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queenshelby · 11 months

Text

Pool Party (One Shot)

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warning: SMUT with a lack of plot, huge age gap

Words: 3,656

Notes: In this fic, Ruby is 19 years old. Tommy is in his mid-forties and married to Lizzie which, of course, does not prevent him from having some fun here and there.

It was a sunny afternoon and, just like most weekends these days, you spent the day with your best friend Ruby Shelby.

Unlike you, Ruby was rather wealthy after becoming involved in her father’s company, Shelby Company Limited, and, even though she was working only on the legitimate side of the business, everyone in the Birmingham area knew that Shelby Company Limited had, in the past, been funded through drug money and pay-offs.

In the past, these pay offs and drug deals were facilitated by the Peaky Blinders, a gang involved in organised crime and run by no other than Thomas Shelby, being Ruby’s father himself.

He was a bad man and even though you knew about his criminal past, you somehow felt attracted to him. He was handsome and rather intimidating which was something that, in itself, turned you on quite a lot.

He was the kind of man you knew you could never have and, of course, being attracted to your friend’s father was somewhat taboo and forbidden, making it even more interesting for you.

You knew that you wanted to have him, just that once. You wanted him to take you and make you his and it was this very same Sunday afternoon that you took a shot at this very famous Birmingham gangster when making your way into his office unannounced.

His wife Elizabeth was around and so were most of the maids, which meant that you had to be quiet.

Ruby was busy by the pool with some other friends and you excused yourself, pretending that you needed a rest.

Ten minutes later…

When you walked into Tommy’s office a few minutes after leaving the pool, you were surprised to find it empty. The door had been unlocked but there was no sight of the man you had hoped to see.

He had disappeared and, after taking a quick look at the golden clock sticking out from above the door, you decided to wait.

You waited for ten minutes at least until, suddenly, you were startled by a bang.

The door opened and then shut again loudly, causing you to jump and turn around.

“Mr Shelby” you gasped but he did not appear to be amused.

“Can I help you or have you found what you were looking for?” was what he asked, thinking that you were spying on him or looking for something that could hurt him and his family.

“Uhm, I have actually” you stammered before approaching him slowly but he still seemed to be on guard.

“And what may that be, eh?” he asked before reaching for your wrist, trying to see what you were holding on to.

“You” you responded quickly while opening your hand, revealing the red velvet lipstick you had taken from Ruby’s room and put on for him.

“Me?” your friend’s father then asked while the lipstick dropped to the floor. “And what do you want from me?” Tommy then went on to ask while letting go of your wrist.

“Just you” you stammered again and, even though you were wearing a shiny silk bikini that was clearly gaining his attention by now, you did not feel confident enough to tell him that, ideally, you wanted him to bend you over his desk and fuck you. He was just too intimidating for you to say such a thing.

“You need to be a bit more specific Love” Tommy chuckled, causing you to nod nervously while still avoiding the question.

“What is it that you want me to do for you?” he then asked again, this time more impatiently than before and it was obvious to you that, by this point, he was getting rather frustrated with the lack response you gave him.

“I…uhm…” you thus stammered before, suddenly, blurting it out. “I want you to fuck me, Mr Shelby” you told him while turning rather red in the face and blushing heavily with embarrassment.

“You want me to fuck you?” Tommy asked after his chin had dropped and, whilst you being in his office in a bathing suit should have been an obvious indication for him, the fact that you were his daughter’s friend alleviated that assumption.

“Yes” you confirmed and, just as you did, a thousand thoughts went through Tommy’s mind, most of which were logical reasons as to why he should not be engaging in sex with you. And yet, the more he looked at you in this silken bikini, the more those logical thoughts took a back seat to the desire rising within him.

“How old are you?” he nonetheless ought to clarify and your reaction to his question surprised you.

“Old enough” you told him firmly, causing him to cock an eyebrow.

“Twenty” you then told him, seeing that, again, he was getting a little frustrated while yet, unbeknownst to you, his cock was rock-hard and throbbing, begging for release.

“Twenty, eh?” Tommy smirked before turning around and, just when you thought that he would leave you standing there like a fool, right in the middle of his office, wearing nothing but your bathers, he locked the door.

“What are you doing?” you asked, smiling and Tommy smirked again, this time more sarcastically than before.

“Locking the door” he responded bluntly but with a half-smile on his face.

“Why?” you queried again nervously while Tommy finally approached you.

“Because we don’t want my wife or daughter to walk in on us while we fuck, do we?” Tommy responded before cornered you and traced one of his hands across your cheek.

“No, we do not” you confirmed with a gasp in your voice as his fingers moved back along your cheekbone, and tangled sharply into your hair.

You hissed air through your teeth, as the pain prickled your scalp and your chest lifted toward his body, presenting itself submissively under his grasp.

Tommy then guided you closer towards his desk and his firm grasp on your hair directed you up on to your toes, where he then pulled you even closer, and kissed you firmly. His tongue parted your lips, and took your mouth captive. The mixture of surrender and desire swirling through your body gave the kiss an intoxicating effect, and you had to place your hands against his chest to balance.

His grasp on your hair released, and he stroked the place he had previously held, as your kiss broke free.

“This needs to stay between us Love. Understood?” Tommy then said and you nodded eagerly while Tommy guided his thumb over your chin seductively before taking off his cufflinks and rolling up his sleeves, leaving his arms exposed.

“I understand Mr Shelby. Now tell, what do you want me to do for you? I am yours” you said while watching him and, again, he smirked.

“I want you to get onto your knees. Can you do that for me, Love?” he teased and, of course, you nodded again and complied with his request.

“Yes Mr Shelby” you then confirmed while starring at his manhood pushing firmly against the fabric of his pants.

‘Very good” Tommy cooed. “Now take out my cock and let me watch those velvety lips wrap around it” Tommy then said with a deep growl which was reverberating through your needy body and making your belly flutter hotly. He was so sure of himself and this aroused you even more.

‘It would be my pleasure” you told him as you reached for his crotch with shaking hands before unclasping his belt and undoing the zipper of his black pants nervously.

‘Common Love, we don’t have all day, eh” he then chuckled, seeing how nervous you were and, with that, you finally managed to undo what needed to be undone and pushed down his pants and briefs in one go.

At his height, his cock hovered just above your waiting lips and your eyes traced longingly over the veins coiling down his thick shaft to the neat tuft of dark hair around the base.

Your hand went immediately to Tommy’s length, stroking it gently and, just after a groan escaped his lips, he again gave you the hurry up.

‘Open your mouth Love and show me your tongue’ he said and you nervously complied with his request.

"Yes Mr Shelby" you gasped again, your voice a breathless whine.

“Good, now run it over my cock and then wrap your lips around it” Tommy instructed and you bucked up on your knees, getting into position with your parted lips hovering just above his waiting cock. Your eyes stayed low, fixed on his crotch and, just as you starred into his pelvis, you gently licked his head, tasting the salty precum that had already pooled in his slit.

You then wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, the musky smell of his manhood filling your nostrils and sending heat flooding through your heaving chest.

Tommy groaned as soon as your lips made contact with his throbbing shaft but then you made your first mistake. You reached up with one trembling hand to hold his cock by the base, meaning to steady his shaft as you worked your lips deeper. Your tentative fingers wrapped around him, feeling the delightful stiffness in your submissive grasp, the throbbing heat of him, pulsing with desire for your warm lips and soft tongue.

You then started to lean forward, meaning to take more of his length inside your mouth, but Tommy stopped you.

"No Love. Do it properly, eh. Keep those hands behind your back and just use your mouth" Tommy snapped and your disobedient hand was flying behind you to clasp the other there in the small of your back, clasping your wrists firmly.

“Good. Now open up wide and take my cock into your throat” Tommy instructed before you resumed to use your mouth to hold his cock without using your hands, cradling the head between your soft lips. Craning up, you started to slide yourself down, taking a little more of him each time. His stiff cock pressed down on your waiting tongue, stretching your lips wider as you worked your way deeper.

“You are doing well” Tommy said as your pussy ached with desire at the taste of his skin, the warmth and hardness of him filling your mind and drowning you in the sensation of his manly organ pressed inside your waiting mouth.

"Use your tongue" he then growled and you shivered before curling your tongue up, letting the soft muscle tease around the tip of his cock, just gently brushing over what you know is achingly sensitive skin where the spongy head meets the shaft. Your reward moments later was a low groan of pleasure in Tommy’s deep voice.

“This feels good. Keep going” Tommy told you as his muscled legs tensed on either side of you. Your tongue darted back around, flickering over the small, stretched sliver of skin where his foreskin met the head of his erection. He groaned again, and you could feel the pulsing throb of his shaft against your lips as his cock responded to your attention. Your skin tingled with longing anticipation, knowing you are managing to please him.

"Now take me deeper” Tommy then demanded and, before you had time to think, he took hold of the back of your head and forced you down his cock. You whimpered as he made you lean forward, your stretched lips sliding almost halfway down his length before he allowed you to draw back, then repeating again. The third time, you pressed your lips deeper, taking almost his entire length until you felt the hard tip of his cock pressing painfully against the entrance to your throat. A small discomfort, easily ignored in your need to obey.

“Good girl. Fuck. Keep going” Tommy purred as you held him there for a few moments, feeling a slight ache in your chest as your lungs protested. Then, finally he let go of you and you leaned up again, leaving his pulsing shaft glistening with saliva as your stretched lips glid back along his length until only the head rested against your fluttering tongue.

“You look absolutely delightful like this Sweetheart” Tommy smirked as you snatched a breath through your nose, the scent of him filling the very air you breathe. Then, it began again and he forced you to lean forward and his cock pressed inside your mouth once more.

Quickly enough, you relaxed into the rhythm of what Tommy made you do and you let your body and your need to please take over. The slow count from one to three settled into an easy habit, and you found yourself considering just how you felt right now. But you considered Tommy’s responses too, the way his breath hitched when you licked at that one particular spot near the head of his cock, the tenseness in his legs when you took his shaft deeper that told you just how much he enjoyed every moment.

"I am close” Tommy then murmured, his voice echoing your unspoken thoughts. "Look at me" he ordered and you paused at that, your tongue still delicately resting on the tip of Tommy’s erection.

You complied with his orders and a pair of blue eyes starred back at you, dulled with hooded pleasure as your tongue continued playing over the tip of his cock. You sucked on his shaft and he moaned again, his lips trembling. Your heart soared at the obvious pleasure on his handsome face, knowing that you were the cause of all of it.

"Good Girl. Keep going and make me cum in your mouth” Tommy went on to say while his warm hand landed on your head and he guided your movements once more. With a harsh grip on your hair, he made you lean forward and you almost choked on his shaft as the thick head of his cock slammed into the entrance to your throat. Your tongue moved like a serpent, writhing in your mouth, and sliding across every inch of his skin that you could reach, while your lips wrap around his shaft as you sucked lushly, the wet, sloppy sounds of your eager blowjob filling the room.

Tommy then groaned again and you could feel his cock swell in your mouth and his balls tightening against your chin. His breath caught, and just like that, you felt his hot cum spattering across your throat. His hips jerked back as he orgasmed, some of his bitter sweet seed spraying over your tongue instead, filling your mouth with the taste of his semen. His cock popped free of your lips, the last few pearly drops spattering across your lips and chin. You kneeled there, frozen in place, your eyes still fixed on his face as he gasped and panted for breath. Your own pussy ached and throbbed with needy heat, but the distraction of your own fierce arousal was easily ignored...for now at least.

"Hold it in your mouth” Tommy then said and you held as much of his thick load as you could in your mouth, the taste and smell of his cum filling your senses. "Now look up at me..." he ordered and you complied with his request while your cheeks puffed out to keep as much of the cum inside as you could until he said the unthinkable. "Now swallow it, every drop” he told you and after nodding reluctantly, your throat tensed as you gulp down the load, the slick cum sliding easily down into your waiting belly. The taste of it still lingered on your tongue, and you could feel the heat of it.

“Was this to your satisfaction Mr Shelby?” you then asked with a needy look on your face.

“It was” Tommy confirmed before pulling you to your feet.

“You did well Love” he then said before pressing his lips on to yours in a haste, seemingly unbothered by the fact that he had just cum in your mouth and, just as you were expected you gave into the kiss.

Just as Tommy was kissing you, his hand came in between your thighs and he ran his fingers through your wetness.

“You are so fucking wet for me, eh” Tommy said with great satisfaction after he pulled his mouth away from your lips and placed his fingers onto them, making you taste your own wetness.

“Of course I am Mr Shelby” you told him and, again Tommy smirked.

“Good” he told you before giving you some further instructions. “Now come over here and lean over my desk. I want to fuck you from behind and, when I do, I expect you not to make a sound. Is that understood?” Tommy then said and, of course, you nodded once more and complied with his request.

You leaned across his large cedar desk and looked back at him expectantly and, just as you did, he pushed down your bikini bottoms to reveal your naked ass and pussy.

“Your pussy looks rather inviting Love. So wet and tight” Tommy said just as you saw that his cock was hard and ready again but, when he walked behind you and aligned himself with your wetness, you began to tremble.

“Has anyone ever fucked you like this? From behind over a fucking desk?” he then asked and you shook your head.

“No Mr Shelby” you confirmed and a smile formed across his face.

“Well, Love, this may be a little uncomfortable at first then, but you will learn to enjoy it” Tommy then told you as his hands began roaming over your back and ass, squeezing at your flesh.

You moaned, especially when his hands came around to your front and began squeezing your breasts which you lifted off the desk just as his hands demanded. Looking down you could see his hands kneading the tender mounds, playing with your nipples.

Then, without any warning whatsoever, Tommy pressed into you from behind, his cock rubbing along the length of your wet pussy, making you yearn for him to turn you over and spread your thighs open for him.

But this was not what he had planned and, instead, Tommy pulled one of his hands away from your breasts in order to line himself up with your pussy, and he began to push into you from behind. You gasped with this novel sensation as Tommy’s cock rubbed the insides of your pussy in a completely new way. He pushed into you all the way in one stroke until his groin met up with your ass cheeks and you could feel your flesh pressing against his body. The sensation made you moan and wiggle as you luxuriated in this new self-indulgence.

Then he pulled out and slammed in again, taking your breath away and rocking your body.

“Oh god” you moaned as you felt him all the way in your stomach. It was painful but also incredibly erotic.

Tommy’s hands moved around and started kneading your breasts again, making you moan as you pushed back against him.

With every thrust, you could feel your elbows buckling a little, and your wrists were starting to hurt as you grasped the cedar and you did not like how that distracted you from the pleasure you were feeling. With that, you lowered yourself to your elbows, which had the pleasant effect of lifting your ass into a better position.

Liking your new position, Tommy slid back and put his hands on your hips so that he could admire the way his cock looked split open your pink pussy. He liked seeing you like this, taking him from behind and you moaned over and over again as you were impaled by his powerful thrusts.

Wetting his finger in his mouth, Tommy then pushed it against your yet still unexplored opening and was pleased to see that your body easily opened up and accepted it.

You were shocked and confused by what he was doing and, yet, your groans of pleasure got louder as he added a second finger.

“Oh god I feel so full” you moaned as you gave into the pleasure without thinking about how wrong it was and, after a little while, Tommy pulled his fingers from that tempting hole and used both his hands on your hips to pump you from behind even more powerfully, glorying in your cries of pleasure as he claimed you as his.

Soon, Tommy’s thrusts were coming harder and faster, and even though you were more stable on your elbows, you could feel him pushing you forward.

Reaching underneath your body, Tommy sought out your clit with his fingers, and you let out a cry of rapture as he began rubbing the engorged nub of pleasure. Your legs and arms trembled with the effort of holding yourself up as ecstasy threatened to overcome your senses, and Tommy continued to pound at you from the rear. As his fingers continued to rub, you could feel the heady tingling rush of your orgasm overtaking you, and you collapsed before him... he followed you down, his cock thrusting hard into your pussy and impaling you as you almost collapsed on the desk before him.

You could feel him growing bigger inside of you as you writhed with elated gratification, and your orgasm grew as, finally, you felt a strange but extremely pleasant sensation inside of you as Tommy was filling you with his seed.

It felt sensational and, whilst you were incredibly sore, you enjoyed the feeling of him inside of you like this and, after you finally came down from your high, you felt like your body was made of jelly. You felt so drained and shaky and then you moaned a little as Tommy’s lips and tongue pressed against your back, making your body jerk.

‘You did well Sweetheart. I quite enjoyed that’ he cooed before pulling his softening cock out of you and guiding you onto your feet, allowing you to turn around and catch your breath.

‘Oh god so did I” you barely managed to say and, just as you spoke, Tommy kissed you once more.

‘I have work to do now, but we should do this again sometime soon” he announced and you knew that this wasn’t going to be just a one-off encounter.

“I would like that Mr Shelby” you thus confirmed before retrieving your panties from the floor and putting them back on just before his cum could drip out of your well used hole.

“Good. Now clean yourself before you go back into the pool, eh” he smirked and you gave him a quick wink before you disappeared into the hallway.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

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1K notes · View notes

theres-a-body-here · 3 months

Note

If you’re taking requests, then may I please request a sequel to your Gang Orca x Male Reader? One where they just got back from a heated missions and when they get back to their shared place. Reader is quick to take a shower, but Kugo? Well let’s just say the, muscular, orca is finally ready to to pick up where they left off with reader. Shower sex.

I changed the setting. Hope you don't mind.

Gang Orca x Male!reader

sequel to this Scumtober post

After a long day of patrol alongside Kugo, you both retreated to his agency's locker room. Exhaustion tugged at your limbs as you collapsed onto one of the nearby benches, chest heaving from the exhilaration of the chase earlier that day.

Meanwhile, Kugo strolled casually toward his own locker, opening it with practiced ease.

"How are you not tired?" you asked, wiping sweat off your brow before reaching down to retrieve a water bottle from your nearby duffle bag.

"Probably because I'm used to it by now," Kugo admitted as he rummaged through his locker.

You rose to your feet and ambled over to your locker, effortlessly spinning its dial to unlock it. Grabbing a towel, you then proceeded to strip down, preparing yourself for a shower. Occasionally, you cast glances at Kugo from the corner of your eye.

Your gaze lingered on Kugo as he mirrored your actions, peeling away layers of clothing until he stood there in only his boxers. Memories of last month flooded back—the two of you at the community pool center—and you couldn't help but shiver at the thought.

Once he started to remove his boxers, you tore your gaze away from him and you forced yourself to refocus on the task at hand; stripping down to nothing before finally gathering the courage to glance back at Kugo.

You didn't realize he had already approached silently behind you, resting a heavy hand on your shoulder.

His eyes trailed from your figure over to the showers, a clear invitation written across his features.

"Oh, uh…" you mumbled before locating your shower toiletries within your duffle bag. When you glanced back up, Kugo had already begun walking towards one of the empty stalls, prompting you to trail after him. Entering the same stall, you closed the curtain behind you.

As you busied yourself organizing your toiletries within the shower caddy, Kugo wasted no time turning on the faucet, causing warm water to splatter against your bare feet.

Suddenly, you felt his presence pressing firmly against your back, nuzzling his face affectionately into your neck. Startled, you barely managed to maintain grip on your body wash, nearly dropping it altogether in surprise.

"Boss…" you squeaked out shyly, unable to hide your embarrassment from the knowledgeable towering figure looming behind you.

He chose to ignore your initial protest, whispering huskily in your ear, "Have you been using the gift I gave you?"

A sudden flush of crimson crept across your cheeks as your mind flashes back to a particular event last week.

~~~

Your hands trembled as you held the unwrapped box close, peeking inside. Your face was flushed and you looked around to make sure no one else was watching you. You wondered if this was some sort of joke, searching your mind to think of anyone at the agency who had it out to embarrass you.

Inside the velvet-lined box lay a dildo of considerate girth, made of sleek black silicone, carefully crafted with intricate detail meant to mimic the real thing - complete with veins running along its length. On the bottom of the box was a paper card which has scribbled a simple note , 'From Kugo'.

~~~

Unable to speak, you just nod.

Kugo hummed in response before spinning you around forcefully to face him directly. With deliberate slowness, he allowed his hands to trace upwards from your hips along your torso until they rested just below your armpits.

"Have you been thinking of me while you use it?" He questioned softly, tracing a clawed finger over the faded scar on your side. It seemed almost as though he wanted to commit the memory of every line and curve of your body to memory forever.

You smiled up at him, growing gradually more comfortable as your initial shyness fades. "Who else would I think of?" You teased playfully, tilting your chin upwards defiantly.

Chuckling at your remark, Kugo leaned down to rest his chin on your head before replying in kind in his usual gruff tone, "Well, knowing you, probably some animated guy from whatever anime series you're currently obsessed with."

You pouted, looking adorably annoyed as you raised a hand to deliver a light smack against his broad chest. In response, Kugo chuckled lightly again before wrapping an arm around your waist and guiding you both underneath the steady flow of hot water pouring down from the showerhead above.

As you reached for the shampoo bottle, he intervened, stopping your hand midair. You stared up at him questioningly.

"If you do that now," he explained matter-of-factly, "you're just going to have to do it again later."

Confusion clouded your expression further until his free hand drifted lower, settling firmly on your ass, giving it a playful squeeze as if to emphasize his point further.

"What if someone catches us, boss?" You questioned nervously, expecting to hear the sounds of someone entering the locker room at any second.

The Orca man merely shrugged nonchalantly, giving your bottom another squeeze for good measure. "Then we'll just have to make sure no one catches us, won't we?" He grumbled, looking down at you before leaning in closer, his mouth brushing against your cheek as he spoke huskily, "But personally, I hope they do."

"Boss! Stop!" You half-heartedly scolded, unable to hide the amusement lacing your tone. Still, despite your protests, you made no attempts to escape his grasp. If anything, your body seemed to relax further into his hold instead.

He shifted his position slightly so that his face hovered in front of your face, pressing his mouth firmly against yours. He parted his mouth open just enough to expose his tongue, inviting you to "kiss" him. Having been with Kugo for a while, you two have found ways to work around his Orca biolology.

His tongue snaked its way past your teeth as you obliged him, wrapping your lips tightly around the tip and sucking gently at first. You then took more of it, hungrily sucking on his long, tapering tongue, moaning around it as you enjoyed the taste of his saliva mixed with your own

The sound coming from deep within his throat resembled more of a growl than actual speech as he responded by pulling you impossibly closer still, pressing his throbbing length against yours. You continue to busy yourself with bobbing on his tongue.

His hands trailed slowly from your waistline upwards until they gripped your hips firmly, holding onto them tightly as he lifted you effortlessly off the ground. The position forced your hardened cock to press flush against his muscular abdomen while the underside of his shaft slid between your smooth ass cheeks.

With your legs wrapped securely around his waist, your hands pressed flat against his upper arms for balance, you couldn't help but whimper as he began moving you back and forth against his rock-hard shaft, breaking the kiss to look at him. Each slide forward caused the head of his cock to drag across your balls.

Your soft cries were muffled by the spray of water droplets cascading down from overhead as he manhandled your body with ease. One of his hands remained clamped firmly on each of your ass cheeks, kneading them roughly as his fingers dug painfully into your supple flesh.

Kugo used one hand to spread your ass apart just enough to expose your tight entrance. Without waiting for your consent—not that you would have denied him anyway—he pressed the tapered tip of his orca cock against it, applying pressure steadily until it slid passed the tight ring of muscle.

The feeling was unlike anything you had ever experienced before; the girth alone was nearly unbearable. But somehow, despite the burning sensation radiating throughout your pelvis, you found yourself wanting more.

A low groan escaped your lips as you involuntarily pushed downwards, taking more of him into yourself.

Before long, you found yourself completely impaled on his enormous length, gasping audibly as he stretched you wide open around him.

"Goddamn, you're still so fucking tight," Kugo growled, flexing his hips in short thrusts, pushing himself deeper inside of you with each motion. Your inner walls clung desperately to him, attempting to adjust to the massive intrusion.

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, whimpering softly as he began thrusting upwards into you, forcing himself deeper inside of you with each stroke. "Fuck…boss…" you moaned helplessly, digging your nails into his shoulders

The warm water cascaded down both of your bodies as he mercilessly pounded his hips upward into yours, causing you to bounce lightly in response. Moans and whimpers slip out from your lips, escaping despite your best efforts to suppress them.

After a few moments, Kugo finally stopped moving altogether. Withdrawing himself slowly from your depths, he carefully set you back down on your feet before turning you around to face away from him.

Pinning you against the cool tiles lining the interior of the shower stall, he aligned his hips with yours and slid himself back inside of you. Water poured over both of your bodies as he resumed fucking you relentlessly, pinning you firmly against the tiled surface.

"Fuck…oh god…faster…" You pleaded breathlessly, spreading your legs wider in order to accommodate him better.

He complied eagerly, sliding a hand down overtop of yours and urging them higher above your head against the wall. Pressing his chest flush against your back, he adjusted his angle slightly and drove himself deeper inside of you than before.

His pace quickened significantly as he listened to you beg for more, using your body as his personal fucktoy. "

Yeah? Like this?" He asked gruffly, grinding his hips in slow circles while fully sheathed inside of you.

"Or maybe this?" He questioned again, pulling almost all the way out before slamming himself back inside, eliciting a loud cry from your lips.

Incoherent whimpers and moans spilled from your lips as he reduced you to little more than a babbling mess incapable of forming coherent thoughts anymore.

"Did I break you?" He murmured teasingly in your ear, continuing to hammer away at your prostate mercilessly.

A few more powerful thrusts sent him tumbling over the edge.

Groaning loudly, he slammed into you one final time before emptying himself deep inside of you, filling you up with his cum. Warmth flooded your insides as he finished depositing every last drop of semen into your depths.

Carefully withdrawing from your used entrance, Kugo steadied you beneath the pouring water as he wrapped his arms securely around your waist.

"Mhm, good boy," He praised softly, rubbing small circles onto your stomach as he held you there against him. "You did so well for me."

The two of you stood quietly beneath the still running showerhead, enjoying the sensation of the warm water cascading down your intertwined bodies. Contentment washed over you as you leaned further back into Kugo's solid chest, reveling in the tight, comforting hold he had on you

#aquaphilia #gang orca #kugo sakamata #male reader #male!reader #boku no hero acedamia x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero acedamia x reader #my hero academia #gang orca x reader #kugo sakamata x reader #size difference #dumbification #mha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha

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mr-inkslinger · 21 hours

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Arthur gripped your hips, he suggested this position, not really suggested. He mostly had lifted you off him the second you had clenched around him, he took advantage of your orgasm to reposition you. His hand held your hips, keeping you up. He gave the curve of you ass an affectionate pat. "You're alright.." His voice was soft, the roughness of it soothing your nerves as your thighs trembled. "Arthur.. please." You weren't even sure if you wanted a break or more, the please seemed to go either way. "You okay?" He mumbled, that rough hand that was always gentle with you smoothed up your spine to the nape of your neck as he leaned over to kiss your shoulder. You panted as you nodded, soft hairs stuck to your forehead. "Want more?" It took you a second to process what he was asking and before you even processed what you were doing, there was a faint nod. He smiled against your skin, "Atta girl.." Arthur had never ending praise for you. For even the simplest of things. A good job for eating dinner or waking up in the morning. Any act of living earned praised, you were his world. His girl. His everything. During these tumultuous times, he found solace in the tiny hotel room he was able to steal you away in. He was able to pretend it was all different. Maybe you two had a home or at least the gang wasn't falling apart.. he snapped out of it as he leaned back, bringing your hips up again.

He eased into you, a breathless gasp followed by a higher pitch moan left your throat. He kept your back arched with one big hand pressed between your shoulders as his other gripped your hip. His blunt nails biting at your skin, leaving little crescents. He wasn't being particularly gentle but nonetheless paused to catch his breath. Your velvet walls were clenching around him, almost painfully tight and too hot. He let out a throaty groan, it came from up in his chest. Almost a breathless noise. Arthur threw his head back, his fingers drumming on your back lightly. He huffed, pulling his hips back, he could feel how you suctioned around him, so he didn't pull out completely. He didn't was to lose that. He snapped his hips, grinning at your breath hitching, nice and loud. You had abused your pussy riding him, until she was puffy and soaked. He offered occasional help, but he mostly thrusted upwards to surprise you when he felt you getting close. He liked watching you do all the work, so it was time to return the favor. Each time he pulled out and rolled his hips forward, they got faster and stronger. He leaned over you, slowly pressing his chest to your back. It was strong and warm, damp with sweat and his hair soft. His hand flew to the headboard, caging you between one arm next to your head and his firm bicep. Built like a piece of sinewy lumber, strong and unmoving, he had you trapped. The noises coming from your dripping cunt were filthy. How could you be soaked for him? A tough, gritty man. A killer. An outlaw. A bad, bad, bad-

"Arthur..!" The way you squeaked his name caught his attention, he could feel your walls around him, shit, your poor pussy never caught a break. He could feel you clenching and writhing and your nails dug into his thick wrist. But he didn't let up, even when you were pushed forward by the sheer force of his thrusts. "Don't- run from me." He gritted out, teeth clenched, his head pressed to the back of yours. His arm shifted, his forearm pressed to the front of your shoulder, keeping you from jolting forward. You were ruining the sheets, his thighs were sticky and slick with you, his dick coated in your cream, his hairs frothy. He wasn't even attempting to quiet himself now. "God.. damn it." Your legs gave out without his hand holding you up, you pressed flat on your stomach, feeling the sheets sticking to your wet skin, beads of sweat sliding down the column of your neck.

"Look'atchu.. You're a good girl.." His praises deep and guttural, he pressed you further into the mattress. Your moans had progressed into soft screams, your face half hidden in your pillow, hair messed. His hand that wasn't white knuckling the headboard slid between the mattress and you, finding your clit. Poor thing was twitching at just the slightest touch from him. "There ya go.. Takin' me and lookin' so pretty.." His lips pressed to the crown of your skull, your hair tickling his nose. With just a few soft circle from his finger, he ripped another orgasm out of you, you soaked his cock while he pounded you into the mattress. You were a sobbing mess, choking on your words. A mix of please, Arthur, I can't do it and don't stop, harder, deeper. He liked fucking the brains right out if your pretty head. Feeling your cunt drenched him and constrict around him so perfectly, like your pussy was made to take his thick cock and keeping it nice and tight and warm, seated so deep within you, made his stomach taught. His own legs trembled at the way his release hit him like a damn freight train.

"Fuck-" he had no words, nothing to describe how it felt, rutting his seed deeper in you with his dick twitching. He collapsed, mind empty, body numb, nearly crushing you and keeping the wind knocked from your lungs. Your hand patted his head. "Good job.. I can't breathe." Arthur's laugh was soft, his eyes closed. "Sorry, sweetheart."

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan imagines #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan/reader #arthur morgan smut #c: arthur morgan

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whatthefoucault · 2 years

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Ok no but hear me out, because what if, before Stede and the gang make it back to Ed and them on the ship to get the band back together, Ed finds out that in the intervening, like, couple of days, Stede “died” in the most absurdly dramatic way possible, and just sort of finds his way on sadness-autopilot to the Bonnet home, looking for, what, closure? Just to be where this man he loved so much came from and maybe, in some disjointed and incomplete way feel near him again, despite everything? And Mary’s there, clutching a sharp object behind her back and she’s like oh no a vaguely threatening crime man what are you doing here wait why are you crying and Ed’s like, I was... a friend of Stede’s, I think, and Mary’s stance softens, and she lets him in and makes a cup of tea.

And she explains as po-faced as one can “exactly” what happened, and they sit there awkwardly in the Bonnet front room, not having much to say to each other, and Ed takes in their surroundings, unchanged enough presumably from when Stede lived there to be both a visceral reminder of all of the wonderful things he was, and also a fierce indicator of why he chose to leave.

“Nice house,” he tells her, trying to remember the rules of small talk. “Did you... paint that?”

He points at a large canvas that now hangs over the sideboard of what looks to be a very detailed close-up of some flowers.

“I did, actually,” she says. “A couple of weeks ago. It’s - ”

“A lily,” Ed suggests.

“A vagina,” Mary says, at the same time.

and Ed nods, unsure how to follow on from that. Mary gives him an apologetic smile.

“So I guess you two were close friends?”

“I think so,” Ed tells her cautiously, not about to bare his entire soul and the deep, devastating love he holds for Stede to the man’s widow, for fuck’s sake.

“Well, he’s in a better place now,” Mary assures him. “He’s free.”

And with that, the tears are back, and despite himself Ed’s shaking and ugly-sobbing, and Mary begins to reach a hand out to give him a pat on the shoulder, but thinks better of it and just offers him a hankie instead.

And Ed’s emotions are catching up with his brain, but now his thoughts are too fast and too all at once to word them properly, but he’s trying anyway despite himself. “We were - I was going to - and then he, I thought, but - but then - ” he manages between sobs.

And Mary is given pause. Wait a minute, she thinks, as it slowly dawns on her. Why would it mean this much to this guy, unless

“Sorry, what did you say your name was?”

“Uhh, it’s Ed?”

And she lights up. He isn’t exactly who she would have expected, all goth and intimidating and stuff, but she also doesn’t know what she did expect. But on the other hand, if this is Stede’s Ed, then

“You’re Ed? Shit, what are you doing here? Stede’s going to be looking for you.”

Which makes no sense to Ed now, because “But Stede’s - you mean he’s a ghost?”

And she leans in with a conspiratorial smile. “Okay look, I obviously couldn’t tell just any old friend, but you’re Ed. It was, what did he call it? A fuckery?”

And Ed understands, he thinks, hopeful. “You mean... he’s...”

And Mary laughs. “No, he’s fine,” she tells him. “Staged the whole thing. It was brilliant! He’s gonna be out there looking for you right now.”

And Ed’s whole body melts with relief, pooling in the deep cushions of the velvet settee. There are too many emotions rattling through his body at once. edwardteach.exe has stopped working

“He's? Wait, how do you - no, doesn’t matter. No, yes it does. You've heard of me?”

And Mary’s like, “I know my ex-husband loves you very much.”

And Ed’s like

But wait, she’s cool with him just fucking off with another fellow, he thinks? And she explains that their marriage sucked and she’s fucking thriving and she’s genuinely happy he’s happy.

And after a few more biscuits, now that the mood has lightened considerably, she sends Ed on his merry way to go smooch her ex-husband probably. They’ve still got some shit to talk through together, and he’s going to hug that stupid brilliant man SO HARD and he’s still not sure what his emotions are doing, and he doesn’t know where he’s going, but he’s, like, so gay for Stede right now oh my god that absolute fucking human treasure ughhhhhhhhhh FEELINGS

And Doug comes in a few minutes later looking Terribly Concerned, as Mary’s brushing biscuit crumbs off the coffee table, and he’s like “Mary, are you ok? I saw a vaguely threatening man leave just now. He looked just like Blackbeard???”

And Mary’s like he

WHAT

#ofmd #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #edward teach #mary bonnet #our flag means death #doug is there also #this is terrible but it wouldn't leave my head until i wrote it down #sorry

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bettyfrommars · 11 months

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I'm on Fire//older!biker!Eddie Munson x artist!fem!Reader//90's au//Part 8

🚨18+Only, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, angst, biker!Eddie, biker!Steve, sexual innuendos, alcohol consumption, mention of financial troubles, falling in love, heartache, talk of commitment, talk of monogamy, casual sex, implied cheating, sex with someone other than reader, betrayal, having a stalker, biker gang, swearing, exotic dancers, reader wears dress and heels, reader wears red lipstick. Word count: 9.5k

Summary: In part 8, you start your new job as a cocktail server at the Velvet Hammer, and a few new characters are introduced. You and Eddie are officially falling for each other, while Eddie recalls a relationship from his past that left him shattered. A jealous ex-lover continues to try and rip the two of you apart, and this time, she might have succeeded. 90's playlist here

Series Masterlist

A/N: I'm not sure if it's that time of the month or what, but I cried twice while writing this🙃and not during the parts you might think. Rest assured that biker!Eddie and Reader are endgame. I love being in this world with y'all, and I always look forward to hearing from you! xoxox

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I'm on Fire//Part 8: From Here to Eternity

Day 3 of not hearing from Eddie, and you found yourself staring off into space, trying to calculate what could have possibly gone wrong. The idea that this was the kind of man that he was, that he would just ghost you without a word made your stomach sick. You thought you had developed better radar than that. You’d been listening to way too much Fiona Apple over the past 12 hours, but nevertheless---it was Thursday and you had to get ready for your first shift at your new job.

Shana, the hiring manager at the Velvet Hammer, let you know the dress code and a few ideas for what you should wear. It had to be skimpy and sexy and classy all at once, and at first you worried you might need to go shopping, but then Katie pulled this black latex halter top dress with a zipper down the front out of nowhere, and it didn’t fit her, so she assumed it belonged to her ex. Sure, it was not your signature style, but it gave you a certain Femme Fatale air of confidence that you hadn’t possessed before you put it on. Some of the servers got all decked out in creative makeup and wigs, but you decided to tackle your first day with caution.

You went over and checked the message machine in the living room again on your way out, just in case a call came through in the past 20 minutes that you miraculously did not hear, but the digital red number blinked a big, fat “0”.

Training at the Velvet Hammer was only about an hour long, and you met Jackie, the cocktail server you would be shadowing that night. She raised her eyebrow and gave you a bored look as she chewed her gum, hooking one of her long fingernails into the zipper of your latex dress to pull it down, exposing more of your skin. “That’s better,” she gave an extended wink. “We need those good tips tonight.”

-------

Meanwhile, Eddie spent the morning introducing the new office assistant around that he hired from a temp service, but then he had to leave to run a tow while Wayne showed her the ropes. The old man hated the suggestion that he needed help, but Eddie basically told him he had no choice. From Here to Eternity by Iron Maiden came on while he was en route back to the garage and his chest clenched, because for some reason, it made him think about you.

He never stopped thinking about you, really. But, if he kept busy with work, and drowned out the voices in his head with loud music and distractions, he could push aside the knowledge that he was already falling for you, and simultaneously come to terms with the fact that he was no good for you, and that you would be better off without him. The nights were the worst. He was back to getting only 3 or 4 hours of sleep, feeling like he had been spoiled on those occasions over the phone when he was lulled to dreamland by the sound of your sweet voice.

He knew in his gut that he was doing the wrong thing by not saying anything to you, but his denial was overshadowing his logic.

The suspension on the tow truck, or lack thereof, made him bounce as he came up onto the sidewalk lip to the driveway of the garage, and it somehow jarred his memory to the fact that your first day at the Velvet Hammer was tonight. He almost barreled right into the back of a car pulling out from one of the parking spots and had to slam on his breaks; he was becoming a hazard to everyone’s health, especially his own.

He needed to get his head on straight.

Fuck it, he needed to see you again.

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You were bummed to find out that Steve was tattooing at the shop, and not working the door that night, but the bouncer replacing him was also a biker who went by the nickname Thumper. He was stocky with big arms, a bald head, and a beard down to his chest. He called you darlin’ when he introduced himself to you.

“I’ll keep my eye on you girls,” Thumper reminded you and Jackie. “But be sure to come and get me if anyone give you any trouble.”

Tall, curvaceous Jackie rested her elbow on Thumper’s shoulder and leaned against him. “Thumper here tossed a guy out in the street for staring at me for too long once. He doesn’t play.”

“Ogling,” Thumper corrected. “The dude was ogling you, and if they’re gonna sit and get a free show to jerk off to later, they better be leaving decent tips for you ladies.”

Outside, there came the unmistakable growl of a gang of choppers coming up the street, and you excused yourself from the conversation to peek around the doorway. A group of Coffin Kings slowed down in front of the Velvet Hammer to acknowledge Thumper with a lift of their chins before speeding along to their destination, but none of them were Eddie.

The DJ played Thunder Kiss ‘65 by White Zombie an hour or so later as a purple and orange sunset blossomed over the mountains and the place started to fill up. A beautiful girl with a baby pink bob of hair got up on one of the stages with a pole and stated to work her magic while you carried a tray of drinks over to a table of four. The Velvet Hammer dancers never went completely topless, but they did strip down to tiny bikini sets that were plenty revealing, and their dance moves were seductively choreographed. The one with the pink bob had on finger-less, fishnet gloves, and a big tattoo on her thigh that you couldn’t quite make out.

You walked away as soon as you set the drinks down for the table, and Jackie snatched your arm.

“Where do you think you’re going?” She asked with a forced smile, talking without moving her lips.

You were genuinely confused, wondering if you somehow messed up on the drink order. “Um, nowhere, just--” you figured you’d get busy filling napkins and straws or something while you waited for more customers to come in.

Jackie pulled you to the side, bending close to your ear so that she wouldn’t have to shout over the music. “Part of the job is to socialize with the customers, honey, make them feel relaxed. Flirt with them, laugh at their jokes even when they are lame as hell,” she checked over her shoulder and smiled at the men at the table in question. “The more they think you’re actually interested, the bigger the tip, usually.”

You were nodding, taking the information in, wanting to do your job correctly. You’d been working in customer service in one way or another since you were a teenager, but, damn, you were horrible at faking interested or forcing conversation with guys you didn’t want to talk to. You hoped it was a skill that you could pick up from Jackie, because she was a magician at it.

You followed her back to the table so that she could introduce you to the group. It was four men, all in business suits, loosening their ties as they greeted you. They were a little older, ages ranging from 35 to 50, and the one who looked like he might be the oldest with a thick head of salt n’ pepper hair made eye contact with you and said he recognized you from somewhere.

God, the last thing you wanted was for a patron to recognize you from the gallery, that would be the worst.

“Probably from here?” You said with a lilt in your voice, trying to mask your bluff, hoping Jackie wouldn’t blurt out that it was your first day.

“No, I don’t think so,” he squinted, sitting back in his chair as he palmed his drink. “I’ve never been here before, so it couldn’t be that. But, I’m really good with faces, especially when one is as beautiful as yours.”

The forward compliment made you uncomfortable and you tucked your chin. He was a handsome older man, you couldn’t deny that. His eyes were such an intense blue, they were almost white, and you could tell from the way his shoulders fit in this suit jacket that he was in good shape and took care of himself. His friends were looking you up and down, and you could almost hear their internal lewd thoughts, but the older man—his name was John—kept polite eye contact with you as you talked. The watch he had on alone was worth at least a couple grand, and they all smelled like they were made of money.

But, none of them were Eddie, and so your banter felt particularly forced.

Thankfully, another group of customers came in and you excused yourself to follow Jackie over to the next table, wobbling for a moment in your heels before recovering quickly by bracing your hand on the back of a chair.

Later, just as John was leaving, a guy celebrating his 21st birthday had one too many tequila shots and tried to climb onto the stage, but his migration was interrupted by Thumper, who charged over to clam a big, meaty hand on his shoulder and remind him of the rules in a way that made the guys face go pale as he plopped back down into his seat.

You were standing at the bar with your back to John, but he came up behind you and touched your elbow. When you turned around to meet his gaze, he pressed some cash into your palm and said, “this is for you,” with a dimple and a wink, before heading out.

The rest of the group collectively left just as much of a tip on the table for Jackie. “A c-note tip on your first day?” She said with a shake of her head and a snort. “Sorry, but I kinda hate you right now.”

“Who was that John guy?” You whispered across the table to her as the two of you bussed the empty glasses.

“I have no idea,” Jackie shrugged. “His friends come in once in a while, but I’ve never seen that sexy DILF before. He had on a wedding ring, but most of the dudes who come in here do. It never keeps them from making a play.”

As the night progressed, there were eventually two girls dancing, one on each stage at opposite ends of the room. Jackie took her 15 minute break to go out into the alley for a smoke while you kept an eye on your tables. The dancers started a routine to Symphony of Destruction by Megadeth, and just when you had managed to get in a decent five minutes without Eddie on the brain, that song brought it all crashing back. You were at the far end of the bar, and when you glanced up to see who was coming in the front door---there he stood in the flesh, as if on cue: Edward Munson.

You blinked a few times, certain that your eyes were playing tricks on you and it was just someone who merely resembled Eddie, like a mirage appearing in the desert after you hadn’t had a sip of water in days. His muscular frame took up space in the doorway, wearing his black leather jacket, and his hair tied back to expose the two small silver hoops in his ear. He finished shaking Thumper’s hand, and then his eyes found yours, and the hint of a smile quivered on his lips. His gaze shifted around the room, taking in everyone in your vicinity, before they returned to you and hovered there.

A giddy breath hitched in your chest as you mirrored his reflexive grin, wholly unable to mask how happy you were to see him. But then, you remembered that this gorgeous dickhead is the one who selfishly left you in the wind for the past 3 days, and with a dramatic flourish of the tray in your hand, you spun on your heel to head in the other direction to check on some patrons near the stage.

---------

Eddie sat on his chopper with his boots planted wide on the pavement while he smoked a cigarette and stared at the red neon above the door to the Velvet Hammer. The decision to stay away had been to keep you out of Charlene’s cross hairs; to keep you from taking the brunt of this dark, underbelly of a life he had established for himself. As it turns out, staying away from you was too much torture for his raggedy old heart to bear, and that was saying a lot, considering the amount of shit he’d gone through in his life.

He indulged in long drags, sucking in his cheeks, watching people come and go out of the bar, wondering how you would react to him just popping in after days of silence. You knew he didn’t like talking on the phone, and besides---he needed to see your face. There was so much emotion a blind phone conversation could never capture; a lowering of the eyes or a worried brow. He needed to smell you, touch you, and taste your lips; he craved it in the deep corners of his cobwebbed soul.

If there was one thing about Eddie, he was patient when it came to matters of the heart. Matters of his dick were a different story, clearly, but when it came to those rare times in his life when he saw someone as a potential partner, he couldn't just dive in with reckless abandon; he wasn’t Steve. When Eddie loved someone, he handed over his entire heart: all of his loyalty, all of his trust, everything he owned---and that kind of vulnerability was not something he’d been open to feeling for what felt like an eternity.

There had been a woman who was very special to him once, years before you, and it ended with Eddie being hauled off to jail for beating the guy she was cheating on him with to a pulp. He bought a house and moved her in with him; he had a whole lifetime together with her planned in his head. But, there had been clear signs that it was never going to work, including the tiny detail that she never really loved him. Sure, she loved his image, the fact that he was in a band, the way he protected her, but he never felt like he could really be himself around her. He always felt tense and worried, like everything he did would never be enough.

He’d asked himself a million times since then what made him fall in love with her, and the most obvious answer what that he didn’t really know how love was supposed to feel at the time. His whole life, it felt like people were always leaving him, like he was always begging to be noticed and loved, and so her often cold disregard of him felt like familiar territory. Then, one day he comes home early from an overnight run with the Kings to find her taking it doggy style in their bed from this guitarist that Eddie had always considered a friend.

For months, she begged to come back, for him to forgive her, but once Eddie shuts a door, it locks forever. He knew he could never trust her again, which was the most important thing to him, and the pain of that betrayal still lingered like a permanent scar on his heart. In an effort to distract himself, he joined the Coffin Kings charter in Chicago and moved there for a year, fought in an underground bare knuckle ring, and did everything he could to numb himself. That was around the time Steve found out he was a father by way of Oliver basically being dumped at his doorstep, and Eddie realized he didn’t want to miss any more of his honorary nephew’s life.

All of the women he’d been with since then were just futile efforts to fill the void, until you.

So, what are you going to do about it, then, Munson? Just lurk out here on the street all night like a little kid at the fair who’s afraid of the big rides?

He dismounted the bike and stomped out his cigarette nub with the toe of his boot, adjusting the sleeves of his leather. Something made his defenses spike and he looked around the street to see if someone might be sitting in their car, watching him. At this point, he was almost certain that Charlene had paid someone to watch him, because for two days in a row, he’d noticed the same dark red Chevy Cavalier tailing him, staying at least one or two cars back. He didn’t see a car that fit the description parked anywhere near, but whoever it was could be anywhere, maybe even in the building across the street.

Charlene’s unhealthy obsession with him had to run it’s course eventually, she had to get bored and give up at one point. He hoped so, anyway. He couldn’t imagine her dragging this out for much longer, but he also never expected these threats from her in the first place, so he rightfully had his concerns. He thought maybe if he held out a few more weeks, she’d be off on one of her exotic vacations, and she could move on to ruining someone else’s life. But, he couldn’t wait that long to see you, to touch you. Hell, in a couple weeks you might not even want him anymore, and it was a risk he wasn’t willing to take.

There was a chance you might not want him now. There was a chance he’d already fucked everything up.

Thumper was a longtime friend, and he’d been with the Coffin Kings ever since back in the day when Wayne was a patched member. The two smacked their hands together in a signature grip as Eddie crossed the threshold onto the burgundy carpet. Inside the Velvet Hammer was buzzing with music and people and dancers wearing next to nothing on the back stages, people sitting shoulder to shoulder at the bar.

You might as well have been the only one there, though, because you were all he could see: simultaneously loving and hating the fact that you were dressed to kill. He’d never seen you in that color of lipstick before; it was a deep red and he ached to part them with his tongue.

He swore you were about to smile when your eyes met, he caught that adorable glimmer pass over your face and it made his heart still for a beat. But, then it faded just as quickly and you turned away to continue on with what you were doing, giving him the cold shoulder.

This was the first time you hadn’t rushed into his arms since this whole thing started, and it wrecked him. But, he also knew he kind of deserved it.

-----------

Your mouth was moving and sounds were coming out, but you couldn’t remember a word you’d said to the guys at the table in the corner who were still nursing their beers. Your ears were ringing and your adrenaline was surging, flushing a hot wave over your chest. Had Eddie come there to see you? Or was he just there to casually have a drink and get turned on like everyone else?

If he wasn’t there to see you, and he planned on just coming by to hang out once in a while, you’d have to quit. There’s no way you could keep seeing him on a regular basis if this was how he chose to treat you, it would hurt too damn much, and no job was worth that. You had this overwhelming urge to run and hide somewhere, but you couldn’t duck out until Jackie came back, and so you straightened your shoulders and turned to face the music like a big girl.

And there he was: standing at the bar with both elbows hooked on the ledge behind him, boots crossed at the ankles, waiting for you. You could tell that he had just been checking out your ass because of the way his gaze flicked up to your eyes with incriminating speed. His expression was unreadable, but that was nothing new.

Reluctantly, but also, with excitement bubbling in your veins, you made your way over to him, pausing briefly as one of the other servers walked out of the hallway where the bathrooms were. Another song started up, this time it was #1 Crush by Garbage.

“Do you have a break soon?” Eddie swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry at how hot you looked in that strange zipper dress. “Or, I can come back?” His mind couldn’t help but jump straight to the fact that every single dude in the place was thinking dirty thoughts about you, and it made his back teeth clench.

He was there to see you, you thought, your heart soaring. But in almost the same second you realized that he could be there to tell you that this wasn’t working out, that he didn’t want to see you anymore, that he met someone else, that he was moving to Brazil: all of which would be awful, but then at least you could start the process of moving on instead of hanging in limbo. Moving on from Eddie…that sounded like it was easier said than done.

Just then, as your mouth was open about so answer him, Jackie came out adjusting her belt, chewing gum. “Your turn,” she said as she walked between the two of you. “Take a fifteen. Oh, hey Munson,” she added passively at the end, patting him on the arm as she continued around the bar.

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

At the far end of the hallway there was a heavy metal door that locked from the outside automatically when it shut, and there was a little wood wedge out in the alley to keep it open a crack. You bent down to push the wedge into place while Eddie put his hands on his hips and stared at the brick of the building across the way so that he wouldn’t get an erection at the sight of your perfect ass up in the air.

On one side of you squatted a big, metal dumpster, and on the other side were a few square crates where employees sat during their breaks, the pavement between them littered with cigarette butts. It was dark, and the only illumination came from a bulb over the door across the way and a streetlamp further down where the alley met with the sidewalk.

Eddie could tell things were different, he could tell you were upset, probably even hurt and disappointed, and he hated that he had something to do with that. All he wanted to do was put his arms around you, but your energy was telling him that you weren’t ready for that.

“I’m sorry…” He hesitated. What was he sorry for? Lots of things. “...for breaking our date and not calling.”

Your tight stomach softened, and your gaze flicked to his after not being able to make eye contact since stepping out of the building.

Eddie hooked his thumbs into his belt loops and looked down at the ground, shuffling his foot. “I had some shit to take care of and I got overwhelmed. But I should’ve said something to you.”

This was starting to be a pattern with him, but you believed that he was telling the truth. It sounded like there was a lot more to the story, but a sincere apology was worth it’s weight in gold to you. You could also tell that he was nervous to be in front of you right then, like maybe you wouldn’t forgive him.

He opened his mouth to say something else and you reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it, making his gaze jump to yours. “Hey, it’s okay,” you told him as he unhooked his thumb from his belt loop and took your hand. “I missed your stupid face, that’s all.”

He gave a soft snort, a sparkle returning to his eyes.

You leaned in, resting your other hand on his chest, relishing the direction this conversation had gone and how safe and whole you felt in his presence. You searched his eyes. “You need to communicate with me if this is ever going to work, okay? I don’t want you to feel like you can’t tell me things. Really, there’s nothing you could ever share with me about your life that I wouldn’t be able to handle.”

He really, really wanted to believe that was true, but the cynical part of him, the part that had learned to keep secrets as a way of life, doubted that anyone was that understanding.

“Come here,” he breathed on the curve of a smile, cupping your neck, and pulling your mouth to his. There were a few tender, sweet kisses, no tongue, and then he brushed his nose across yours a few times, lips brushing yours as he spoke. “I missed this.”

You kissed his bottom lip, and then his top lip, savoring their plump, perfect shape, before resting your head below his shoulder and wrapping your arms around him in a hug, his leather squeaking at your embrace.

You released a long, heavy breath. “I thought you came here to tell me you didn’t like me anymore.”

He kissed your temple. “I never said I liked you,” he mumbled, to which you dug your fingers into his ribs in an effort to tickle him, simultaneously trying to pull away. But, he held you tightly in place, deep chuckles rumbling in his chest. “It’s much more than that.”

At those words, you settled, smile pressed up against him, swooning so hard you felt like you were drunk.

What he had with you was special, and now, in his thirties, Eddie knew how rare this kind of chemistry was. You were the drug he wanted to be strung out on.

This...this was his, and he wouldn’t let anyone, especially Charlene, take it away from him.

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

There was a pep in your step when you returned to work, enough so that Jackie commented on it, giving you a side eye. “Who the hell got you off on your break?” she asked rhetorically.

Truly, your break had felt like it was over in a blink, like you and Eddie had only been standing out in the alleyway for a second before you checked your Swatch and had to scramble back inside. He asked if he could wait for you and walk you back to your car when your shift was over, and you were fine with that, but you let him know it would be another hour or so, and he didn’t seem to mind.

Eddie knew a lot of the people who worked at the Velvet Hammer. Or, more precisely, the people who worked there knew Eddie. The bartender that night was a guy who looked like Kurt Cobain and he ignored everyone else to make sure Eddie got what he wanted the second he sat down at the bar. The place was packed by then, but every chance you got, you would walk by and run your hand across Eddie’s back and give him a flirty glance over your shoulder as you schlepped drinks around.

Thumper came over and sat next to Eddie when the night got slow and had a beer with him, and the two went out front to have a smoke and chat about the good ‘ol days.

“Is that new server your old lady?” Thumper asked after a drag on his cigarette. He flicked the ashes to the sidewalk and cocked his head.

Eddie propped his foot up behind him, against the building, wallet chain hanging down his thigh, thoughtfully exhaling gray smoke into the night. “Maybe, if I don’t fuck everything up,” he coughed.

Thumper wheezed in a laughing spasm. “You still sticking it to that rich bitch, what’s her name?”

Eddie stiffened. “That’s been over for a while. Bitch got all Fatal Attraction on me,” Eddie’s vernacular took a turn when he was around the older charter members, it was second nature.

“Man, I wish I was 20 years younger,” Thumper sucked in the tuft of graying hair that was under his lip. “Those were the days.”

Eddie was eager to change the subject. “How is the fourth marriage working out for you?”

“Fifth,” Thumper corrected with a nod. “Divorced Jeanie last spring, married Lorraine a few months ago. No kids this time, I got the snip. One more baby momma would break me.”

As bleak as the conversation topic was, Eddie had an inner warmth radiating through his body, healing him, now that he knew the two of you were back in a good place. He didn’t know if a traditional wedding or kids were things that you wanted, but he saw himself making coffee for you in the morning and bringing it to you in your studio while you worked on a painting. He could see you running out the door to hug him as he dragged himself home after a long day at work. A life together with a porch swing and a view of the sunset, maybe a cat and a dog and some chickens. A big garage for his bike and whatever classic car he was working on at the time.

God, he was getting a head of himself. Did you even like dogs?

-----------

Back in the dressing room at the end of your shift, you and Jackie were both changing out of your work clothes and into something more comfortable when Jackie whipped around in only her bra and panties, startling you as you pulled your shirt on over your head.

“Hold up, you never told me you were Eddie Munson’s girl,” she hushed, giving you a sustained look of awe. “The stories I’ve heard about that cock are legendary.”

The way she sounded when she said it suggested that you should’ve been proud, but the declaration only succeeded in activating your anxiety. You tried not to think of all of the women in town he’d given orgasms to as you tied the laces on your shoes. As long as he was faithful to you, none of that other business should matter. But still, somehow it did. That reminded you, maybe it was time to lay the cards out on the table and have that monogamy talk before you got more invested than you already were.

There were still a few customers hunched over their drinks as you walked out, but the dancers were done, and you said goodbye to Jesse, the bartender, thanking him for all of his help. Jackie gave you a high five, and hugged Thumper before she headed off down the opposite side of the street, high ponytail bobbing.

You smiled up at Eddie who was standing there with his arm out, waiting for you to curl against him so he could wrap it around your shoulders.

“I thought for sure you would’ve ditched me by now,” you told him, slipping one of your hands into his back pocket.

“Nah, you’re not getting rid of me that easily,” Eddie joked, lifting his hand in a wave to Thumper as the two of you headed off down the street.

“Take care of that one,” Thumper shouted. “She’s a good girl.”

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

“Are you?” Eddie asked as the two of you approached your car that was parked a block away.

“Am I what?” You asked, stopping to turn and gaze up into his face.

Eddie lifted his chin with a smirk, exposing the tattoo lines that peeked out of the collar of his shirt across his throat. “A good girl?”

You wet your bottom lip with the tip of your tongue and tilted your head. “Depends on who wants to know.”

He pulled took you into his arms for another kiss, eager tongues this time, moans in the back of throats, cock jumping in his jeans.

Your lips came away just enough to speak, your hand cupping his face, the stubble around his jaw prickling your palm. “What about you? Are you a good boy?”

There was a shiver of hesitation on his breath before he answered. “Only for you.”

The two of you were locked in a moment, you could’ve been on the sidewalk, you could’ve been standing on the moon---nothing mattered and you had no concept of time.

But then Eddie spoke up again. “Do you wanna get out of here? Go for a ride? I want to show you something.”

You didn’t have to be back at the Velvet Hammer until Saturday, and the thought of getting on Eddie’s bike again gave you excited goosebumps.

Eddie started opening the strap on one of the black leather saddlebags on the back of his chopper once the two of you arrived, and you stood back and watched as he pulled out a second bare bones helmet, the top shiny like the round edge of a bowling ball.

“I got this for you,” Eddie said, passing it over. “It should fit better than mine.”

You were speechless for a moment, looking down at it, touched by the thoughtful gift. “Thank you, I love it,” you whispered. He placed it on your head and adjusted the strap under your chin, diligently making sure it fit correctly.

“Is it too tight?” He asked, making sure the sides weren’t pinning your ears.

“It’s perfect,” you nodded.

He straddled the bike. “Do you remember how to get on?”

But you were already grabbing onto the back of his jacket and swinging your leg over. You’d been practicing getting on the back of Eddie’s bike in your dreams.

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

You clung to him as the two of you sped along in the dark, your fingertips meeting at his stomach, chest glued to his back, core locked to his tailbone. He had on a pair of clear, protective glasses to keep the bugs from blinding him, and every so often, he would reach one hand down and put it over yours as the bike wound up the hill. You’d kiss the exposed skin on the back of his neck between his hairline and the collar of his leather, and he’d squeeze your thigh.

The spot he wanted to you to was a grass ledge near a line of cherry blossom trees that overlooked the city. He pulled out a thin blanket from one of his saddlebags and stretched it out over the grass. Lights down below twinkled like stars and you took your new helmet off to get comfortable next to him.

“Yep, it’s ugly,” you joked, referring to the spectacular view.

Eddie stretched his legs out in front of him and braced himself on his hands. “I knew you’d hate it just as much as I do,” but then there was a sliver of hesitation, his foot moving back and forth as he considered if he should say it or not. “I’ve never taken anyone up here before.”

Summer was fast approaching as far as the temperature went, but the nights were still chilly, and you had a sweatshirt on, but his proximity and the tone of his voice was rapidly throwing coals on the fire in your circulatory system.

Things progressed quickly. One second, you were laughing at a joke he made, and the next---your lips were on each other, hands roaming over each other’s bodies, heat throbbing between your legs. You were trying to push his jacket off, but Eddie sat up and removed it in a flash, tossing it on the bike with a twist of his wrist.

You rutted your hips against him a few times, but you could sense the hesitancy he had for whatever reason, and you took hold of his hand to move it down to your core, enjoying the growl he let out when he latched on to the wet heat already permeating through your jeans. You clung to his neck as he unzipped them, and you wiggled your hips out so he could slide his hand in. He paused only to take his rings off of his H-E-L-L-F-I-R-E knuckles, and then his fingers dipped back down to curl inside your underwear, slipping into the gushing arousal he found there, groaning against your mouth.

His thick fingers rolled in circles over your anxious nub. “Is this mine?” He asked in a throaty whisper, pressing his forehead to yours, waiting for you to answer.

Saliva got stuck in your throat but you whimpered a yes. He starts to slip his fingers down through your folds and you quiver as he travels deeper, aching to penetrate you, but you catch his wrist, stopping him from going any further.

“I have to...to say something,” you breathed.

Eddie pulled his hand out and rested it on your thigh, and brought his face back so he could see your eyes as you blinked at him under the moonlight. “You can tell me anything, baby.”

You planted a kiss on his chin, feeling nervous for some reason when it came to setting your boundaries. “I can’t be intimate with you if you’re also doing this with other women. I need to know that we’re…” you struggled with how to word that. Demanding some large scale commitment from him might come off as getting ahead of yourself. “I need to know that you and I are something special and there’s no one else,” you paused to lick your lips, eyes lowered to the neckline of his shirt.

Nothing you said could’ve pleased Eddie more, and his attraction to you intensified ten fold in that moment. He used the crook of his finger to tilt your chin up, encouraging you to meet his eyes. “There’s no one else. There hasn’t been anyone else since the barbecue at Robin’s house.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to add, “if you’re my girl, there will never be anyone else,” but he didn’t want to come off as smothering, or make you feel uncomfortable with the intensity in which he was capable of devoting to you.

Relieved, you brushed his cheek with your thumb. “Trust and monogamy are really important to me, I need to know I can trust you,” your eyes met, searching deep, and he pulled your hand to his chest. “You’re the only one I want to be with, and I think we could---”

But Eddie’s lips found yours with a new level of need as he wholeheartedly agreed, so caught up in his growing feelings for you that he didn’t have the words to express them. He could ramble on about cars and music and bikes all day long, but when it came to feelings like this? He was struck dumb.

“I want to taste my girl,” he choked out, helping to work your jeans down with his hand as you kicked them down and off, keeping your mouth on his while your hand clutched his hair that had fallen from the tie and was loose around his shoulders.

“I want to be in your mouth, baby,” you gasped as he met your eyes and then made his way down, lifting your shirt to kiss your stomach, tongue darting out to tease your flesh, face stubble tickling.

A purr escaped his throat as his mouth found its destination and he planted kisses on the outside of your soaked underwear, down your slit, and then he peeled them to the side with his finger, darting his tongue in just enough to make you writhe.

“You can...take those off…” you breathed.

He kissed your inner thigh. “You let me take care of it,” he told you in a deep voice, as he continued on with his business.

His tongue dove in to penetrate you a few times, swallowing, groaning, “fuck, you taste so good,” his hot breath fanned against you as his cock begged for release, his hips rocking against the ground.

The need to be inside of you was overwhelming; painful, even, but he hadn’t brought any condoms with him, and he didn’t know how you would feel about being that close to him this soon in the game. The thought of getting you to cum in his mouth already had his cock leaking.

For some reason, the way he pulled your underwear to the side was turning you on even more? He sucked your clit in and flicked it with his tongue, moaning against you, and it made you arch your chest, exposing your throat to the cherry blossoms above as you cursed. He drew a few long licks along your slit, and then you felt a finger go in just as your fingers dug into the grass on either side of the blanket.

“Are you mine?” Eddie asked between sucks, sinking another finger in.

Crickets made their music all around as the soft hush of the town life below drifted up in the darkness.

“I’m-I’m all yours, baby,” you stammered, forehead clenched.

Eddie’s fingers found a rhythm, moving long and deep in fast strokes as his mouth found the perfect spot that made you hiss, “right there right there,” and he kept working until he could feel your tight walls start to clench around his fingers.

“You’re so good, baby,” you were mumbling, barely coherent now as a strangled cry escaped your lips and your hips fucked into his hand and Eddie’s pelvis fucked the ground, and your eyes started to roll back in your head.

“Eddie, Eddie, cum-cum-cumming,” you jerked as the velvet walls crashed around you, limbs popping spasmodically, whimpering his name.

Eddie pressed his mouth against your core, one hand around your thigh to pin you against his tongue so that he could drink every last drop, riding the high with you until he knew your nub would be too sensitive, and then his tongue returned to your hole a few times, moaning with pleasure at the sweet nectar of your release.

And then you were pulling him up, coaxing him into your arms, your mouth eager to find his and taste your spend on his lips. He wrapped the side of the blanket around you to keep you warm as you rolled against him, both lost in an oxytocin high, muttering words of affection to each other.

Both falling hard under the adoring pink eyes of the cherry blossoms.

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

The next day, someone knocked on the door to the women’s restroom at the Velvet Hammer because it was locked, and Steve’s head sprang up from between the thighs of the woman he had propped up on the sink counter.

“Ocupado!” he yelled in Spanish, lips and chin glistening in the dim red light.

The woman with the short skirt shoved up around her waist and her feet planted on his shoulders whined, “Don’t stop, Stevie, I’m close,” which made Steve’s mouth lunge forward again with unbridled enthusiasm.

About a minute later, she came, while grabbing his hair and telling him no one ever made her cum that hard. She was a yoga instructor, and they’d only met up a few times so far, but he was already thinking about getting her name tattooed somewhere on his body.

As they were cleaning up, there was another knock at the door, this time it was more of an aggressive pounding, followed by the voice of Jackie, one of the servers. “Telephone call for you, Casanova!” She swatted the door a few more times with the palm of her hand.

Steve let Mary the yoga instructor go out first, and then he followed after a ten count, tucking his shirt in and slicking his hair back as he went. Mary went to the bar to wait for him. It was almost 9:30 and he was getting off early that night because there was another bouncer there, and it was slow for a Friday.

Steve ducked in behind the bar and yanked the receiver to his ear. “Yeah, this is Steve? Whadda ya want?”

It was you, and by the sound of the gentle sucking in of breath and tremor in your voice, you had been crying. Your voice was a tiny mew. “Steve? Have you seen Eddie tonight?”

At the dire tone of your voice, Steve curled into the corner of the bar and put a finger in his other ear so that he could hear you more clearly. “I haven’t, but I should put an ankle monitor on him. Are you okay? Are Oliver and the girls okay?”

You cleared your throat, about to try and explain, but then just said, “Everyone is fine. I’m sorry to bother you. I have to go,” and then you hung up on him, sobs jerking in your chest.

-----------

Earlier that same evening, Robin and Oliver came over to have a pizza night with you and Katie at your place, and then Robin and Katie cuddled in front of the TV while you and Oliver spread out at the kitchen table to make some art.

You had been messing around with some watercolor pencil sketches when they first arrived, and Oliver was mesmerized. He sat as close as he could to you and asked if he could help. You brought out a bunch of markers and crayons and brushes from your studio, and the two of you worked in silence for periods of time, just enjoying the craft. He was a creative, intelligent little boy, and the latent motherhood genes in your DNA made you feel very protective of him. Mess with you? Fine. Mess with Oliver? I will end you.

His concentration reminded you of a younger you, honestly, and a couple times he mentioned his Uncle Eddie and your heart swelled.

Speaking of Eddie---last night, after he made you cum like a banshee, you got dressed so he could take you back down the hill to your car. You called him once you got home, like he asked you to, but you hadn’t heard from him since. Fridays were always busy for him at work, never mind the rest of the shit he had to deal with, so you weren’t too worried about it. He’d probably call you later when he was in bed. There had been a palpable shift, and things were different between the two of you now. You were both on the same page, each committed to a mutual respect for each other.

By the end of the evening, when there was only a few crusts of pizza left in the box, Oliver gathered the handful of artwork he’d created on your sketchbook paper, and slid them over to you as if he was making a business deal.

“Can you sell these in your gallery?” he asked, bending one of his small fingers into the stack. “That way I can help my mom pay some bills.”

For more reasons that one, you started to tear up. You turned your head away to sniff and ran your finger under your eyes, blinking as wide as you could to keep the waterworks at bay.

“Ollie,” Robin said softly. She had just been coming up behind him when he said that, and her eyes met yours. “Things have been a bit stressful lately, but I never told him to---”

“I wish I could,” you nodded, composing yourself, turning to smile at Oliver. “These drawings are worth way too much, though, our gallery could never afford them.”

He looked thoughtfully down at the stack and shuffled them, smiling to himself, and then he pulled one out and passed hit to you. “This one is you and uncle Eddie. You can keep it.”

You were suddenly so emotional. Was your period close? Was someone cutting onions?

The picture he drew with watercolor pencils and charcoal and crayons was a tall stick figure with long, wavy dark hair holding hands with a big pink heart with arms and legs, but no hair or other defining characteristics. An orange oval with legs and a round head to represent your cat Charlie, and there were “m” shaped birds and a sun in the sky.

You thanked Oliver, swallowing back a hitch in your chest, and immediately went over to put his artwork on the fridge, wiping your wet cheeks.

-------

Robin and Oliver had been gone for 20 minutes or so, and you and Katie were wrapped up on opposite ends of the couch watching a horror movie in the dark, candles burning on the coffee table, when the doorbell rang.

It didn’t just ding once: whoever it was blasted their finger onto the button a good 6 or 7 times before they let up.

“What the hell,” you murmured, pausing the tape as you got up, prancing to the door, hoping that it might be Eddie.

You peaked through the peephole and was confused to see no one there. Your eyeball was scanning around for other signs of life when it landed on a manila envelope on the doormat.

“Where you expecting some mail?” You called to Katie, and she got so curious, she jumped up from the couch to come down the hall and see what made you ask that.

She checked the peephole to take a look at the envelope and the surrounding area. Down the street, you heard a car engine start up.

You backed up, worry creasing your brow. “Leave it. I have a bad feeling.”

Katie threw you a look over her shoulder before she unlocked the door and swiftly bent down to snatch the envelope before reeling back inside and clamping the locks down again.

“It has your name on it,” she said, handing it to you.

Sure enough, on the front was your full name in block letters, and on the other side was a sealed lip held in place by an aluminum tab.

Just then, a dark red Chevy Cavalier crept down the street without its headlights and eased onto the main road, out of sight.

-----------

Eddie was at the garage finishing up until 6, and then he had a beer with Bones, who was also a Coffin King and one of his mechanics, and then he went over to Wayne’s to help him install a new cabinet in his bathroom. He made them both some tomato soup and grilled cheese for dinner, and it got him wondering if you would like it if he made it for you.

It was getting late, and he almost called you from Wayne’s, but decided it would feel good to take his boots off and lay down first. He’d let you know the night before that you might not hear from him until late; he was determined to be a better communicator and not let you down again.

He yawned as he entered his apartment, locking the door behind him and throwing his leather on the back of the sofa.

The new answering machine that he had picked up from Radio Shack on his lunch break, and set up at your request, was blinking that he had 2 new messages, but it wasn’t something he was used to checking, so he cracked open a beer and hopped in the shower first.

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

Once you saw what was in the envelope, denial was the first stage you jumped to.

“But, what are these?” You spread them out on the kitchen island, shock clamping down on your brain so that it refused to process the information in front of you.

They were 8x10 photos, taken with some type of high-powered camera...of Eddie. In his apartment. With two different women on separate occasions. All taken within the past couple days.

How did you know that they were taken within the last couple days? Whoever took them didn’t want to leave you with any room for doubt, and so they were holding up the front page of the paper for that day to mark each incident.

But, you knew Eddie so well, that detail would not have been necessary.

In the ones where he was in nothing but his boxers, kissing Erica in the hallway, you could see the markings from the love bite on his neck that you had accidentally given him over the weekend when he came to pick you up at the gallery.

In the second set of photos, where a tattooed redhead you didn’t recognize was behind him on the bed with her arms wrapped around him---he was in the exact same t-shirt he’d worn last night with a smudge of your red lipstick on the white collar. From when you were both under the cherry blossoms. When he promised that you could trust him and there was no one else. After you opened yourself up to him and let him take a piece of you.

“Who would do this?” Katie said in a hush, almost to herself, picking up each one to look at it closer. “Why would someone do this?”

“There must be a mistake,” you mumbled, your nervous system crashing, feeling lightheaded.

Katie swallowed and put down the photo she was holding, giving you a look that was full of sadness and concern. “How could it be a mistake, though? That is definitely Eddie.”

Feeling yourself about to lose it, you scrambled to pull all of the photos together and hurried down the hall to lock yourself in your room. Once inside, you clutched the photos to your chest and slid down the door until you were on the ground, shaking, choking on tears.

-----------

The older man with the salt n’ pepper hair and crystal blue eyes returned to the Velvet Hammer on Friday evening just to see if you were working. He had a whiskey sour at the bar and asked after you, but was told you didn’t have a shift that evening. Steve overheard the conversation he was having with the bartender and went over to him.

“She’s a friend of mine,” Steve raised an eyebrow, rolling a toothpick between his lips. “Why are you asking about her?”

John turned on his bar stool and shook Steve’s hand, white teeth brilliant against his tan skin.

“She waited on our table the other day, and, it took me a while, but I finally realized where I knew her from.” He paused to extend his hand and ask Steve if he could buy him a drink, but Steve declined.

John opened his wallet to pull a business card out. “I bought some original art from her at an outdoor market a few years ago. She’s a brilliant painter," he met Steve’s bored gaze, seemingly unaffected by the intimidation factor that he usually had on people.

He handed Steve his card. “I’d love to commission another piece from her, if she’s willing. Do you think you could have her call my office?”

Steve inspected the card, turning it over.

“I wrote my personal line on the back,” he continued. “I’m usually at work, but my secretary always knows where to find me.”

Steve knew that you’d be glad for the extra cash, so he slipped the guys card in his back pocket instead of throwing it away like he normally would.

“I didn’t catch your name?” John asked Steve.

“That’s because I never threw it,” Steve returned, introducing himself.

“Good to meet you, Steve,” he nodded sincerely. “My name is John. John Gregson.”

Steve had already read his name on the business card and was still trying to figure out why it sounded so familiar as he watched him get into a black Mercedes across the street.

----------

Eddie was in his gray sweats, drying his hair with a towel when he finally noticed the number 2 flashing on the machine. He pushed play absently as he went to sit on the bed.

The first message sounded like a strangled gasp and then a sniffle, and it made his head snap up, both hands holding onto the blue towel around his neck.

“...Eddie…” it was you, and he could tell you were in distress, and you’d been crying. He leaned forward to hover over the machine, his brow clenched. There was a stretch of time where you were struggling to speak and only managed to swallow a few times. “….why would you do this to me?” Then another pause when it sounded like you were whispering whywhywhy over and over under your breath.

You finished with, “This hurts so bad...." And then there was a click and the message abruptly stopped.

Eddie’s head was reeling, fear and worry jack-hammering in his veins.

His eyes wide and frantic, he picked up the receiver to call you, but then the second message clicked on.

The sound of Charlene’s voice spiked with amused laughter sent a dagger into his gut:

“I warned you.”

--------

Part 9

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justalonelybitch · 7 months

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Starstruck

Yeri x Twice!Reader

Genre: Fluff (so homo)

Warnings: severe case of gAY, reader can't even make eye contact without dying, twice bully her gay ass shamelessly.

Buy Me A Coffee :)

Part One ~ Part Two

The faintest smile crept onto your lips as you stared at the television screen ahead of you where Red Velvet’s live performance was displayed. You couldn’t help but admire the talented idols, although you would be lying if you said one member hadn’t caught your eye. For as long as you could remember you had been a huge fan of Kim Yerim, much to your members' amusement. To your dismay, a playful jab on your side tore your longing gaze away from the screen. “You’re staring so hard she can probably feel your gaze through the screen,” Jeongyeon teased with a shake of her head.

A faux frown crept onto your features as you narrowed your eyes at the older girl. “She’s just really pretty,” you shrugged plainly after a pause of silence, gazing back up to the screen, eyes shining with admiration. “Yeah, ‘pretty, talented, amazing, gorgeous, kind, funny..’” Jeongyeon trailed off, listing all the adjectives you’d used to describe your idol on previous occasions. “I’m just stating facts,” you defended with a pout, hands raised. Nayeon, who was seated on the couch opposite you in Music Bank’s waiting room, snickered at your expression. “Y/n’s in loveeee,” she drawled, making exaggerated kissy faces in your direction.

“You’re right, I’ve never seen Y/n this interested in any other idol before.” Jihyo, who had been silently listening, butted in. “You guys are mean, you always gang up on me.” You complained, desperately trying to divert their attention from your obvious ogling of the Red Velvet member, but to no avail. Nayeon merely dragged Momo into her shenanigans, the two teaming up to mock your fondness for Yeri. “Nayeon unnie you’re just as bad, if not worse when it comes to IU sunbaenim.” Tzuyu interjected from beside you, earning a bout of laughter from those listening.

“At least someone here loves me.” You huffed, leaning into Tzuyu’s side as you glared at your older members. “Don’t be gross, save the heart eyes for Yeri.” The youngest uttered distastefully, pushing you away. Everyone laughed as you stared wide eyed at Tzuyu, lips parted in shock. “You’re just as bad as them,” you whined, betrayal written on your features. “Sana unnie!” You called out, knowing if you could rely on anyone it would be her. The girl in question pounced on you in an instant, tackling you in a tight hug. “What’s wrong?” She cupped your cheeks upon spotting the pout on lips.

“They’re being mean to me,” you grumbled, eyes shining hopefully as you stared up at her. “Why are you being mean to my baby?” Sana questioned the members, patting your head comfortingly. “Two words; Kim Yerim.” Nayeon uttered smugly, chuckling when you scowled at her. “Again?” Mina questioned, finally finished in the make-up chair. “You should’ve seen her, she was practically drooling at the screen.” Jeongyeon added with a smirk. “I was not!” You refuted, huffing incredulously, but they all shared knowing looks, even Sana. “I love you Y/n, but even I can see how much you like her.” She smiled apologetically.

Sagging your shoulders in defeat, you hid your face in your hands to cover your reddening cheeks. This would definitely make it onto one of your top ten most embarrassing moments. It didn’t help that you were bound to run into the Red Velvet member in mere moments, due to perform straight after them. “If you’re such a big fan, why haven’t you asked Nayeon unnie for Yeri’s number?” Tzuyu questioned as if it were the simplest thing in the word. “Because!” You exclaimed, far too flustered and unable to come to a reasonable conclusion. The words ‘hopeless gay’ sprung to mind.

“Maybe she’ll finally gain the courage to ask Yeri herself, because we’re on now.” Jihyo commented, ushering everyone out of the waiting room. You reluctantly followed after you members, most unwilling to exit the confines of the isolated room. As if the universe had both blessed and cursed you all at once, Red Velvet was the first group you bumped into upon entering the buzzing corridor. You resisted the urge to glare at Jeongyeon as you heard her laughing behind you, no doubt her hushed whispers to Jihyo were about anyone but you. Instead you focussed on the group ahead of you, desperately fighting off the blush that threatened to rise to your cheeks.

You all bowed at one another, exchanging words of encouragement and praise. And for the briefest of moments, Kim Yerim’s gaze landed on you. You swore your heart skipped a beat as she smiled brightly, eyes crinkling into crescents as she tipped her head in acknowledgement. A pink tint dusted your cheeks as you smiled back at her politely. The moment passed as quickly as it came, Yeri and the remaining members of Red Velvet shuffling past you and into their designated waiting room. You let out a breath of air as the door clicked shut, failing to realise you’d even been holding your breath in the first place.

“Hurry your starstruck ass up,” Tzuyu chuckled from behind you, pushing you away from the very space Kim Yerim had just stood before you.

Before you knew it performances had been wrapped up and you were all herded back onto the mainstage. Red Velvet was mere metres away and you couldn’t help but spare a glance in their direction. Instant regret washed over you as Yerim’s bright grin awaited your gaze, her smile widening almost mockingly. Cheeks flushing a deep red, you whipped your head around to bury your face in Momo’s shoulder. The older girl laughed shamelessly in the face of your embarrassment, slinging her arm around your shoulders. “She literally just existed, what is wrong with you?” Nayeon questioned from beside you, unable to contain her amusement. “Shut up!” You groaned, knowing the camera’s were sure to capture all of this.

You tried your best to remain focused throughout the rest of the broadcast, but the feeling of eyes burning into the side of your head was beginning to nag at you. “It seems Y/n isn’t the only one with a staring problem,” Nayeon commented, sending her idol friend a sideways glance. “Don’t look now, but a certain Red Velvet member seems to be very interested in you,” Jeongyeon whispered in your ear. You jerked your head to the right almost immediately. Jihyo sighed deeply at your reaction, pinching the bridge of her nose to resist the urge to smack you on the back of the head. Apparently no one had bothered to learn the art of subtlety.

To your surprise, you were faced with not only one, but all five Red Velvet members’ gazes. Perhaps they’d caught wind of your massive small crush on their youngest member. With the way your members tease you so recklessly you wouldn’t be surprised if the whole industry knew. You swallowed harshly at the thought, eyes wide and unblinking as you stared back at them like a deer caught in headlights. You almost jumped out of your skin as a blast of confetti shot up inches away from your face. Amid your gay panic, Twice had been announced as the winners of the broadcast. So that’s why everyone was looking at you…

You clapped happily, cheering alongside your members, but remained incredibly confused by the events that had transpired. A gentle brush of fingertips along your lower back made quick work of pulling you back to reality. You leaned into the touch without much thought, only to find your eyes widening tenfold upon realising the rest of your members were all standing in front of you. Slowly turning your head to the side, you swore you almost passed out when your eyes found none other than Kim Yerim’s side profile. “Congratulations,” was all she uttered, and God was her voice perfect. You could certainly die happily now. She gave your waist a small squeeze before slipping into the crowd of idols. Her members followed closely behind her with knowing smiles as they glanced back at you.

You swore you could still feel her touch burning your skin, staring off into the distance dazedly. For the camera’s sake, you turned stiffly towards your members, doing your best to act as though nothing had happened. However it didn’t quite go as planned. “Breath, you idiot!” Nayeon gave you a firm slap on the back, staring at you as though you’d gone insane. Perhaps she wasn’t wrong. The rest of your members pointed at your flushed face whilst failing to hold back their giggles. The encore went by in breeze, not that you remembered much of it, mind far to occupied with thoughts of Yeri. Your members would never let you live this down.

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you attempted navigate your way through the endless corridors after what was supposed to be a quick trip to the bathroom. You wandered the halls aimlessly, seemingly lost in Music Bank’s maze of hallways. “Y/n!” Your heart stopped as you heard an all too familiar voice call out to you. Willing yourself not to run away from the embarrassment that was bound to follow this interaction, you inhaled sharply before spinning on your heel. You winced at the feeling of your cheeks warming for the millionth time that day, standing stiffly as Yerim jogged towards you. Was it even humanly possible for someone to look this good running?

You let out a surprised squeak as she wrapped you in a warm embrace the moment she was close enough to reach you. Your shoulders tensed as you stared at the wall ahead of you, heart thrashing in your chest as her intoxicatingly sweet shampoo invaded your senses. “How have you been?” She asked far too casually for your liking, pulling back to a comfortable distance but keeping hands on your shoulders. “Good,” you answered shortly, gaze held firmly on the floor as though it were the most interesting thing in the world. Yerim sighed at your response, glancing cautiously around the empty corridor.

“I missed you,” she tried again, smiling when you melted under her gaze. “I missed you too,” you whispered, finally finding the will to meet her gaze. Her chocolate brown orbs shone with mirth as she pulled you into yet another hug. “I watched your performance,” you mumbled, face pressed to the crook of her neck. “Yeah?” She hummed, refusing to let go just yet. “You looked really pretty,” you admitted, ducking your head when she leaned back to cup your flushed cheeks knowingly. “Not as pretty as you,” she retorted, pressing her soft lips to your cheek when she was certain no one was nearby.

Biting back a timid smile when your face flushed completely, you dropped your head to her shoulder in embarrassment. “We’ve been dating for years Y/n, how do you still end up a blushing mess everytime I so much as look in your direction?” Yerim inquired teasingly, grinning when you glared up at her. “It’s not my fault one of the most beautiful people I know happened to ask me to be her girlfriend.” You huffed indignantly. “I beg to differ,” she argued, earning a raised brow from you. “It is your fault I asked you to be my girlfriend because you were so pretty I couldn’t get you out of my head.” She insisted, smiling triumphantly when you opened your lips only for no words to escape.

“Y/n!” A voice yelled from the distance, the two of you jumping apart instinctively. “Oh,” Jeongyeon uttered when she rounded the corner, shocked by the sight that greeted her. Jihyo was hot on her tail, bumping right into the taller girl's back. They both stared at you with wide eyes, standing stunned before you. Yerim turned to you with a cheeky smile, leaning closer to whisper in your ear. “See you tonight,” your girlfriend murmured, winking at you before bowing to your members. “Bye Y/n!” She drawled, smirking smugly when your cheeks flushed red. Before you knew it she disappeared, leaving you to fend for yourself, feeling small under the curious eyes of Jihyo and Jeongyeon.

“Sorry, I got lost.” You trailed off awkwardly, knowing they’d probably been looking for you for quite some time now. “And found Yeri apparently,” Jihyo finished, unable to hide her surprise. “Don’t tell me you finally found the courage to speak to her and I wasn’t even there to witness it,” Jeongyeon complained. “No, she just congratulated us,” you were quick to deny. “Please tell me you at least got her number,” the older girl gazed at you expectantly. She groaned in disappointment when you shook your head, sheepishly scratching the back of your neck. “You were gone for a whole 20 minutes and you couldn’t even get her number?” Jeongyeon deadpanned.

“Jeez, you really are hopeless Y/n.” Jeongyeon grinned, shaking her head in amusement. You merely hummed in response, the ghost of a smile tugging at your lips. “What’s that on your cheek?” Jihyo questioned, pointing to the lipstick smudge Yerim has so kindly left on your face. “Nothing,” you replied quickly, wiping the mark with your thumb. Unconvinced, your leader narrowed her eyes in suspicion but said nothing. Upon returning to your waiting members, they were quick to resume their teasing. It only worsened when they discovered you’d actually had a chance to speak with your idol and did absolutely nothing about it..or so they thought.

You supposed it wasn’t so bad after all. The relentless teasing was somewhat tolerable if it meant you got to spend the evening curled into your girlfriend's side without worrying about your over protective members. You had no doubt they would catastrophize the situation if they knew where you really disappeared to most nights. Perhaps you would tell them one day just to see the looks on their faces. But for now they would remain blissfully unaware.

writing quality was thrown out the window, but the homo stayed strong 💪

#yeri x reader #red velvet x reader #yeri imagines #red velvet imagines #kim yerim x reader #twice x reader #twice imagines

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ladyveronikawrites · 5 months

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Will We Both Be Satisfied

oh hey, shout out to my pals in the server for helping me process and accept that one shots will never just stay one shots, you all are amazing at allowing me to brainstorm these crazy ideas with you- also collars iykyk.

BIG THANKS TO @deathblacksmoke and @cowpokeomens for beta-ing and helping me merge two drabbles into this beauty.

This fic is the combination of:

I Can't Read Your Mind and Say My Name

also mentions events that took place in Hotel Hijinks

This is can read on it's own.

*more parts ahead because- why not*

Pairing: TOP!Noah Sebastian x bottom!Nicholas Ruffilo [switch gang]

Summary: What starts out as innocent pampering for Nicholas' birthday, really heats up when Noah vows to make his boyfriend's fantasy come true.

CW: consensual voyeurism, Somnophilia (individual becomes sexually aroused by someone who is unconscious) , Acousticophilia - (being sexually aroused by sound/ noises, moans, music etc), male masturbation, Noah being first sour then sweet, spit as lube, brief mentions of collars and other non-descript BDSM implements. If I missed anything please let me know!

Word count: 1.9k

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Nick chews on his necklace while he cleans the kitchen when he hears the front door open and close. In the corner of his vision, he sees a flash of tattooed arms. He doesn't look up when he asks, “Hey Noah, I was wondering if I-” but he swallows the rest of his question when he turns and meets Noah's eyes.

His mouth drops open when he notices the singer's hair- well, lack of hair. “N-nevermind.” Nick turns back, busying his fingers with putting away glasses into the cupboard to hide his embarrassment. He stretches his body long to reach the top shelf, his bed shirt hitching higher, when he feels large warm hands wrap around the exposed skin of his tummy. The back of Nick's neck tingles as Noah leans down, breathing into his ear to kiss his earlobe.

“I can’t read your mind, Nicky…” Nick grips the counter's edge as Noah nuzzles into the crook of his neck. He huffs, accepting defeat. “I was uh… going to ask to braid your hair, but um..” Nick trails off when Noah's husky laugh rumbles against his skin.

“Sorry,” Noah says softly as he gently turns Nick to face him, “but you can still braid Jolly’s hair.” Nick knows Noah is trying to help, but when he slides his hand through Noah’s now short hair, sadness grips his stomach, and he can’t meet Noah’s eyes.

“It’s just not the same.” Nick drops his hand to his side, turning out of Noah’s embrace, but is met with resistance.

“Here, why don’t we finish watching Attack on Titan, and I’ll braid your hair,” Noah says as he twirls a finger into his boyfriend’s raven hair. Nick’s blue-grey eyes light up and Noah can’t stop the grin from curling his lips. “Let me finish this up,” he says as he tucks the hair behind Nick’s ear, “and I’ll make us some popcorn while you get the show started.”

Nick answers back with a quick kiss on Noah’s lips before pulling from his embrace, giggling and practically skipping on his way to the living room. Nick collects a few pillows to sit on in front of the couch and a blanket to wrap himself in while he waits for Noah. Warming buttery popcorn fills his nostrils, making him sigh as Noah slides in behind him on the large green velvet sofa.

“Comfy?” Noah asks as he hands Nick the bucket of popcorn, the collector’s edition from when the pair saw the Avengers movie in theaters all those years ago- well before they ever admitted their feelings for one another.

“Mhmm,” Nick answers with a mouth full of popcorn. He nuzzles against Noah’s firm chest as his boyfriend starts to detangle his unruly hair. Noah is so gentle with him, the slight tug on Nick’s scalp pricks at first then melts away the tension instantly. Noah’s slender fingers work quickly to section his hair down the middle. He loosely ties one section off with the hair tie from his wrist before starting the plait.

Nick’s eyelids start to get heavy despite the intense scene on the screen. With Noah’s warm breath on his neck and the stimulation of his scalp, Nick is struggling to stay awake. It feels so good to be cared for and pampered, sometimes he wishes he could do the same for Noah.

“You are doing so well staying still,” Noah mumbles softly, eyes still focused on the task. He smirks when he watches Nick shiver slightly at his praises. “Hey,” Noah pitches his voice lower, stern. Nick freezes instantly. “I’m almost done. Will you be a good boy for me and let me finish?”

“Yes, sir,” Nick whispers, knowing how much Noah loves to be addressed as sir. Their dynamic is unique considering they are both switches, despite everyone proclaiming Noah as THE dominant. They make it work; going with the flow of it and not caring too much about how it should be and all that bullshit.

Nick shoves more popcorn into his mouth as Noah continues, trying and failing to muffle the moan that slips from his parted lips. Emboldened by the sound Nicholas makes, Noah tugs at the root once more before tying off the final braid. Nick’s eyes flutter closed as his head rolls back into Noah’s chest with a deep groan.

“Wanna see how I did?” Noah asks before pecking a kiss on Nick’s cheek. “Yeah,” Nick mumbles sleepily as Noah stretches his limbs long before sliding off the couch and offering an outstretched hand to him. Nick mentally shakes himself awake and accepts his boyfriend’s hand. Noah’s dazzling grin makes Nick blush; he will never tire of Noah’s smile and how it makes him feel all floaty inside.

Noah leads them into the hallway where some of Nick’s art is framed on the wall. One of Nick’s favorite spots, besides their bedroom of course. One day when Nick was at the shop, Noah took it upon himself, without any prompting or nagging for that matter, to paint and decorate the hall just for Nick. A smile creases his eyes as he remembers crying into Noah’s arms when he saw the sweet gift that Noah had given him.

Nick is pulled back to the present when Noah puts his hands on his shoulders to stop him in front of the full-length mirror right outside their bedroom door. Butterflies dance in his stomach as he looks up at Noah through the mirror and catches a soft flush color his cheeks.

“Thank you,” Nick beams, before reaching up across his chest to grab at Noah’s hand resting on his shoulder and pressing a kiss to his tattooed knuckles.

Suddenly, Nick is spun around and shoved against the mirror with a thud. Before his tired brain can catch up, Noah pries his lips apart with his tongue. Nick kisses him back, wrapping his arms around Noah’s neck to deepen the heated kiss. Noah groans and grinds his hard cock against Nick’s thigh just for a second, a tease- before untangling himself completely.

Nick whines with a disapproving huff, but quickly clamps his jaw shut and casts his eyes to the ground. His cheeks burn with shame and his shoulders tense waiting for his punishment. Nick flinches slightly when a finger tilts his chin up. To his surprise, Noah’s brown eyes are soft and a small smile lifts the corners of his lips.

“Sor-” Noah silences Nick with a finger to his lips. “It’s ok, tonight I will let it slide,” Noah assures him.

“Thank you, sir.”

“I’m going to shower and I’ll meet you in bed, ok?” Noah lifts Nick’s as his lips ghost across his inked moons.

“Yes, sir.” Nick flashes a wicked grin before leaning on his tiptoes and steals another kiss from Noah before making his way to the bedroom.

The sound of trickling water filters into his ears when Noah turns on the shower tap, as Nick crosses the threshold. A glint of something metallic catches his eye on the wall; within the small collection of collars and other leathers- Noah’s birthday gift shines brightly illuminated by the moonlight, an oxblood collar with rose gold metal. Hopefully, they will be able to break it in soon.

Nostalgia makes his heart flutter, when his eyes drift over the shadow box the pair crafted together, a simple matte frame full of hotel business cards and pamphlets they collected over the years from all over the world. One card in particular stands out, the hotel was overbooked and Nick and Noah were forced to share a single bed.

Nick chuckles at the memory of how nervous Noah was that night, but somehow something they thought would be terrible, turned out to be the best thing that could have ever happened to them. Nick yawns again, stretching his body long as Noah starts to sing in the shower. His eyelids flutter as he crawls under the covers and Noah’s soft voice lulls him to sleep.

_____

Noah finds Nick sound asleep in bed. The corners of his lips curl in a smirk as he watches his boyfriend’s bare chest rise and fall. He thinks it's cute the way Nick clutches the pillow tight to his side when he sleeps. Noah chuckles to himself as a devilish and delicious idea pops into his head.

He always knew Nick had a thing for his voice. When Nick explained exactly what he wanted, though—especially on this particular day—Noah couldn’t help but oblige.”

Noah waits for one more breath before fishing the earbuds from the pocket of his joggers and padding silently into the room. Noah freezes when Nick stirs, but soon he is snoring softly. Noah slowly exhales the breath he is holding before leaning over his boyfriend to pop an earbud in his ear gently. His heart pounds in his ears as he waits for Nick to wake but he doesn't. Relief washes over him as he leans against the wall and slides his phone from his pocket. He finds the voice memo he made only hours prior of him jerking off. He makes sure the volume is low when he presses play.

The moan Nick makes shoots straight to Noah's dick. “N-n,” Nick’s soft moan turns into a snore as his movements sputter out. Hungry to pull more beautiful noises from his boyfriend, Noah increases the volume just a bit.

Nick grunts and his shoulders tense as he holds the pillow tighter. Noah pops in the other earbud and it's like deja vu or maybe it’s inception. The moans in his ear, his moans- turn him on just as much as his boyfriend.

When he can’t take it any longer, Noah frees his hard-on from his boxers and spits on his hand before stroking himself, matching Nick’s thrusts against the pillow. His head rolls back against the wall with a thud as he shuts his eyes tight, focusing on the noises coming from the sleeping man’s mouth. He turns up the volume once again and Nick starts to whimper. Noah clenches his jaw tight at the sound as the pleasure begins to coil in his core.

“Noa-” Nick’s raspy groan is Noah’s demise. “Fuck,” Noah hisses as precum slicks his hand. When he finally opens his eyes, he finds his boyfriend’s hair an unruly mess and his body trembling.

It’s now or never.

Noah pushes himself off the wall and rips the covers off of Nick. In his deep sleep, instinct takes over as Nick ruts faster against the pillow. Noah grips the headboard with his free hand and leans over Nick, quickly stroking the precum over his erect cock. A deep moan shudders through him uninhibited. It’s then he finally hears it.

“Noah.”

With white knuckles, his rhythm sputters in time with Nick’s as his cum splashes onto his boyfriend’s back. Grunting, he works himself through the aftershock as Nick’s body stills, his breath slowing back to snoring.

Breathing heavily as Noah comes down from the post-orgasm high, he tucks himself into his boxers and pulls his shirt off to carefully clean up his mess. After discarding the shirt on the floor, he climbs into bed with Nick, kissing his boyfriend’s shoulder before wrapping his arm around his bare waist to pull him closer. Breathing in Nick’s scent and body heat, he whispers, “Happy Birthday Nicholas.”

“Thank you,” Nick mumbles with a satisfied sigh, nuzzling closer to his boyfriend.

💜thank you for reading💜

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sapphicvalentines · 6 days

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☆Baby,the stars shine bright☆

pt2 ,pt1

inspired by the 'kamikaze girls',♡ always had unconditional love for lolita fashion and nothing else but when she met ellie,an auburn haired girl whos part of a gang with a dad's fashion sense ,her love for clothes begins to compete with her growing feelings for ellie.

strangers to friends to lovers,love-hate friendship,ellie is into reader♡ but reader♡ shows no interest (in the beginning),opposite aesthetics,early 2000s

fluff,wlw

wc: 2k

"Jesus Christ !" the girl exclaimed when you showed her a small room full of neatly piled clothes. White T-shirts, jerseys, tracksuits, jackets, and even shoes were spread out everywhere. The motorcycle girl's eyes lit up brighter than the room.

"all of this, and here I thought I would have leftovers," she said. Her authoritative demeanor instantly vanished when she chuckled, and she felt like she was entering the gates of heaven as she walked into the room.

You let her meticulously inspect the fake clothes one by one, trying to find what she had initially come for.

"Is this all yours?" She noticed your silence and assumed you were used to seeing this type of luxury compared to her.

"of course," you assured, trying not to seem suspicious at all. You didn't even know where your dad got these clothes, and the last thing you wanted was to lose your very first customer.

"bullshit, you stole it, right?" she responded. You couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic or genuinely upset. You couldn't see her smirk since her back was turned to you as she shuffled through the fake luxury clothes.

"well, if you don't plan on buy—"

"I'll take this," the motorcycle girl said, holding out a large black jacket that looked awfully similar to the one she was currently wearing, except it didn't have the golden writing of her gang.

But when you wanted to point that out, the auburn-haired girl had already taken 2000 bucks out of her wallet, eager to buy the jacket.

And then suddenly, guilt washed over you again, this time slightly worse than when you'd get money from your dad. "Actually, it only costs a thousand."

You had been pretty unfazed during this entire situation, but her next reaction left you surprised.

"only a thousand? Shut up, it's literally worth much more," the auburn-haired girl retorted, stepping closer to you, summoning her authoritative tone from earlier. You've never seen someone willing to overpay; this girl was truly something.

You looked at the two bills of 1000 bucks in her veiny hands before looking back at her face.

You didn't even know which thing was more questionable: the fact that she was carrying that amount of cash or that she was offended by the "under price."

The look of pure confusion in your eyes made her rethink.

"but if you're being for real..." ,she took back one bill of 1000 bucks before putting it in her pocket.

Though you were bad at reading people, you discovered she was definitely the type to act before thinking. It added to the list of common things she had with your dad.

Your eyes lingered on the 1000 bucks she gave you, and you thanked her gratefully, earning a smirk from the freckled-face girl. You had noticed her beautiful freckles from the moment she approached you; her green eyes perfectly contrasted with them, you secretly thought.

Having accomplished her side quest for the day, the auburn-haired girl shot a last glance at the room filled with clothes before following you to the front door.

The sweet scent of your perfume enveloped her, making her hum quietly. She hoped she didn't smell sweaty during the entire encounter.

Your first customer rode off on her motorcycle after carefully placing the bag carrying her jacket over the handlebar, looking joyful.

It was only when you watched her disappear in the dust as she drove far away that you realized you didn't even know her name.

"you should listen to yourself instead of listening to me."

"I still need your advice grandma."

A decade ago, your mother tried to convince you to live with her, insisting that her misbehavior didn't make her a bad person. With the mentality of a child and the limited free will you had, you decided to stay with your dad and your grandmother, who were rather laid-back. You were certain your closet wouldn't look the way it does now if you had unwillingly lived with your mom.

Thinking about your closet, the guilt you felt earlier was brutally replaced with regret. You wondered what you were thinking when you refused to take the two bills.

You ranted everything to your grandma, and she read you like an open book, from the letter to illegally selling fake luxury clothes. Hoping the wise old lady's words would reassure you, because the feeling of guilt had punished you enough, you were done with the mental anguish.

"you're so tense, sweetheart. Did you even bother drinking tea today?" the old lady asked. You confirmed you had in the morning. It didn't stop her from getting up from the couch to go to the kitchen, preparing for your evening tea time.

Shortly after filling your belly with warm black tea and mentally noting your grandma's words, you easily fell into a dreamless sleep, recharging your social battery.

With no dreams to stimulate your hyperfixation on deciphering hidden meanings, you were left with your grandma's words echoing throughout the morning: "darling, sometimes we make things harder than they need to be. Listen to your heart; it usually knows the way."

You reached the market, following the bright sun shining through the clouds, and quickly left after buying new tea bags. You hated buying things after they ran out. You liked feeling in control, but when you returned home, it was your grandmother who seemed out of control.

"ouch, I'm sorry!" the motorcycle girl kept apologizing in vain as your grandma pulled on her ear mercilessly.

What in the world was happening ?

You put your purse down, rushed to your grandma, and told her to stop hurting the auburn-haired girl.

Though you wondered why she had come back in the first place.

"It's the girl I told you about, my customer" you said, carefully prying your grandma's wrinkled hands away from the girl you hoped was innocent.

You were allergic to dog fur, so your grandma acted as a guardian whenever you left the house, and she took her job seriously.

The girl's ear was dark red!

Your grandmother approached your ear to whisper, "Sweetheart, did you see her jacket? She's part of a gang!" The motorcycle girl could totally hear your grandma's loud whisper; you were squinting your eyes as you felt her blowing so much air in your ear. She wasn't even whispering; she was creating a whole tornado in your eardrums. After convincing the old lady that she meant no harm, your grandma finally apologized.

"It's fine," the gangster lied, but she saw no point in arguing with someone who doesn't have all their head.

You opened your front door again, assuming the girl had come back for clothes. You let the poor girl enter before closing it behind you, leaving your grandma outside to go gardening.

"damn,she almost tore my ear off !"the gangster complained, touching her red ear.

"she's a little bit crazy, my bad," you replied empathetically, feeling bad for the motorcycle girl. "did you try to break in or something?"

You still wondered what happened before you arrived at the scene. The gangster read your expression and explained herself.

"why would I even—" Your assumption made the girl respond defensively. "I just drove here thinking you'd be here, but there was only your grandma, and she started to jump on me like I was a thief or something."

She had a tough appearance, but was it just superficial? You could only look at her like you look at the cover of a closed book; you couldn't read her.

The only thing you could do was apologize, but the motorcycle girl had another idea. She let go of her ear, which had become less red, and looked toward the direction where all your luxury clothes were secretly kept.

Didn't she get everything she wanted yesterday?

"maybe you could, you know... give me a free discount?" She didn't care to be bold; she just wanted to go straight to the point.

Words of apology meant nothing compared to actions.

"Is that what you came here for?" you asked, already imagining yourself going almost bankrupt like your dad.

There was no way she'd come all this way and let your grandma hurt her on purpose just so you could unfairly get her everything she wants, right?

The smirk on her face was full of malice; you already regretted riskily selling her fake luxury clothes.

The motorcycle girl reached into the same plastic bag you'd given her with the jacket she bought yesterday.

She was definitely going to threaten you with a gun or anything menacing!

"actually, no. I just put this in my washing machine, and when it came out, it had shrunk to the size of a kid," she sighed in disappointment, while you sighed in relief.

She took out the black jacket, which had been large before but was now poorly shortened.

Of course, those clothes were fake and too cheap to even withstand a good washing machine.

"maybe you should get shorter."

"my height is perfect, no thanks," she replied, following you behind. She noticed you were wearing a different frilly dress than yesterday, opting for blue and white colors like the weather of today.

Her eyes sparkled when you unlocked the room. It was as if you were unlocking a treasure chest.

She began shuffling through the clothes again, noticing there weren't any new ones, but it didn't stop her from searching through the vintage jackets your dad would wear.

you stood on the doorway hoping she didnt mean it when she wanted to get a free discount when she was literally willing to overpay yesterday

But the proud look on her face when she put on the same jacket over her black wife beater she bought yesterday made you feel hopeless.

"do I look... okay?" You advised her to take a jacket larger than the one she originally considered, so it would shrink to her size after washing.

"my grandma would definitely beat you up like this."

She took it as a 'yes',that comment made her smirk but she didnt smile refusing to break character. That is, until you brought up the letter.

"you know, you kind of write like a child," you said as you folded the extra-large jacket. She chuckled at that, fully aware of her handwriting.

"what do you mean? people say I write like a doctor," she replied, making you wheeze. She didn't appreciate you laughing AT her and quickly looked for a piece of paper nearby.

She spotted one on a piece of furniture, took out a pen from her pocket, scribbled something quickly, and handed it back to you.

"the bill I gave you yesterday is fake," you read, the quirky but neat letters confirming your suspicion that she wrote like an elementary schooler. You lifted your eyes to find her smirking, amused by how easily you'd been fooled.

Did she just scam you ?

After constantly telling her to leave, the gangster assured you she was just kidding and even gave you 2000 bucks for the jacket she had just bought. You were still annoyed by the joke the girl had pulled, but your annoyance turned to panic when you realized something.

When you took the bills the girl gave you, you realized you had lost your purse!

Your blue and white bow purse that you had brought to buy tea bags that morning.

At first, you were in denial. Maybe you just forgot to put it back in its place, in your closet. But then you remembered dropping it outside when you saw your grandma attacking the gangster. Panic set in when you rushed outside and didn't find it.

The worst part was that it didn't disappear alone. Without your grandma in sight to guard the house, it was evident that some wicked person had seized the chance to steal it!

Maybe things would have been different if you had let your grandma tear the girl's ear off...

#ellie fluff #ellie x fem reader #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie x reader #Spotify

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wardenparker · 1 year

Text

Down the Rabbit Hole - ch 4

Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

When Jack accidentally shoots a civilian on a mission he takes on not only the guilt of the man’s death, but inherits his soulmate as well. To you, it’s a dream job with more perks than you can imagine - but for Jack it’s a nightmarish complication. Even more so when he starts to develop feelings.

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 10.8k Warnings: *Blanket warnings - mentions of deceased spouse, a lot of food and alcohol consumption, family recipes, age gap, cursing.* Making out, a bit of groping, heavy flirting. Nothing extreme here. Summary: The day after your outing with Jack things take an unexpected turn, including a visit from Champ’s wife and a change in plans for your cousin’s wedding. Notes: That pesky love triangle is rearing its head defiantly in this chapter, gang!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15 ~ Epilogue

Jack opens the door to the dining room, a bit nervous as he comes into what he’s come to consider ‘your space’. He knows that he’s blown kind of hot and cold with you, but he wants to see you. Needs to see you, if he’s honest with himself. After a restless night, he’s here. A crate of the new whiskey and a crate of apples from a nearby farm he knows as an offering to your culinary expertise, rolled in behind him on a delivery dolly.

You’ve been in your own little world - singing along to the music playing through Bluetooth speakers situated on the steel counters and dancing around - while you whip up two batches of icing to go with the red velvet cake that you baked. Cream cheese frosting and whipped chocolate ganache are the contenders for topping off the classic sweet, and you’re going to give Diana a call to come do a taste test as soon as they’re ready. Or you were, until you turned around to put a bowl of chocolate frosting on the main counter and saw Jack in the doorway. “H—hey.” You flash him a grin, feeling your cheeks heat at the sight of him all decked out in his suit jacket and tie with his Stetson.

“Hey, sugar.” He hates interrupting your little dance party in the kitchen. Smirking slightly as he had watched your hips sway in time to the beat. “Not interrupting anything time sensitive, am I?”

“Not at all.” Even if he was, you wouldn’t tell him. He had been friendly but distant for the rest of the night last night, helping you bring things in the house when he dropped you off but politely declining the cup of coffee you had offered. The man was a menace, leaking into your dreams and permeating every thought afterward. “You’re just in time for the first cakes to be frosted, but I…I actually made something else this morning. You’re the first to try them, if you don’t mind being a Guinea pig.”

“Always willing to be your test subject, sugar.” Jack assures you, inhaling deeply and groaning at the sugary sweetness of the air. He’s starting to think it’s your scent. “Whatcha got for me?” He asks, shuffling closer and smirking as he peers into your bowls.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” With a cheeky grin in his direction, you nod to the hand truck he carried in behind him.

Jack turns around and grins when he looks back at you. “This here are gifts.” He declares, picking up the crate of apples and setting it down on a clear surface of the prep tables. “Man down the road was sellin’ apples. Figured you could use ‘em somehow. Wanted to help him out and they looked good.”

“They look gorgeous.” The crate of orchard fresh fruit is basically crying out to be loved and used, and you pick one up to bite into the flesh immediately. “And they’re perfectly ripe,” you groan happily at the juicy sweetness. “You have to try one of these.” It’s still in your hand when you dash over to the far counter to retrieve the tray of cookies that you made this morning. “And one of these, too.”

"What are all these?" He asks, not caring - he will eat anything you offer him - he purely wants to know so he can tell what you are putting on the menu. "They smell good."

"I was thinking about what you said yesterday...about how you only like shortbread that has jam or in a sandwich cookie." The little Linzer-inspired cookies on the tray have beautifully fluted edges and perfect stars cut out of the top cookie with a layer of powdered sugar decorating the top, but the little purple flecks in the cookies are still visible. "These are lemon lavender shortbread with lemon curd to sandwich them together."

"Sounds fancy." He hums, looking over the tray and choosing a cookie that looks to have the most powdered sugar on top. He inspects it and admires the craftsmanship you put into a simple cookie that is anything but. "Looks delicious."

"I know they're a little unusual, but I made them for my sister's baby shower a couple of years ago and I never would have thought to use lemon curd between the layers if you hadn't mentioned sandwich cookies yesterday." In truth, they're one of your favourite things in the world, but you don't know how lavender cookies will go over with cowboys. If the flavours aren't going to be popular, you'll just make them in your own kitchen at home and be very happy with enjoying it in private. "If you don't like it, that's okay. I just always need you to be honest when you taste something."

Jack nods seriously and takes a bite of his cookie, closing his eyes and chewing silently. Contemplating the flavors as seriously as he would testing a batch of whiskey. "Hmmm." He nods to himself, taking another bite and munching on it again. "I— the lavender is a little heavy for my taste, but I can see this going with a spiked sweet tea." He opens his eyes and looks down at it. "Bourbon sweet tea."

"Pull back on the lavender? I can do that." Somehow you knew - or maybe hoped - that you could trust his palate, and you dash to the refrigerator to pull out the pitcher of sweet tea you have stashed there and the open bottle of bourbon on the counter to mix some drinks and see if he's right.

"Just a smidge, for me." Jack tells you. "But I'm sure others will like it just like it is." Jack watches as you pour out the drinks, one for him and one for you. He takes it and immediately takes a sip before taking another bite of the cookie. "Yep, holy hell in a handbasket." Jack whistles, looking at the cookie and the drink with fresh eyes. "You gotta try that combo, sugar."

A bite of a cookie and a sip of your drink have you grinning almost immediately, doing a little happy dance in place as you realize that the subtle floral notes in the bourbon are amplified by the cookie and the tartness of the curd tempers the sweetness in the tea. It's an absolutely perfect combination and you're on the verge of giggles because of it. "Holy shit," you look up at him again with bright, excited eyes. "That's incredible."

"Now, with that sweet tea, you don't have to do anything to the cookie." Jack tells you. "It's balanced just like that - at least it is to me."

"I'll have to put a note on the menu that they're recommended as a pairing with the spiked sweet tea." You had already been planning on putting that particular drink on the menu, but now it's mandatory. The combination is too good to pass up. "And it's one hundred percent thanks to you."

“Nothing to it sugar.” Jack winks. “I know my whiskey and I know my sweets.”

"Do you have time to hang out?" If he's just dropped by for a few minutes you'll understand, but the jittery eagerness in you that just doesn't seem to be satiable hopes that's not the case. You'll take every single moment of time with Jack that you can get.

“Now, sugar, I haven’t even gotten to my other gift.” He pouts, secretly pleased that you want him to stay. “What kind of man would I be if I deprived such a gorgeous lady of my company when she’s wantin’ it?”

"You brought me something else?" Only the crate of apples had been visible over the side of the counter that he was standing behind, and you raise an eyebrow at him. "Besides the gift of your generous company, I mean?"

Chuckling, Jack bends down and picks up the crate of whiskey he had pinched from the warehouse. “I brought you some of the new whiskey line we were talking about. So you can see how you like it.”

“Oooo!” Practically squealing when he puts it down on the counter, you slip around the other side to steal a tight hug of gratitude. “Thank you, thank you for this. I’m going to have to make a study of this one to get the tasting notes right.” Something in the back of your mind is saying to try pairing it with the apples he brought, but you’re far too distracted being pressed momentarily against his body for that thought to continue.

Electricity practically crackles in the air when your eyes meet his and Jack grunts a small, nearly unheard curse. It’s wrong, it should not be happening, but the voice of reason that is normally screaming in Jack’s mind is disturbingly silent as he leans in. Pressing you in to the counter and reaching up to adjust his hat so he can kiss you.

That tightness in your chest was so individual - you had thought. The butterflies in your belly and lump in your throat, a problem you would have to deal with on your own. You were convinced they were isolated feelings until his eyes met yours. Instead you see nothing but desire reflected back at you and the delicate flutter of his long lashes before you both shut your eyes. His kiss is so much of his own personality - brash and insistent yet somehow also gentle and coaxing; and his hands mirror the feeling with one gripping your hip tightly and the other softly cradling your opposite cheek. It’s the most achingly sweet and intoxicating kiss you’ve ever had in your life and you just…surrender. There’s no point in pretending you aren’t completely in his thrall, so you just wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and soak up every second of affection he’s willing to give you. You can analyze it later. For now, you’re just going to luxuriate in how startlingly right it feels.

Once his lips touch yours, it's like a fuse has been lit. Or a countdown started. Inevitably working down to the moment that Jack is going to lose control with you. The moment building between you like an organic thing, taking on a life of its own as he presses into you more, his tongue becoming slightly more insistent as he swallows your moans down.

You open up for him instantly, never intending to be coy or mask how much you want to be on the receiving end of his affection. Maybe other people might turn their noses down at you for it or call you easy, but you’ve never believed in playing games. Especially not right now. Not like this. Not with your hips shoved up against the steel counter and your fingers clawing at his clothes to drag him impossibly closer to you while your tongue dances with his to a beat all their own.

With a willing partner, and you are obviously willing, Jack takes control. His real job as an agent is good for making sure that Jack as the ability to throw a grown man twice his size so manhandling you up onto your pristine counter is no mean feat and he does it with a small grunt and grin against your lips.

It’s the first time you disconnect from him since he started kissing you, and it only happens for a moment, but you yelp in surprise when he picks you up and giggle gleefully when you land right on the counter where he has determined you belong. Shaky hands remove his hat from his head, leaving it on the counter beside you and letting you dive back in for more of that fervent press of his lips to yours. Every pleased sound you absorb from him seems to roll down your spine and make you that much needier, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

He's never been a shy man and he doesn't start now. His hands roaming over your body in a way that if you weren't amenable to his affections, he would be getting slapped. Squeezing your ass and pulling you against him as he breaks away from your tantalizing lips and starts to kiss down along your jaw.

“Shit, Jack…” His name is barely a gasp, pushed out of you all at once when he tips his head to the side and finds out exactly how sensitive the tender skin on your neck is. Your fingers might as well be claws now, digging into his back while your knees bracket his hips and squeeze. Whatever the fuck caused this absolute snap in his composure, you want to pinpoint it exactly so you can repeat it as often as humanly possible.

His mind is filled with you, unable to think of anything else other than you and touching you. He groans and his teeth nip at your skin. Chuckling when you shiver and gasp, his mouth working its way south.

“Would’ve worn a f—fucking dress if I’d known you’d come by horny,” you pant, nipping at his earlobe before he continues to move down your shoulders, pushing your sweater off your shoulders with ease.

Jack chuckles, moving to your shirt and under it so he can unhook your bra. Wanting to duck his head under your shirt and pop your nipple in his mouth.

Something in your brain short circuits when his thumb swipes the underside of your breasts, a pitiful whimper dripping from your lips as your head drops back just for a second. There’s no way you can let this go by without watching him, though, and one of your hands threads into his hair to encourage him to explore as much of your skin as he wants.

He has your tit in his hand, his mouth diving down to suck on it, just to hear you cry out his name when a wrench is thrown into the mix. The door in the front of the building opens. “Hello?” Jack lurches back from you like he’s on fire and his eyes widen at what just almost happened. “I—” he backs up, nearly tripping over the hand cart and reaches over to grab his hat. “Get dressed. I’ll— I’ll stall.”

“Shit.” He pulls back from you with an unreadably wide-eyed expression and you aren’t much better, frantically pulling your shirt down and trying to get your bra back into place all in one graceless motion. The fact that you were in the process of having your clothes pulled off in the kitchen of your damn restaurant is either completely inappropriate or just a christening for coworker trysts yet to come, but either way you’re going to have extremely stern words for whoever is out there.

“Hey hun!” The bright and cheerful voice of Diana rings out through the space and Jack bites back a curse. She’s probably more eagle-eyed than her husband and she will notice kiss swollen lips and flustering bodies.

“Shit.” He hisses quietly, turning around and fleeing through the double doors to greet her and give you time to fix yourself.

“Well you’re not who I was expecting to see.” Diana smiles widely when Jack comes out of the kitchen, only raising an eyebrow when she notices he always-immaculate hair is mussed up right before his hat goes back on. “Visiting our new friend, Jack?”

"Just dropping off some of the new label for her to try along with some fresh apples." Jack tells her smoothly, bypassing any conversation about kissing or how he had to adjust so his jeans weren't tenting before coming through the doors.

“That’s very generous of you.” Nobody devours mystery novels and detective thrillers the way Diana Rogers does without developing a few observational skills, and the crumpled lapels of his jacket combined with the way he won’t meet her eyes, and she glances at his lips to be greeted with the exact sight she hoped to see. After all, she knows who and what you are to him. Diana chuckles quietly. “So the kiss was a thank you for the delivery?”

It's like the wind has been pushed out of his sails and Jack's shoulders slump at being caught. He looks back at the door with his hand rubbing the back of his hot neck as he blows out a breath. He had lost control. He had done the dumbest thing he could and touched you. The heat of your skin tingles against his fingers, as if your touch is already muscle memory. "I—" He swallows, closing his eyes. "Lapse in judgement." He murmurs quietly, the walls going back up and common sense taking control of his thoughts again. He can't do this with you. "Tell her— tell her I had to go, okay?"

“Jack—” Instantly regretting saying something, Diana watches him hustle out the front door with a frustrated sigh. That man is as dear to her as her own flesh and blood, but he can’t see past the end of his own nose sometimes. It was maddening to watch before, but now that there’s another person involved it’s worse. Even more so because she genuinely likes you. And who knows how you’ll feel about Jack running out the door without a word like a scared, spurned puppy.

Jack hits the side of his Bronco when he gets to it, frustrated at himself. "Shit!" He groans, knowing that he's fucked up royally. He can't do this with you, to you. So, frazzled, he opens the door and climbs inside. He needs to talk to Tequila and ask for a favor.

******

“Diana! What a nice surprise.” You’re all but glowing when she walks in the door, expecting Jack to stroll back in behind her with that cheeky look of self-satisfaction on his face that he would most certainly have earned. Your whole body is on fire - and if it weren’t your boss’s wife that just waltzed into the kitchen, you’d be shooing her out again immediately.

"Hey hun." Diana smiles brightly at you despite being annoyed at Jack. She's going to witness your face fall in disappointment and she hates it. "I came to see if you wanted some company and perhaps help?"

“That’s so sweet of you. I was actually going to call you later once the red velvet cakes were frosted.” And after Jack left, but that doesn’t need to be said out loud. He must be composing himself in the dining room. Not that you’re necessarily surprised - the insistent bulge in his jeans had been pressing against your thigh barely two minutes ago.

"Oh, you are just so sweet." Diana hates that your eyes shift behind her towards the door. Expecting Jack to come through them with the eager anticipation of a sweetheart waiting on her beau. "I know that it's disappointing, but perhaps you might want my company now, since Jack had to run off? Something about an emergency?"

Shit. You can feel your shoulders tense, lips pressing together in a firm line so you don’t frown and chest tight so you don’t sigh disappointedly or something equally melodramatic. It’s more of Jack’s hot-and-cold bullshit, apparently. Just when you thought it was obvious which way he was going to go. “O-of course.” You force yourself to nod, plastering a bright smile on your face so she doesn’t see you crumble. “Pull up a chair and I’ll pour you a glass of tea.”

She wants to wring his neck, or drag him back in here by his ear and demand that he fix the stricken look on your face. But she also knows that it will make Jack dig in his heels harder. "Maybe there is an emergency." She suggests softly, wanting you to believe that it's not you. Because it isn't. All of this is on Jack Daniels.

“Maybe.” You offer Diana a half smile before moving to the refrigerator. She’s observant enough to have obviously figured out that you have something to be embarrassed about, and that just makes you all the more embarrassed.

“Sometimes cowboys want to make you throw a lasso around them and knock ‘em upside the head.” She tells you as she moves towards the crates of apples and whiskey. It was a sweet gesture and one all done on his own. “I know that for a fact.”

“It’s my fault.” The logic doesn’t track, but you feel guilty, so it must be. You shrug a little, putting the glass of cold tea down in front of her. “Getting your hopes up after knowing a man for a week is schoolgirl stuff.”

The only reason she doesn’t reassure you that you have a reason to be drawn to Jack is because it’s not her place. “Seems like it’s not all unfounded.” She hums. “Just— Jack has a lot of past trauma. I have a feeling he’s wrestlin’ with it.”

“I’m not asking anything of him.” And you barely ever had on any front, which is why this whole thing was so frustrating. It makes your heart ache in a way that is completely new to you and makes you feel like he’s already burrowed into your insides before you could stop it. “I wouldn’t pressure him. He—he told me about his wife. It would be a shitty thing to do, to expect anything from someone who’s still in mourning.”

“Abigail Daniels has been dead for nearly twenty years.” Diana tells you bluntly. “Jack carries around his grief like an old dog with a mangy bone.”

“She was his soulmate.” And you’re not, you remind yourself harshly. Even if it’s a nice daydream to have. “Some people are only ever with their soulmate for their entire lives. It’s not fair to want him to jump into something just—” You blow out a breath, deciding to retrieve the layers of red velvet cake from the fridge and start icing. Maybe it will help calm you down. “Just because I have a crush…”

“He’s had his share of dalliances.” She admits, probably more than what were good for him. “He’s a red-blooded man with needs. But every woman he’s been with has known upfront what to expect and I’ve never seen him skedaddle off like his pants were on fire. You scare him.”

“Hell if I know why.” It’s not like you’re a scary person. Or at least no one else has been scared of you this same way. “It is what it is, I guess. I’m certainly not going to force a man to spend time with me.”

“Have some patience with him. He’s a man, bless his heart.” Diana knows that there will be more ups and downs before all of this plays out just because your soulmate is so damned hardheaded.

You smirk, stifling a laugh, and shake your head at the phrase. Enough time was spent with your grandmother throughout your life to know that ‘bless his heart’ is not a compliment. “I’ll call him later to apologize,” you decide. He’s supposed to be spending the weekend with you in Boston and the last thing you want is for that whole trip to be awkward.

“No, you won’t.” Diana tells you sternly. “You did nothing wrong.” She doesn’t even know what happened beyond the two of you kissing but she has a feeling that Jack couldn’t help himself. “That boy needs to apologize. And you should make him grovel a bit before you forgive him.”

“Did he say something?” The motions of icing a cake are soothing - getting out the cake stand and a cardboard pad, giving the giant bowl of chocolate icing a turn before putting a little on the pad to stick the first layer of cake to - it’s all a series of comfortable motions that your body has memorized.

“Just for me to tell you that he had to go.” She won’t bury the knife. You don’t need to hear about a ‘lapse of judgement’, especially when you don’t know why he is fighting this so hard.

There’s no need for a verbal response, not when the look on your face does all the talking for you. You just nod, focusing all of your attention on the task in front of you, and decide that when you call Jack later you’ll let him out of the commitment he made for this weekend. He’s obviously changed his mind about whatever spurred him on today, and you don’t want to spend time with a man who regrets you.

Diana moves over to help you, un-crating the bottles of whiskey and holds one up. “Do you want to try this now or wait until you are happier?”

“I’m fine, Diana. Honestly.” The fact that you feel heartbroken is just silly, you tell yourself, and put two glasses down on the counter in front of her. “Let’s try it. No reason not to.”

She studies you for a moment before she nods and starts to break the seal of the bottle so she can pour healthy measures into a glass. "I'm surprised that Jack brought you all this." She hums as she sets down the bottle and picks up the glass to smell the liquor. "It's under lock and key right now. Champ hasn't even brought home a bottle of it yet."

“I wanted to name the restaurant The Rabbit-Hole,” you explain, hating the ache of knowing Jack had done something so sweet and potentially broken rules to surprise you. “He thought since this is called Red Rabbit, I could use it in some recipes or pairings.” It downright makes you want to cry, if you’re honest with yourself, but you won’t do that in front of Diana.

“That boy.” Diana shakes her head and shoots you a grin. “I swear I don’t know if I need to pull his head out of his ass or shove my foot up it.”

“He doesn’t owe me anything.” The insistent and nagging need to defend him, to protect him, is right there on the surface even though you have no idea why. “We just hung out a few times. That’s all.”

Diana hides her smile behind her glass, happy to see that you are so sweet as to protect a man who obviously hurt your feelings. She wonders if you know that it must be your soulmate connection. “It smells delicious. What do you think?”

“It’s fruitier than I expected.” Of course, until right now, you hadn’t known anything about the line except that it was aged in applewood barrels. You had assumed that that was why Jack had decided to bring the apples with it. “It smells like the mature older sibling of the applejack we used to buy from the farmers in town growing up.” It’s such a small-town thing to do - to find the one employee working in the local apple and pumpkin farm every year who was willing to sell flasks of applejack whiskey to the underage high school kids. “And sweet. Like…maple?”

Diana tastes it and tilts her head as she swishes it around in her mouth. “Not maple.” She narrows her eyes and thinks. “More cane? Raw cane sugar?” She asks you, trying to confirm.

“Is that what that is?” She’s right, it’s not maple, but it has an earthier flavor than table sugar does without going all the way to molasses. “This would be amazing in caramel.” The thoughts are already forming, swirling around in your head while you figure out what flavours will work best with the unique liquor.

“And with that crate of apples.” Diana muses, looking towards the box. “He must have stopped by old Junior’s place and begged a box off him. Man is stingy with his ‘babies’ as he calls his trees.”

“He said somebody was just selling them by the side of the road…” He wouldn’t have done that for you, would he? Make such a lovely and sweet gesture and then take off like his ass was on fire?

Diana snorts and walks over to the crate and picks up an apple. “Nope.” She shakes her head and looks back at you. “These ambrosia apples are only available out of one farm in the area and Junior’s a son of a bitch about selling them.” She tells you with a grin. “Jack must have done some sweet talking or opened up his wallet to get these. The man wouldn’t sell me a bag to make fruit salad for my son’s birthday last year.”

“Oh.” When your shoulders finally slump, you pick up the apple you had taken a bite of earlier and have another nibble, letting the taste of the bourbon roll around it in your mouth. Whatever you do, it has to be this bottle and these apples. “I—I guess…I guess he must have changed his mind about me, then.” What the hell other explanation could there be?

“I think Jack is fighting what he wants.” Diana murmurs softly, setting the apple back in the crate and reaching out to stroke your shoulder. “He believes he doesn’t deserve it.” That is the truth, since his guilt over killing your original soulmate is hanging over his head like a shroud. It’s her opinion he needs to tell you and get it out in the open, but that was just her.

“There’s no reason to. It’s not like I have a soulmate that’s going to pop out of nowhere and try to complicate things, or anything like that.” No, that definitely would not happen. Not with all your marks gone and second soulmates being an impossible fairy tale that people told widows and widowers to try to comfort them. “I mean honestly, I came here with no intention of restarting that part of my life, only to have two different men flirt with me right from the get go and then within a week it all dies down and slips away. What was I even expecting? For some…magical change in appeal? Like I just needed a change of scenery and suddenly I could have my pick of men? That’s just…ridiculous.”

“Two?” Diana blinks for a second before she settles into a small smile. “Tex, of course.” She murmurs to herself, shaking her head. “I don’t think you have to worry about the interest not being there.”

“I should be focusing on the restaurant anyway.” Anything else is just a complication, and complications will just cloud your mind. At least, that’s what your dad would say if he were here.

She sighs softly, nodding at your comment even though she doesn’t agree with it. “Whatever you think is best for you.”

“I’m sorry you had to walk into the middle of this.” While you’ve been talking and sipping, your hands have been busy working. The first red velvet cake nearly has its crumb coat of chocolate frosting done. “It was never my intention to create any kind of workplace drama here.”

“I’m sorry that I interrupted.” Diana huffs at you. “Things might have been vastly different if you hadn’t had someone come in.”

“Maybe not for the better, though.” You can just imagine how it would have turned out now. Your clothes strewn all over the kitchen and your attraction satiated, only for Jack to turn away after he’d gotten what he came for. You’d only be even more miserable.

All she can do is hum, not sure how Jack would have reacted, although it was probably better than right now. The sound of the front door opens again and she can hear the sound of boots thumping on the hardwoods, heading towards the kitchen with a eager determinate stride.

Boot steps make your ears perk, but you swear you’re trying not to show any interest whatsoever until there’s a knock on the kitchen door and it swings open to admit Tex’s imposing frame. You honestly can’t be sure if you’re relieved or disappointed, but the natural smile that comes to your lips is a definite clue. “Looks like everybody’s looking for sweets today,” you observe, trying to get a little of your own teasing tone back again.

“Darlin’ I’m always down for some sweets.” Tex throws you a wink and hooks his fingers into his belt loop. “Was wonderin’ if I could talk to you?”

“Sure.” The second after you say it, you get the feeling that he’s asking for privacy more than anything else, and Diana seems to sense it as well.

“I’ll get out of your hair,” she offers, smooth as silk. “You call me later if you want to talk some more, okay honey?”

“Um—yeah. I really appreciate it. Thanks, Diana.” Her hand on your arm is a hair’s breadth away from being the most maternal hug in the world, and you pack up a few of the lemon lavender shortbread cookies for her to take home to Champ and Bobby before she slips out the door as unceremoniously as she came.

Tequila nods towards Diana respectfully as she takes her leave, waiting until he hears the door open out in the front before he lets out a breath and turns towards you. "So, uh—" He blows out a breath and grins at you. He knows you might not be happy but he wants to make sure that you have a blast. "Want to talk to you about something...if you've got a minute."

“That sounds ominous.” He’s never delivered a single piece of bad news to you, though, and never been anything but smiles. You just hope that that isn’t about to change. “Is this a seat and some tea kind of talk, or are we contemplating something serious over a whiskey?”

"I'm hopin' it's more a of 'I made your day' kinda talk." He admits, ducking his head down slightly and looking at you underneath his lashes before he straightens slightly. "Jack just came to tell me that he can't attend the wedding this weekend with you." He explains. "Something about an emergency that is pulling him away - he looked really upset about missin' it - but I was hopin' you would let me fill in and escort you to the wedding?" He asks hopefully. "We can have some fun."

There is no way in hell that Jack looked upset after running out of here like a bat out of hell, you decide, and you wonder if the older man had told his friend the reason he was chickening out of his promise. It’s not that you don’t want to spend time with Tex. Honestly, it’s kind of the opposite. He’s a sweet guy who likes to have a good time and is always admirable and ready for good conversation. He’d be a perfect choice if you weren’t upset about Jack tucking tail - so you tilt your head at him and remind yourself to smile. Tex is just being nice, and it would probably be an extremely bad idea for you to read more into it. “Well that all depends,” You tell him, leaning back against the counter. “Can you dance?”

"Depends on what kind of dancin' you want." Tex admits with a wink. "I'm not good at the fancy ones. But slow dancin' or having fun? I'm better than Jack any day of the week." Jack hadn't really explained, just said that he couldn't make it to the wedding and asked him if he would step in and make sure that you had a good time. Knowing that he had a crush on you. At least he thinks Jack knows he likes you. He should.

“And meeting my family once wasn’t enough to warn you off ever spending time with them again?” When he flew back to New Hampshire with you to help you pack, he had gotten treated to a full family dinner at your favourite Tex Mex restaurant and your father had laughed mercilessly about ‘taking Tex for Tex Mex’. To his credit, the cowboy hadn’t seemed to mind and it had given everyone else a good giggle.

He gives a half shrug of his shoulders and grins at you again. “What can I say? I’m a masochist for a pretty girl.” He drawls.

It stings somehow, almost bittersweet, knowing that an hour ago there was someone else here who might have been prepared to say something similar until he decided to tuck tail and run. Still - Tex is a good guy and has never given you any reason to doubt his good intentions. “I’d love for you to come.” You’ll have fun with him. You know you will. And just maybe you won’t be run out on this time.

******

The reception is in full swing, Tex adjusting the velvet lapel of his tuxedo and holds the laughably delicate champagne glass in his hand and wishes that he had a crystal cut glass of whiskey. Being here with you is worth the commercial flight, the crowded plane, and he understood why you didn’t want to take the Statesman jet. Worried about the way it would look and misuse of company property. Since he knew you don’t know about the intelligence portion of the company, he had let you book a flight on Delta.

What he hadn't told you was that he had called the hotel, transferring your room for the night to his own credit card and upgrading the room to a suite for luxurious comfort and privacy.

You'd taken your time washing the plane smell off and carefully covering your tattoo like you always do for anything formal, then making sure your hair and makeup were as close to perfect as you could manage on your own before getting into that beautiful dress. The tie and kerchief that matched your dress went to Tex tonight instead of Jack, and honestly he has been an absolute dream of a wedding date. Friendly with every elderly relative and murmuring jokes in your ear when cousins get snooty, your hand is looped around his arm now as you sip champagne and watch far too many friends and family members jump up for the Chicken Dance. No power in the universe could force you out of your seat for this craziness. No thank you.

“Ten dollars says you catch the bouquet.” Tequila leans over and whispers in your ear, using any excuse he can to murmur against your skin. He hadn’t missed the way you shiver slightly when he does that.

"Who says I'm even getting in on that brawl?" You huff and roll your eyes at him for effect. Anything that makes him laugh is good in your book.

He chuckles and shakes his head. “Darlin’ a brawl is always a good time. Especially when it’s against your cousins.”

"You just want to see if anybody throws an elbow." Knowing your cousins it very well might happen, and now you kind of want to see it for yourself if you're honest. "It'll really annoy Paris if she doesn't catch it," you laugh, subtly pointing out one particular cousin of yours in her bright fuchsia bridesmaid dress.

“Oh, you’ll win against her.” Tequila predicts, smirking slightly. “Guaranteed. Tell ya what? You join the ladies for the bouquet toss and I’ll join the men for the garter.”

"Alright, but using your hat is cheating." It's so nice that the night hasn't been awkward at all. Nothing feels forced or like you're trying too hard to tiptoe around uncomfortable topics. This is comfortable and flirty, and you grin up at Tex. "Is there a prize if either of us win?"

His matching grin is daring and he leans in. “A kiss?” He offers, knowing it might be too much, but he’s going to shoot his shot. You look gorgeous and he’s drawn to you more and more as the night goes on.

You swallow, knowing that the last time that you kissed someone it got very heated and ended very badly. It's not that you don't want to. Not at all that you don't want to. Tex is a great catch and ridiculously attractive. And if it's awkward, you blame it on the champagne and never speak of it again. "Alright." You nod after a second's hesitation. "You got yourself a deal, cowboy."

With a grin more powerful than the sun, Tex nods quickly. “It’s gonna happen.” He promises you, setting his champagne down and immediately scanning the reception area as he scopes out his competition for this garter catch. Doing recon as if it were a mission.

“Oh, so you’re going to be the one throwing elbows?” That makes you laugh, at least, and you finish your drink before setting the glass down on a passing waiter’s tray.

“Whatever it takes to win.” He admits with a sly grin. “‘Specially when the prize is so worth it.” He’s felt like you’ve warmed up to him. Your fingers lingering on his arm a little longer and your smile a bit brighter. He knows that you’ve got a little thing for Jack, but he’s here and Jack missed out.

“Well, don’t knock anybody over or anything. Nobody gets rewarded for bad sportsmanship.” Flustered by the whole thing, you bite your lip and turn back to watch the last few seconds of your family flapping around like idiots until the song comes to an end. Are you flattered? Absolutely. But also a little nervous.

Tex chuckles, watching you fluster and squirm slightly. He’s aware that you might not be as interested in him as he is in you, but that happens. He’ll kiss you when he catches that garter and then if you don’t want it to go any farther, it won’t. But he wants to see where this goes, hoping it might lead to something beautiful.

The DJ gleefully announces the bouquet toss a few seconds later, and you laugh softly when your cousins flock onto the dance floor like seagulls after one, lone French fry on the beach. “Here goes nothing.” You decide, out loud, and give his arm a squeeze before heading directly into the thick of the group. Your sister will tease you mercilessly for it later when she finds out about the bet, but that’s okay. Tonight has been fun - you’re just hoping it stays that way.

Tequila hums in amusement as the women gather, watching you look back at him and roll your eyes in annoyance. You have been on the receiving end of plenty of envious looks because of the dress you are wearing and maybe because of him, but there is a definite competitive air around the group as they try to nudge you towards the outskirts.

If you had a smaller family this might be less hysterical, but the sheer volume of single cousins guarantees that no one can have a single clue who’s actually going to catch the obnoxiously bright pink bouquet. It’s Cassie’s absolute right to enjoy the attention on her wedding day, and she’s encouraging the competition from the other side of the dance floor, so you just shake your head and laugh, preparing to give a good old college try but not intending to turn the whole thing into a mosh pit.

It’s almost humorous, the gasp and screeching that goes up from the crowd as the bouquet lets loose into the air and starts its arch over the crowd. Watching the hands go up and reach for it. Even though it’s far too high for them to reach.

This moment might be most athletic your cousin Cassie has ever been, tossing her flowers out into the living sea of eager hands. The shrieking is ear piercing, but makes you laugh more than anything. This is a group of women who firmly believe that a bouquet of flowers will predict their future and you just can’t take that kind of thing seriously. Which makes it all the funnier when your fingers snag on the large Barbie-style bow adorning the bouquet’s handle and you tighten your fist to make sure it doesn’t slip through your grip.

Tex immediately sticks two fingers in his mouth and whistles out happily before starting to clap and holler as you keep a firm hand on to bouquet. Grinning like a loon and winking when you look over at him.

There’s a collective groan and general whining of discontent from your cousins, with one even remarking how you barely know Tex so it isn’t faaaaair! But you laugh it off as you walk back to him, wiggling the flowers in his direction with a smirk. “No one can ever say I’m not competitive,” you tell him with a giggle.

“You sure are.” Tex hums, grinning as he reaches out and strokes your arm softly. “If looks could kill right now, you’d be havin’ your stone set.” He chuckles, looking over the sour looks of every one of the other ladies as they disperse reluctantly.

“Now let’s go piss off the men, too.” Tossing him a wink, You nod to the dance floor where all the single men are now gathering to catch the garter. It’s a tradition you genuinely don’t understand, but for the moment it’s fun. Plus your heart is beating just a tiny bit faster wondering what kind of a kisser Tex will be.

Ambling over to the crowd, Tequila seems relaxed, but he’s tensed slightly under the cool veneer of his tuxedo. The skills that make him a great Statesman agent going to make sure that he is the one that catches the garter.

For the most part the men are less enthusiastic about the whole ‘next to get married’ thing, but they are all competitive and eyeing Tex like he’s the greatest threat to their existence they’ve ever known, which just makes you cackle with private laughter.

It’s a little more suggestive than the bouquet toss, everyone whistling when the groom’s hands slide under the bride’s dress to pull the garter off. He stands, holding it up like it’s a prize and grinning before he twirls it around his finger and launches it into the crowd.

It’s honestly pretty entertaining to watch the guys acting like they’re going to start knocking each other over while your divorced brother rolls his eyes on the sidelines, but the highlight is how horribly indignant the groan is through the crowd when Tex’s arm goes up and easily catches the little fabric missile in his large palm. He doesn’t even hide his happiness, turning around and smugly grinning at you. Waggling his brows as the other men slunk away grumbling under their breaths.

The DJ comes over the sound system again, calling for you to join your date on the dance floor so the winners of the two tosses can share a dance, and you chuckle at the pageantry of the whole thing. “It’s either a victory lap around the dance floor or putting us on display for my cousins who are planning bodily harm,” you decide, taking his hand regardless once you’re in front of him.

Tequila snorts and looks around the room with a cocky grin. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” He promises, looking back at you and giving you a small wink. “Enjoy the moment, darlin’. Every one of them are jealous of you.”

The song is nothing you recognize, but you move into his arms easily. It’s slow and melodic and obviously meant to set a mood, and you find yourself getting more and more nervous. With no desire to fuck things up between the two of you, you also have to admit that you don’t really know what actually is between you at all.

He can feel the nerves pouring off of you and his grip on you tightens slightly. “Relax, darlin’.” He murmurs, taking mercy on you. “We don’t have to kiss here in front of everyone and we don’t have to kiss at all.” He allows, knowing that if you aren’t into it, he’s not going to insist.

“No, I want to.” You assure him with an immediacy that surprises both of you. It makes your ears and cheeks burn and you clear your throat self-consciously. “Maybe not…not in front of everyone. But…I’m just nervous.” You sigh a little, shrugging against his chest. “I’m not very good at this, can you tell?”

“I don’t believe that for a minute.” Tex hums, his fingers at your waist stroking your side gently. “Maybe just out of practice.”

“Maybe.” The confidence in his tone makes you want that to be the case, and you turn your arm slightly so that he’s now holding your hand against his chest instead of holding it out. It’s more intimate, but not in a pushy way. “Maybe it’s just that I don’t have great luck.”

“Luck is what you make it.” Tex tells you seriously. “You can say you had a string of failed relationships. Or you can say you learned what you won’t tolerate.” He murmurs, looking into your eyes and he wishes that he had some inkling of what you are thinking.

“I guess I’ll have to think about what I learned, then.” Thinking of them as failures certainly hadn’t helped at all, and the idea that there are lessons to learn and room to grow is a comfort now that you have no soulmate and an amorphous future to try to navigate.

Tex honestly doesn’t know if he has a soulmate, he’s never had scars on his body, and he holds out hope that his is an agent, but he’s not counting on it. “You do that.” He murmurs softly, his smile encouraging.

“Pretty sure there won’t be anything against you in there, though.” You tilt your head a little, moving in closer to him as you sway to the music and looking up into his face. “Just in case you’re wondering.”

“Well first that means that I’ve got to be counted among the liaisons you’ve had.” Tex winks at you and waggles his brows at you playfully.

You had meant that you didn’t think any of the lessons you had to learn would count him out in the future, but of course his playful nature wins out and you end up with burning cheeks. “I suppose so,” you admit.

The song comes to an end and there is a smattering of applause and some murmurs that shuffle through the air. “Do you want to get another drink, darlin’?” He asks, not wanting to assume anything.

“Something other than champagne this time?” Bubbly is great, but you’ve sort of gotten the feeling that it’s not his drink. And as much as you enjoy your family, you also really enjoy just spending time with Tex. “Then maybe we can say good night? My feet are killing me and I’m sure you don’t want to get jumped by my cousins who were hoping that garter would get them proposed to.”

"One for the road." Tequila nods, and his hand stands on your back while he guides you towards the table with your name cards on two of the seats. "You can sit and I'll get our drinks." He offers, knowing those shoes have to be killing you. They look painful.

The atmosphere of the dress shop last weekend had been intoxicating - that’s why you went for them - but the next time you plan on dancing the night away you’ll definitely be in sneakers. Or cowboy boots. “Just get two of whatever sounds good,” you tell him, figuring he’ll come back with Statesman whiskey or something of similar quality. A full open bar is a thing of beauty.

Tequila makes his way to the bar and orders two old fashions, nodding politely to the older couple as he waits for the bartender to make them. Tonight has been interesting and he’s going to give Jack hell for skipping this, knowing how the older agent loves a good party and schmoozing up attractive ladies.

A few silent signals between you and your siblings are enough to tell them not to come over - that you’re in the middle of something with Tex and will fill them in later - and your older brother rolls his eyes at you as dramatically as humanly possible before pulling your little sister and her husband back into the dance floor for ‘Dancing Queen’. Your phone in your clutch has remained silent aside from social media posts, pictures from the wedding reception already going up as people continue to have fun. You had really hoped. Thought maybe a small ‘Sorry again!’ text or an ‘Hope you’re having fun.’ message might come through from Jack just to prove he’s been thinking of you. But there’s nothing. There’s been nothing but radio silence from him since he walked out of the kitchen on Monday. So you swallow the disappointment, shove your phone into the bottom of your bag, and resolve to forget about him entirely. You’re out with a handsome, sweet, funny man that made a stupid bet to earn your kisses, and goddamnit you’re going to make sure they’re good ones. And whatever else happens? Happens.

“You are a lovely looking couple.” The older woman smiles as she eyes Tex, making him grin like a sap as he twists his head towards where you are sitting. “Well, thank you ma’am. Hopefully that will be true soon.” He doesn’t want to start a rumor that you have to defend, but he would like to be reality.

“Soon?” The woman glances back at where you’re sitting and chuckles softly at the uncertainty of young people. “What’s stopping you?”

“Lady’s choice.” Tex answers easily. “I’ve made my interest known and now the reins are in her hands.”

“I didn’t see the face of a disinterested woman while you were dancing,” she assures him as the bartender puts two glasses down in front of Tequila.

Tex grins and tips her hat to her. “Ma’am, sir.” He drawls as he picks up the drinks. “I better go back to her before she loses interest then.”

“There you are.” When Tex reappears at your side with two glasses, you offer him a contented smile. “What are we drinking?”

“Old Fashioned’s.” He sends you a small wink and sets the glass down in front of you. “Since we are doing all the traditional things tonight.”

“Sounds perfect.” You pat the chair beside you, inviting him to sit with you for a moment to enjoy your drinks. “To good company.” Is the toast you offer, holding up your glass to him. “Thank you for coming this weekend. I know there are a million other things you could have done, but I’m glad you’re here.”

“Nowhere else I’d rather be.” Tex takes the seat you’ve offered, wanting to be in something that moves a bit easier than this tux, but it’s worth it. “No one else I’d rather be with too.”

The rims of your glasses tap against each other with a dainty ringing sound, and you shift a little closer to him at the table under the guise of getting comfortable after your first sip. “Next time we decide to party, I say we do it in jeans and sneakers,” you laugh, seeing the discomfort in how he holds himself. “Something a little more casual.”

“God yes.” Tex groans, nearly ready to kiss you for that suggestion. “Don’t get me wrong, you look beautiful, but you’d look beautiful at a bonfire sippin’ a beer with a t-shirt on.”

“I like a good excuse to dress up, but it’s been a long night.” His utter relief makes you laugh, and you sip the delicious drink he brought you between laughter. “You…you look very handsome. I mean, you always do, but I mean…tonight especially.” Geez…you really are bad at this…

“Tonight I’m irresistible?” Tex offers, throwing you a wink before he takes a sip of his cocktail. “That was the goal, darlin’, I’m glad I pulled it off.”

You could laugh. You probably should. But you end up simply shrugging, and offering him a shy smile. “Tonight you look like Prince Charming.”

“Does that make you Cinderella or Aurora?” Tex asks with a smirk. “Always confuse those two.”

“Cinderella.” You tell him, your tone as serious as if he had offended your family’s honor. As an enormous Alice in Wonderland fan, you had had a very Disney-centric childhood. “Aurora’s prince is named Phillip.”

Tequila winces, shaking his head. “That’s a horrible name for a prince.” He huffs, insulted by the lack of imagination. “Although, Tex ain’t any better.”

"I'm sure it was just fine for the 1950s." Never really having thought about the validity of a cartoon prince's first name, you nudge his leg with your foot under the table and let your smile come back ever so subtly. "Besides, princes aren't all they're cracked up to be."

It takes him a moment, but when he gets your meaning, Tex breaks into a beaming smile. “Yeah?” He hums and waggles his brows. “Prefer cowboys?”

"Maybe." The way he takes that as such an absolute victory is adorable, and you lean into him at your table to enjoy the warmth radiating off of him in waves.

“Then I guess I better work on changing that to a ‘definitely’.” Tex chuckles and takes another sip of his drink.

"You have a particular method in mind?" The way you've ended up sitting, your chair is scooted right up next to his so you basically only need to whisper to each other. It makes everything feel that much more intimate and secluded even though you're still in the middle of a crowded ballroom.

The small, teasing smile that is in the Statesman’s agents face turns devilish and slightly cocky. “Well, that depends on what happens after that kiss.” He drawls out. “I can always show you how good I am with my hands.” He winks and settles back for your reaction.

Freezing with your glass halfway to your lips, you can feel your eyes widen and your body flush hot all at once. “I—is that…something you want to show me?”

He looks at you for a moment to gauge if you really don’t understand how much he wants you. He murmurs your name quietly, “I want nothing more that to take you back to the suite and show you exactly that.”

The decision isn’t a hard one. It’s not as though you aren’t attracted to Tex, and there isn’t the threat of alcohol clouding your judgement because your tolerance is so damn high. This is one consenting adult to another - and also admittedly a reminder to yourself that Jack Daniels’ opinion is not the only one in the world. Shaking off the sting of that rejection, you knock back the end of your drink and lean in, pressing a kiss to his cheek with your own completely on fire. “Then I think we should say our good nights,” you tell him pointedly. “And have the rest of the night to ourselves.”

The speed at which Tex springs to his feet is astonishing, immediately setting his drink down and holding out his hand to help you out of his seat. “Whenever you’re ready, darlin’.”

To your siblings’ credit, they don’t actually say anything when you come and say ‘good night’ with Tex’s hand on your back, and your mother only raises an eyebrow halfway before shooting your father a look that says not to say anything. She knows you’ll fill them in if there is anything they need to know, but your business is your business. In just ten minutes’ time you’re slipping out of the ballroom, hoping not to be seen or stopped by distant relatives looking to chat.

Your hand is still firmly in his as the two of you make your way towards the elevators. “Do you want to take your shoes off?” Tequila asks you. “You can walk barefoot or I can carry you?” His grin is playful, but he would totally carry you up to the suite.

“I’m not going to make you carry me.” You roll your eyes at him like it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever said, but still laugh. “I’m definitely taking these off, though. Three inches is too much.”

He snorts and bites his lip. “Darlin’ if three inches is too much, we’re gonna have a problem.” He jokes, a filthy grin on his face.

You stifle a laugh so hard that you snort, covering your mouth in embarrassment and looking up at him to see the absolute mischief on his face. “Oh no,” you promise him with a snicker. “That’s a very different circumstance.”

Tex winks and you and then bends down to one knee in the middle of the large hallway. “Let me take off those three-inch heels, hmm?” He pats his knee expectantly and smirks up at you.

“Reverse Prince Charming?” The hallway is mostly deserted, except for a few stray caterers and one guest who smiles at the two of you fondly before hurrying off to give you privacy. When he doesn’t move, obviously serious about the gesture, you lift one foot to rest it delicately on his knee while still trying desperately not to get his tuxedo dirty.

“Always gotta help a pretty lady in distress.” His fingers are thicker than the whoever designed the tiny buckles, but he manages to get the shoe undone and starts to slide it off your foot. “And this looks painful.”

“Who knows what I was thinking.” You laugh it off, nearly groaning in relief when you put your bare foot down on the chilly floor and let him unbuckle the other. You know exactly what you were thinking - it was all about how Jack looked at you in this dress and how you wanted to impress him. Thoughts that have no place in your mind right now.

“Done.” Tequila keeps the straps of the heels hooked on his fingers as he stands up and grins. “Now you can walk properly, even if it made your ass look incredible.”

“Flatterer.” Tangling your fingers with his when the elevator door opens, you pull him in with you and reach to take your shoes back.

“Just tellin’ the truth.” He puffs up in excitement and pride that you are so eager to go up to the room with him.

“Yeah, yeah.” Deciding that teasing is better than letting your emotions get involved even in taking a compliment, you tap the button for your floor and watch the doors close while you lean into his side. “I know you’re after my sweets,” you tease, shooting him a grin. “Sugar is the great temptation.”

"It is." Tequila can't even deny the way his body reacts to that tease. "I wanna find out if your sweets are only limited to your baking."

“Well…” Glancing at the closed door, you know you have nothing but privacy for at least the ride to your floor. “I believe I owe you a kiss.”

There's a smugness to his smile as he turns towards you, reaching for your waist to pull you against him gently. "Yeah?" He hums, glancing up at the numbers going up. "Think we've got enough time to do it properly?"

“That depends how much time you waste talking.” Tex likes to be teased, it gives his ego a stroke and makes him laugh, and he chuckles now even with the palpable tension in the air. “I swear, cowboys chatter more than church ladies.”

"Nothin' better to do at times." Tequila acknowledges, leaning in and his breath huffs against your skin. "But I'll shut up now and do this." He mumbles right before he captures your lips in a kiss that is meant to start gentle but eager.

It’s heated, neediness poorly hidden under the soft touch like he’s holding himself back but only barely. That gorgeously satisfying feeling of wanting and being wanted rolls through you and you lean into him more surely, slipping your hands up to his shoulders and letting the kiss linger.

It's hard not to deepen the kiss, not when he feels you soften under his lips. Your body shifting towards him and he could take it farther. Press you up against the wall and show you exactly how wild you are driving him, but the doors will open in approximately twenty-two seconds.

The faint ding of the elevator pulls you both out of the moment, albeit reluctantly, and you bite back a grin. “Maybe we should find someplace that has privacy for more than thirty seconds?”

He doesn't answer, just takes your hand and swiftly pulls you off the elevator to start striding down the hall towards the end where the door to your two-room suite is located. Eager to get you into the room and see where this goes.

______ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73

DtRH: @haileymorelikestupid @spishsstuff @missmarmaladeth @axshadows @a-gay-cryptid @sgt-morgan @1a-ma1a-su3rt3 @flowers4copper @ghost-timelord @the0racl30fd3lphidos @all-the-way-down-here @bobafvcker @ficsbynight @dinoflower @supernaturalgirl20 @xdaddysprincessxx @bobawh0re @amiee-mitch18 @darkhairedmenrule @heyyimlaynna @strawberry-f4iry @3zm33atzbuss33 @whataghost @cyber666slut @nobody-000 @eddiemunsonsgirlfriendirl @lucciolaraven @powergirlsupremacy @secondsistershelby @dreadmars @androgynoushellscape @soytomatecherry @cheesecake-massacre @mylifeisbasedonashow @idiotickiddo @tomfeltonisbae @maratheidiot22 @im-nada @everybirdfellsilent @deepdarkdelights @brokenwhitegirl384 @ur-honey-child @caseket @copperrose15 @we-could-have-been @valkyries-ride @scarletmunson @strawberriricemilk @ghost-timelord @galactigoos @floridawaters @cutiepie6473 @pinball-vance @theslytherinwriter @scorpioswonder @stankyleg05 @fxdsketches @sad-innit @coffeyorky @1a-ma1a-su3rt3 @starlordsonlywife @aura626 @mistresskei @marv3lwhor3 @sadimusprimee @yourwonderbelle @sgt-morgan @spot116 @milybaby018 @loserk1nks @artfulthoughtswp @aavw @babyrunsforfanfic @faceache111 @midnight-huntress @asimpleraccoonqueen @marki-moo0 @pages89 @rawr-bitches @rebel-fanfare @soooosha @luna-is-out-there @im-sylien @timpletance @certifiedhunter @ellenmunn @littlethief78 @tinalbion @eddy-y @tikibabi @whyidkok @bearcoon1666 @littlebirdsbookshelf @a-gay-cryptid @disaster-ahaha @viridiesa @axshadows @purplerain04 @karmarouge @holycyclehomo @sainteredhood @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @the-wishmonger @theliferuiner @raptorclaw24 @asp1r1ngm1lf @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @st4rl1ght444 @litholithium @tusk89 @youjustneedatherapist @nekodemon73 @iceclaw101 @lightningsface @shakespeareanwannabe @jasminemunson @spideysimpossiblegirl @wannabedaphne @sammus-white @jazzieomega @88dragon06 @ishabull @raquel-rial @tuquoquebrute @hotleaf-juice @dantaku @youokhoney @thisiswhyibleedsstuff @maximumkryptonitegladiator @jediknight122 @gadsgikklesen @movievillainess721 @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @the-strawberrythief @spishsstuff @choppedmugjudgeplaid @haileymorelikestupid @gooddaykate @missredherring @abyssal-zone-stares-back @supernaturalgirl @winterandstars @severewobblerlightdragon @missmarmaladeth @noisynaia @saintbedelia @algressman16 @eaks0710 @mina2000alex @emdraws02 @universallyclodlawyerpainter @rayrayvan @akaleelanie @mishasminion360 @amneris21 @roxypeanut @lunarcatbun 118 @frasmotic @emdraws02 @universallyclodlawyerpainter @rayrayvan @lovelychaos420 @1432690 @no1pornstachefan @thegrimreaperbitch @esmeensheep @izz-ayes-world @kittycatcait219 @loveyou3000tonystark @tintinn16 @igenerallytrynottogiveagoshdarn @motheroftorches @phoenixhalliwell @the-dazzling-urbanite @coffeyorky @trickstersp8 @victorian-cherub @julissadunn @clarysthing @the-girl-that-loves-many-fandoms @mastersurf @theghostofutopia @ncsls0515 @seraphinaivy @hiyorinatsuki @ghostofaboy @yn-hamato @elfwriter1088 @sunnygrey99 @lexinicolenix @lazyemisfandomtrash @curiouskeyboard @qualityearthquakes @spider-284748 @unnecesarysstuff @sgt-morgan @love-affair-with-fandoms @lunarcatbun @kstar770 @kykymarty @supergingerlocks @hell0kittybimb0222 @a-birds-fin @loidforgerishotashell @mythical-writer @ghostshalo @avengersimaginesfan @sccialcasualty @lordecult @petalo-dropsart @i-quite-like-eating-carrots @svudetective @hasta-la-pasta-bb @manicpixiedreamgirly @destinydog @skeppycarnation @anaisweird @critters-beware @fruityforcocoapuffs @linnnniie @spideyromantic @paupeach2024 @faithxyu @fxramir @legomyeggo @jjggdfvvy @hi-my-name-is-riley @kasaikawa @lost-ghost-thats-sleepy @callmegkiddo @2dead2function @generallysleepdeprived @failingclassesinmygucciglasses @thebeesknees42 @moonmoon007 @wi0na @cilliansangel @lostinsideourminds @angstismydrug @elvenmother @bilibiche @kettlekatie @preschoolispunk @djarinsstuff @generallysleepdeprived @love-affair-with-fandoms @wowieitbeme @fanofverymanythings @jay-ghostly

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Jack Daniels #Jack Daniels x reader #Jack Daniels x you #jack daniels x female reader #Jack Whiskey Daniels #Agent Whiskey #Kingsman Golden Circle #soulmate au #love triangle #Tequila x reader #Channing Tatum

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f10werfae · 1 year

Text

Sy, I am Backup

pairing: Captain Syverson x Girlfriend!Sniper!Reader

summary: Reader is like a total badass super deadly sniper and she leads like a badass group of women who are also deadly soldiers. Anyways the ladies are called in to help rescue Sy and his team? (requested by @stormcloudss )

Warnings: Gun Violence

requests are open/ likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated♥️

Henry Cavill Masterlist, Full Masterlist, Taglist Form

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“You sure you’ll be okay baby? You know the girls and I are always on call to help?” Y/n said helping pack her boyfriend Sy’s backpack for his next mission at his recent position, commander. “I know sugar, but i’d rather not put you into danger, ya know this” Sy huffed throwing on his boots before hotly kissing his woman goodbye and off he went.

Y/n L/n, wasn’t the most innocent, with her being head of the sniping division, she had quite the talent herself. In fact that’s how Sy and her met, they were put into the same training group at the deployment centre, and voila. Sy couldn’t help but find himself drawn to this amazing woman, not only was she able to carry herself, but Sy as well (Literally)

Now 7 months down the line the two had moved in together and were finally getting serious, until the dreaded call came. They needed Sy out there again, luckily it was only a short drive and a smaller scale task, but still all the more dangerous. Even though Sy was mean and scary to others, to Y/n he was nothing but her big baby that asked to share showers, kisses and cuddles on the daily.

“Ok I don’t have a good feeling about this” Y/n whispered to herself and calling up her fellow girls on their groupchat, watching as Sy’s truck pulled off and out of their home’s driveway. Rifling through her old gear, Y/n got out her old suit and equipment with the phone stuck between her ear and shoulder.

Steph: God did I think we would never talk again, Miss L/n

Y/n: Come on now Steph, it’s only been two months

Grace: Did commander send us a task or something?

Y/n: No but he sent Sy’s team one, a drug bust, which is unusual because how violent could it get for soldiers to be there

Sophie: Jesus there must be bombs or something, there’s no way it’s just a drug bust

Y/n: That’s what i’m sayin! Which is why I think we need to get ready girls-

Stephanie: Woah woah owah, ready for what?

Y/n: Look, all of our men are on that squad, and we know damn well their general is going to hound us for backup

Grace: She’s got a point, we are the most experienced snipers around the place

Stephanie: I can’t believe i’m actually agreeing to this, meet y’all at L/n’s place in 15

Sophie: Omg the gang is back together

Within a half hour, all four girls were stood in the living room, strapped into their camo gear. Hairs in ponytails, heavy duty boots in tow and let’s not forget them reloading their customised weapons of war. Each different sniper sporting a different colour, each representing each woman’s aura. Y/n’s was a strong deep red, you can guess the reasoning for that.

“So what do we just wait here or something? How do we even know they’ll need us, there’s like 6 of them” Grace asked setting down her green sniper and sitting down onto the velvet white couch.

“Because of this” Y/n rushed out showing them the newest message from their commander

General L/n, assistance is needed at (insert address) Be prepared for situations 302 and 105. Mild casualties reported, enter from the side and take position. You know what to do.

“302? That means mild explosives does it not” Sophie asked looking at the phone herself, her hand reaching for her purple sniper, her fingertips tingling with anticipation and exhilaration.

“Yeah and 105, means outnumbered. Holy shit girls, we got ourselves a good one” Grace shouted getting up, the rest of them following her out of the house and into the one van they were going to use.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Reaching the destination which seemed to be a dingy old warehouse, the girls got a glimpse of the amount of men walking in and out of the building, not their own men of course. Slinging on their extra ammo and their snipers, the girls found a wide enough pipe system for them to climb up skilfully. Y/n the first one to end up onto the roof, found herself a nice little spot with an opening straight into the warehouse. Setting up her stand and sniper, peeked into her scope and saw Sy’s squad.

Oh my were they outnumbered, they were practically surrounded, all of them tied up and some were clearly bleeding out. Just how strong were these other men? I mean granted there must be 100 of them, but wow.

Y/n felt her breath hitch when she saw her man, Sy, sitting dejectedly against a pile of cardboard boxes. His face still as brave as ever, but this time sporting more than a few cuts with blood running down his face. Y/n was going to kill these sons of bitches even if it was the last thing she did.

Looking up around the roof, Y/n saw that the other three girls were also raging, all of them nodding at each other before focusing down at their targets. Y/n found her first shot, a bald man who was tattooed all over, he seemed to be the one giving the orders.

Counting down under her breath

“3, 2, 1” And the trigger went off, the bullet embedding itself into the man’s head, instantly knocking him into the ground.

“Gotcha asshole” Y/n whispered loading up her next bullet, hearing all the men down below go into chaos at who shot their boss, the other three girls taking down what was assumed to be his right hand men. Leaving only the pawns of this vigilante group, when all of a sudden, Grace found herself making eye contact with one of the men, his smirk revealing golden teeth and a horrid face.

“Shit shit shit, i’ve been spotted, we gotta go now!” Grace shouted slinging back on her gun and running to the other girls, everyone hearing the men shouting up the side of the compound before they felt the shaking of the pipe system. Their only way down.

“Ok fuck uh- we gotta jump” Y/n rushed out looking over the hole she was spying on, noticing the high stack of cardboard boxes that could break their fall.

“Ok L/n even if we jump, we have to somehow get six injured men into a van, how does that work?”

“Let me take care of that, you guys jump and get them all into the van. If i’m not there in 10 minutes, leave without me yeah?” Y/n said stepping away from the hole and putting the other girls forward towards it.

“The fuck do you mean? Sy will kill us if anything happens to you, plus we can’t just leave you. No man left behind” Steph shouted

“Look, I won’t be left behind if this fucking works ok?! Now just go!” Y/n shouted, seeing the three girls salute to her before each taking their turn to jump onto the boxes, when all of a sudden Y/n heard the sound of metal behind her. They were here.

“Well, it’s just a little lady, musta got lost?” The front man said, twirling a pistol in his hands,

Within seconds Y/n had aimed her sniper and had shot the man full force sending him off the edge of the building, “Bring it on you filthy fuckers” She shouted loading in another round and going to town at the men in front of her, whilst running about trying to dodger bullets

- -

Grace, Sophie and Steph despite hurting their feet in the landing had now found themselves alone with their soldiers, untying them rapidly until a gruff hand pulled Sophie’s, “Where’s Y/n? I know she’s in your division. Agent L/n” Sy asked desperately limping, Sophie couldn’t help but stay quiet and instead looking towards the ceiling where they heard a loud cry say “OW FUCK SAKE” A woman’s cry.

- -

Y/n had near wiped them out, leaving one man behind to step over the bodies of his comrades. Realising she had no more bullets left, the man smiled at the sound of the empty gun, aiming his gun towards her leg before shooting it, immediately sending her to the ground, “OW FUCK SAKE” Clutching onto her leg Y/n growled and groaned, watching the man step closer towards her, a victorious look on his face.

“Looks like you’re down sweetheart, how unfortunate, women are always pathetic” He spat laughing at her, walking back towards the pipe system, leaving her to lay there in agony.

“Not yet” Y/n groaned pulling the key out of the hand grenade she was wearing with her teeth, and throwing it as hard as she could towards him as he bent down to climb

- -

“I need to go back for Y/n, you fuckers don’t understand-“

“No trust me we didn’t want to leave her either, but her orders were to get you guys into the van and wait ten minutes” Grace said guarding the back of the van which held the 6 grateful men, thankfully all of them only having mild injuries ranging from dislocations to cuts

*BOOM*

Shattering their conversation, everyone watched as a man's body blew up mid air, parts of the building edge being blown up to pieces. Everyone going silent at the thoughts in their heads,

"get the fuck out of my way or i'll make you" Sy growled, Grace immediately sighing and letting him step out, his now bandaged leg giving him the ability to somehow walk strongly. Sy groaned as he pulled himself up the pipe system, his heartbeat pounding in his ears at the fear of what's happened to his beloved girlfriend. His first love as well as that.

Relief filling him as he looked over the edge and saw a very much conscious and in pain

Y/n, who still had that same smirk on her face, “Told you I was here for backup baby” She shouted watching him shake his head and walk over to her,

“Don’t you ever fucking do that again, ya hear me?” Smashing his lips onto hers as if she would disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough, that’s how he felt.

(A few weeks later)

“Baby can I have a chocolate bar please” Y/n shouted from the living room, her casted leg set up on the couch, with Aika licking at her exposed toes.

“Comin’ right up honey” Sy said walking into the kitchen before settling beside her, her head falling on his chest with his arms wrapped around her shoulder.

“So about our next mission-“

“Shut it sugar, we’re not going anywhere anymore, not after that last scenario. We are done baby”

“What do you mean done? We can’t just quit?” Y/n questioned looking up at him confused, his lips pressing soft kisses to her temple and cheeks

“Of course not, but parental leave is a thing i’m sure we could get” He shrugged smirking down at her, taking a swig of his beer before taking a deep inhale in her neck, smelling her sweet peachy scent that he oh loved so much. A bit too much actually.

“But we aren’t parents Sy- Wait- HOLD ON-“

——-

Taglist Tags (Form is up there^^): @thereisa8ella @beck07990 @vrittivsanghavi @diyabhanushali1 @angelmather1 @hp-hogwartsexpress @lastwandastan @fdl305 @uwiuwi @alexxavicry @bookfrog242 @alina02 @aerangi @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson @sparklemarysunshine @oliviah-25 @mischiefsemimanaged @nikkitc0703 @hallecarey1 @misshale21 @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mansaaay @princess-paramour @stormcloudss @marvelgurl @taramaria @mysticfalls01 @kebabgirl67 @athena-roy @tinyelfperson @madebylilly @dumb-fawkin-bitch @kimhtoo17 @pandaxnienke

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill one shot #captain sy x reader #captain syverson #sy x reader

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kokoch4n3l · 10 days

Text

˗ˏˋ ve kamleya ࿐ྂ "if you want to do something, go fall in love. fulfill your stubborn wish for once"

summary: in which during a deal with overseas businessmen, bonten finds out about your shitty ex from high school

pairing(s): slight bonten x poc!oc, implied mikey x poc!oc

notes: oc is punjabi cuz I said so and this is also kind of a self-insert so... title from my fav hindi song ve kamleya, the video has eng subs btw. dividers by cafekitsune

warnings: dark content 18+, canon typical violence, drug-related business(opium), drug trafficking, slight misogyny, implied/referenced ptsd, past abusive relationship, mean!manjiro, slight insensitivity, blood and gore, implied torture, implied murder, suggestive themes

word count: 3770

The smoky haze of the dimly lit room hung heavy, casting shadows that danced across the faces of the assembled men. Sano Manjiro, the imposing leader of the Bonten gang, sat at the head of the table, his steely gaze surveying the room with a mixture of authority and calm. Around him sat his trusted lieutenants, each one a force to be reckoned with in their own right. The only woman among them, commanded the attention of the room as she rose to address their guests once again after hours of debate. After all, Sano Manjiro trusted no one else to get this deal done. “I understand the… demand, for opium up in the north of India but you should also know we aren’t lowering our price either” She says in English, tone gentle yet somehow firm at the same time

Her words hung in the air, a subtle reminder of the strength of their position in the negotiations. The guests shifted uncomfortably, keenly aware of the delicate balance of power at play. "We are prepared to meet your needs," she continued in the same language, her gaze steady. "But it must be on terms that are mutually beneficial."

One man clears his throat and speaks up finally. “You must understand Miss, we have no deficiency of suppliers, especially for opium,” The man says in English with a slight accent behind it as he casually adjusts his gold rings “The stuff from Japan is a lot higher in quality which is why we’re here doing this deal anyway. But we—”

“Because it is a lot higher in quality we cannot lower our price” She interjects with a calm smile “You know, labour costs and all”

The man's expression tightened, his gaze flickering between her and Sano Manjiro as if weighing his options. Behind him, his companions exchanged cautious glances, sensing the tension in the air. "We understand your position," the man replied finally, his tone conceding to the reality of the situation. "But surely there's room for negotiation."

Her smile remained fixed, though her eyes betrayed no hint of compromise. "Of course, negotiations are always possible," she conceded her voice like velvet over steel. "But we must be clear on one thing: our price reflects not just the quality of our product, but the risks we undertake to supply it."

Akashi Takeomi, silent until now, leaned forward slightly. "Our operations are not without their challenges," he added, his voice low back in the same language, his accent a lot thicker than hers "But for the right partners, we are willing to mitigate those risks."

The men turn to each other and start conversing in another language and at the same time, she quietly translates to Takeomi exactly what they’re saying back in Japanese. She eyes Manjiro who’s standing in front of the large floor-to-ceiling windows of the meeting room. It looked like he was zoned out, staring at the skyline of Tokyo but she and the rest of Bonten knew better than to think that. He was listening alright, even when it didn’t look like he was. The rest were just leaning back in their chairs, bored from the constant debate. “Say, Miss…” One of the men, probably the youngest, says in English with a prominent American accent “I hear you’re from India too. What state?”

She raises her brow at the question but responds anyway. “Punjab”

The other men seem to get excited at her answer. Of course, they would. After all, what language were they speaking this entire time to each other? “Really? I knew I recognized that nose from somewhere” One man switches to Punjabi when addressing her “Women from the north are known for being beautiful. I should have known you were from there”

His change of tone catches Manjiro’s attention and he finally, since the beginning of this meeting, turns to look at the businessmen. He obviously didn’t understand what they said but his instincts were something even the executives were afraid of so she won’t doubt that he had gotten the gist of what had been said. She shifts in her seat, Takeomi and the rest of Bonten looking at her curiously. “As much as I appreciate the flattery, we still aren’t lowering our price” She replies calmly in English, knowing replying back in Punjabi would no doubt make Manjiro aggravated as he liked to know what she was saying at all times

The businessmen exchanged uneasy glances, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. Behind them, Sano Manjiro remained silent, his gaze now fixed on her with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. She knew that he was listening, that every word spoken in his presence was carefully scrutinized for any hint of deception or weakness. The youngest of the group seemed unfazed by her response, pressing on with his attempts at charm. "Come on, sweetheart," he said, an American accent thick even when speaking in Punjabi, with arrogance. "Surely we can come to some sort of arrangement."

Her smile tightened, a glimmer of steel beneath her gentle facade. "I'm afraid not," she replied in English, her tone cool and final. "Our price is non-negotiable."

The tension in the room was palpable, the air heavy with the weight of unspoken threats. It’s just then the door of the meeting room opens revealing a new face. “Sorry I’m late, traffic in Tokyo is—”

Manjiro waves the newcomer off. He was obviously with the other businessmen. The other executives are annoyed as hell with the lateness, after all the meeting had been going on for hours already, but don’t mention it as they’re tired. But that’s when Manjiro notices his only female executive has gone still. She’s frozen which is extremely uncharacteristic of her and it worries him. So he does the first thing that comes to mind. “How about we take a break.” He says, voice low and everyone knows it’s not an offer but a command

Manjiro headed for the door of the meeting room and his executives followed behind, Takeomi having to literally drag her to stand at one point. They’re in the elevator. Manjiro eyes her as she removes her red-bottomed heels from her feet, sighing in relief. The elevator is going up to the top floor. “Any weaknesses so far?” Kakucho asks, his voice breaking the silence

“Punctuality apparently” Ran mutters in annoyance

They all look toward her, wondering what she had to say but instead, she’s silent, holding her heels in one hand, leaning against the elevator wall looking very out of breath. Rindo snaps his fingers in front of her face. “Dude” he says

“Hm?” she looks up at him, uncharacteristically dazed

Usually, she would have snapped at him, kicked Rindo in the shin or threatened to stab him with her heels but no, she didn’t. It was… concerning. Her uncharacteristic behaviour caught everyone’s attention. She isn’t usually like this— quiet, dazed and unconfident. No one is sure what to say, not even Kakucho who was Bonten’s collective impulse control and unlicenced and unpaid therapist. The elevator reaches the top floor and they file out of the elevator, into the private lounge. They watch in silence as she sits on the long circular-shaped couch, her heels dropped carelessly to the floor as she puts her hair up, revealing the hanafuda full moon tattoo on the back of her neck— on the same location as Manjiro has his. Manjiro takes a seat next to her and the rest sit on the couch too, staring. She looks at them, narrowing her eyes a bit. “What?”

“We should be asking you that” Mochi says as he lights himself a cigarette

Her gaze lingered on each member of Bonten in turn, her expression inscrutable, as if weighing her words carefully before speaking. The tension in the room tightened like a taut wire, anticipation thrumming through the air. "I'm fine," she finally replied, her tone clipped, though the strain in her voice was evident to those who knew her well. "Too many languages just making my head hurt"

The response did little to ease the unease that had settled over the group like a heavy fog. They had seen her weather countless storms with unyielding resolve, her strength a pillar upon which they had come to rely. But now, faced with her uncharacteristic vulnerability, they found themselves at a loss for how to proceed. Manjiro studied her carefully, his keen eyes searching for any sign of deception or weakness. He knew her better than anyone and understood the walls she erected to shield herself from the world. But beneath the facade of stoicism, he sensed a flicker of genuine concern, a vulnerability she had never shown before. “Nah uh,” Sanzu says rolling his eyes “You started being all weird when the motherfucker who doesn’t know how to be on time showed up”

She shifts uncomfortably. It seems Sanzu’s observation was a hit. Her discomfort was palpable, her usual confidence shaken by the blunt observation. She shifted in her seat, a flicker of uncertainty betraying her stoic facade. The others watched her closely, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity, unsure of how to proceed. Sanzu's words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the tension that had simmered beneath the surface since the newcomer's arrival. She felt the weight of their expectations bearing down on her, the pressure to maintain her composure in the face of mounting scrutiny. "I..." She began, her voice trailing off as she struggled to find the right words.

She couldn’t find an excuse. But even as she stayed silent, she could feel the disapproving stares of her companions, their silent judgment weighing heavily upon her. Manjiro, ever the astute leader, sensed her distress and moved to intervene. "Enough," he declared, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "This conversation is over."

His authoritative tone brooked no argument, and the others fell silent, their eyes darting between her and their leader. “Go back to the meeting the rest of you”

Rest of you meaning, everyone leave and Manjiro and her stay. Without a word, the others rose from their seats, casting one last glance at her before filing out of the room. As the door closed behind them, a heavy silence descended, leaving only Manjiro and her alone in the private lounge. Manjiro looks at her, black eyes a bottomless pit of nothing. “What’s wrong?” He asks

There was no room for reflecting on his question. Manjiro was direct and needed answers as to why his best negotiator had suddenly frozen up in the midst of a deal. “You know him” It wasn’t a question this time but an observation

Manjiro understood the intricacies of their world better than anyone, and he knew the dangers that lurked beneath the surface of even the most seemingly innocuous interactions. The newcomer's presence had disrupted the delicate balance of power, setting off alarm bells in her mind that she couldn't ignore. “I um… I…” She isn’t able to get her words out

He gives her a look. “Tell me” It’s a command

She shifts uncomfortably. She fiddles with her white gold rings, they glimmer under the artificial lighting. “That’s my ex…”

Manjiro raises a brow. Her admission hung heavy in the air, the weight of her revelation settling like a leaden cloak upon them both. Manjiro's expression remained unreadable, though a flicker of concern danced in the depths of his obsidian eyes. "Your ex…" he repeated, his voice betraying no emotion.

She nodded, her throat constricting with the weight of unspoken memories and unresolved emotions. She had hoped to keep her past firmly buried in the depths of her mind, but now, confronted with Manjiro's unwavering gaze, she found herself unable to hide the truth any longer. "He... he wasn't supposed to be here," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I thought... I thought I could handle it, but..."

Her words trailed off, lost in the suffocating silence that enveloped them. She could feel the weight of Manjiro's scrutiny bearing down upon her, his gaze penetrating as he searched for some semblance of understanding in her haunted eyes. “And what did he do for my best negotiator to react like a psychiatric patient just at the sight of him?”

She shifts again but this time he holds her thigh to stop her from moving. There was no getting out of this conversation. Manjiro always got what he wanted and right now he wanted answers. “I… I dated him in high school”

It’s been years. She knows Manjiro is gonna belittle her for being this way over something that ended years ago but… She spills. She tries her best to tell him vaguely what happened— trying to be as vague as possible but Manjiro just keeps asking for more details. He wanted to know everything and once he was satisfied he pulled out his phone and typed something then threw it carelessly on the table. “Is that why you don’t date or sleep around like the others do?” He asks bluntly “Because of what he did?”

Manjiro looked angry. It was odd seeing an actual emotion in his eyes for once even if it was anger. She gulps. Oh man did she hate her stupid ex right now. It had been years since they broke up or well, since she forced the break up because he refused to let her leave. That stupid asshole traumatized her so badly that now even though she was an executive for Japan’s most ruthless and dangerous gang, he made her want to throw up from fear. “I’m sorry—”

“Shut up” Manjiro says lowly but she keeps going

“No, it was extremely unprofessional and I shouldn’t let my personal feelings come in the middle of work—”

He cuts her off again, grabbing her face and squeezing her cheeks together. Her lips jut out a bit from the action. The tips of Manjiro’s fingers dig into her cheeks and her skin warms under his touch, turning the most endearing shade of pink he’s ever seen. “And what exactly are you apologizing for?” Manjiro mutters looking annoyed

She thinks he might just shoot her, empty his Glock out in her head and get Sanzu or Koko to call the cleaners to get rid of her body and turn her into fishbait. “F-For fucking up the deal…” She tries saying as he squeezes her face tighter with the tips of his fingers

Manjiro chuckles and it has to be one of the scariest things she’s heard in her life. “Wrong. Apologize for dating such an ugly little bitch”

“... huh?”

She thinks she’s hearing things. “You heard me,” Manjiro says nonchalantly “apologize”

Her heart pounded in her chest as she struggled to comprehend the meaning behind his words. Was this some twisted form of punishment? Or was there something else, something more insidious, at play here? With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, She realized that she was treading dangerous waters, her every move scrutinized by the man before her. And as she searched his eyes for some semblance of understanding, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to his demand than met the eye. Sanzu and Rindo often joked that she got away with a lot of things and Manjiro was the most lenient with her. Was Manjiro finally giving her the punishment she deserved for all the other times she fucked up? Oh man, no way she was going to die because of her stupid bitch ass ex. “Hey” He says snapping her out of her thoughts

She looks at him. “The deal is off. I don’t want it to go through anyway”

Her eyes widen at his words. “Wait w-what—”

But Manjiro's expression remained impassive, his gaze unwavering as he met her eyes. There was a hardness in his stare, a determination that sent a shiver down her spine. "I said the deal is off," he repeated, his tone firm.

Her mind raced as she tried to make sense of Manjiro's decision. Was this punishment for her perceived failure? Or was there something else at play, something she couldn't quite grasp? As she searched his eyes for some clue, some hint of understanding, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Manjiro's actions than met the eye. Manjiro's gaze held a steely resolve as she struggled to comprehend his abrupt decision. The implications of the deal falling through reverberated through the room, casting a shadow over their carefully laid plans. But beneath the surface, she sensed a tension, a hidden undercurrent that hinted at something deeper. "Why?" she asked, her voice tinged with confusion and a hint of desperation. "Why cancel the deal?"

Manjiro's expression softened ever so slightly, a flicker of something akin to regret in his eyes. It was a rare moment of vulnerability, one that sent a jolt of uncertainty coursing through her veins. "Because some things are more important than business," Manjiro replied, his voice low and measured.

Her mind raced as she tried to make sense of his cryptic words. What could be more important than securing Bonten's position in the underworld? What could possibly justify throwing away the opportunity they had worked so hard to achieve? But before she can speak, he lets go of her face and his hand slides to the back of her neck, the tips of his fingers now digging into her— his— tattoo. Almost as if he could read her mind he asks, “Are you questioning my authority?”

She doesn’t dare move away from him or shake her no to answer him. Manjiro didn’t like being answered with gestures, he preferred words. “N-No…”

“Good” he says

Manjiro's hand lingered on the back of her neck, his touch was both possessive and unsettling. She could feel the weight of his gaze upon her, his eyes boring into hers with an intensity that made her breath catch in her throat. His nails slightly dig into the knobs of her spine, right on the tattoo. It doesn’t hurt but it feels hot. One thing Manjiro often reminded her of is that Bonten was his. That included the executives and that especially included her. Her life belonged to him and he clearly wasn’t taking her being afraid of someone that wasn’t him very nicely. “You’re really gonna let a guy like that stop you from ever falling in love again?”

The question almost stopped her heart because it was not what she expected him to ask. She had never expected Manjiro to broach such a sensitive topic, let alone express concern for her romantic endeavours. But beneath the surprise, a flicker of something else stirred within her—a yearning for something more, something beyond the confines of Bonten's ruthless world. "I..." she faltered, her voice barely above a whisper.

How could she explain the depths of her fear, the scars that her past had left upon her soul? How could she make him understand the tangled web of emotions that had kept her trapped in the shadow of her own memories? But before she could formulate a response, Manjiro's hand tightened on the back of her neck, his grip possessive yet strangely comforting. "You don't have to answer now," he said, his voice softer than before but it quickly went back to being harsh “I am disappointed though”

His hand holding her thigh comes up to hold her cheek now. She’s frozen, unsure of what to do. "How could my executive let a little bitch like that do that to her and not move on for years?" Manjiro's voice was low, his words cutting through the silence like a knife.

Her mind raced as she struggled to find the right words to say. How could she explain the depths of her pain, the scars that her past had left upon her soul? How could she make him understand the tangled web of emotions that had kept her trapped in the shadow of her own memories? But before she could formulate a response, Manjiro's thumb brushed against her cheekbone, his touch both intimate and unsettling. She felt a surge of vulnerability wash over her, a raw honesty that threatened to shatter the carefully constructed walls she had built around her heart. "I... I don't know," She finally whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "I'm sorry..."

Manjiro's grip on her cheek tightened, his touch both gentle and commanding. He held her gaze with an intensity that made her feel as though he could see straight through to her soul. "Sorry doesn't change the past," he murmured, his voice a low rumble in the quiet room.

She felt a knot form in her stomach at his words, a familiar sense of guilt and inadequacy washing over her. She had spent years trying to bury the pain of her past, to escape the memories that haunted her every waking moment. But now, confronted with Manjiro's unwavering gaze, she couldn't help but feel as though she had failed him in some fundamental way. "I know…" she replied softly, her voice barely audible above the sound of her own heartbeat.

Manjiro's thumb traced a slow, soothing pattern against her cheekbone, his touch a silent reassurance amidst the storm of emotions raging within her. Finally, after a long moment of silence, he speaks up “Fall in love again…”

His words are unexpected but she also makes no move to pull back from him. “Is that an order, Mr. Sano?”

Finally, Manjiro smiles. It’s genuine. Or at least it seems genuine. “Yes. Yes it is”

“Did you call the clean-up crew?” Ran asks Koko who’s cleaning the blood of his shoes

Koko nods wordlessly, a look of annoyance on his face as he had just bought these damn shoes yesterday. “Let’s go back up” Takeomi says as he lights a cigarette, stepping over a dead body of one of the businessmen

“Maybe not” Kakucho interjects as his eyes are on his phone, cheeks a little flushed

He shoves it into his pocket and shakes his head at his fellow colleagues. For a moment they’re silent until— “fuckin’ hell” Mochi grumbles as he transfers 10 thousand into Ran’s account

“See I fuckin’ told you he’d fuck her” Ran says with a shrug, eyes lighting up at the notification on his phone signalling the transfer had been made and completed

Their conversation is cut out with a loud scream as Sanzu stabs his katana through her ex’s chest. They look towards him and the pink-haired male simply shrugs.

#tokyo revengers #mikey sano #sano mikey manjiro #tokyo rev #tokyo revengers fandom #sano manjiro #bonten mikey #bonten future timeline #manjiro sano #tokyo manji gang #bonten #bonten!mikey

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abditoryhq · 6 days

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hi gang ! with coachella coming to an end, abditory came up with the perfect way for you relax and rejuvenate yourselves after a whirlwind of a festival. come and join us for our post coachella retreat in CABO san lucas, MÉXICO from APRIL 23 - 28 !

escape the bustle of coachella's electric atmosphere and indulge in a post-festival oasis at the serenity of NOBU LOS CABOS. nestled between the powdery-soft sands, lush green view and right on the edge of the crystal clear ocean , NOBU HOTEL offers a tranquil haven for festival-goers seeking rejuvenation and relaxation after days of music, dancing, and excitement. whether you seek solace or social connection, our post coachella retreat offers an unforgettable blend of luxury and serenity, ensuring your festival experience concludes with the ultimate indulgence.

APRIL 23 - arrival to NOBU in CABO san lucas, mx

dinner and cocktail welcome hour ! get acquainted with your home for the next few days by enjoying the delicious food and signature cocktails that nobu has to offer ! the event will be all day long, so you can enjoy your time by the pool, on the beach, or simply unwind before it's time to settle in for the welcome dinner ! ☞ guests can book their room or suite at the front desk on arrival. deluxe rooms, junior suites and zen suites are available for guests to choose from for the duration of their stay.

APRIL 24 - optional activities outside of the resort or free day + within the resort.

enjoy an early start with an optional whale watching and snorkeling day trip that'll take you outside of the resort and down into the beautiful sea surrounding cabo, where you can experience a face to face encounter with blue whales. you will spend a few hours enjoying these amazing creatures before returning closer to the shore to enjoy some snorkeling or laying around on the beach. if this first activity is a bit too much for you, feel free to enjoy all the amenities that nobu has to offer including spa services, several pools, golf courses, dining & cocktails, plus more ! for those seeking relaxation, the resort offers a plethora of wellness amenities to soothe mind, body, and soul. refresh yourself with a dip in the hydrotherapy pool, unwind with a soothing massage in the tranquil spa pavilion, or practice yoga amidst the serene surroundings of the resort's outdoor gardens.

APRIL 25 - outside of resort tequila tasting trip/playa del amor.

take a trip to the aptly named playa del amor, where you can enjoy some time with your friends or better half. experience the soft sands, stunning crystal blue water, and relax for a few hours before heading out on a tequila tasting trip. you'll get an in depth history and guide to the best tequila that méxico has to offer.

APRIL 26 & 27 - free days for guests to make the most of their stay.

guests can relax inside the resort, or organize their own activities if they wish to do so in the cabo area. rentals and tour guides to explore the local area will be available at the front desk.

APRIL 28 - last day at cabo. parting party starting from 12pm onwards - free food, free drinks, poolside activities, etc.

as the sun sets, gather around a crackling fire pit under the velvet sky, sipping artisanal cocktails and dance the night away with your pals and fellow retreat-goers. or, retreat to the privacy of your accommodation for a peaceful night's rest.

OOC NOTE : this is an optional event, but we highly encourage muses to attend. the event is open to all muses, whether they made it to coachella or not. all expenses inside the resort will be paid for by a partnership with the covert owners at abditory estate. similarly to the original plot, a few resort staff will be keeping a close watch on their VIP guests, instructed by gossip mongers to leak intel on their guests. writers are urged to use this event as a chance to create some drama at the resort, and to get the scoop flowing through their sideblogs.

#abditory.update #abditory.event

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lilacskiesapothecary · 5 months

Text

“…The Red Room…”

Bakugou x You

🔥smut, language🔥

Kirishima, managed to talk Bakugou into taking a break from his intense training and visit the local nightclubs in the city. Bakugou wasn’t really on board for going out, but the squad was relentless and wouldn’t stop until he obliged. As they made it into town the squad devised a plan of all the clubs they were going to hit. Bakugou rolled his eyes at their excitement but could admit that it was nice to get away and take a break. They bounced around different clubs, Bakugou nursed his drinks as the others danced and socialized. Unfortunately he was kinda banned from being on the dance floor, as he’s the resident Hot Head a crowd of people doesn’t do well for Bakugou.

Just as he was getting comfortable in his spot, the gang decided that they wanted to find a different club as this one didn’t have the vibe they were looking for. Grouchy, Bakugou followed his crew as they began going to an unfamiliar part of the nightclub district. Watching people going in and out of the alleyways struck curiosity in the gang, so they followed a couple rushing into tight alley. It was dark with only a bit of light from the door at the end of the alley. And Bakugou is sure he heard the faint sound of music. As they stepped inside, the vibrant lights and pulsating music immediately catch their attention.

This club called The Red Room was…different. It was as if they transported to a different world. This club was like stepping into a world of glamour, excitement, and seduction. The stage is set with dazzling lights, plush velvet curtains, and an atmosphere that's both alluring and playful. As the music starts and the curtain lifts, the squad notices the performers on stage, captivating the audience with their mesmerizing dance routines, tantalizing costumes, and cheeky humor. However, something is off… something about the main performer was strangely familiar to the guys. Little did they know, The Red Room was hosting a special performance that night, and you were taking main stage!

You not knowing your colleagues were in attendance, took the stage with confidence, your voice filling the room as you belted out the song and dance number. The crowd was captivated by the sway in your hips and the strength in your voice, and the energy in the room was electrifying.

Suddenly, Bakugou's eyes widened in realization that it’s…you. He knew your quirk had the ability to control things with your voice, but this was different. You were different… The way you took charge on that stage, and the costume you were wearing “…Fuck…” The white corset embedded with pearls and diamonds was doing amazing things with your body that Bakugou could barely breathe properly. And your ass…was hypnotizing him in that matching white lace panties.

He couldn't believe he stumbled upon your little secret, but he was secretly thankful that the squad brought him out tonight. Once the rest of the squad realized it was you they were so excited and pumped to see their friend, they immediately dragged Bakugou out of his trance to find the backstage. They catch you just as you’re running out the door in your coat with your duffel bag. “Y/N!”

“Oh shit…” You said barely above a whisper The panic set in, your colleagues were standing in front of you right outside your secret place. The brief awkward moment was broken up by an eruption of cheers and applause from your peers. You even noticed a slight smirk on Bakugous face, which made your heart flutter a little.

After all the commotion settled down the squad offered to walk you back to the dorm. You graciously accepted having some extra company on your way home. All the way home however you noticed Bakugou staying close beside you and he would glance over at you every so often. It made you a little nervous because wtf is on his mind.

You all finally made it back and by this time your feet were killing you. You thanked the squad for walking you back home and thanked them for watching your performance. You managed to hobble to your room when you had the odd feeling someone was behind you. You spun around and there was Bakugou glaring at you. “What?” You asked a little harshly, between the late hour, your feet and the corset you still had on you were a little short on patience. “You won’t be any good at being an actual opponent to me if you’re not taking care of your stupid feet.”

Bakugou opened the door to your room and walked over to your bed “Sit down and let me see them.” If your feet weren’t killing you would put up a fight. But giving your feet a rest is something you’d sell your quirk for right now. You sat down watching Bakugou with a quickness undo the clasps on your high heels and begin to rub your aching feet. And to your surprise this man actually knows how to use his hands for more than just fighting because you tilted you head back and an accidental moan came out of your mouth. You shot your head up and saw bakugou had stopped rubbing your feet and his eyes were staring back at you…in a hungry way. “S..sorry… I didn’t…” you stammered “Shut Up” he said and stood up to hover over you.

You could see his hard on through his pants. You’d be lying to say you didn’t want to see him fully naked right then and there. A brief moment of silence and looking into each others eyes was broken when Bakugou crashed his lips to yours. You kissed him back fiercely letting him know you needed him just as much as he needed you. His hands went straight for the buttons on your coat and quickly undid them without breaking the kiss. Bakugou nearly came when he opened your coat to see you were still in your costume from earlier. The white looked gorgeous against your heated skin he almost didn’t want to take it off you. However Bakugou wanted all of you so he skillfully took off your corset while sending hickies down your neck and shoulders.

Once the corset was off you were a sight to behold in nothing but those white lace panties. Bakugou threw his own clothes off and began stroking his cock at the sight of you. “Let me see all that pretty mouth can do” he said with lust blown eyes. You forgetting about the pain in your feet got down on your knees and took every last inch of him in your mouth. Bakugou moaned at the sensation of your wet mouth on his tender cock, and began thrusting into your mouth. Watching Bakugou throw his head back moan, and curse had your cunt dripping wet. You fell into the rhythm his cock was going in and out of your mouth you began to massage his balls to add a little razzle dazzle.

You were getting comfortable until Bakugou flips you back on the bed to where you’re ass up and rips your lace panties off and pushes his cock between your wet lips “Shit…your tight.”Is all Bakugou can manage out before he starts his rhythm in and out of your cunt again. You almost see stars bakugous thick cock inside you hitting all the right spots. You look back a Bakugou losing himself in you. His breathing becoming ridged he was close and so where you. A few more strokes and you cum so hard you feel you might pass out. Bakugou came right after you painting your walls with his cum.

Bakugou lays down next to you and you look at him and start to giggle. “Shut Up… and I’m coming to your next show” he said and kissed you once more before you both fell asleep.

🔥He’s BACK! Our most popular Soap Bar!!! We’ve made some changes and can’t wait to share with you all!🔥

⚡️Dont forget to check out the rest of our Black Friday Deals on Soap, Body Butter and Fragrances ⚡️

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blueraineshadows · 10 days

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Blood Bound Part 7

Sebastian Sallow 🔺️ F!MC 🔺️ Leander Prewett

Whilst Sebastian falls even deeper into darkness, MC heads into the Ministry for the return of her wand. Drowning in her own struggles, faces from the past offer glimpses of light in the darkness as she gravitates even closer towards her Auror.

14.7k words. Tags: NSFW / Violence / dark magic / torture / physical injury and self harm / murder / mental health struggles / sexual tension / angst

Chapter Master List and Ao3

Taglist at the end

Seven: Full Dark, Hints of Stars

Sebastian

Night was settling over London, shadows deepening in the twists and turns of Knockturn Alley, and the clientele in The Black Rose pub were just getting started. It was the place to go when one wanted to escape reality for a while, losing oneself within the alcohol and the boys and ladies of the night. The bar room was a heated, rowdy crowd, raucous laughter driving Sebastian into the calmer and more private area at the rear of the pub, seated in a quiet corner whilst those in Rookwood’s inner circle sat around the large table and played their cards.

Sebastian twirled his whiskey glass in his hand, the amber liquid shimmering in the glow of the lamp light, the burn of it on his tongue from the few sips he had taken tempting him to drain the fiery brew and scorch out the gloom that settled around him like a familiar cloak. Brooding over his run-in with Anne, he couldn’t shake that old fiend loneliness, his chest aching with the need to feel like he belonged somewhere. It curled and coiled like a snake, waiting to strike at him, tearing him up until the call of the whiskey or the fighting pit won out.

Where was she? Where was MC?

Nobody had seen her, no sightings by those he had asked, and none of the members of the gang had heard any whispers where she was concerned. It was like she had vanished as soon as she had stepped out of that cold fortress, and Prewett had disappeared with her. Skulking around outside the Ministry in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the Auror had turned up nothing. Another visit to Weasley proved fruitless, and Andrew Larson was annoyingly close-lipped, merely promising to pass on another message and nothing more.

Someone had to know where she had gone.

Pulled from his moping thoughts by the sounds of a struggle outside the door, he turned his head in that direction as some of the gang members began to stand. The door burst open, Marvolo dragging a whimpering man in with him, Rookwood strolling in behind them, his blue eyes like chips of ice. Sebastian fought the urge to sneer in disdain at the theatrical stroll that Rookwood cut as he crossed the room, seating himself in a chair next to Carrow who was taunting the young, male whore he favoured.

All attention was on Marvolo as he shoved the trembling man to the floor, brushing off his black velvet waistcoat as if it had been tainted by the poor wretch, the harsh lines of his face frozen in a look of hatred as he stood menacingly over him.

“Behold, ladies and gentlemen, we have discovered a rather nasty little rat in our midst,” Rookwood said, gesturing towards the man on the floor. Sebastian sat up for a closer look, his eyes narrowing. “This rat has been whispering in the ears of our good friend, Auror Harrington. Now, what do we think about this?”

Sebastian put down his glass and stood, stepping forward slowly. He recognised the name of that Auror. He had seen it written in the visitors ledger at Azkaban next to MC’s prisoner number, and he had seen the man himself down in the pits with Prewett. As his boots drew closer towards where the man had got onto his hands and knees, Sebastian slid his wand from his holster. He recognised the man as one of Rookwood’s messenger runners. He would have known details regarding the prison break, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he had blabbed the news to the Auror.

The tip of his wand touched under the man’s chin, making him flinch, his eyes reluctantly looking upwards at Sebastian’s face. “You told them we were going to get her out, didn’t you? You let me go into Azkaban knowing that Aurors would be aware of it.”

“N-no, no,” he protested feebly, shaking his head as tears flooded his eyes. “I didn’t tell them that.”

“You told them something, though, didn’t you little rat?” Marvolo hissed, swinging a foot to kick at the bloke’s side, sending him sprawling to the floor again. “Dirty rats who squeal get punished. How should we punish you, hmm? Perhaps we could remove your tongue so that you can’t spread secrets anymore.”

Sebastian felt the shadows closing in. All the darkness that he tried to fight back began to curl around him with welcoming arms, pushing inwards and making him quiver with anticipation. His fingers flexed slowly around his wand, and he shifted his gaze towards Marvolo, who met his eyes with a cold smirk.

“He almost dropped you in it, Sallow. He told the Aurors about the prison break. It probably led to them moving our little witch out of our reach,” he said, his words dripping with icy malice. “Hurt him.”

Staring down at the rat, his shadows beginning to smother him, Sebastian raised his wand arm, the darkness blooming in his eyes as he aimed. They had taken MC away because of him. It was his fault. The words were like a whispering mantra, twisting through his head as he summoned the desire needed to do what had to be done. Cold calm slid over him and his eyes narrowed, his intent so fierce that he barely registered the look of horror on the rat’s face as he flicked his wrist, the end of his wand blistering with red.

“Crucio!”

The screams that filled the room seemed to echo off the walls, a horrifying sound that made shivers travel down Sebastian’s spine, like fingernails down a blackboard but a million times louder. The coldness and terror of Azkaban seemed to flow through his veins, the image of the old hag spitting and screaming on the stone floor filling his head as the man writhed on the floor before him in a cruel mimicry. That coldness seeped slowly towards his heart, the thud of its life force filling his ears as darkness claimed him for its own. He felt the pull of it, the urge to intensify the pain inflicted as the yearning filled him to see MC’s face.

For her. He would do anything for her. Even this.

His hand twisted, and the screams became broken, high-pitched sounds that had the others in the room wincing and turning away, but Sebastian kept steady. He couldn’t seem to let it go, all the turmoil trapped behind his ribs, channelling down his arm and through the end of his wand in a scorching blast of red.

“Enough,” Marvolo said firmly, his hand grabbing at Sebastian’s wrist, his fingers cold and hard. He met Sebastian’s eyes, his glare dark and glittering with warning, jarring Sebastian out of his trance. “Enough.”

Blinking, the black fog clearing a little, Sebastian looked down at the man on the floor, breathing harshly at the sight of the blood coming from his nose and mouth. Shocked, he relinquished the spell, his hands shaking as he took a step back and rubbed a hand over his face. The realisation that he had almost lost himself there for a moment made him shudder. Casting a glance around the room, he realised that everyone was staring at him, there was fear in the depths of the eyes of a few, but Rookwood was watching him with a cold curiosity that made him grit his teeth and straighten his spine.

“It might be worth those present noting not to cross you, Sallow,” Rookwood said silkily, rising to his feet. “That was quite the performance.”

Sebastian remained silent, but a few others in the room exchanged looks and stepped back. Breathing heavily through his nose, Sebastian kept his feet planted despite the wobbly feeling in his legs. Rookwood turned his gaze towards Marvolo and gave a subtle nod.

Marvolo calmly took out his wand and aimed at the twitching, garbled mess of a man on the floor. The poor bastard had pissed himself, his fingers in the shape of claws as he tried to gather himself against the pain riddled agony his body had endured. Sebastian felt the first glimmers of shame sink through him and expected death to erupt from Marvolo’s wand as the final blow. But, he was wrong.

“Magicus Extractio,” Marvolo uttered, his voice frigid calm as wisps of silvery white swirled from his wand and made for the man’s chest.

The room became utterly silent as the man arched up off the floor, the agony on his face almost too much to bear as Sebastian felt horrified realisation slam into his mind.

No. This couldn’t be happening.

Six years ago, he had persuaded Ominis to open the Scriptorium below Hogwarts, a day he would never forget. In doing so, he had laid hands on a most valuable spellbook. A grimoire written by the hand of Slytherin himself. Delighted and hungry to devour the secrets of such a man, Sebastian had spent hours poring over that book, committing to memory some of the darkest words to have been inked that he had ever seen.

With fascinated horror, he fixed his eyes on Marvolo, the cold mask of his face eerie from the glow of his spell casting. Marvolo had Slytherin’s blood in his veins. Like Ominis, he was a descendant of that most clever but dark souled man. Clearly, it was more than blood that had been passed down through his lineage. The grim satisfaction on Marvolo’s face made Sebastian swallow hard as strands of light began to be extracted from the man on the floor.

It was as Sebastian had suspected. The incantation had been exactly the spell he had remembered, and he was frozen still with the horror that Marvolo dared cast it. This was a fate worse than death for a witch or wizard, to have one’s magic syphoned from their bodies, robbed of their abilities and their birthright by the casting of a most dreadful spell.

The man could do nothing but struggle feebly like a rag doll as his magic left his body, gathering above him in a swirl of golden light, the threads of it glittering and shimmering with such beauty in the room. Sebastian felt the burn of tears in his eyes, his horror turning to bitter grief as he imagined such a thing being done to him. It was unbearable to even imagine, and yet he did nothing. He stood there and watched as a wizard was robbed of something so personal and precious.

“It worked,” Rookwood said with awe, moving closer to stare at the beauty of the magic, reaching out a hand towards it. “Now, all we need to find out is how to absorb it.”

Sebastian stared in shock. “Absorb it?”

His words may have been breathless, but Rookwood heard him well enough. He turned sly eyes Sebastian’s way. “Of course,” he said softly. “It would be a shame to waste such power. Don’t you agree?”

“We don’t know the spellwork for that part yet,” Marvolo said, shrugging. “But, we will. For now, sadly, this one is useless.”

With a flick of his wrist, he cast towards the shimmering magic swirls, and they engulfed into flame, burning away quickly until nothing was left. Gone.

Sinking back down to the floor, the man looked wasted, drained and empty, his eyes glassy as he stared unblinking up at the ceiling. Rookwood frowned down at him and nudged him with a polished boot. “Oh dear, it would appear our little rat is dead,” he said, without a sliver of remorse to his tone. He turned to one of the men standing nearby. “Get rid of him, will you? I’d rather not have him stinking up the place.”

Rookwood and Marvolo were both cold bastards, their indifference almost harsher than the brutal acts they performed. Watching the essence of the man's magic evaporating into flames had been gut churning enough, but it made bile burn in Sebastian’s throat as he wondered what Rookwood had meant about absorbing it.

Sebastian began to back up, rubbing his forehead as he tried to process what he had just witnessed, his heart thudding so hard behind his ribs that he was fighting for his breaths. Turning his back on Rookwood and Marvolo, he heard the scramble as the deceased man was hoisted from the room, no doubt headed out to become a cadaver for the Body Snatchers who loitered at the far end of Knockturn Alley. Grabbing up the glass he had put down before, he threw back the contents, wincing at the burn of the whiskey as it went down.

Killing a man would be kinder. To extract his magic was quite another. The violation of it had left Sebastian speechless, and he felt as though the water level had enclosed over his head. He was drowning in darkness, his eyes wide and unseeing as he tried to get hold of himself.

Unable to bear the enclosed grimness of the room a moment longer, he headed for the door, slamming it open and striding with purpose down the hallway. He vaguely heard his name being hollered after him, but he kept walking. He didn't even know where he was headed, and when he found himself in a shadowed alleyway, the brick dark and the air foul, he stopped. Bracing a hand against the rough brick, he bent forward and retched, losing the contents of his stomach as shameful guilt slammed him from all sides.

He hadn't even asked the man's name. He had wrought such pain on him, blamed him for MC being missing, and then stood by as Marvolo sucked his magical ability from him. The savageness of such acts had been too much, and the man had lost his life, the ultimate sacrifice unwillingly given.

Eyes burning, a whimper left Sebastian’s lips as he shrugged his left arm from his jacket and unbuttoned his cuff, yanking up the sleeve of his shirt to expose a tally of black lines on his inner forearm. The first tear escaped his eye as he fumbled for his wand, and he sniffed it back, gritting his teeth as he aimed to scorch one more black line in the tally.

He groaned, his breath hissing through his gritted teeth at the sting of it, but he berated himself for being such a coward. This pain was nothing compared to what he had inflicted on that poor soul. Once the new black line had been added, he stared at the marks on the inside of his forearm, stark against the paleness of his skin. He may not have dealt the final death blow, but he had played a part in that back there. It was worthy of the added reminder.

His count of lives stolen was growing, and he fought back the burn of more tears, too scared to imagine how many more lines he may need to add before his revenge was done. It was always said that the first one was the worst, but he carried the guilt of every single one.

Pulling down his shirt sleeve and straightening his jacket, Sebastian wiped the dampness from his cheek, the shadows draping him in a darkness he feared he would walk in forever.

This couldn't be all there was. He had never meant for things to get this bad. He had never meant to go this far. He was losing himself day by day. He closed his eyes and thought of Anne, imagining her looking well, her skin glowing with health and happiness. He thought of MC, her smile, the way her eyes used to twinkle when she met his gaze, the fire in her soul when she fought at his side.

Oh, how he ached for both of his girls. This was all for them.

He took the blood amulet locket from his pocket, his thumb caressing the joined blood of the pact, the ruby red stone still managing to shimmer in the utter dark of the alley. He brought it to his mouth, closing his eyes as he pressed his lips to it in a kiss, clinging on to the bond it represented to try and ease the gaping hole of dark in his chest.

Looking upwards, he tried to seek out the glimmer of the stars, but as usual, the smog of London obliterated such beauty. He was down amongst the scum and filth of the city. How he longed to be out of it, but where would he go? Back to that empty, cold house in Scotland? There was nothing for him there. Only memories that ripped at his insides. No, he needed to be here. He needed to find MC and finish Rookwood. He needed to cure his sister.

Straightening up, he turned back for the main path. The night wasn’t over yet. There was still work to be done.

The bustle of witches and wizards passing her by as they arrived and exited the Ministry was a cacophony of noise that seemed unbearably loud after the desolate silence of the beach house. MC felt the now familiar tightening of apprehension as she watched all manner of people about their business, unconsciously taking a closer step towards Leander, who walked along beside her. Unperturbed by the crowds, he walked with confidence, even nodding his greetings to some as they made their way past many Floo network fireplaces.

After so long in solitude, it was going to take some time getting used to being around so many people.

Not one to let her insecurities show, MC set her face into one of careful neutrality and walked onwards, the effects of the speedy Floo Travel giving her legs a wobbly sensation. Looking up and around, MC's gaze took in the grandeur that was the Ministry Atrium, glossy tiles and polished wood floor, a curved arch of a ceiling lending it a feel similar to the style of the new Underground train stations. It was her first time in this part of the Ministry, and she took the opportunity to soak up everything that she had missed out on when they had hauled her to the prisoner holding bay in the depths of the establishment. This world of magic still had the power to amaze and awe a person.

Today, she arrived as a visitor. Still accompanied by an Auror, but here for a more positive reason than the arrest of murder. Today, Leander had brought her here to return her wand into her possession. The hunger and anticipation to hold it in her hand gave her the strength to hold back her anxiety at being so exposed in public, to be reunited with her wand would surely mean to feel whole again.

Pausing by the Fountain of Magical Brethren, she took a moment to listen to the spray of the water, the droplets shimmering on the gold of the statues. The one of the centaur reminded her of the time she had spoken to those who lived in the Forbidden Forest. It led her thoughts towards Poppy, the girl who had joined her on more than one adventure to protect beasts. Wondering where Poppy was now, MC wrapped her arms about herself, conscious of the curious stares fixed on her from those who had taken notice of her presence.

She had seen the article in The Daily Prophet announcing her release into the world, her prisoner photograph printed for all to see. A murderer, free to walk the streets. There was no outright hostility on the faces turned her way, but none of them bore smiles either. No doubt those she had once called friends would be the same way, blank and indifferent towards a girl they thought they had known, but she no longer fit into their lives.

A light touch to her elbow made her look up, Leander’s soft gaze unfailing as he nodded towards a security desk. “I need to check you in as a visitor, and then we can go down to the basement level to collect your wand. Are you alright?”

Taking a steadying breath, MC nodded and let him escort her towards the desk, his touch at her elbow so light it was barely there. Sliding a sideways glance up at him, her gaze lingered over the neatly combed hair and close shaved skin, his mouth invitingly soft as he smiled at the witch behind the desk. Ever since the kiss they had shared in his kitchen, he had been so achingly polite, courteous, and kind.

It had been what she had wanted, what she had asked for, and he was respecting her wishes. He was a true gentleman, acting cordially and respectfully, despite those moments when she would catch his eyes and have the breath stolen from her lungs at what she found there.

He would hide it quickly, turning from her, a flush spreading across his cheeks and up his neck. Despite the complications that would arise from anything developing between them, she could not help but wonder what may have been had she knocked on his bedroom door that night.

Despite her past misdemeanours, she had the feeling that Leander felt something towards her, and whatever form those feelings took, surely it wasn't a stretch to hope that others would accept her, too. Watching him present his Auror badge to the security witch, her gaze lingered over his hands, hands that had touched her with kindness and desire, a flutter of warmth dared to kindle in her chest.

Through the coldness of her loneliness and despair, perhaps she had nurtured some feelings for him, too. Fearing what that could mean, she hurriedly pushed those thoughts aside, not ready to examine the teases of warmth that glowed whenever she allowed her barriers to slip.

“Sign here, please.” The cool, firm voice of the security witch pulled MC from her thoughts, making her look into a pair of eyes that seemed hard and distant. “You need to sign the form to gain entry without a wand. I shall notify the Criminal Stores Office of your pending arrival.”

Hardening her features against the obvious disapproval on the witch's face, MC picked up the quill and signed her name on the dotted line, taking pride that her hand did not shake in the process. The parchment immediately folded itself into the shape of a bird before flapping its papery wings and taking flight, soaring off and upwards to join many more swooping above their heads.

“Let's go,” Leander said, lightly touching her elbow again. “We need to take a lift down to the basement level.”

Crowded into the rear corner of the lift as others began to pile in, MC stood rigid, her palms sweating at the close confinement as the lift lurched into motion. Her stomach dipped as the sensation of fast movement made her wobble on her feet, her hand darting out to steady herself and finding Leander’s robe.

He glanced downwards as her fingers curled into the fabric, the momentum of the lift pressing her against his side. Their eyes met, and she swallowed hard. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

“Not to worry,” he said, the faint smile on his lips accompanied by a blush as his hand positioned itself at her back to help steady her.

Even here, in a lift filled with Ministry workers who could hear and see everything, he was supporting her, refusing to let her flounder and fall. A gesture that was one of simple kindness, and yet it had the power to make her throat close with emotions too huge to deal with right now. It reminded her that he was the only anchor holding her steady as she readjusted to outside life, and it occurred to her that one day she would have to let him go. Lowering her gaze from gold flecked, brown eyes, she grit her teeth and waited for the lift to stop.

After 3 stops, her hand was still holding tightly to his robe, and the warmth of his palm on her back was a little too comforting. The urge to lean her head against his chest had been strong, but she had remained rigidly upright. As the last remaining witch and wizard who were with them disembarked, Leander’s hand slid away.

“This is us,” he said, nodding out at a shadowed corridor she recognised.

Reluctantly, she let go of him and followed him out into the tiled hallway, the dark green gloss of the tiles reflecting light in an eerie glow. The last time she had walked along here, she had been in chains.

Memories crashed through her head of that day, the weight of the chains, the burn of her eyes from the tears she'd cried. Sebastian’s pleas to let her go still ringing in her ears after they had ripped her from his desperate grip. She remembered the fury of the betrayal, Anne’s lies leading her towards a sentence serving time for a murder she didn't commit.

Her breathing quickened as the memories swamped her, her hands twisting anxiously as she tried to block the image of Anne’s face from her thoughts. How could she not hate that manipulative bitch?

The searing burn began to snake through her blood, her pact to never hurt Sebastian reminding her that to wish pain on one twin was to destroy the other. Gasping at the burn, MC put a hand to her heart as it throbbed, pausing to press her other palm to the coolness of the tiled wall.

“What is it?” Leander asked, a look of concern creasing his brow as he turned to her.

“This place,” she muttered through tight lips. “It's not exactly filled with fond memories.”

“Of course,” he nodded, wincing slightly as he carefully took her elbow. “It's not much further, and we can get off this level as soon as you have your wand, I promise.”

Breathing slowly, MC nodded and let him escort her down the hallway, their echoing footsteps joined by another set as they rounded a corner. MC gasped aloud, coming to an abrupt halt as she took in the familiar figure of Ominis with his wand held aloft so he could find his way, the tip blinking red. He, too, came to a pause when he realised they were blocking his way.

The cool, haughty look on his face was very much how she remembered the boy, but the man cut a fine figure standing before her now. Tall, almost as tall as Leander, slim and dressed impeccably in a black suit, his blonde hair slightly shorter than she remembered, Ominis had grown to be very handsome indeed.

“Ominis,” she said, a swell of emotion blooming behind her ribs as she remembered fond moments spent in his company.

Ominis tilted his head, his mouth parting slightly as his sightless eyes moved quickly from side to side. He angled his wand in the direction her voice had come from. “Announce yourselves,” he said, an air of command laced through the softly spoken words.

Leander cleared his throat, his eyes darting between her and Ominis. “Good morning, Ominis. It's Leander Prewett standing before you, along with an old friend of yours.”

Ominis raised his eyebrows, his mouth pursed in thought. “Intriguing,” he said softly, turning to fully face MC now. “Is it really you, MC?”

“It is,” she said, her voice catching slightly as her eyes stung. Faced with a former friend, her worries clawed at her insides, the fear of being rejected needling at her as she waited.

The moment stretched in the eerie silence of the corridor, and MC glanced towards Leander, an odd feeling shivering down her spine as she expected the backlash of the last four years to pour from Ominis’ mouth in a lecture. However, his brow smoothed into a look that could almost be described as soft, a hesitant hand reaching towards her.

“Are you well?” He asked, his head tilting slightly.

“According to the Healer, I am as fit as a fiddle,” she said, knowing that while her body was regaining its strength, her mind was still trapped back in that cell.

Ominis stretched his hand out towards her a little more, and she looked down at it. Knowing how reluctant Ominis could be regarding physical intimacy, she hesitated before she let her fingers touch against his, the coolness of his hand immediately wrapping around hers, bringing a lump to her throat.

“Why don’t I give you a moment to get reacquainted,” Leander said, offering MC a smile. “I will go on to the reception and get things started. You can come along and find me when you are done. Is that alright?”

Her eyes widened as she looked up at Leander. “You’re leaving me unattended?”

His smile faltered a little, a flicker of sadness appearing on his face. “MC, you’re not a prisoner anymore. You need to remember that. I won’t be far away, and Ominis can point you in the right direction if you’re unsure.”

“Of course,” Ominis said, inclining his head towards Leander. Amusement teased at his lips. “Don’t worry. I shall escort her back to your side, Prewett.”

Leander looked uncertain for a moment, a frown creasing his brow as he looked at Ominis, but with a reassuring smile towards her, he turned and walked away down the corridor. MC watched him stride away, a fist of panic lodging in her chest as he disappeared around a corner. With him out of sight, it felt like a safety net had been stripped from underneath her, and her hand gripped Ominis tightly as she swallowed hard.

“Prewett has been taking care of you,” Ominis said shrewdly, stepping closer towards her. “Are you really alright, MC? Azkaban is a terrible place. It did not wholly sit right with me what happened to you.”

The tightness in her chest stretched to snapping point, being here and speaking of such things stirring up memories she didn’t care to revisit, her features twisting with painful grief. “Not enough to stop it from happening, though. Anne lied, and nobody stopped her, not you, not even Sebastian.”

The sharp twist of bitterness at the mention of their lack of help made her release his hand, a shaky breath leaving her lips. Hating how vulnerable she felt in that moment, she backed against the wall, her hands splayed against the cold hardness of the tiles behind her as she put up the familiar mental barriers around herself. These mental wards had been a defence against the Dementors whilst incarcerated. Now, they were protecting her from the unfamiliar world outside and the emotional daggers she feared being cast in her direction.

“I am sorry, MC,” Ominis said, bowing his head slightly. “You are right. I did nothing back then. I can only imagine the horrors you have faced, but I have sought to remedy my lack of action when I was younger. I have a seat on the Wizengamot, and when your case was presented to us for review, I voted in favour of your release.”

Her eyes took in the smartness of his suit again, trying to picture him seated in the courtroom, making judgement on a person’s crime, and realised that it wasn’t so hard to imagine. As students together, he had always been the moral compass trying to urge her and Sebastian to make better choices. She wondered if he was still close with Sebastian considering his job now.

“So, if you sit for court, you know the terms of my release?”

“I do,” he said, one eyebrow curving upwards. “You must have agreed to them in order to be standing here. Do you think you can do it? Can you infiltrate the Ashwinders and help bring them down?”

“I will do what needs to be done. Rookwood won’t get away so easily this time,” she said, her taste for vengeance making her fingers flex.

Ominis hummed thoughtfully, his head tilting at an almost predatory angle. “Even if that means bringing Sebastian down with him?”

The image of Sebastian in Leander’s case notes came to her, blending with the memories that she had clung so fiercely to whilst in prison, and a deep, aching longing filled her chest. Has the bond she had cherished in her protected heart been lost? Perhaps it had been too long. Maybe what they had felt when they were younger was no more than childish whims, but the thought of letting that all go felt like tearing off a chunk of herself.

“Have you seen him? Has he really aligned himself with Rookwood?” There was hope in her voice despite her efforts to remain neutral.

Ominis sighed, shaking his head with a resigned look of despair on his face, his pale, sightless eyes almost luminous in the shadowed corridor. “Sebastian is on a path of self destruction, and I honestly can’t see how he will find any kind of redemption without a small miracle. You know what he is like, stubborn and prone to fixating on his own goals regardless of the consequences. I won’t lie. I fear for him. I can only hope that you choose a better path for yourself, MC. Do not lose yourself in acts of revenge. Don’t bow down to Sebastian’s folly. That’s not what made me vote for your freedom.”

“Why did you vote for my release?”

“A second chance at life, MC. A life that uses your potential, for you are a wonderfully gifted witch,” he said, leaning forward slightly with a small smile. “Don’t waste it. The next time I read your name in the newspaper, I want it to be regarding good things. I never imagined you as the villain in your story.”

Taken back to late nights in the common room at Hogwarts when they would read and discuss the novels they had enjoyed together, MC felt a lump stick in her throat as she stared at her old friend. He had not dismissed her, or cast her aside like gutter filth. He did not paint her as a villain, but then, he did not know about the darkness that lingered inside of her. His despair for Sebastian should cloak her, too, for they shared a kindred spirit. She had nursed her thirst for revenge, and the path was already there under her feet, and she would walk it, even if she had to do it alone.

“I thank you for the chance, Ominis,” she said, her voice tinged with an edge of sadness. “I never wanted to be a villain, but sometimes one must walk through the darkness in order to do what must be done. I will fulfil the terms of my probation, but I can’t promise that my methods will meet your approval. I’m not sure I am cut out to be the hero of the story, either.”

“Just be careful, MC,” he said, his brows drawing together. He reached out his hand again, his fingers tentatively brushing against her arm before withdrawing back into the comfort of his own space. MC noted the gleam of a wedding band on his finger, her gaze curious as she studied him. A respected job in the Ministry and a wife. All signs of how life had moved on without her whilst she drifted in cold darkness. Her loneliness yawned in her chest.

“Don’t worry about me, Ominis. I am a survivor.”

….*….

The slim, black box sat upon the table in the Criminal Stores Office, just a box with no fancy design, and yet it contained something so deeply valuable to her. MC could feel the disapproval drifting from the woman guard standing on the other side of the table, her eyes slightly narrowed as she waited for MC to open the box. Four years ago, her wand had been taken from her possession after her arrest, placed into this box, and stored away. MC had been lost without it. It felt like she had been only just becoming one with the smooth piece of wood, the contours of it becoming as familiar to her as her own hand through the use of it.

Reaching out to remove the lid of the box, revealing her wand nestled in a soft bed, the memory of the day it had chosen her inside Ollivander’s shop flooded through her. The feeling of holding it within her grasp compared to nothing else, and as she plucked it out of the box now, her eyes burned at the feeling of it against her fingers. Smoothing her touch along the wood, she took a steadying breath, allowing the moment to sink in as she reacquainted herself with her connection to her magic.

The wand chooses the wizard, she was told, and her wand had chosen the tempest of ancient magic that slumbered in her veins. She could feel it now, pulsing with eager energy now that there was a conduit to release its power. Gripping the handle of the wand, she held it up, her ancient magic simmering and throbbing with the need to be released, but she remained steady as she gazed at the graceful twist of the pale wood. This was neither the time or the place, and she had another spell in mind to cast first. She swallowed and uttered the charm.

“Lumos!”

After so long in the darkness, the simple matter of seeking out a spark of light was enough to bring the sheen of tears to her eyes. Holding her wand up, the orb of light glowed in the office, reflecting off the pale skin of her face and making her eyes glitter like stars. With the return of her magic, she could do anything.

Villain, or hero? Ominis had urged her towards the light, but it was likely she would pull the shadows with her if she did. Whatever path she chose, it was ultimately her choice. Now, with her wand back within her grasp, her destiny was of her own making. She didn’t have to rely on others to save her. She could do that herself.

Movement at her side made her break from the reverie she held on the sphere of light, her gaze shifting towards Leander as she muttered the counter charm to put it out. Staring up at his brown eyes, she knew she had much to thank him for. The shifting feelings behind her ribs over him were enough to steal her breath sometimes. It scared her. She could admit that.

“How does it feel?” He asked, his lips curving into his familiar soft smile.

Almost smiling in return at the loaded question considering the thread of her thoughts, MC looked down at her wand in her hand, her fingers flexing as she considered her feelings. The thrum of ancient magic still begged for a release and she bit her lower lip, choosing to ignore the unfurling and simmering flame that teased at her whenever she looked too closely at him.

“It feels rather good,” she replied, a slight smirk playing on her mouth. “I also feel the urge to release some pent-up energy. I’m rather inspired to throw a few explosive spells around, you know, unleash some of the frustration at being locked up for so long.”

Her devilish eyes glanced towards the guard still standing opposite them, and the tightened expression of disapproval on her face brought out the full smirk onto MC’s lips. A familiar spark of mischievousness came to life within her, a freeing and exhilarating feeling that only charged the need to express her magic. Turning her gaze back towards Leander, she was intrigued to see a rather amused and playful smirk on his own lips.

“Plenty of time for that,” he said, and he even dropped her a wink that almost disarmed her completely. “Hold that thought.”

Leander

There was definitely something different about MC now that she had her wand returned to her. There was a spark in her eyes, a glimmer of the exciting young girl who had walked the halls of Hogwarts and turned his head when he had been an awkward teenage boy. He was still slightly awkward when it came to the opposite sex, but he was more settled in his own skin to know that she could still captivate him despite everything.

He could hardly tear his eyes away from her as they travelled in the lift together, her body pressed close as she held onto his arm, the speedy momentum of the vessel making them lean against one another whilst he held onto the strap above their heads. He couldn’t deny how good it felt to have her there, to feel her so close. It worried him that he was becoming too attached to her, and soon, she would be leaving to join the Ashwinder group.

He marvelled at his own restraint around her, the memory of her soft lips was seared into his mind, and the hunger to seek out more of the same kept him awake. The sensible part of his mind knew it was folly to dream, and yet he couldn’t help but sneak longing glances her way. Allowing her to be so close was a dangerous game, but one he was clearly playing, seemingly unable to resist the ease of placing a polite hand against her lower back, or touching her elbow to guide her through the myriad of corridors and turns of the Ministry Headquarters.

Stepping out of the lift at level two, Leander couldn’t help the burst of pride that showed in his smile as he guided MC along the red carpeted corridor. “Welcome to the British Auror Office,” he said, holding out his hand towards the doors that opened into his department.

“Are you sure I will be welcome here, Lee?” Her eyebrow curved upwards as they headed towards the doors. “I am a convicted Auror slayer, after all.”

“Don’t worry. We are just passing through,” he said, opening the doors and ushering her through first. “I want to ask Andrew a favour before we leave.”

Walking past the desk cubicles, curious glances were thrown their way as he led MC towards the research department. He noticed how she stiffened her spine, that cool mask of indifference slipping onto her face. Outward appearances did give her the look of a hardened woman, cold and capable of death, and he didn’t miss the disapproving frowns and curled lips of disgust as they passed some older Aurors. They didn’t know what lay beneath her hard exterior, the vulnerable and soft side of her that he had seen glimpses of over the last few weeks. He had seen her broken and lost. He had felt her fire under his hands and mouth, and he held his head up a little higher. He was not ashamed to walk beside her, and he touched his hand to her elbow in support as well as guidance as they approached the doors that they needed.

Taking her to Andrew Larson was a hope. The possibility that he might be able to turn up information that could help seemed like a step in the right direction. Through her vulnerability, MC had made him question everything that he had read in her file. She was just a young girl, and no more than a child when she had been thrust into this world of magic, blessed with a power so far out of comprehension and with limited knowledge on how to wield it. If there had been others before her, surely there had to be buried records somewhere.

He still couldn’t put the cold-hearted killer alongside the girl he had seen and spent time with and come up with a logical match. There had to be more to all of this, and his mind wouldn’t stop rooting around for answers.

He also wanted to help her, to keep her a part of his daily life, to build a stronger connection than just being here as her probation Auror. She really was more than just a job to him, despite the fact that he did indeed have a job to do.

Andrew was at his desk, files open before him, and he looked up as they approached. His smile of greeting faltered, and his eyes widened as he stared at MC, his hand pushing nervously through his hair as he got to his feet.

“Morning, Leander. I haven’t seen you for a few days. I was beginning to wonder if you were alright,” he said, his eyes anxious as they darted between him and MC.

The last time Leander had seen Andrew, he had been planning to go down into the duelling pit. Despite sending an owl since, Leander had been rather vague in his details, not wanting to put too much into writing. He nodded and offered Andrew a reassuring smile.

“I’m fine, Andrew, honestly,” he said, glancing at MC. “We have been going over details regarding the case and making plans to move forwards. It’s one of the reasons I am here, actually. There is something you might be able to help us with.”

“Oh?” Andrew’s gaze slid reluctantly towards MC. “What can I do for you?”

“I was rather hoping that your expert eye could seek out information from the archives on MC’s behalf, as a favour to me,” he said carefully. “As you know, she can wield ancient magic, but she isn’t the first to do so. I was hoping you might find evidence of others. It’s not exactly common knowledge, and everything appears to be shrouded in mystery.”

Andrew studied MC with interest, curious despite his obvious nervousness at being in her presence. Leander hoped that by appealing to Andrew’s love of research, and it being a subject matter so intriguing, it would work in their favour.

“You want me to open classified files and share information with…with MC?” Andrew asked, faltering on his words a little.

“With a criminal, you mean,” MC said, a cold smirk twisting her lips. She folded her arms and lifted her chin. “You can say it. There is no point trying to pretend it didn’t happen. I can promise you that any classified information you pass to me regarding my magic will remain a secret. I already have a dangerous man seeking me out because of what I can do, I definitely don’t want to encourage anyone else to do the same.”

A pink blush stained Andrew’s cheeks, and he scratched the back of his neck, shifting awkwardly. “Apologies, MC. I did not wish to offend,” he said. “I only hesitate because digging through old classified files might raise a few eyebrows if I’m not careful. The information could be dangerous in the wrong hands. Plus, I would need somewhere to start, a clue, perhaps. There are thousands upon thousands of files here in the archives, not to mention the library.”

“It would mean a lot to me if you could do this, Andrew. I would owe you one,” Leander said, a slight pleading edge to his voice.

He could feel MC’s eyes on him, knowing full well that he was going above and beyond his duty for her, and she knew it, too. He felt heat creeping into his own cheeks, but he stood firm and resolute, determined to do right by her.

MC stepped forward, her gaze softening slightly towards Andrew. “I understand the risks,” she said, unfolding her arms, her voice losing its cold edge. “I can give you some clues on where to start from what I know already, but I would ask that whatever I tell you must remain between us. As you said yourself, this information is dangerous in the wrong hands. Can I trust you, Andrew? I hope we can trust each other.”

The deep-rooted hunger for knowledge blazed in Andrew’s eyes. Leander had known him long enough to understand how excited he became at the prospect of learning about something new, remembering their conversations back in their school days during shared study sessions, and the times here at the Ministry working on cases together. The prospect of discovering the history behind ancient magic was surely tempting for the brilliant Ravenclaw, and his next words proved Leander’s theory.

“Alright, you have a deal,” he said, nodding. He even managed a shy smile in MC’s direction. “Tell me what you know, and I will see what I can find.”

“Brilliant. Thank you, Andrew,” Leander said, turning to look at MC. She met his eyes and returned his smile. He placed a hand lightly on her shoulder. “Do excuse me for a moment. I shall leave you to speak with Andrew whilst I pay a visit to my desk. I need to check on some paperwork. I won’t be long, I promise.”

Leaving them both staring awkwardly at one another, Leander hurried off towards his desk, finding it as neat as he had left it only days ago. Fiddling with his tie, he took a seat and checked his in-tray, flicking through the parchments and marking some notes in a little book he carried.

The delicate scent of perfume found his nose, and his desk creaked as Odessa McKinnon perched herself against the edge of it, her hand placed gently near his arm, her wrist adorned with an expensive looking bracelet. Looking up at her, he was greeted with narrowed eyes and a curious smirk.

“You have decided to make an appearance, then, Prewett,” she said, her gaze travelling slowly over him. He felt heat creep up his neck and resisted the urge to adjust his collar. “Where’s your little pet? I saw her walk in with you. She is looking well, you must be taking good care of her.”

The last time he had seen Odessa had been that night in the safe house, disappearing with MC in his arms and leaving her in a fit of temper. She no longer looked vexed, but there was a glint of something in her eyes that he couldn’t quite decipher. He sat up a bit straighter, smoothing his fingers down the front of his tie.

“Did you speak to Harrington?” He asked, deflecting her query about MC.

Her smirk did little to hide the curiosity in her gaze. “If you are referring to the little issue of a leak, I think he is no closer to the culprit than he was when he came blustering in here the other day. If you ask me, there is probably more than one. It isn’t exactly unheard of, and when you think about it, these things work both ways. Rookwood has snitches in his own camp, divulging secrets to us. It’s obvious there will be those who return the favour.”

“How can you be so calm about this?” Leander frowned. “We all swore oaths to serve and protect. How could anyone go against that? Certainly not anyone who stands for loyalty and justice.”

“Oh, sweetie, I just love how honourable you are,” she said, moving her hand to his forearm. “You are a rare soul who truly stands for honour. It is commendable and one of my favourite things about you. I mean, look how seriously you have taken the role of being MC’s probation Auror. Most wouldn’t have gone to such efforts for the likes of her. I just hope she doesn’t let you down, Leander.”

He looked down at Odessa’s hand, her fingers caressing gently against the sleeve of his jacket. She was leaning closer, smiling softly at him, and he felt warmth bloom across his cheeks.

“All MC needs to do is get us closer to Rookwood,” he said, concentrating on the case rather than anything more personally linked to MC. “If she can do that, then she will have served the terms of her probation without letting any of us down. I’m just doing my job, McKinnon.”

“And you do it so well,” she said, leaning even closer, her eyes darkening. “Now that you have returned, perhaps we can arrange that drink we spoke about.”

The sound of the gentle clearing of a throat made them both turn, Leander’s face burning even hotter when he saw MC standing there watching them with narrowed eyes. He realised just how close Odessa had leaned in towards him and shifted in his chair, his hand reaching to adjust his tie as guilt flooded through him. Odessa smirked and took her time moving away from him, her hand lingering on his arm long enough for it to draw MC’s gaze towards it, her mouth tightening slightly. He could almost see her withdrawal into herself, that spark he had noticed dimming in her eyes.

“Pardon the interruption, Auror Prewett,” MC said coolly. “I have finished my interview with the research team. I thought I would come and find you, but I can always make myself scarce if you are…otherwise occupied.”

“Oh, no…there’s no need for that,” he said, clearing his own throat before grabbing his little notebook and holding it up. The cold formality of her tone made his heart clench. “I think I am done here.”

“You look well, prisoner 2757. Life on the outside must be agreeable to you,” Odessa said, her voice like silk against a knife edge. Leander winced, but she only smiled wider. “I’m curious to see how things work out for you.”

MC’s eyes were hard and cold as she glared at Odessa. “I’m not usually one for cliches and old sayings, but the one about the cat and what curiosity did to it seems rather apt right now.”

Leander stood quickly and adjusted his jacket, moving towards MC, feeling the tension in the air between the two girls. Feeling rather uncomfortable, he didn’t dare touch MC, merely holding his hand out in the direction they needed to walk. “Shall we?”

“I’ll speak to you later about that drink, Leander,” Odessa said smugly, twirling a lock of glossy hair around her finger. “Do enjoy your afternoon.”

They left the Auror Office in silence, MC walking with her back straight and stiff, her face hard and cold. She wouldn’t look at him and barely nodded her head as he held the door open for her. He bit his lip, not sure if he should apologise, or insist that there was nothing between himself and Odessa. One could argue it was really none of her business, but they had shared that fiery kiss in his kitchen. He didn’t want her to think he was a rake, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. This was new territory for him having two ladies to worry over, and he knew he had the potential to put his massive foot in it.

“So, what now? Are we leaving?” She asked, her gaze moving around the long corridor, looking everywhere but at him.

“I had thought of getting some supplies for lunch. We could take it down to the beach near the house, and maybe you could do some wand practice whilst we are there. Of course, if you wanted to practise alone, I would understand.” He glanced her way, trying to gauge her reaction, but she remained cool and distant.

“You keep leaving me unattended. You ought to be careful, Prewett,” she said. “Aren’t you worried I might betray you?”

Leander swallowed hard as they made a turn towards the lifts. Anxiety twisted behind his chest as he wondered if he was putting off the inevitable. She would pull away from him at some point, and maybe he ought to start accepting that. Maybe it was best to start putting the distance between them in order to prevent further confusion. It didn’t seem like an easy prospect, especially when he didn’t really want to.

“As I said earlier, MC. You are no longer a prisoner. You could walk away from me right now, and I would not be obligated to chase after you. I’ve just been trying to help you and give you the best start possible before throwing you at Rookwood’s mercy,” he said, barely keeping the disappointment from his voice. He took a steadying breath as he came to a pause before the lift, one hand grasping the handle. “I’d like to think you wouldn’t betray me, but all I can do is hope that you won’t. Either way, I’m here to help you. You can take it or leave it.”

“You mean I can just leave?”

“If that’s what you would rather do,” he said softly, already preparing himself for her to do just that. “I can give you a time to meet me so we can exchange information as per your terms, and then you can walk away.”

She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face, and he bit his lip again. He gripped the lift door handle tightly, his cheeks no doubt red from the constant blush that seemed to stain his cheeks around her company. It was hard to read her thoughts, her face still carefully blank. Pulling the door aside, he gestured for her to enter the lift. Stubbornly silent, she did so, dipping her gaze and stepping past him.

This time, she braced herself against the wall, keeping a respectable distance between them as they lurched through the dizzying ride back towards the Atrium. He remained quiet, his teeth worrying at his lower lip as he agonised over mentioning Odessa, but people kept boarding the lift, and it wasn’t the time. He was also certain that she was going to leave, and the part of him that held a longing ache for something he could never have didn’t want to push her further away from him.

The walk through the Atrium was quiet, her shoulders still held with tension, her face pale and drawn as they neared the glow of the Floo fireplaces. She followed him towards the one they needed, and he paused, turning to give her a hesitant look. Was she going to ask to leave separately? If she did, he would have to keep his word and let her go.

Without looking at him, her hand reached out and sought his, her cold fingers wrapping tightly around him as she moved closer. “I’m ready. Let’s go, Prewett.”

He looked down at their joined hands, something shifting behind his ribs that he was too scared to examine up close. He squeezed back firmly, some of the tension leaving his shoulders as he closed his eyes and pictured the rugged coastline of Cornwall, the idyllic Shell Cottage set against the heathland. She was still calling him Prewett, and her face still held that cool indifference, but she wasn’t running down the hallway away from him. She was still happy to go home with him. The relief flooded through him as he stepped forward into the green flames, and she followed, the power of the magic sucking them through the void.

Sebastian

Wincing at the burn of the whiskey as he swallowed it down, he eyed the pretty witch opposite him, his gaze travelling over a mouth he knew rather well, her lips curved into a teasing smirk as she stared back at him across the table inside the Black Rose bar. Sweet talking Luella around had been easier than he had expected, his smart mouth that had pissed her off the other day now making her eyes sparkle, seemingly placing him back in her favour.

“Another whiskey?” He asked, holding his empty glass up.

She twirled her glass on the table top and gave him a dark look through her lashes. “Perhaps we could take this one upstairs,” she murmured, her hand sliding across the scratched wood to brush her fingertips along the back of his hand.

Sebastian felt his stomach muscles tighten, fighting the heat that stirred in his blood. It had been a while, but he wasn’t about to climb into bed with her again. He wasn’t made of stone, and of course, his body was going to react to a lovely woman offering him such pleasure, but he couldn’t. Not anymore. He withdrew his hand from the table top and out of her reach, his eyes glancing around them to see if anyone had noticed her suggestive touch.

“Do you want us to be found out?” He said, his voice hushed. “Daddy dearest will castrate me if he finds out, and I would rather keep my Crown Jewels intact.”

“You act as though you’ve already lost your precious jewels considering the lack of fun we’ve been having lately,” she huffed, leaning back in her chair.

“Don’t sulk, darling. It doesn’t suit you,” he said, getting to his feet. “I’ll get that drink, shall I?”

Luella watched him leave the table, his charming smile slipping from his lips as soon as he turned his back on her. It was becoming tiresome keeping up the pretence, but now that he was in this situation, he was kind of stuck with it until he could come up with a new plan.

Leaning on the bar, he rubbed his face with his hands, his eyes scratchy and tired from lack of sleep. He avoided his bed most nights, but whenever he did seek his pillow to lay his head down, restlessness stopped him from finding proper sleep. It was that, or it was the nightmares that left him sweating and trembling under his blankets chasing him from his bed.

The sound of someone entering the bar made him turn his head, his eyes widening as the familiar shape of Ominis appeared around the door, his wand held out and blinking. Shocked to see his old friend in such a place, it was clear he was here for either Marvolo or him. Sebastian abandoned the idea of ordering another whiskey and hurried to Ominis’ side.

“Hello, old friend,” he said quietly, his eyes scanning the bar to see who was watching and finding that most were giving them curious glances. “What are you doing here, Ominis? Everyone knows who you are.”

Ominis looked annoyed and uncertain, and he clamped a hand around Sebastian’s arm. “Trust me, this is the last place I wish to be, but I came to find you,” he muttered. “Is there somewhere we can speak?”

“What is it? Is it Anne? Is she alright?” Panic gripped him, and he focused all his attention on Ominis.

“Anne is fine,” Ominis assured him, but his grip remained firm on his arm. “Not here. We need to leave.”

“Come on,” Sebastian said, leading Ominis back out into the cobbled street. Walking around the corner, he glanced through the shadowed dark before Disapparating away from Knockturn Alley, where the very walls had ears that heard too much.

“Where are we?” Ominis asked as soon as they had their feet on solid ground again.

“Leicester Square, deep in Muggle territory where nobody will know us,” Sebastian said, standing close like a shield around Ominis. “Put your wand in your cane so nobody notices it.”

Ominis moved swiftly, adopting the gentleman’s cane that disguised his method of sight on Muggle streets. There was still the pinch of worry on his brow, and Sebastian was growing impatient.

“What was so urgent that you wandered right into the viper’s nest?”

Ominis sighed and shook his head. “I’m still not convinced that this is a good idea. I could get into trouble if I was discovered speaking out of office.”

Sebastian’s brows lifted with interest. “Out of office? Alright, you’ve got my attention. Surely, you won’t leave me hanging after that kind of statement.”

Dressed in a fine black suit, his hair neat and his profile like classic marble under London’s gaslights, Sebastian assumed that Ominis had come from the Ministry. Knowing his role there, he waited expectantly for Ominis to speak. Ominis rubbed his hand against his chin and sighed again.

“Merlin, curse me, alright,” he said, wincing as he made the decision. “Just tell me one thing. How serious are you about bringing Rookwood down?”

“Deadly serious,” Sebastian said darkly, his heart in his mouth. “What do you know, Ominis?”

“It’s more a case of who I spoke to,” he said, his teeth catching at his lower lip. “I met her, Sebastian. MC. I spoke to her this morning.”

Sebastian tried to draw a breath, a gasp, anything, but his lungs betrayed him. He stared at Ominis, lips parted. His hands reached to grip Ominis’ arms, holding him tightly. “Where? What did she say?”

“Let me go, you fool,” Ominis said, batting his hands away, scowling and scoffing. “She was at the Ministry this morning collecting her wand, and you were right. She was with Prewett.”

Sebastian’s mouth became set into a grim line, his brows drawn down low. “I knew it!”

“Now, now, Sebastian. Before you get your wand all in a knot, you should be aware that Prewett has been ensuring MC receives the best care after leaving the prison. By her own mouth, she is doing well and feeling better. Prewett even left her alone with me so that we could talk. She is not his prisoner, Sebastian. The intentions are honourable.”

“Honourable? Pfft, I find that hard to believe,” Sebastian scoffed, pushing his hand through his hair. “Prewett has always had a thing for MC, and no doubt he is relishing having her so close. He lied to me when I asked him outright where she was, and I bet the smug prick was loving every minute of it. It wouldn’t surprise me if he was trying to bed her under the guise of being a good, little boy.”

Ominis arched one eyebrow, his mouth twisted with an ironic smirk. “Not everyone thinks as you do, Sebastian. You’ve spent too long rolling around in the gutter. And, even if MC did allow Prewett to court her, would that be so terrible? He is a respectable young man with good prospects. Perhaps that is just what she needs.”

Sighing in irritation, Sebastian clenched his fists and glared. “What does any of this have to do with Rookwood?”

“Ah yes, Rookwood,” Ominis said, his gaze becoming sly. “What if I told you that the Auror office plans to send a decoy into his ranks? They want to bring Rookwood down just as much as you do, and they are willing to plant a powerful weapon within the Ashwinder camp in order to do it. If it works, you could very well be brought down with them.”

“Are you suggesting I cut my losses and get out? After all the effort I’ve put in!” Sebastian asked, incredulous.

“No, Sebastian,” Ominis said, sighing in exasperation. “Although, that would solve a few problems if you did. No, what I am actually suggesting, and I can’t believe I’m doing so, is that you work alongside the Auror’s plans and get the best of both worlds.”

“I’m not siding with no Auror scum,” Sebastian bristled, clenching his fists tighter. The image of Harrington dragging MC out of his arms that day sent a cold shiver down his spine. He would never forget it. Ever.

“Technically, you wouldn’t have to,” Ominis said, tilting his head. “Think about it. You assist in bringing down Rookwood, and in doing so, you gain the protection of not being sent to Azkaban for your efforts. All you would have to do is assist with the weapon.”

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed as he considered Ominis’ words. “And what is this weapon they seem so confident about?”

Ominis smiled, a smug, knowing smile that made him look every inch the Gaunt he hated to be. “Why, it’s MC, of course. That’s why she was let out early. That’s why they want her fighting fit so they can send her into Rookwood’s ranks and cut him out from the inside.”

Sebastian felt his jaw drop, staring in disbelief as he tried to wrap his head around those words. “MC is turning spy for the Aurors?”

“After speaking with her today, she seems quite determined to succeed. She signed a contract of probation terms to seal the deal,” Ominis said, lifting his chin. “It made voting for her release all the more satisfying.”

“You…you voted…” Sebastian huffed a shocked breath out through his mouth, his hands pressing against his forehead as he stared blindly around Leicester Square, not paying any attention to the busy pubs and music.

“She wants revenge just as much as you do,” Ominis continued, his smirk still smug. “You know me, old friend, I may not have my sight, but I am pretty good at seeing between the lines when it comes to people. It’s not so much what she said, but how she said it. She will bring down Rookwood, and she isn’t afraid of how. She even asked after you, despite you leaving her to rot in that awful prison.”

“She did?” Sebastian’s heart leapt behind his ribs. “What did you say?”

“I told her the truth,” he said, with a little shrug, amusement tugging at his mouth. “That you're still the same degenerate running around causing trouble. I'm sure she will seek you out once she is ready. I don't think she has let go of you yet.”

“And why would she? I haven't let go of her,” Sebastian said, flares of hope thundering through his pulse points. “When she does come, I will be ready.”

Ominis nodded, his face growing serious. “Just be careful, Sebastian. These are dangerous games at play. The only reason I am telling you all of this is because I would rather have you come out of it all alive.”

“I appreciate it, Ominis. More than you will ever know,” Sebastian said, a softer tone entering his voice.

For the first time in a very, very long time, Sebastian felt a glimmer of hope kindle in his chest, his gaze dropping to the thin, red scar on his palm. Could it be bright enough to chase back the shadows that haunted him?

The constant roar of waves filled her ears, and the sky was a canvas of deep oranges and pinks as the sun slid away for another day. The air was brisk, the sea breeze pulling at her braid as she thrust her arm towards the twilight sky yet again, her shoulders aching from the effort as her magic poured from the end of her wand in a blast of blue and white. The magic swirled and twisted, soaring up towards the sky in a writhing mass of power before splitting into a million fluttering wings. Fireflies of ancient magic danced on the breeze, drifting and dispersing across the beach.

She had been out here for quite a while, relishing the freedom of being able to cast her spells and release the pent-up fire of her magic. With her wand in hand, she felt unstoppable, a sense of wild abandon making her cheeks flush and her adrenaline spike. Her education had been cut short, but she knew enough to be able to handle herself safely, despite the desperate tremor on the edge of her control. Ancient magic was powerful, and she kept a tenuous grip on it, heeding the memories she had witnessed in those pensieves of the witch, Isadora.

Pausing to catch her breath, MC pondered her brief conversation with Andrew Larson earlier that day and dared to hope that he managed to dig something new up from the Ministry archives. Despite his obvious nervousness in her presence, she had sensed his eagerness to discover the information, his tentative questions for her hinting at a deep curiosity. She could not deny the excitement at the prospect of hidden knowledge regarding her magic, and she knew she had Leander to thank for the chance to find it.

Leander.

A soft sigh escaped her lips, and she relaxed her shoulders, sitting down on the soft sand of the beach to stare out at the rolling waves of the great Atlantic Ocean. Flutters of uncertainty danced behind her ribs as she thought about Leander, her teeth catching at her lower lip as she remembered soft kisses that had quickly turned into flame, the lingering warmth left on her skin after he had touched a hand to her back or her arm. How could she ignore the way he looked at her? Oh, he tried to hide it, but it was there, and she was looking for it whenever she met his gaze, now.

There was only one way anything like that could end between them, though. Heartbreak.

Closing her eyes, she hung her head downward, her arms balanced on her knees, her wand still firmly in her grip. Seeing him with Odessa had bothered her. It had clawed at the vulnerable scars behind her ribs, tearing at the softness she had hidden there, a softness she was developing for her Auror. Yes, hers. Because that is how she thought of him now. It had snuck up on her, caught her unawares, and now she had no choice but to look at it.

Seeing that sly, smug woman put her hands on Leander, lean towards him like she had every right to claim him as her own, it made MC want to whip out her wand and blast the bitch across the desks of his office. Shaken by the depth of her discomfort, she had tried to keep her distance from him ever since, shocked at the clear burn of jealousy she was drowning in. She had no right, no claim. It had only been one kiss, and she had told him to stop. He owed her nothing.

And yet…

Opening her hand to reveal her palm, she looked down at the thin scar on her hand, tracing it with her finger as her eyes stung with unshed tears. Missing Sebastian had consumed her for so long, for years she had been utterly alone and lost in darkness, and she still lingered in those shadows.

Was it so terribly wrong to seek out some light?

She wanted to feel something other than empty and cold. She had stepped out of that prison, unsure of where she belonged, and she still felt like she was adrift. The only thing holding her down right now was Leander. He had held her, wiped her tears away, sheltered her…and when he had kissed her, the empty hollow behind her ribs had flooded with warmth.

Sebastian was somewhere out there, far away from here and working under Rookwood’s orders. It was in the case files Leander had shown her. He had been seen with Rookwood’s beautiful daughter, and even Ominis had said that Sebastian was on a path of self-destruction.

Had he fallen so far into darkness that he was out of her reach? She just didn’t know anymore. It scared her more than she wanted to admit that she may have lost her first love, the boy who had stolen her soul and bound it with his in blood. Now, he was a man that she feared she wouldn’t recognise. What if he was walking a path she didn’t want to follow? Perhaps Ominis was right, and she might need to make some choices for her own survival.

Alone and lost, it was tough to know where to start, but she needed to have some faith in herself. She had always been alone since she was a child, and this was no different. She had always relied on herself, and that hadn’t changed. She just needed to take the first steps.

Getting to her feet, MC trudged across the sand towards the cliff path that led back to the cottage. The sky had now darkened into a blue so deep it was almost black. The first stars of the night were blinking their brilliance, and the pale moon had shown her face. Lost in her own head, she didn’t see Leander until she was upon him, jolting at the sight of him leaning against the stone wall that surrounded the cottage garden with a glass in his hand. She gasped and put a hand to her chest.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, smiling softly.

“I didn’t see you there, I was…I was miles away,” she said, biting her lip and dipping her gaze. She had hardly spoken to him all afternoon, wrapped up in her own petty jealousy over Odessa. She eyed him through her lashes, fiddling with her wand before gesturing towards his glass. “A tipple before bedtime, is it?”

He tilted the glass slightly as he glanced at it, nodding. “It’s my father’s firewhiskey. There was a bottle in the kitchen cupboard. I thought it might help me sleep. Would you like one? I can pour you a glass.”

MC wrinkled her nose as she moved closer towards him, her earlier frostiness with him melting away. “I was never really one for whiskey,” she said, shrugging. “Maybe I could try a sip.”

“Sure, here,” he said, holding out the glass towards her.

She took a small sip, the liquid coating her tongue with spicy heat. Her eyes watered, and she coughed as it went down her throat, the burn tingling all the way to her stomach. Leander chuckled and took back the glass as she shook her head. “Nope, still not for me,” she said.

“Fair enough. I can make you some tea if you’d prefer that,” he offered.

She shook her head and moved to lean against the wall beside him. “I’m fine, thank you. I will take some water up to bed with me.”

“That was quite the show you put on down there,” he said. “Do you feel better now?”

“You were watching me?” She looked up at him as he nodded, brushing back strands of hair caught on the sea breeze. His hair was slightly dishevelled, and she wondered what it would be like to brush back his hair with her fingers. She was grateful for the cover of darkness as she blushed at the thought.

“It feels good to be able to cast magic again,” she said, looking down at her wand. “After discovering that I was a witch and beginning to learn about my magic, I felt quite lost without it.”

“I’m sure I would be at a loss without mine,” Leander said. “I’m glad you feel better. What with your wand back in your possession and your strength returning, I am sure you are almost ready to leave. How do you feel about all that?”

Gazing ahead at the darkened ocean, she slipped her wand away and sighed softly, feeling oddly exposed and vulnerable there under the stars with him. “Lonely,” she said, her voice low and tinged with sadness.

His silence made her turn her head to look up at him, the look in his eyes making that cavern in her chest twist with longing.

“You’re not alone,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m here, remember? I will make sure that you will always be able to find me, no matter what happens.”

Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she studied his face. That warmth was right there, and all she had to do was reach for it.

“What about McKinnon?”

He straightened, placing his glass down on top of the wall behind him, his face serious. He shook his head, his hand reaching for her, and then hesitating. “What you saw earlier, it was nothing. She flirts like that with everyone. There is nothing more than professional camaraderie between myself and Odessa. I would never…”

“Don’t…” She said, her voice cracking. She put her hand gently over his mouth to stop him, knowing that if he said too much, it might push them even further across a line that was already blurring so quickly.

His eyes burned with words left unsaid, his lips parted against her fingers, the warmth of his breath against her skin sending shivers through her. Her hand shifted against his mouth, her fingers lightly caressing against the soft, fullness of his lips. His breaths quickened, and she felt her pulse come alive. He was so warm, so soft. The temptation was crippling, but she would only hurt him in the end.

His long fingers curled about her wrist, holding her hand against his mouth as his lips pressed soft kisses against her fingertips, holding her gaze as he mouthed along towards her palm to press a firmer kiss there. She opened her mouth to speak, to stop him, but she wasn’t pulling away, and words failed her as he closed his eyes and pressed a lingering kiss against the pulse point at her wrist. He had to feel it against his mouth. He had to feel the rush and flutter of her blood as he held his lips against her like that.

He lifted his head slowly, opening his eyes as he gently held her hand. “I try to hide it, but I think you know how I feel about you. I can’t explain it. You just drive me crazy. But, I’m not a fool. I know this isn’t what you want.”

“I don’t know what I want,” she said, her honesty making her breathless. “I’m just this lost girl without a clue, and I’m so numb, Leander. It’s like I’m hollow, empty, and you deserve so much more than that.”

He looked pained, biting his lip as he looked out to sea, shaking his head as if trying to deny the truth. Reaching for her, she found herself pressed against the warmth of his chest, her cheek nuzzled against the soft wool of his jumper as he stroked her hair. To be held like she was fragile should have brought forward the stubbornness and pride she used as shields against emotional vulnerability, but she found herself clinging to him instead. The pressure of his embrace eased the ache in her chest, and she closed her eyes, savouring the feel of him, breathing in his scent and allowing warmth to seep through to her bones.

What harm could it do to borrow some of that unfailing stability he had? Just for a moment.

They stood there for a while in each other's arms, not speaking, and she felt the gentle press of his lips against her head a few times. She let him, her body so starved of human contact that she thought it might cause her pain to let go, but the air was growing chillier, and she shivered against the breeze.

Reluctantly, she stepped from his embrace as he suggested they go indoors. They went about closing things down for the night, putting out the fire and drawing the curtains. When she moved for the stairs, she paused and turned towards him, placing her hand against his cheek with a soft smile.

“Goodnight,” she whispered, standing on tiptoe to press a kiss on his cheek that was dangerously close to his mouth.

He didn’t seek more. He merely bid her goodnight back, his eyes full of all the things they had left unsaid.

….*….

Her fingers slid down the old wood of the bedroom door, nerves fluttering behind her ribs as she once again found herself standing in the hallway outside Leander’s bedroom in the middle of the night. She had to stop this. Loitering outside his room was madness, and this was the third night she had found herself here, debating the idea of knocking and crossing into unchartered territory. Tonight, she felt the hunger with a sharpness that made her ache, sleep eluding her as she went over every detail of the day in her mind.

That kiss goodnight had left her wanting, his mouth so close, and yet not close enough. Standing there in just her nightgown, she shivered, so tired of being cold and empty. His arms felt too good wrapped around her, his chest the ideal place to rest her head…

Her sigh came out as a pained moan, and she brought her hand to her mouth, stifling the noise as she hesitated outside his door. She stared at the handle, her fingers reaching for it. This was crazy. It was inappropriate behaviour for a young lady to do such a thing.

The door clicked off the latch and swung inwards, her bare feet slipping quietly across the floorboards as she entered the darkened room. Closing the door gently behind her, MC turned and glanced around the bedroom. It was neat and tidy, clothes folded on a chair and shoes sat neatly to one side. The double bed claimed the centre, the blankets covering Leander as he slept. He had not moved, the soft sounds of his breathing filling the space. She should leave. She was invading his privacy.

Ignoring the sensible side of her mind, she moved closer towards the bed, pale moonlight highlighting the shape of Leander. Pausing, she took a moment to study him at rest, his hair falling haphazardly onto the white pillow. Her hand moved with a will of its own, her fingers sliding into soft strands of copper hair in a tentative caress. He stirred, his head shifting against the pillow, and then his eyes blinked slowly open.

“Sorry,” she whispered, withdrawing her hand. “It’s only me.”

Rubbing his eye, Leander pushed himself up onto an elbow, a frown creasing his brow. “MC…are you alright?”

“I can’t sleep,” she said, biting her lip. He was wearing a striped sleep shirt, and she would bet her last possession that he was wearing matching trousers beneath his blankets. He shifted to sit up, his hand grabbing the edge of the blanket.

“Can I get you anything?”

“No,” she said firmly, putting her hand over his to stop him from throwing the blanket back and getting up. He met her gaze, slightly confused and sleep dazed. Her heart thudded hard against her ribs. “Don’t get up. I…I was wondering…”

Her throat seemed to close up, words not forming as she stared at him. He looked so soft and sleepy, and yet the curve of his mouth and the defined line of his jaw were drawing her gaze, making her imagine things far more fiery and urgent. She eyed the strength of his neck, the width of his shoulders, his open collar revealing his throat, and a glimpse of chest. Fire curled within her, her hands desperate to reach out and find warmth.

She could see the question in his eyes, but instead of speaking, she lifted her hand and traced the line of his jaw with her fingertips. Leaning forward, she admired the full pout of his mouth before pressing her own against it, claiming a soft but determined kiss as her fingers pushed deeply into his hair and gripped. Leander didn’t move at first, perhaps surprised, but he didn’t stop her as she pressed more kisses against his mouth. The emptiness in her chest bloomed with fire, spreading outwards and filling her with something real, something that wasn’t dark or a heavy weight dragging her down.

“MC,” he whispered between kisses, his lips responding through heavier breaths. “Are you sure…this is…what you want?”

Inside, she felt like she had been losing everything human about herself, lost in shadow and sadness with no way out. Somehow, Leander had slipped through the cracks of her shattered soul, and his light was seeping through her, waking her up and making her feel like there was hope. She ached to feel that in the physical sense, her skin tingling in anticipation of his touch, the desire to feel his palms sliding over her flesh making her certain that this was exactly what she needed right now.

Cupping his face, her mouth reluctant to leave the plush softness of his, she brushed her lips against him, sighing softly, her body giving in to its demands. “Yes,” she breathed, sliding her tongue out to swipe it across his lower lip as she met his eyes.

Strong hands gripped her waist, and she moaned into his mouth as he pulled her down onto the bed with him, their kiss deepening until she was adrift on a wave of flickering flames. She had given in to temptation and was now lost in the feel of his hands and his mouth, her curves pressed close against the hardness of his body. As he cupped her hips, urging her against him, her nightgown sliding up her thighs, she knew there would be no turning back this time.

To be continued...

Tagging: @evaslytherpuff @eternalremorse @writing-intheundercroft @marketfreshfics @loving-him-was-red13 @slytherin-paramour @sevprince-91

#hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow #mc x sebastian sallow #leander prewett x mc #leander prewett #blueraineshadows #blood bound

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