling away from Belle. “This whole thing is because—”

The door flew open once more and Mr. Gold burst in, panting like he just ran a marathon.

“I told you to wait for me, Nolan!” he barked. “There’s three flights of steps to get through!”

“It’s a good thing I’m here, they were about to run off together!” the deputy fought.

Gold looked at his son, eyes instantly drawn to his swollen finger and the ring suffocating it.

He paled a bit, and looked at a frazzled Belle, and then the other guests in her home who looked just as confused as she (except the blonde who looked amused —who was she?)

“Belle,” he began, gripping his cane tightly. “I can explain.”

“You explain in the station,” David said, heading to Bae. “We’re going to have a talk young man—”

Gold stepped in front of him, snarling like a wolf protecting its cub.

“Like hell you are!”

“Oh this is exciting!” Ana cheered.

“For god’s sake.” Belle groaned.

“Okay, everyone calm down,” Merlin tried to sooth as Gold and David went at each other.

“Your son is a menace!”

“Your daughter was the one who was dragging him out of windows!”

“Oh my god I want to die!”

The piercing sound of the ancient fire alarm screaming through the air.

Jefferson fist-pumped the air. “Yelling feels really good right now!”

Belle looked around at her chaos-filled living room, her heart clenching.

All she wanted was a nice dinner with her friends and family – the first real nice dinner she’d had in years at that!

Jaw clenched, blood boiling, she turned to step into the kitchen, Will and Merlin watching her carefully.

Grabbing her broom, she aimed the handle at the screaming fire detector and promptly stabbed it, the thing slowly dying with a low whine.

The room became quiet, all eyes turning to the fuming woman. Even Ana had stilled, this part of the simple life mostly unappealing.

Belle turned to turn off the stove and donned oven mitts, glaring at Merlin when he offered to assist.

She removed the scorched bird, taking a moment to mourn what could have been, before turning to her terrified onlookers.

“You,” she growled, pointing at Gold. “You said you could explain, so tell me, what the everlasting hell is happening here tonight?”

Gold gaped at her, his heart pounding. He couldn’t tell if he was utterly terrified of her or madly in love.

Well, the later was a no-brainer. That was the whole reason he had delicately cleaned his great-aunt’s ring. He wanted her in his life as long as she would have him.

He looked at his son. The boy was no doubt facing a very long probation for putting him through all this, but he very honestly looked remorseful.

Gold looked at Belle, beautiful, bright, brilliant Belle. The woman he loved. The woman who’d brought so much life into his gray world.

Belle continued to stare at him expectantly, and Gold knew he needed to act now if he didn’t want to get sent through a window.

He turned to his son, frowning, and held out his hand.

Confused, Bae reached out his ringed-hand, and gasped when his father represented his whole hand to Belle.

Gold carefully got down on his good knee, the spectators in the room alighting when the realized what was occurring.

Belle’s face as well melted, her cheeks pinking.

“Belle,” he began. “I love you so much. These last few months have been some of the best of my life and I want to have so many more, years in fact.”

Belle’s knees began to shake. She hadn’t planned for this. She wasn’t ready. They should be somewhere nicer than her dingy apartment. She should be in a nicer dress. They should…they should…

“So as soon as a I pry this ring off my son’s finger…”

Bae winced.

“Clean and resize it, I…I would very much like you to be my wife.”

Belle could only stare, all words lost. Is this what true, unabridged happiness felt like?

“Well?” Jefferson urged, causing Will and Merlin to shush him harshly.

David had already brought out his phone and was recording dutifully.

“For mom?” Emma chuckled.

“Oh yeah, she loves this stuff.”

Belle released a wet laugh, tears building behind her eyes.

“I…I…”

The door swung open before she could answer, her headset father clambering in and shivering.

“Sorry I’m late Be…” he looked around and the myriad of strangers in his living room.

His eyes particularly zeroed in on Gold—the man who almost ruined his business not too long ago—who had hastily released his son’s hand and was slowly rising from his knee.

“What on earth?”

“I…think the market might have one more turkey we can grab,” Merlin suggested, clutching Jefferson and Will’s shoulders. “Let’s go see.”

The two men dared not protest. Will quickly took Ana’s hand and led her from the apartment before Belle went off on them all.

“It was lovely to meet you darlings!” she said, not seeing Belle exaggerated eye roll.

David stopped his phone and poked Emma’s shoulder, motioning that they really needed to leave.

“Bye Bae,” she whispered, signaling for him to text her later as Moe and David nodded awkwardly to each other.

“Well that’s different, the former Australian citizen said.

“I swear dad, there’s a reason for all of this,” Belle gasped, feeling a bit calmer once Gold was straight by her side.

There was a sound outside, and Moe peeked out the door, saying something so soft that Belle nor Gold could pick it.

“We can talk about this later,” Moe said, chirpier than he was a moment ago. “I really need you to meet someone.”

Belle blinked, wondering if this someone was the reason her father had been so absent from his business—and her life—for the last several months.

She glanced at Gold, who was frowning sulkily. A beautiful, abet odd, proposal had been smite, he was hurting.

Belle took hold of his hand, smiling when he met his eyes.

It’s okay, she said, we can try again.

He smiled back, thankful.

Moe stepped aside to allow, to Belle’s slight surprise, a woman enter.

Like Ana, she was elegantly dressed, though didn’t stand out quite like she had.

There was almost a familiarity to her, the way her shoulders straightened and her hands clasped over her hips, like someone in charge.

However, her attention was brought back to her current boyfriend. His hand had fallen from hers, leaving her cold, and confused.

“Belle, I’d like you to meet—”

“Why Mr. Gold,” the woman greeted, carefully.

She stepped forward, and Belle suddenly felt like she was being advanced by a wolf.

“How lovely it is to see you.”

Belle shot to her boyfriend. He was pale, trembling just enough that she could feel the vibrations in the old wood of her apartment floor.

Gold couldn’t find the words he needed. Couldn’t even scream if he so chose to.

The very world around him—years of healing, of running—gone.

All because one woman had returned into his life.

“Cora.”

#rumbelle #rumbelle fic #swanfire #belle french #mr. gold #jefferson #merlin ouat #will scarlet #baelfire #emma swan #ouat #ouat fic #marinara on main #ryik's fics #hope to have a pt 2 out for november!

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stillebesat · 5 years ago

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In These Tangled Webs (10/11)

Sanders Sides: Patton, Logan, Roman, Virgil Blurb: It should be easy admitting to your roommates that you’re not entirely human. Only in Logan’s case it’s not. Not when he discovers that Patton is afraid of Spiders. Fic Type: Hurt/Comfort Overall Warnings: Spiders, Arachnophobia, Death Talk, Minor Character Deaths, Slightly Detailed Descriptions of Deaths, Murders, Injuries, Swords, Imprisonment, Biting, Fangs, Venom, Extra Body Parts, Blood, Manipulation, Negative Self Talk

To Catch Up: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

“HUNT!” Roman half screeched before he slapped his hand over his mouth, the first to react.

“I picked him out specially for you, my spiderling.”

Patton swallowed as he fought to keep his hands relaxed in Logan’s, desperately hoping that he couldn’t hear how his heart rate had sped up.

Hunting.

Despite already knowing about Lo’s connection to the...the Rouge Widow as Virgil had named her…hearing him confirm it...in that particular way was--was---

YOU WERE PREY. You could have DIED.

Keep you safe.

Prey.

“Hush. Hush. You won’t need your momma for much longer, dear one.”

He had been prey, only surviving because Lo had decided to let him go, had decided to help him instead of killing him like his--his mother wanted him to.

Virgil barely appeared to be breathing as he stood stock still, staring at Lo. “The Rouge Widow---is your mom?” He asked, voice deliberately quiet.

The blood stained woman stalked through swings, searching for him. “You can’t hide from me forever child.”

Logan hunched his shoulders, his fangs vanishing from view as he nodded. “Yes.”

“But---” Virgil ran both his hands through his hair. “That doesn’t--HOW?!” He shook his head moving to pace in a circle around them, tugging at the strings of his hoodie. “There were no signs at all--there weren’t even rumors that she had a kid! And you’re telling me---She’s been killing people for years, decades! And not once, NOT ONCE did anyone let slip she had a kid in tow. How--”

“She kept me hidden...separate from her--” Logan dropped his voice. “--killing sprees. And if anyone found me--They died. She’s very selective on who she trusts and when it came to me...barely a handful of people know of our connection and still live.”

Patton swallowed. Did that handful of people now include the three of them? How hard must it have been on Logan? To never have anyone stick around. To only have his mother for company. No friends---how---Patton bit his lip. ”That sounds so lonely, Lo.” No wonder he’d been so withdrawn when they’d first met. If everyone who came in contact with him died...why would he try to get to know anyone?

Logan shrugged, looking away. “I didn’t know better.”

“Geez and I thought my childhood was bad.” Roman said, running a hand through his rain soaked hair. “But to grow up with---with--”

“The worst murderous Human Black Widow on record to ever walk the planet?” Virgil supplied, fiddling with his sleeves as he too studied their friend.

“That’s one way to refer to her.” Logan mumbled, fidgeting under their combined stares.

Roman clicked his tongue. “Yah, that---” He spread his arms wide. “That sucks, big time, Spock. How in the world are you not more messed up having her as a Mom?”

“More...messed up?” Lo repeated, raising his eyebrows, rubbing his hand against his chest. “She’s probably killed more people than half the state of Wyoming and you wonder why I’m not more messed up?”

“Well now I’m wondering how you’ve passed as more normal.” Virgil muttered as Roman blanched.

“Right? I mean…She was teaching you to--to hunt humans, Lomageddon! That’s not a normal Mommy thing to do-- Wait!” Ro pointed between the two of them. "Pat's still alive! Did you ever pass that particular gruesome lesson with someone else or--”

I’ll feast on the newcomers. No worries, Logan. Momma will eat too.” She said, two of her hands guiding the boy’s fangs to Patton’s exposed neck as faint voices and stomping sounded overhead. “Hurry now.” She encouraged, withdrawing. “It’s fast food today.”

Pwotect you.

A gentle tug and Logan stepped back, a wad of webbing held in his hands. “See. Safe. Hod still.” His little fingers easily tore away the remaining webs from Patton, freeing him in seconds. “No eat. No die. All safe. K?”

Patton drew in a steadying breath and took a deliberate step closer, squeezing Lo’s hands as he did so.

Trust Me.

I’m NOT scared. Not of you.

“What does it matter?" Patton asked, half turning to the others. “He saved my life. Lo isn’t going to hurt us.”

With how skittish Logan had been about telling them what he was, he hardly was acting like the suave charismatic Widow they’d been taught to look out for.

“But that doesn’t answer the question.” Virgil said gesturing to Logan as he continued circling them. “Sure a three year old may not kill the first time he’s given the chance, but you grew up with her, L. You were there. Indoctrinated in her ways! How many---how---are you---” He made a face.

Logan slowly raised his eyes to meet Virge’s. “A Killer? Or was Murderer the word you were looking for?”

A chill went down Patton’s spine as Roman took two steps back, eyes wide.

Logan? A killer? No. NO WAY. NO.

Virgil stopped, setting his jaw as he looked Logan squarely in the eyes. “Yes. How far did your apple fall from her tree?”

Little Logan frowned up at the ring as it flashed light blue. “Not s’posed to glow no--” He paled, pitch black eyes going wide. “RUN!” He yelled, frantically shoving Patton outside and slamming the door in his face. “RUN! HOOMAN RUN! “RUAAAAAAAHH---” The scream cut off abruptly, followed by a sickening thud against the door.

Keep you safe.

No. Patton pressed his lips together, slightly shaking his head. Logan was good. He was nothing like his mom. He had to believe that otherwise wouldn’t the three of them be dead by now? They’d been living together for the past six months and Widows--

Widows kill within four.

The pendant didn’t glow around Lo unless he was holding it. He wasn’t a threat.

Right?

Logan exhaled, his eyes growing dark behind his glasses as he pulled his hand free, crossing it over his chest. “You might as well be talking apples and oranges. She tried to make me just like her. But we’re…” He rubbed his chest, looking away. “Different.”

Patton tilted his head, watching Logan’s hand over where the Widow mark hid.

She pressed him close to the upside down red triangle on her chest. There, there.” She soothed.

Red. Logan’s Mom’s mark had been plain red. But Logan’s was--

Black and Red.

Patton narrowed his eyes, before quickly smoothing his expression before Lo could notice. That coloration wasn’t normal either. Widows only had red hourglasses like their spider counterparts. Was that the ‘difference’ Logan spoke of? Why was his mark--

“Tried?” Roman repeated.

Lo nodded, looking up. “I’m not a killer, Virgil.” He shifted his gaze to meet Roman’s worried eyes. “Roman.” He half turned to Patton. “Patton. Believe me, I’ve never taken a life--killed” He exhaled, shoulders slumping as stared at his feet. “But I did drink plenty of human blood and tissue. Just not---not recently...years really--since I uh--” He gave a half shrug. “Left.”

“Left?” Patton whispered. But Logan was so young! He was Baby compared to the rest of them and he had said he hadn’t drunk---drunk... blood in years. Which if he only had it while he’d been with his Mom...when had he left her? Did it have something to do with their marks? Or just his refusal to--to kill?

“So you’re not secretly sneaking out to get a fix?” Roman asked. “Stealing from blood banks? Preying on students studying late at night at the Library?

Logan’s mouth twitched, his fingers going white on his jacket. “No.”

Virgil threw his hands up in the air, pacing again. “You don’t--You’re---L. I thought--we’ve all been taught that widows have to eat human flesh or blood to live and you’re telling me--”

“I no mamma. Bad tase you. ALL bad. BLEH.”

Logan was no monster. He wasn’t Mom. “He doesn’t because...well because humans don’t taste good to you...right, Lo?” Patton asked, glancing to him uncertainly.

A lot of things could have changed since first grade.

Logan wrinkled his nose, making the exact same face he had made as a child. “Crofters No! It’s horrible. Like being forced to drink bitter moldy yogurt mixed with motor oil.”

“OH EW!” Roman shuddered, waving his hands in front of his face as if to ward off a Dragon Witch. “Ew. Ew. EW! SPECS! I like yogurt. Don’t go putting that image in my head!”

“I think you’re too late to save your tender taste buds, Princey.” Virgil remarked, scuffing the wet pavement with his shoe, attention still on Lo. “Strawberry yogurt will never taste the same.”

“Stoooop!” Roman covered his ears, ducking his head. “I caaaaan’t heeeeear yooouuuu! Lalalala.”

A soft laugh left Logan’s lips, sounding like music to Patton’s ears as he lowered his hands, spreading them apologetically. “Sorry.”

Patton relaxed at that laugh. Almost he could pretend that it was a normal conversation between them all. Almost.

Virgil huffed, rolling his eyes, even though a small smile played on his lips as well. “So we won’t be finding bags of blood anywhere? No severed heads or pickled entrails?”

Lo smirked, amber eyes glimmering in the faint light. “I thought the Master of Halloween would already have all that in his room?”

Roman snorted, pulling his hands away from his ears. “He got you there, Dr. Gloom. Out of all of us here...you are the one most into that sort of stuff, we’ve seen Sherlock’s room before remember? He’s hardly got anything morbid in there.”

“You do know that Sherlock had--”

“Ah ba da da! NO!” Roman quickly covered Virgil’s mouth. “I’m well aware how the character Sherlock lived, don’t ruin my moment!”

“Either way.” Logan shifted on his feet, brushing the hourglass on his chest. “Now that you--know...I--I understand if you don’t want me to---to you know---” He gestured to the van, taking a step back away from it. “Come back to the apartment--”

“Well, of course we don’t want you to come back ther--OW!” Roman jerked his hand away from Virgil’s mouth. “HEY!”

Logan recoiled, taking another step back, looking like a puppy that had just been kicked.

Virge spat onto the road. “That’s what you get for sticking your hand and mouth where they don’t belong, Princey”

“I was just!”

Patton grabbed Logan’s hand before he could take off, pulling him back to the van. He knew what Ro had been trying to say, but he really could have said it just a tiny bit better. “The place is still spider-proofed, Lo.” He said gently.

Logan couldn’t return home until they figured out how to unproof Patton’s spider proofing so that he would be safe.

“Exactly.” Virgil said, pulling out his keys. “Until we get it---liveable again for you, L, there’s no way we’re letting you back in.”

Logan stared at them, mouth dropping open. “You still want...to live with me?” He asked, slowly.

Roman rubbed the back of his hand, glaring at Virgil. “We did say we’re not going anywhere did we not?”

“And you said you don’t drink blood, and aren’t a murderer soo---I don’t see why you can’t stay.” Virgil shrugged. “Besides, who’s going to help me with my Chemistry if you go?”

Roman snorted. “You mean badger with endless questions about being Spliced?”

Virge stuck his tongue out. “Yes, that too. Whatever. Still doesn’t change that we still want you with us.”

“It’s just…” Logan looked between the three of them, squeezing Patton’s hand. “Hard to believe that you’re all taking this so well.”

So well? Logan had run away from them upon his first accidental revealing because they’d taken it ‘so well’. Patton could only hope that they--he could make it up to him. Revealing yourself as Spliced had to be a hard enough thing to do in the first place, and Lo had been forced to do so before he was ready.

Thanks to me.

Roman huffed, eyes going soft. “We’re not going to form a Gastonian Mob and come for your head, Lo. Despite how it looked with the swords…” He spread his hands. “I am on your side. We’re all on your side.”

“Through thick and thin, webs and fangs, stupid finals and late night celebration parties.” Virgil said with a two fingered salute. Logan licked his lips, eyes holding a careful flickering hope. “But I’m...I’m Spliced. A Widow, and you’re all okay with that? Seriously? Knowing that--that my Mom--”

“Isn’t you, Lo.” Patton interrupted firmly. The pendant proved that.

Keep you safe. Pwomise.

“You aren’t your family, so I’m told.” Roman agreed, clapping Lo on the shoulder with a grin that didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“And I mean...if you don’t mind us--”

“You mean you.” Roman interjected.

“Mind all of us.” Virgil shot him a look. “We can be your family.” He said, sharing a smile with Patton as he joined their little circle in the rain.

Patton nodded with his own smile. There was no question there. “We promise. We’re not going anywhere.” Lo would be able to rely on them, trust them, be himself around them.

Logan drew in a slow breath, studying them each in turn before he gave a jerk of a nod, briefly touching Roman’s hand before moving to Virgil’s. “I would like that…a lot actually.”

“Oh good!” Ro said, giving a huge exaggerated sigh of relief as he pulled away. “Now can we get in the van and to that hotel? I would like to get dry at some point.” He jerked his head to the car. “Pleeease, my hair is already looking as sad and dingy as Doom and Gloom over there.”

“Oh please.” Virgil rolled his eyes. “With how much gel you put on your head, I doubt a geyser could flatten it...but I am with Sir Sparkles here. Getting dry sounds good to me too.”

“Same.” Patton agreed fervently, taking initiative and ducking into the backseat of the van. The sooner he got out of these clothes and tossed them in the trash, the better.

Logan huffed a laugh and nodded, hesitating only half a second before he too followed Patton into the back. “I’m not the one with the keys Virge. That’s all on you.” He said, pulling the door shut with a quick glance to Patton for reassurance as he settled in next to him

“Yah yah...I’m on it! Hold onto your fangs.” Virgil called darting around to the driver’s side.

Roman half turned in his seat, making a show of feeling his teeth with his tongue. “Don’t have fangs to hold onto, Emo Nightmare, but I will cover your favorite hoodie in purple glitter if you don’t start this rust bucket soon.”

“Don’t you dare! I worked hard on that!” “Then get-a-drivin!”

Lo shook a head, a small smile on his face as he relaxed back against the seat. “It’s like nothing’s changed.” He mumbled to Patton as the van chugged into life.

Keep you safe.

Patton leaned into him, resting his head on Logan’s shoulder. “Because nothing really has, Lo.” He said softly, winding their fingers together as Virgil pulled out of the lot. “You’re still you, and that’s all that matters.”

To Be Continued Epilogue

Taglist in Reblog

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franticlittlegeek · 5 years ago

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Let me preface this by saying: This is not a personal attack on you if you love Nesta.

After spending a decent amount of time in this fandom I’ve noticed that Nesta Stan’s can be awful to people who don’t like her, I’m not saying that everyone who likes Nesta hates on anyone who doesn’t I’ve just seen a lot of hate been dished out over and opinion of a fictional character.

I admit, I don’t like Nesta.

That’s my opinion, please respect it and I’ll respect yours. I don’t need to hear/read all the things you love about Nesta. I can guarantee you, I’ve heard them all before and have still come to this conclusion myself. At this current moment my opinion can not be swayed.

I’ve created a list of many of the main reasons I dislike Nesta Archeron. No I didn’t do it to bash her character, no i didn’t do it to try and sway people over to the other side, no I didn’t do this as a personal attack, etc.

I simply wrote this list so that the Nesta stans can at least understand where the people who don’t like Nesta are coming from, instead of calling them ignorant, close-minded, etc. (all insults I have seen delivered to anti Nesta fans)

Read this or don’t, I don’t care. I just wanted there to be something for people to read so we may all better understand instead of jumping to hate others. I’ve seen multiple people being hated for expressing an opinion and honestly I’m sick of it.

1. It is heavily implied ( at least in my interpretation) that Nesta has been treating Feyre horribly since they were children, as in before their mother died and they lost all their wealth. It is inexcusable to be that mean and awful to someone, especially your sibling, for no reason ( At least, no apparent reason)

2. She disregards everything Feyre does as unimportant or not good enough. Nesta knowingly spends any extra funds on luxuries for herself instead of necessities for Feyre. Feyre busted her ass when she was a teenager just to keep her family safe and cared for, Nesta completely disregards this.

3. Despite treating her father horribly, she is still his favourite child. This really has nothing to do with her but it just rubs me the wrong way.

4. I would agree that Nesta being rude and standoffish to the other characters in the novel could be viewed as a coping mechanism and a side-effect from her upbringing, however it seems to me that Nesta goes out of her way to treat people who have been nothing but kind to her horribly. Rhys opens up his home to her, Cassian tries to help her, Feyre trying to befriend her sister, etc. she treats all of the previous characters maliciously when there really is no need too.

5. The whole scene when Feyre sees her sisters for the first time after turning High Fae. Nesta is openly degrading and bashing Feyre for something she had no control over and would have died without. Elain, while being skittish and afraid, still makes an effort to sit next to the very people she was taught to fear, because she’s her sister. Nesta does not give this same courtesy.

6. In addition to the previous point, many people probably say things like “At least Nesta opened up her home to them!” But she really didn’t. Feyre got them that house through Tamlin. Nesta did nothing to claim that as her home besides live in it.

7. I’m going to get a lot of hate for this one but, Nesta does not deserve Cassian. Now this one is less factual and more opinionated. I’ll respect your opinion on this but please respect mine. As I see it, unless their is a huge character shift in Nesta (and I mean huge) I can’t see their relationship being anything but Cassian helping her, Cassian giving things to her, Cassian supporting her, Etc. I can’t honestly see a relationship between them where Cassian isn’t giving nearly all the effort and getting next to nothing in return. Cassian has problems of his own, things he needs help and support with and I can’t honestly see Nesta giving that to him.

8. One thing I see a lot in Nestas defence is the fact Nesta thought about going across the wall after Feyre was taken. But Nesta only thought about it and ultimately decided that saving her sister was not worth endangering herself. And I’m not saying that Nesta should be a selfless character, but I personally don’t believe Nesta thinking about helping Feyre serves as a reedeamable quality.

9. I also don’t want to say Nesta should be a perfect character, devoid of any flaws. None of the characters in this series are flawless, it’s one of the things I love about them. With that being said, Nesta has next to no reedeamable qualities, other than her love and protectiveness over Elain.

10. Nesta is not “misunderstood” she is not “misguided” she is abusive. While there may be reasons contributing to her abusive behaviour, this does not lessen the severity and excuse it. An abusive person is abusive, regardless of what caused them to behave that way.

11. A very common defence of Nesta is that “If she was a man every one in this fandom would love her!” Which is complete bullshit. Yes her behaviour towards drinking and one night stands would likely be more accepted but her abusive nature wouldn’t be. Both Tamlin and Nesta emotionally abused Feyre. Both Tamlin and Nesta verbally abused Feyre. Both are ABUSIVE. And yet Tamlin gets major hate (as he should) for these behaviours and this is not translated over to Nesta. Say what you want about this but you cannot convince me that Nesta is treated differently by the fandom for any reason other than she is the woman and for some reason many people don’t believe women can be abusive in the way men can.

12. So many people hate Rhys for not being overwhelmingly nice and open for Nesta. Nesta abused the love of his life for the years. Why should he show her any love when she’s been nothing but horrible to most, if not all, of his family. AntiRhys is quite often bullshit based on people trying to make excuses and coddle Nesta.

13. Nesta is a grown adult and should act like it. She throwns hissy fits and tantrums like a teenager and can’t seem to do anything by herself. If Feyre was not there to help her Nesta would have been dead a long time ago because of her unwillingness to do anything for anyone.

14. I won’t deny that Nesta has issues, she is obviously struggling with depression and PTSD and there is nothing wrong with that. That being said these are not excuses for abusive behaviour.

15. “The IC slut shamed Nesta!” They really didn’t, Feyre at the very base of it all is concerned and worried about her sister, despite how horrible Nesta was to her. And are we not going to mention Nesta slut shaming Feyre for sleeping with Isaac?

16. Nesta isn’t some Strong willed Badass, most of Nestas power over the other characters comes from tearing them down. Nesta isn’t strong, strength is not hurting someone to prove you’re better.

TL;DR- Nesta is abusive.

I am aware many of these points are essentially the same thing. They all root back to the same thing after all, Nesta is abusive.

I don’t need people to agree with me, frankly I don’t care, I’m just so sick and tired of people forgiving Nesta for unforgivable behaviours.

I know Nesta is going to get a redemption arc and it sickens me, why not give one to Tamlin too! And Eris! And Keir! And Ianthe! And every other abusive prick in the series!

I’d also like to clarify I am NOT Antisjm or antiACOTAR, I personally love Sarah J Maas and the ACOTAR series and I think that it’s more realistic to have abusive characters.

#anti nesta #anti nesta archeron #anti nessian

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ohblackdiamond · 4 years ago

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little t&a (paul/gene, nc-17) (part 16 of 29)

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9 part 10 part 11 part 12 part 13 part 14 part 15 part 16 part 17 part 18 part 19 part 20 part 21 part 22 part 23 part 24 part 25 part 26 part 27 part 28 part 29

Four weeks before KISS gets back on tour, Gene discovers that Paul’s been cursed by a groupie. For the sake of KISS’ finances, Paul’s comfort levels, and Gene’s libido, this crisis must be resolved. Sexswap fic. In this chapter: Paul confronts painful truths in the car; Gene confronts Peter.

Paul drove for half an hour at least without a destination in mind. He only stopped to get gas, handing the attendant the last five-dollar bill in his wallet. It didn’t even fill the tank completely, but he was past caring.

He felt like he was going to be sick. His eyes were watering up, and he blinked back the tears. He hadn’t cried this whole time, not since Gene had come. He wasn’t going to cry now.

Gene didn’t understand. He’d never understand. That was to his credit, really, not having any idea, thinking it was some bullshit about him being afraid, or not wanting to be touched. Poor, stupid Gene, who wasn’t stupid at all, who just had an idiot for a bandmate and a best friend, an idiot who’d decided a taste of what he wanted was better than nothing at all.

Except he’d been fooling himself. Just like Carol. Paul couldn’t have been happy with a taste. He’d started to realize that as soon as Gene had agreed to fuck him. But it had really hit him when Gene had joked about the photo album. Just—just sticking him in there with all those girls, one more nude Polaroid out of hundreds. Gene wanted him. Sure he did. Wanted him just exactly as much as he wanted anyone else with a pair of tits, just long enough for a lay. Just as long as Paul himself had wanted Carol or any other groupie. Once Gene had him, once the mystery was gone, the curse resolved, there’d be nothing left. Not even residual interest. The only difference was, they’d have to keep seeing each other after. Sitting down at business meetings. Posing for pictures. Leaning into the same mics. Applying makeup backstage. He’d have to live the rest of his life with Gene right there, knowing he’d never want to be with him again.

He’d been sickened by the thought. He’d wanted to be strong enough to turn Gene down, to—value himself enough to not want someone who’d only want him once, but he hadn’t been. Every time he’d felt like saying something, he’d swallowed it. On the bed, he’d tried to approach it clinically, to hurt himself less, just a series of actions with nothing attached to them. He’d thought Gene might not even sense something was wrong, since he was getting what he wanted, the image at least of a girl stripping him down and promising herself to him, like some old fairy tale. Three days of toting him around, rewarded with an easy lay and a broken spell. But for all Paul had insisted he was fine, Gene hadn’t believed him.

Paul had kept on anyway. Outright begged. And Gene had kept turning him down like the gentleman he wasn’t, for his sake, for the band’s sake, for whatever.

Better this way anyway. No hard feelings. He’d go to a bar just like Gene had suggested. Get a guy to fuck him, turn back and leave. Gene would get to go home knowing KISS had its frontman back in tour-worthy condition. Paul would get to keep his house and his money and maybe even that visit with his family. And in the end, they’d all go back on the road and forget any of this ever happened. Enough women, enough sane women, Playmates and catalog models, no more starfuckers, and he could convince himself he hadn’t wanted Gene at all, like that was just another side-effect of the curse.

His stomach lurched in protest. He wasn’t yet enough of a bastard to lie to himself that grotesquely. He’d wanted Gene years before he’d woken up in this body.

He kept thinking as he weaved through the late-night traffic. Kept thinking, even though he didn’t want to. Their trip to the mountains lingered caramel-thick in his mind. He’d been eighteen. Winter of ’70. He’d skipped school for the chance to hitchhike again with Gene, a fun but pointless trip in the mountains with some chicks they’d met prior. One that Gene seemed to dig, though she wasn’t pretty at all. They’d ended up in the rundown house the girl was renting, spending the night there, and cold as it was, Gene had a plan to at least warm himself up.

He’d told Gene not to try to make it with the girl. She might not like you. She might get pissed-off and kick us both out, and then where would we be? And Gene had nodded along, but about an hour later, Paul had woken up among the moth-eaten blankets on the floor to Gene gone and the muffled sound of talking from a door or two away. An awful mechanical screech, like a microphone on the fritz. And, a few moments later, the sounds of grunts and low moans. He’d gotten the girl after all. A good time, it had sounded like. Back then, Paul hadn’t had anything to compare it to but his own jackoff sessions. He’d been desperately virginal, never making it past second base with any girlfriend.

Traveling back home the next afternoon, tired, cold, and hungry, Paul’d asked what that screeching sound was, even though he knew already.

(oh, that was just her hearing aid)

(her hearing aid?) He’d repeated it dumbly.

(yeah. it went off on accident. she was deaf.)

(oh.)

He’d waited on Gene to comment. Expected something smartassed. Feared a complaint, or something, something worse, something that would tear into his guts and rot their friendship. Less than a year, that was all he’d known Gene, and Gene was the only friend he’d ever really had. He couldn’t lose him. But Gene hadn’t said anything else.

(was it okay?)

(yeah. it was fine. we had a great time.)

(i—not that. was it… you didn’t mind, did you?)

(what was there to mind?)

(that she was deaf.) And then, spilling out like a tipped pitcher of water— (you didn’t think… you didn’t think it was bad, did you, you don’t think—you don’t think people like that are—retarded, or crippled—)

(why would I think any of that?)

(i don’t know.)

(she was just deaf, stan. that’s all.)

(what’s the matter?)

He’d told him then. All of a sudden, a flurry of words that just seemed to pour out of nowhere at all. Eighteen, skipping school, carrying nothing but a guitar case—feeling more nakedly vulnerable than he ever had before—he’d told him he was deaf in one ear. He’d told him he didn’t even have that ear. Gene’s eyes had gone to the side of his face, unconsciously, and Paul had cupped his hand against his temple as if Gene could possibly see through the thick mass of dark brown curls.

He’d waited on Gene to say something well-meaning and trite, or something cruel. He could think of a million possibilities—the hell are you doing, trying to play music, trying to sing, when you can’t half-hear—but he hadn’t. His arm had wrapped around Paul’s back, his hand on his waist, and he’d said five words.

(that’s okay, stan)

(you’re okay)

That was the start. That was the start. Seven years and it hadn’t gone away.

It had taken so little to want Gene, that was the hell of it. Gene who’d had nothing to recommend himself back then but half a bachelor’s degree and a lot of nerve, Gene who back then didn’t even have the decency to be attractive, conventionally or otherwise. Gene who didn’t even have any idea. But the feeling had prickled through him all the same, scratching into his soul like the most saccharine of lyrics. It was so damn pathetic that he’d never stopped being disgusted at himself. Barely any better than Carol. One low moment, one revelation. That wasn’t why you were supposed to love someone, that wasn’t—

He took a sharp breath. Fumbled for the Dairy Queen napkins, dabbed at his eyes and smeared away the snot on his face. In the dark like this, he was lucky he hadn’t unconsciously reverted to one of his old cab routes. He was lucky he’d found himself in one of the parking lots near CBGB.

Too dressed up for their clientele, sure. Sure. No big rockstar holding his hand and shutting up every catcall before it was even said. That was all right. He shut off the engine and got out of the car, dropping his keys and wallet in the pocket of his fake leather jacket. It was a weird ensemble, the punkish jacket with the nice dress—how much had he made Gene spend on all that—how much—he couldn’t think about that now—but that didn’t matter, either. He had what he needed. It was late enough that there wasn’t even a line at the door. No reason to hesitate before striding through, back to the pounding bass and flashing lights of another place he didn’t belong. No reason to hesitate besides his own cowardice, and the emptiness of being without a hand to hold. No reason at all.

Gene had thought, fleetingly, that Paul might turn around and come back. Five minutes passed, then ten, before he realized he was wrong.

Wrong all the way around. Wrong in how he’d treated him, from the time he’d walked onto his front porch up until right now. He’d directed everything for Paul. Set up appointments. Planned out their trajectory every single day. Thinking that was best. Thinking Paul was too shaken up to do anything about his situation by himself. And Paul had just… Paul had just swallowed down any real protests and let him do it. Just let Gene railroad him over and over.

He’d hurt him and he hadn’t meant to. He’d eroded Paul’s self-respect. Made Paul rely on him. Monetarily, emotionally, sexually. Like Paul was some hopeless princess in a tower, unable to take anything into his own hands, instead of his friend, instead of his best friend. How awful did that have to feel?

He wasn’t going to go after him. He’d let Paul have control, finally, the way he should have all along. Let him dictate how to unravel the curse, and who with, because Gene couldn’t do it for him. The one thing Paul had really asked of him and he hadn’t managed it.

She’s too sweet for all this bullshit. That was what that chick at CBGB had said. Paul wasn’t sweet at all. He was a neurotic mess no matter what body he occupied. He was a vain, pigheaded bag of nerves, nothing like the swaggering Starchild or the cute little flirt he was probably putting on for some guy in a bar right now. He was…

He was…

Gene lay on Paul’s bed for awhile. Paul’s side of it, even. Greeted with the same smells as during the dance, Aquanet and Aramis and maybe something else, some heady kind of pheromone. Paul probably wasn’t going to smell like that once he came back. That was okay. He’d feel better, back to himself. They’d both feel better. Back to business as usual with no regrets. Paul’d done the right thing. If he lay there long enough, he could convince himself of that much.

The phone rang, driving away Gene’s thoughts. He answered it—stupidly hoping to hear Paul’s voice on the other end of the line.

“Hey.”

“Gene?” It was Peter, harried as ever. “You’re both home?”

“No. Paul went out.”

“Paul went out? Where the hell did he go?” Peter’s sloshed voice was hard to hear over the din of voices and music. He must have still been at Studio 54. “Listen, Ace said he saw him in the basement, said he wasn’t back to normal.”

“That’s right.”

“Said he ran off from him! What happened? What’d that girl tell him?”

“She told him how to reverse the curse.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s what Ace said. But he didn’t say how. Is Paulie back yet?”

“I said he went out—”

“Is he back yet?”

Gene hesitated.

“No.”

“You let him go out alone as a chick?” The horror in Peter’s voice could have smashed a windshield. “Jesus Christ, Gene! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“He wanted to fix it—”

“I don’t care what he wanted to fix! It’s New York at two in the fucking morning! That poor kid’s a sitting duck!”

“Pete—”

“You fucking know better than this! Chicks are vulnerable, you asshole! And Paul—”

“Pete, don’t scream at me.”

“Don’t tell me what to do! Paul’s stupid anyway! You remember that fucking photoshoot for Hotter than Hell! He was passed out on the fucking bed! Drank too much ’cause everyone else was! And that guy, he almost—”

“I know.”

“Then fucking get him!” Peter was spewing the words. “I can’t—me and Ace, we can’t—you gotta take care of him! You’re supposed to!”

“I don’t know where he went.”

“Then find out!” Peter cursed loudly. “Can’t be that hard! Fuck, I thought he meant something to you! I thought you—”

“I’ll get him! I’ll get him.” Gene’s heartrate was going too fast. “Do… do you want me calling you up at the club? Are you going to be there?”

“I dunno.” Peter said something Gene couldn’t discern, probably to whoever was nearby. “Call me at home. Leave Lydia a message if you gotta.”

“Okay.”

Peter hung up on him without a goodbye. Gene guessed he didn’t deserve one. His throat hurt, all of a sudden. Stupid. Stupid. This wasn’t—he called up the chauffeur again, sweat smearing his fingers. He didn’t know where Paul was. There were hundreds, thousands of bars he could’ve stopped at. Paul knew his way around New York way better than he did, from those years as a cabbie. The more he thought about it, the worse he felt.

“Where to, Gene?”

“CBGB,” he said, finally. “Just take me to CBGB.”

#kiss the band #kiss fanfiction #paul stanley #gene simmons #gene simmons x paul stanley #peter criss

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seriouslyhooked · 5 years ago

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Lost Souls and Reveries (Part 22)

24 part AU written for @cssns. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6,Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21. Story available on AO3 Here and FF Here. Banner created by the amazingly talented @shipsxahoy!!

Killian Jones is a wolf shifter without roots, without plans, and without a pack. He’s a rogue, someone humans should avoid and shifters should be wary of given his lineage. But one night years back set him on a path he didn’t realize he was taking, a path leading to a future he is destined for. That future is tied up in one woman – a human named Emma Nolan. Together Emma and Killian will find not only answers, but a love that’s truly fated. But will love be enough to set them free, or will past demons win out in the end? (Answer: love always wins – I am writing this so despite some tiny pockets of angst it’s basically a fluff-filled insta-love fest). Rated M.

A/N: Hey everyone! I know it has been such a long time since I updated this fic, which is crazy because the chapters are taking place one right after another still, but this fall has been filled with travel and very little free time for me. I didn’t get a chance to write, and though I wanted to get the story out there and share the ideas I’ve had all this time, I wanted to give myself the space to do this story justice. It’s been an ambitious AU for me, there’s a lot of moving parts and way more reveals than I ever do, making it a really big undertaking. But all of your support along the way and your continued interest has helped keep me motivated even in the time I couldn’t work on this. As such, I really hope you will all enjoy this chapter, and I thank you all for reading!

She is never leaving my sight again, Killian thought to himself as he held Emma to his side, keeping ever vigilant about their surroundings out here in the woods.

The two of them had stolen their temporary moment alone after the encounter with the bear, but both of them knew that quiet couldn’t really last forever. Nevertheless, the wish to run away with Emma and barricade her from anything that might harm her was strong in Killian. He resisted, knowing that leaving would not only put everyone else at risk, but that it would make his Emma deeply unhappy, but in the privacy of his own mind, he allowed those thoughts to wander. At the end of the day, his priority was Emma and the baby that she was carrying now, and there was just no changing that.

As if she could hear his mind’s rampant musings, Emma’s hand came to cover his arm, a silent show that she was here and that she was readily accepting his need to protect her. She looked up to him, and though he was certain he hadn’t pushed the worried internal dialogue her way through their mental link, he could see that she knew anyway. He couldn’t hide the hurt and the harried frenzy that nearly losing her had conjured up. It still lingered here with him, as it would until all of this was over and done.

We’ll get through this, she pushed to him quietly, and in response Killian quietly brought her hand to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss atop her smooth and creamy skin before leading it to rest above his heart. The smile she graced him with at the reassuring motion filled him with renewed hope, but yet again their quiet shows of intimacy were short lived.

“I still don’t get it,” a voice interjected, pulling Emma and Killian from their semi-private moment. “He comes to town, tries to kill us all, claims Anna, barrels into the magic force field, and now… nothing.”

Tink’s words, lobbed at the bear that had at first seemed like nothing more than a foe, prompted all of them to look in the beast’s direction. The grizzly was ferocious and imposing still, with eyes a tempered red color, but they lacked the vibrancy of before. Now, instead of glowing a sickening scarlet, they were more molten, a deep burgundy where they were once so bright. The mellowing out of the color signaled to Killian that the bear had calmed somehow, not breaking from its fever, but tamping it down. That didn’t mean he trusted this unknown shifter though, and until they were certain he posed no threat to Emma, that bear was getting nowhere near his woman again.

“Could we maybe keep our less helpful thoughts to ourselves for the time being?” Emma countered, and though the words were sharp, it was understandable why she said them. For as much as the bear was an enigma to them, he was just as much of a puzzle to Anna, if not more so. Emma’s friend was still somewhat dazed from it all, and currently Elsa and Liam were standing with her, the former trying to comfort her sister, and the latter keeping his reflexes sharp in case the lass made a break for the bear.

“Sorry, it’s just…” Tink trailed off, unsure of how to phrase this precarious situation.

“It’s just bat shit crazy is what it is,” Ruby exclaimed.

“And about to get crazier,” Emma’s Uncle Lance noted, commenting on the impending hubbub that was coming down the road right now.

The Nolan’s were all together in their car, not having had the chance to run as Liam, Killian, and Graham had. They’d also had to wait until they were given some sort of all clear. The situation was now somewhat contained, but before that there was too much risk in having Neal, Mary Margaret, or Ruth out here. Killian had never seen Emma’s father in action, but he knew the man had been trained his whole life to be a hunter. David Nolan would have all the necessary skills to have been a part of this fight, but as it turned out, the fight came down almost entirely to the instincts of Emma and her wolf.

“Emma!”

The car was still in motion, braking on the loose, dirt path, but it did nothing to stop Mary Margaret from jumping out and running to her daughter. Killian moved back ever so slightly, knowing what would come next, but he stayed as close as possible to the massive hug Emma’s mother bestowed on her. Tears of relief streamed down the older woman’s face, but she didn’t break down, even in her moment of vulnerability. She may have been human, but Emma’s mother was strong, and fiercely protective of the children she loved so dearly.

“I told you I’d be okay,” Emma whispered, attempting to share a smile with her Mum, and the words felt like a punch to his gut. He closed his eyes briefly, seeing again the image of Emma trapped beneath the snarling bear, but he shook it away, willing himself to be strong for his mate. Reliving that terrible moment did nothing but make him weaker and more worried.

Emma’s father, brother, and grandmother all surrounded her as well, hugging Emma close before turning their attention to the others. Mary Margaret immediately moved to Gwen, trying to take strength from a woman who had answered in their hour of need, and David clearly felt the support of his lifelong friend and capable shifter Lance, but soon the greetings and reunions were tossed aside, and all attention turned to the problem at hand. It was interrogation en masse, and the questions tossed out were free game for all of them and in dire need of answer.

“Is everyone all right?”

“Everyone’s in one piece,” Graham said, having taken account of the whole group’s status as soon as the bear was contained. No one had withstood anything that amplified shifter healing wouldn’t clear up by the end of the day. All in all, they’d been incredibly lucky.

“Any injuries?”

“Just to my pride. Damn bear got the better of me at one point, and I can’t say I’m too thrilled with that,” Granny quipped, prompting the ghost of a smile to tug at Killian’s lips. In another moment he’d laugh at the old wolf and her totally serious resentment at having been bested, but things being as they were, he couldn’t quite get to the level of comfort needed for a good dose of fun. “But other than that, we’re all fine.”

“Barely,” Emma’s aunt coughed out and Killian watched as Emma’s head snapped to her. A quiet contest of wills elapsed between them. Clearly her aunt wanted to disclose how close things had really come, but Emma wanted to spare her parents the pain of what could have been. It wasn’t clear who would prove victorious, but then Mary Margaret caught the exchange and there was no avoiding the conversation.

“What happened?” Her tone held the firm but alarmed kind of shrillness only a mother could produce.

“Uh, it might be totally out of the realm of normal, but it’s also kind of straight forward,” Tink hedged, shrugging a shoulder as she proceeded to give the barest of highlights, thus helping Emma keep things under wraps. “A giant, angry, magically roided up grizzly shifter came to town, we lured it out here, we got it in the magical crystal thing, and now here we are.”

“Is that all?” David asked, having caught on to his wife’s increased agitation. “Emma?”

Emma’s muscles tightened significantly as the conversation went on, her stance looking more and more like she might just shift and run away from all of this. But instead, she looked to Killian, asking him only with her expression if he’d have her back. Of course he would, and he sealed that silent oath with a kiss to her temple. She leaned into the action for only the briefest of moments before taking a deep breath and coming clean.

The look of anguish on her parents’ faces was likely punishment enough for Emma, who had already felt some guilt about the danger she’d put herself in. Neal, for his part, looked awed at her bravery, and at one point he even interrupted with a word of praise, before a look from his mother quickly cut that thinking off. When Emma was done, it was clear that her mother especially was both wracked with worry and terribly angry. Her emotions were big and jumbled and messy, but though she probably deserved to get them out, Killian felt it was time to step in.

“Obviously there’s a lot to unpack there, but the big thing is Emma is safe now and there will never be another similar instance again.” He looked to Emma, who nodded readily. “And right now we don’t have the luxury of examining this all again. Gold has essentially declared war on us with this attack, and we can’t assume that’ll be the end of it.”

“So we’re certain now that it’s him?” Ruth asked. She was struggling to keep up given how much had been happening and that was understandable. Between Gold and Emma’s great uncle George’s appearance, there were so many unknowns hanging about right now, certainly more than could ever be easily understood.

“There’s too much magic involved for it to be anyone else,” Ruby replied. “But we were hoping you might confirm. The enchantment on the collar is still pulsing even now. It should look similar to the charms you witnessed.”

Ruth followed Ruby towards the choker, which had still yet to be touched by anyone but Emma. Without any discussion about the chance of her being jinxed somehow by the object, Ruth reached out to examine it. She nodded as soon as her skin made contact with the magic itself.

“This is definitely Gold’s work. It looks and feels the same. It’s reptilian almost, if that makes sense.”

“It doesn’t, but not much does anymore,” Liam remarked, and again Killian wished he was in the place to laugh. God knew they all needed it, but with so much still unknown every bit of their energy needed to be tied up in solving this life threatening puzzle.

Ruth continued to examine the artifact, her eyes taking in the material that appeared to be leather bound together by some kind of silver or platinum. It was a strange combination, but there was something in Ruth’s eyes that spoke to familiarity. Killian didn’t know if it was just her identifying the magic or what, but the hairs on the back of his neck went up just before she turned the leather over, a shocked look rushing across her face as she dropped the object back to the ground.

“Grandma?” Emma asked, having picked up on the same nervous energy that Killian did even before it truly managed to manifest. They both moved towards Ruth, searching for answers, but she appeared speechless as she looked back at them.

“Mom?” David asked, moving towards her quickly, trying to see if she was all right before sparing a glance at the cursed collar. Instantly his face portrayed the same shock, and then he let loose a very rare curse. “Son of a bitch.”

“Language,” Mary Margaret and Emma’s Aunt Gwen both said absently, but it was obviously instinct and driven by no sort of real intention. Within seconds Emma’s mother was at David’s side and held his hand in hers once more. “David, what is it?”

“That sigil.”

Killian turned his focus to the emblem on the leather collar. It was all hard lines and angles, and though it was a random association, Killian thought of how it looked so unlike most shifter symbols. It was clearly old, dating back far before the flags and figures of most great houses, but it sliced through the collar with an authority and a bluntness that looked like many knives hard at work.

“You know it?” Emma asked, prompting her father out of the angry and confused mood he was now grappling with,

“It’s the Nolan crest,” her Dad said. “And not only that, it’s my Uncle’s work. See here,” he motioned at the ridges and how the slices were jagged but perfectly symmetrical. “Nolans for centuries used branding techniques to establish our crest, but my Uncle said it left the smell of smoke. He wanted something cleaner and so he studied the old ways. All this was done with one knife in one stroke.”

“But with magic anything can be recreated, can’t it? It could be a set-up, something to throw us off the trail,” Anna said. Yet even as the words left her lips, she was still trying to figure it all out for herself. “Still, the magic is so obviously Gold’s. No one else can recreate that, why bother with any attempted distraction?”

“It’s not a diversion. It’s a claim. Gold made his with his magic and my brother made his with this,” Ruth said, her words finally reappearing though her eyes were still somewhat glazed over by ghosts from her past. “God, I wished I’d never see this symbol again, never mind the man who made it. To think he’s working with Gold. This is a nightmare.”

“I just don’t get it. Why are they both doing this? What’s the end game?” Graham asked.

“My Uncle’s will be as it always was – to eradicate shifters.”

“Even family?” Killian asked and David nodded.

“But what about Gold?” Elsa asked. “He’s got no ties to any of us but Ruth. Surely she can’t mean that much to him. She’s been awake five years, and he could have found her in any of that time.”

“Look, I don’t know the guy, but from everything you guys have found out, does it really seem like he needs a reason?” Tink asked. “The man is clearly more than a few marbles shy of a whole set.”

“He’ll have a reason,” Ruth responded. “But Elsa’s right, it can’t be me. Most likely it’s you all.” She gestured at Ruby, Elsa, Anna, and Emma.

“All of us?” Emma asked. “I mean I get them, they’re witches, but I’m -,”

“The Nolan heir and a hybrid shifter. Not to mention you’re mated to the true alpha of one of the strongest packs in America. Elsa, Anna, and Ruby have tremendous power, to be sure, and having joined together in one place, they’d be a natural threat to a power-hungry beast like Gold. But you’re truly unique, Emma, something that can’t be recreated, and to Gold that’s worth more than anything.”

“Clearly he’s willing to die over it,” Liam said shaking his head as his eyes met Killian’s. “And he will. Soon as we can find that fu-,” A shove from Elsa reminded Liam of the smaller ears in the group now and he cleared his throat before finding another word that didn’t fit nearly as well. “foe?”

“Not terrible. Not a great save, but not awful,” Neal joked, earning a smile from the adults who were still all in awe that this young boy was managing to swim in the deep end of all of this shifter drama.

“Where’s Lance?” Emma’s father asked, drawing attention to the fact that his old friend was missing from this conversation. Killian hadn’t even noticed, a testament to the extreme stealth of mountain lion shifters.

“He picked up a scent earlier but with the bear and all there was no time. We had to get to you all as fast as we could,” Gwen explained. “He’s circling back to track it now.”

“Another shifter?”

“No. I mean I don’t know. I didn’t even smell anything, but he said there was something…”

At that moment, the low rumble of a wild cat running came through the underbrush and then Lance appeared at the tree line in his shifter form. In the blink of an eye he transformed to human again. This was pretty normal for all of them, as even Emma and her friends had more exposure to shifting this summer, but for Neal it was a shock and that manifested when the boy gasped aloud. One look spared in the boy’s direction showed he was nothing but excited. No fear, no dismay. Just the giddy look of childlike wonder that a kid might have in the face of a perfect Christmas or a trip to Disney World.

“You didn’t recognize it because it’s a scent from before we ever met,” Lance said emerging from the woods. “It’s feint, but it’s citrus rinds and tea leaves.”

“George,” David and Ruth said at the same time, both resigned but obviously perplexed.

“Lance?” Gwen asked, putting her hand to his arm in question, echoing everyone else’s confusion.

“Hunters bathe in salted citrus waters with tea leaves before an attack. It largely suppresses human scent and keeps them nearly untraceable, blending in with forest smells better than any other combination. I only know about it at all because it’s what David always smelled like growing up.”

“He’s here?” Emma’s father asked, skipping over the tea bath tidbit.

“If he isn’t then he was. Trail leads to the clinic. It’s strong there but no sign of him. SUV tire tracks in the dirt. Recently left.”

“Was the SUV big enough to hold him?” Anna asked, motioning towards the bear, her face angrier than Killian had ever seen it.

“Would have been a cramped cage,” Lance admitted, making the air around Anna practically crackle with her resentment of David’s Uncle. A breeze floated in the glen around them, and in it there was a glinting of light that spoke to something more than wind. It was Anna’s palpable energy, and though she did her best to conceal it, the storm inside her mind and heart was starting to brew in the world around them. “But there’s more. The clinic has been marked, and the animals inside are feeling very on edge. You’re gonna want to get over there before some humans do.”

“Wait but hold on, how is this even possible?” Emma asked, stalling everyone in their tracks before they sped off to the clinic. “How would your Uncle have had time to get here after messing with Neal? The bear attacked maybe thirty minutes after you left. And I’m sorry, I don’t care how skilled a hunter he is. You’re telling me he brought a giant grizzly in a huge SUV into the city Boston? Doesn’t that seem like a really dumb idea?”

“Emma’s right, the timeline is all off,” Killian affirmed, and it seemed to dawn on the others how accurate that was.

“I showed Neal a picture once we got back to the house, and he confirmed it was definitely George who approached him.”

“But what if it wasn’t?” Ruby asked, turning her inquiry to Emma’s brother. “Neal, was there anything strange about the man who approached you?”

“You mean other than the fact that he cornered me and said all that cryptic stuff about my being a hunter and his family?” Ruby nodded. “Uh, I don’t know he spoke kind of fast. Like a little faster than was easy to follow. Made the already crazy stuff he said even more confusing. It also felt like he was kind of talking to himself, answering his own questions when I didn’t really feel like he’d asked anything. And he kept flicking his wrist as he talked and then balling it up. His face got mad when he did that but only for a second.”

“That doesn’t sound like George,” Ruth said critically. “He’s a methodical man. His whole life has been about control and perfection. He speaks so well, he’s a vocal coach’s dream. Same with his movements.”

“Hunters don’t fidget,” David said, sounding like he was repeating words he was oft told in his past life as opposed to making any sort of additional commentary.

“Could a human smell a hunter, even though shifters mostly can’t?” Neal asked and Emma’s father responded.

“Yes but it would be almost unnoticeable. Why do you ask?”

“Well I didn’t really think much of it but I smelled something awful in the air when he came up to me. I thought it was just one of those city pockets you know? Where the air is just dirty and you kinda have to walk through it.”

“Could be,” Ruby said, “But sulfuric smells can be a side effect of dark magic. Ruth, what was Gold like when you interacted with him all those years ago? Do you remember?”

“Well he was much more unbalanced than George, that’s for sure. Gold used to talk in riddles anytime I met with him and always so fast you barely knew what he was saying. Now that you mention it the wrist thing sounds like something too. He used to kind of flick his up like this,” Ruth said, displaying a gesture that was almost caricature of what a person with magic might do.

“So the body language and the other clues hint that Neal was actually dealing with Gold and not George, and if that’s the case he must have used a glamour spell,” Elsa acknowledged. “Unless there’s another way?”

“No, for him to look like George it would have to be a glamour, it would explain the smell, but it would also take a lot of magical energy. He should be really weak after expending himself like that. I mean between that and the magic that’s been spent on trapping this bear… he shouldn’t even be alive.”

“’Should’ doesn’t really seem like a word that fits in our world at the moment,” Granny sassed and they all agreed. There was no reason to assume Gold was anything but fully healthy right now, no doubt through some sinister means.

“I think realistically we need to split this up. George has apparently left this mess for me at the clinic. We should start there,” Emma’s father said, nodding to Lance and his mother who both silently accepted their new assigned posts.

“Usually I’d say I’m all we need over at team ‘scent tracker,’ but with everything that’s happened today and all the breaches…”

“You need help,” Graham said, filling in for Tink without hesitation. “I’d go, but we need to keep up the appearance of normalcy for the rest of the town, and after this bear warning people are going to have questions.”

“I’ll go with Tink,” Granny offered, surprising most of them before letting out a disgruntled huff and straightening her shoulders. “Oh please, I’m old, I’m not dead. Heck the kids would say I’ve got ‘mad skills’ when it comes to tracking.”

“Any kids who would have said that are probably in their mid-thirties by now,” Killian whispered, and despite everything Emma squawked out something close to a laugh. She then sent him a sharp but loving look, telling him that now was not the time but that she did find him funny.

“As much as we have to find George, we need to track Gold just as badly,” Elsa proclaimed. “I still don’t sense him as being the biggest threat, but he’s in this too and if we’re ever going to get an idea of what the end game is, we need to know everything we can.”

“So that leaves what?” Ruby asked. “Bear watch? Liam and Killian can handle that.”

“What about us?” Emma asked, motioning towards her brother and her mother.

“We need to put some of that natural organizing to good use,” Ruth said adamantly. “Mary Margaret, you more than anyone could try and map this out. Getting everything we know in one place could help make everything more clear.”

“Plus no one is better at wrangling multiple groups,” Gwen added, waving her walkie talkie in the air before nodding towards Graham. “You’ve got a direct line to all of us, and the patience and know-how to get everything you need.”

“Well when you put it like that,” Emma’s mother said, clearly pleased with her role. “So what are we waiting for? This war ain’t gonna win itself.”

And since that was true, they all moved off to their designated jobs, though Killian kept track of Emma constantly. Luckily her mother decided to set up their brainstorming outside here in the glen, so as much as Killian was on bear watch, he was also looking out for his mate. Killian would not let anything happen to Emma and their family, so right now it was his mission to use all of his years of experience as a shifter to aid in their protection. In the long span of his life where he sought to avenge his mother, and then in the years spent tracking and avoiding any signs of Liam and his pack, he had become a well-honed machine. His skills allowed him to feel ready for whatever may come, and he trusted that his love of Emma and his want to protect both her physical being and her heart would make anything possible. Whatever foe may present themselves, he would handle them, because there was no other option as far as he or his wolf were concerned.

That readiness and familiarity with trouble, however, did not apply to everyone, and there was one person amongst them who more than anyone must be flummoxed and uneasy given all the tumult. Killian looked even now at young Neal and he felt for the boy. He was putting on a brave face, but there was still concern that made its way to the surface now and then. Emma’s brother hid it well from his overbearing and constantly watchful mother, but when Mary Margaret moved away to talk with Gwen on the walkie talkie about everything going on at the clinic, Killian saw a chance to try and do some good.

“You holding up all right, lad?”

Killian posed the question like it could in any way be straight forward to this young boy. Emma’s brother had woken up this morning a gifted but largely ordinary child. He was brilliant to be sure, but he had no real notion of what any of this meant. Human science alone couldn’t prepare him for this, not when the books they taught in schools mentioned nothing of this whole different part of the world. It must be a great shock to him, yet here Neal stood, ready for action and above the fray of questions most people, no matter what age, would grapple with when a situation like this arose.

“It makes sense in a way,” Neal admitted, shrugging his shoulder. “Not the whole my great uncle is working with a warlock thing. That’s just crazy.”

“Aye it is. But the shifting, and your wolf, they’re not as surprising to you?”

“I had dreams, back when everyone thought I was going to die.” Neal shrugged at the memory of those times, because his childhood illness was just a part of his life. It was a painful chapter of the Nolan family story, but Neal looked to be all the stronger for it now. “They were pretty all over the place. I was sleeping all the time and I was in and out, but there was a woman towards the end, that I remember. She was nice, with a smile like my mom. I knew I could trust her, and the next thing I knew she turned into a wolf and I did too. It was weird, but it felt right, you know?”

Killian gulped, knowing that the woman Neal spoke of was his mother. He debated telling the boy the full truth, but given everything that he was saddled with now, it didn’t seem wise. There would be time, hopefully, when all of this had been resolved and he and Emma could have a full discussion with Neal about all they’d learned. They’d tell him of Emma’s own dreams, of the process Elsa’s magic had undertaken to save them both, and how Killian’s mother found a way even beyond the grave to watch over him and the family he would one day love. But for now, the best course of action was bolstering Neal’s faith and telling him this would all work out okay.

“It must be strange, to learn of what you are later like this. I know for Emma it was a unique process. It can be overwhelming. But it’s also…” he searched for the right words.

“Uh, totally cool?” Neal filled in, looking genuinely enthusiastic. “I mean I can turn into a wolf. That’s pretty bad ass.”

Killian and Neal’s heads both whipped towards the direction of Mary Margaret, but despite her motherly senses, she seemed to have missed her son’s bit of cursing. That was likely for the best.

“It’s an amazing gift to be sure. I know I’d never feel truly whole without my wolf. I’m glad you and Emma will have that now too.”

“Yeah. I just wish I didn’t have to wait. I mean five more years? That feels like forever.”

Killian smiled and he knew that for Neal it must seem like just that. As a kid, years felt like they’d never pass, and time would never move in the direction that you wanted it. It took the benefit of hindsight to see that everything comes exactly when it should, and as a new shifter, Neal would be in much better shape if he had a few years of understanding who he was before moving into that phase of his life.

“When things calm down, we should talk. You’ll have questions, and while your father is well versed in much of the shifter world, he might not have all the answers.”

“Did your Dad have them?” Neal asked, not out of any malice, but because he just genuinely didn’t know the history of Killian and his family.

“No, but I was lucky to have an elder brother.”

“And now I will too,” Neal said, like Killian’s new status in the family was a long time given. Killian smiled at that, nodding.

“Aye. That you will. Whatever you need, Neal, I’ll be here to help. So will Emma, and Liam, and all of us.”

“Like a real pack,” Neal said and Killian thought about it a moment before nodding. After all, what else could they be called at this point? There were so many of them, shifter, witch, and otherwise, tied together through love, through family ties and friendship. If that wasn’t a pack as it was intended to be then Killian didn’t know what it was.

Feeling secure in the fact that Neal was okay, Killian planned to switch his attention back to the others and their deliberations, but the bear suddenly let forth a harsh huff of air, propelling the front of his body up into the air, before stomping its thick paws into the earth below. Killian went on alert, preparing to get to Emma if the grizzly should break free, but then he gathered that the others were talking about the bear and the bear was somehow communicating, though perhaps not very effectively.

“It’s the weirdest thing,” Neal said, shaking his head as he watched the captive beast.

“Seeing a mammoth grizzly in a magic cage? Yeah, weird is one way of putting it.”

“It’s not that. It’s the smell around him. It’s sterile and sharp. I swear it smells like when I was in the hospital. Like an IV but not quite.”

Sniffing the air, Killian could at first only sense the overwhelming stench of a shifter sickness and Gold’s magic, but there, underneath those notes, there was something he belatedly recognized as medical. Now that Neal said it, he wondered how he, or any of the other shifters had missed it all this time.

“I’ve got news for you, lad: those supposed genius tendencies of yours are not purely human. You’re gonna be a hell of a shifter.”

Neal grinned at that, and after Killian urged him to tell the others, a whole new door of inquiry opened. Everyone came back from their separate corners of Storybrooke, seeking to put a new piece of the puzzle in place.

“Magic and medicine? But that’s crazy. Can it even be done?” Tink asked.

“I think we’re looking at the proof,” Elsa hedged, gesturing at the bear.

“Did anyone get a bite of his neck?” Emma asked and the others who had been there in the thick of the fight shook their head. “He’s got two puncture marks there, I saw a flash of them when I took the collar off, but I just assumed…”

“Let’s all just make a plan to stop doing that for the time being,” Graham said and they heartily agreed, for surely assuming anything was getting them nowhere. They had to start from scratch and do as Neal had done, study the problem just with the facts and clues before them.

“Are the marks identical, Emma?” Neal asked and after a moment of reflection Emma nodded.

“Yeah, they looked pretty similar. I only caught a quick glimpse though.”

“Can you get him closer to us?” Neal asked and Mary Margaret shook her head.

“Neal, no -,”

“He doesn’t need to leave the enclosure, Mom. I just need to see his neck. Emma said there’s two punctures. That’s rare in medical treatment of any kind, human or animal. There’s usually only one puncture site. Whenever I needed more than one medicine they stuck me in different places or they’re infused through one site, resulting in only one puncture. Two identical pierces is almost unheard of. In fact, the only researchers I know that have regularly and successfully used two study genetically based nervous system manipulation.”

“Uh, can you repeat that in English?” Liam replied and Killian related to his brother’s sentiment. This was elevated stuff well beyond the experience set of any of the adults here, save for maybe Emma and David who had a veterinary background, and Neal was a teenager. How did he know about this?

“Basically treatment to regrow and stabilize a broken nervous system. Yes, it’s super complicated and obscure, and before you ask, I just spent the summer rooming with a medical prodigy who is headed to Columbia pre-med at 14. You pick up stuff when all your friend talks about is cutting edge science stuff.”

“That’s brilliant, Neal, but what makes you think that this has anything to do with that?”

“Well the dual needle there wasn’t just used for fun, it was necessary to yield any positive results. The doctors were trying to infuse damaged nervous systems with a lining that would revamp nerves and allow for an artificial system reboot. They needed two different solutions to do that, and they needed to mix at the same rate through the body while not being combined outside of the system itself. They said that allowing the chemical interaction to happen inside the body actually improved the lasting effects of the treatment.”

“So that begs the question, how do we get closer to him?”

Granny’s query prompted all of them to look to Anna automatically, but that only prompted Elsa to get defensive.

“No! No way! Absolutely not! You are not going in there.”

“Elsa we need to know,” Anna replied, her tone even, not matching the loudness or the fear of her sister. “And it’s like I keep telling you. He won’t hurt me.”

“Maybe we can just ask him to come closer?” Emma added, clearly not wanting her friend anywhere near that bear without the barrier still between them.

“But what if one of the solutions Neal is talking about isn’t just science?” Ruby replied, her brow furrowed together. “If it’s magical then we need a witch to gauge that and that would be damn near impossible with Elsa and Anna’s enchantment as strong as it is.”

“We’re not doing this,” Elsa said, her anguish clear, but the fight in her starting to fail somewhat.

“What other choice do we have, Elsa? We’re in danger and more than that we’re blind. We need answers. We need them to stay safe, and we need them to heal him. He has to be okay, Elsa. He just has to be.”

The connection Anna felt to this bear was strong already though she’d never even seen his human form. Killian understood that, and though it must feel impossible to accept that Anna might be in any kind of danger, Elsa did too. All she needed to do was think about when it was Liam. When the two of them first met, Liam was still unstable and unwell, perhaps to a different degree, but Elsa stood by him. She was devoted right from the start, and she did everything she could to heal his brother and to stop his pain. Anna wanted to do the same thing, and now Elsa had to support her, fear and all.

You will not hurt her, do you hear me?

The mental push came from Emma and was aimed at the bear, but Killian still heard it. Her eyes were wary, set on the grizzly as her face gave nothing but seriousness away. The bear snorted but gave a sharp nod, unwilling or unable to reply with coherent thoughts, but showing with animal action that he was not in an aggressive place.

“Okay, Anna. You can go in there, but only for a minute. You find out what we need to know and then you get back out here. Are we clear?” Emma asked and Anna nodded. Without any more deliberation she moved to the edge of the crystal enclosure and then she stepped in.

Not knowing how things would go made the moment of Anna’s examination emotionally fraught, but beyond that this was a moment that both Emma’s friend and this unknown shifter must be craving on a cellular level. They were fated mates, destined to be together and yet unable to have more than a brief interaction. They couldn’t even speak to each other, and the fact that this was all happening while he was a bear must make things even more confusing. Yet none of that translated. Instead, Anna approached with cautious determination, stopping just before the bear and pausing only for a moment before she raised her hand to the bear’s face. Her hand made contact and everyone held their breath until the bear made a low, but welcoming growl.

“Hi,” Anna murmured after a moment, her voice raspier than usual. “This isn’t how I thought something like this would happen. I had all these ideas about who you’d be and how we’d meet and this is just… well, different.”

The bear closed its eyes for a moment exhaling what could only be called a grizzly form of a sigh, and then nuzzled more so into Anna’s touch. A sign of agreement and docility that was so alien a concept with a shifter this sick.

“Anna.” Elsa’s calling out to her sister reminded Anna of her mission and she straightened her stance and nodded.

“Right. I have to fix this. I have to help you. And I don’t know if you heard what we were saying but -,”

The bear didn’t even need to hear the rest of her request, instead shifting so Anna could be up close and personal with his neck and the site of the punctures Emma had seen. Anna let out a sound of sadness at seeing where the bear had been injured.

“What do you see?” Neal asked.

“Two puncture marks, just like Emma said. And they’re really big and thick. I can see why you thought someone bit him. He’s started to heal over it but there’s scarring and…” she raised her hand over the wound but trailed off from speaking to them.

“And what?” Ruby asked.

“You were right Ruby, I can feel the magic. Some sort of potion of something. But there’s something else here. Some residue of something else.”

“We need to see that!” Neal said, his desire to figure out this puzzling situation clear as day. “We can test his fur or maybe get some blood work, but it would be better if we had the actual solution itself.”

With just the barest flutter of her fingers Anna used her magic to extract the droplets of whatever liquid coated the bear’s fur. It was entrancing to see, and the little bits of whatever injection was used hung suspended in the air. It was a small amount, but small was better than nothing at all. “I need something to put this in.”

A vile was produced from Mary Margaret’s bag, and no one bothered to ask why she had it. No doubt some sort of ‘always be prepared mentality’ and Emma brought it to the edge of the barrier with Killian right behind her. But while they expected Anna to come right away, she was stalled, wanting, no doubt, to stay close to her mate.

“I know how hard this must be, Anna, but the sooner we figure out what this is the sooner you can heal him.”

“I’m going to fix this,” Anna said, for the bear’s benefit and not for any of theirs. “We’re gonna find out what this is and I swear I will fix it.”

At the mention of her leaving, the bear’s eyes went dark, looking more onyx than any shade of red. It reminded Killian of his father and of Liam and it all clicked. This was some sort of manufactured alpha sickness. It had to be. But just as soon as that darkness came, the bear shook its head and pushed it back again, its irises back to a deep burgundy color. The bear hoisted its body up and then stomped its two front feet to the ground but made no more sounds. It was a dismissal of Anna, and a nonverbal warning that she had to go now before he lost control. Anna seemed to understand and she moved quickly towards the barrier and back outside with all of them. With shaky hands she used her magic to put the droplets in the vial and then sealed it before handing it to Neal.

“You want me to look at it?” Neal asked, his eyes growing wide.

“Yes, Neal, I do. You were right about the injections, and if we didn’t have that we’d pretty much have nothing to go on,” Anna said. “You are brilliant, and you are my brother, in every way that matters. Right?”

“Right,” Neal agreed without hesitation.

“I know it’s asking a lot, and I know you might not be able to handle everything alone, but I just need you to try. Anything you learn is helpful. Anything. I can do the magical stuff, but I don’t know anything about medicine.”

“I’m gonna need help,” Neal said looking to Emma and Emma nodded.

“And you’ve got it. You’ve got me and Dad. I don’t know much about double injections or genome treatments, but I’ll do whatever I can. We’ve got equipment at the clinic. We can run some tests and see what compounds we’re working with and -,”

Killian was about to speak up and say that Emma needed to think about this before making any bold decisions. She’d been through the ringer today, and this testing would no doubt be an involved process. It worried Killian that Emma would continue exerting so much energy when she’d had such a close call earlier, but surprisingly it was Neal who vocalized that worry first.

“That’s exactly what we’re gonna do, Emma. But I think Dad and I have got this for now. You should rest up. You’ve had a way longer day than the rest of us.”

“But I can help too,” Emma reasoned.

“And you will. But maybe tomorrow, all right? This is gonna take a while. We won’t find any answers right away anyway. You know that.”

Killian waited eagerly, hoping that Emma would reach that conclusion on her own as well, and he felt himself relax when she agreed. It was such a relief to know that Emma wouldn’t be over extending herself into the wee hours of the morning. The day was already fading away, with the sun dipping low in the trees, and Killian knew that what his mate needed was food, rest, and time away from the insanity of their world right now.

The others all agreed with Neal’s take, and with a new plan in motion people started to split up, headed for their evenings in different ways. The Nolans headed to the clinic to grab start testing things both at the lab and then back home, while Ruby, Anna, and Elsa agreed that they should try and process the magical concoction that Anna had sensed in the bear and in the collar. Ruby would do so with her family’s archives back at Graham’s, but where Elsa tried to offer a similar scenario for her and Anna, Anna was uninterested.

“I’m not leaving him,” Anna said sternly, looking back to the bear with a fierceness of conviction that had no chance of being swayed. Knowing this instinctively, Elsa let out a small sigh but nodded.

“Okay, so we stay.”

“You two mind?” Liam asked, and Killian smirked at his brother’s question. Even if he did mind it wouldn’t matter much. Liam would just camp out here with his mate and her sister. But there was no need, not when he had somewhere else he and Emma could go.

“Knock yourselves out,” he quipped, gesturing to the doorway. “We’ll just pack a bag and be out of your hair.”

“We’re not staying?” Emma asked, looking surprised, but also a bit relieved if the flash in her eyes was anything to go off of.

“I have a better idea, love. That is, if you trust me.”

“Always,” Emma said, and though he stole a fleeting kiss from her lips, it was but a mere morsel to tide him over until real privacy could be procured.

True to their word, they took only a few minutes to pack what they needed, and then they were off. They could have walked to their destination, or shifted and run over, but with George still on the loose and Gold MIA Killian wanted the opportunity at a faster getaway if need be. The drive was rather short, even with a stop at the town diner to grab some dinner, and the most notable change was that they went from the deep woods where their cabin was further towards the coast just at the edge of town. Eventually the paved Storybrooke road turned to one of pebbles and dirt, and Emma looked both amused and confused at why they would be going this way. Her eyes soon shifted though to mere enjoyment, as she took in the picturesque surroundings of this coastal lane, surrounded by greenery and bushes that held large summer flowers in shades of pinks and blues and whites.

“They’ll be paving this soon,” Killian announced and Emma’s brow furrowed as she looked from their surroundings back towards him once more.

“How do you know that? No one even lives here.”

“Ah, perhaps not yet, but the house has been recently purchased and a move in is likely inevitable.”

“Well the new owners have done a ton of work. This was all overgrown before. Has been since I was a kid. I always loved this house though.” Emma made the comments just before they pulled around the bend, and when she saw the house in question her jaw dropped and her shock was palpable in the car. “Oh my God! Look at that. It’s… well it’s…”

“Do you like it?” Killian asked and Emma nodded immediately though her brow furrowed with confusion.

“I do, it’s gorgeous, but I don’t understand. When you said there was somewhere else we could go I assumed you meant my place above the clinic.”

“We could have gone there, but tell me you wouldn’t have then been tempted to burn the candle all night searching for answers.” Emma couldn’t say that truthfully so she opted not to respond, giving Killian the space to pull her closer as he confessed his intentions. “When we were in the woods before I told you that someday would be here sooner than you think. This house was meant to be your wedding present, but I think, all things considered, we should cherish every moment that we have.”

“I thought you were talking about the baby” Emma whispered, her eyes misting over with happy tears as he stole a kiss from her lips with soft but sure affection. His hand came over her stomach automatically at the mention of their pup and when his lips pulled away from hers, he couldn’t help his genuine smile.

“I was, my love. Our family is on the path to exactly what we’re wanting. But as much as I cherish our cabin in the woods, this,” he waved his arms at the house before them. “This is the home you and our little ones deserve.”

With Emma still stunned into near silence, Killian produced the keys to the house from his pocket, having grabbed them from the cabin discretely enough to escape Emma’s notice. On the keychain there was also a token charm that had caught his fancy while in town. It had a swirling design that looked like the fur of a wolf when examined up close, or the sea in the midst of great uncertainty. In the foreground of the metalwork, there was an anchor, and for whatever reason, he found he liked that symbolism and that it made him think of his mate and the life that they were building together. In every way, Emma was his anchor, an anchor to goodness and love and hope, all things he now could no longer live without and that he wished to carry with him always.

“Killian.”

His name was all that Emma could seem to say in this moment, and her fingertips came to cover her mouth as she shook her head in awe. For a split second he wasn’t totally sure if he had made the right call. Buying one of her favorite houses in town might seem like a great idea, but perhaps Emma wanted to be more involved herself in the process of finding their forever home. There was so much that had to be selected and chosen to bring the house into this century and up to a livable code, while still maintaining the quintessential charm of the coastal Maine mansion. But when Emma’s green eyes welled with happy tears and her cheeks flushed that familiar shade of pink, he knew he’d made no wrong moves. Emma was happy with this, and that was all that he had ever wanted.

“Now I should warn you, love, not everything is finished. I gave them a timeline of the end of the summer, knowing that I wanted it done by our wedding night. But it’s structurally sound, and the upstairs is all furnished. Well at least it’s supposed to be and I -,”

Emma laughed at his sudden feeling of remorse, and then she pulled him in for a kiss so fast that he lost all sense of himself before his worry could actually begin to take hold. All there was in this moment was Emma and her happiness. Out here, away from everyone else, Killian allowed his overprotective need to kick in, and with a quick maneuver, he had Emma backed against the front door, knowing he had boxed her in, but never going so far as to hurt her. If anything, it just turned his mate on, and she arched even closer, taking as much from this kiss as he did, until they finally broke apart.

“You bought us a house,” Emma whispered.

“Aye, love,” he said, cupping her cheek after brushing some of her hair back from her beautiful face. “I bought us a house.”

“How do you always manage this?” She asked, and Killian didn’t know what exactly she meant by ‘this’ but he awaited her assessment whatever it may be. “Every time things go sideways, there you are, making things better. This is perfect, in every way. There’s only one thing I wish was different.”

“What is it love?”

“I wish I was already your wife. I wish we didn’t have to wait anymore.”

Hearing that amplified Killian’s own want for the same exact thing, but despite the fact that they had tonight ‘off’ so to speak, a wedding, a real wedding, worthy of his mate and all her hopes and dreams, just couldn’t be done. As such, he had to improvise.

“Do you, Emma Nolan, choose me, Killian Jones for this day and all your days? In sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, in this life and any more we may be blessed enough to see?”

“I do,” Emma said, with tears glistening in her eyes as she smiled, looking at him with all the love in the world. “And do you, Killian Jones, choose me back? Will you promise to love me, to cherish me, and to honor me in every way I plan to do for you, for this day and for always, no matter what may come?”

“I do,” he replied and Emma let out a soft laugh, a tantalizing sound that caught on the wind before fading away as their lips came together to seal their vows to each other.

They were now, in their hearts, man and wife, mate and mate, and though it might not be ‘official,’ Killian knew in that moment that he and Emma had bound themselves together in a new and enduring way. And so, even though things might not be going exactly according to plan, Killian delighted in the moment when he swung his love up in his arms and whisked into the house of their future and showing her the place that would be the site of their hopefully impending happily ever after.

Post-Note: So there we have it! I know this chapter has taken so long to come about, but with so many elements that I had wanted to incorporate, I knew I needed time to not only write, but to read through what I’ve already written. This whole George and Gold fiasco will soon be coming to a head, BUT please be informed it might not all be in this particular story... For those of you who have been begging me for a story that includes CS but is mostly told from the POVs of others, you will be *eventually * getting your wish. Elaborating more would be spoiling what is yet to come, so I’ll leave it there, but suffice it to say I am really excited for this next cool idea when it does come to pass. aAs always I appreciate you guys reading this, and I hope you all enjoyed and have a wonderful rest of your week!!

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